I stepped outside to greet Sophia and see why she lingered outside. She stood on the sidewalk with her eyes fixed on her phone’s screen. As I approached, I saw pain etched on her face like a tattoo. She wasn’t looking at the phone at all; it was just a prop. A stall tactic while she willed herself to be okay. I dashed over and gave her a tight squeeze, assuring her that everything will be fine. It took no time for her to let the weight of her sorrow crash down on me. As tears ran down her face, I whispered reassurances, encouraging her to let it all out. Though I hated hearing her wails of desperation, I’m glad she let go because she’d been carrying that burden for a while. She did what she believed was right, persevering at work because of a long-held dream. But it slowly destroyed her.
When she was ready to talk, she’d talk, so I didn’t prod her. I just stood there, being the support and comfort she needed me to me. Moments later, she pulled away and looked up at me with red, glassy eyes.
“Luca?”
I grabbed her hands.
“I’m here.”
“You were right.”
I honestly hated hearing that, but it was music to my ears. I wanted what was best for her, and that job was not it.
“I’m gonna take a few days off and figure this out,” she continued.
“Take all the time you need. I love you and don’t want to see you like this again. I got you. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate you, Luca. I’m not spontaneous, and I wish I had even half of your confidence, so quitting without a plan has always terrified me. I think I just needed someone to tell me it’s going to be okay.”
“It’s definitely going to be okay. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
“I know you wouldn’t.”
“Mama’s still here. You want me to tell her to go home?”
“Nooo, don’t send her away on my account. I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.”
I held her again, hoping to transfer my strength and positive energy to her. When she was ready, we went inside. Mama was playing with the dogs in the kitchen, and when she noticed Sophia, I could see the alarms beginning to blare. Sophia was in front of me, so I shook my head, pleading with Mama not to engage. Luckily, my message was received, and she quickly thought of something else to say.
“I was just giving your babies a little birthday tussle.”
Sophia painted on a smile that looked partially genuine.
“That’s so rude they aged up without me. I didn’t realize they were that old.”
“Me neither,” I said. “It was pretty uneventful anyway.”
Rosie was trying to convince Kooper to play, but he wasn’t having it, so I stepped away from the conversation to address her. The ladies sat, and I hoped Mama would behave. I couldn’t really hear what they spoke about over Rosie’s excited yelps, but at one point I thought I heard the word vacation, and my antennas went all the way up. But by then, Mama had to go.
I would never wish away my mom, but I was relieved when she left. I wanted Sophia to have a quiet, cozy evening with minimal distractions. Socializing drained her energy, and even though she’d take time off and would have time to recover, I wanted her to conserve. It was a good thought, in theory, but life didn’t always go our way. An hour later, as I put the finishing touches on dinner, someone knocked at the door. I rolled my eyes in disdain at the nerve of whoever dared to disturb Sophia’s peace. When I saw it was Dad, I felt a little better. He wouldn’t stay long and was much better at reading rooms.
“Hey, Dad! You just missed mom.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, she left about an hour ago. You hungry? I made spaghetti.”
“No, I’m fine. But thanks. I just came to meet these little singers of yours.”
“Ha! Well, they’re not so little anymore.”
We went inside, and Sophia had already finished her food. I really hoped she’d go through with quitting, if only so dinner could stop being her first meal. Sadly, most days, I failed to wake up with her and cook breakfast. Early mornings were just not my thing.
We joined her at the table, and I could see the point where he realized something was wrong. I knew he wouldn’t ask, but I couldn’t risk it and told him of my SimTube success.
“Wow! That’s awesome,” he said.
I went on to tell him about our plans to move and get a bigger house and gently hinted at some career changes for Sophia. This extra money couldn’t have come at a better time.
“You know,” Dad began, “your mom’s candle business originated from a dream I had of a family operation.”
“Really? I mean, I knew you were the one who taught her, but it always seemed kind of random.”
“My father was a carpenter, and I inherited his crafting spirit. I learned how to make all kinds of things, but woodworking was my favorite. I always wanted to teach my children how to craft and start a business selling handmade goods that would be family owned and operated.”
Wooooow. If my parents had stayed together, I might have been a maker? That was wild to me. I didn’t often think about how different my life would have been without the divorce, but when I did, it was fascinating. But I could take those thoughts only but so far because at a certain point my would-be life became unrecognizable and unappealing. We may have never gone to Mt. Komorebi when we did, and I never would have met Sophia.
“My plan was to keep working my job until the business could support itself and our family. We didn’t have a lot when I was growing up, so I told myself if I ever had extra money, I’d save some of it and invest the rest so I could generate some passive income. Maybe that’s what you should do with this new SimTube money.”
“That’s not a bad idea, Dad. Thanks. I never would have considered that.”
The business and finance world was completely foreign to me, so I asked questions about where and how to go about it, what portion I should invest, and the like. Much like many other father-son discussions we’ve had, I appreciated the unexpected but much-needed lesson. I realized no matter how old I got or how much I matured, there’d always be something he could teach me until the day he left this world.
