Jennifer Two

TWENTY-FOUR.

July 14th, 2016

I don't know how long I embrace Sofia for, but it feels like eternity. Everything comes back to me, like the softness of her hair and the sweet scent of the perfume that she still wears. I want so bad to kiss her, and for a fleeting moment, I try and think back to the last time I ever did, and it's just a blurred memory.

She told me she wasn't going to come along with Hudson, but I was more than shocked when I arrived at the airport, waiting at the arrivals, expecting to see my son being accompanied by airport staff, lugging his bag along – instead seeing my ex-wife strolling a metre or so behind his enthusiastic quickened gait, both of them smiling and waving at me. I had only prepared for Hudson's visit, sorting out the spare bedroom in my apartment, but I gather that now I might have to make different reservations to accommodate for my guests; the spare room is only a single bed, after all. Unless... unless Sofia is willing to share a bed with me, which I highly doubt. But she's here, and that's something I didn't expect, so I guess a man can dream.

"I've missed you so much," I breathe into her shoulder. I can see people watching, obviously drawing up mental narratives of a long-distance relationship or something of the sort. I hear some oohs and aahs when I bend down and squeeze the life out of Hudson, planting a kiss on his cheek and watching him wipe it away with embarrassment. I take the time to look at him and analyse how much he's grown – he is way taller than he was when I last saw him, and I know he's going to be a lanky kid. He'll grow into a great man; I can see it already.

"I've missed you too," Sofia says at some point, and my chest pangs at hearing her say it. I think to how she never wanted to leave me, but she needed to leave me. I forced her to make that decision.

"I thought you weren't coming," I mention to Sofia as we stride out of the double doors of the airport exit, pulling their suitcases. "What made you change your mind?"

"Family, primarily," she says as Hudson walks a few paces ahead of us. He turns around every now and then to keep in track of us, after all he doesn't know where the car is. "I haven't seen my mother in a long time, and she's ill."

"Oh. That's a shame," I respond, and I instantly regret not clarifying that I meant about her mother and not that she isn't coming for me. I quickly add "I hope she gets better soon."

"She's terminal." She says swiftly and quietly, and I feel stupid. "I'm heading to San Diego tomorrow morning on the train, where my parents are. Hudson will stay with you for a couple of days while I try to get things sorted out first with the family; things aren't going well in general back home. And as I said, I think it's important you hang out. Father and son time, you know?"

"Yeah, I totally understand."

And I do, but I wish things were different. Even though I expected it to just me and Hudson, a certain apprehension overwhelms me in thinking that I'll be left to tend to him alone, now that Sofia's here too. You know, like that feeling you get when you're otherwise a maestro in the kitchen but not when your mother comes to visit, and her presence is enough to make you forget how to cook.

I try my best not to stare at Sofia when she sits shotgun, staring out into the view of the city streets around her. I can imagine what she's thinking of; memories of our spontaneous dates to Italian cafes and bars for sneaky martinis when our neighbour offered to babysit Hudson. Memories of picnics and excursions at the central park. Memories of fights we had, drunken and high voltage, ending with Sofia running off to a local friend or a motel, if it got to that point. The city is dotted with memories of us, and for once I can't escape it.

"Wow, Bret..." Sofia gawks at my apartment when she enters. "You've really changed things up in terms of living arrangements, haven't you?"

"You could say so," I chuckle. "I'll take Hudson's bags to my room."