“Big plans for your birthday this weekend?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
Margot shifts in her chair, looking more uncomfortable than ever. I’m not sure how that’s possible, given our previous conversation. She casts her eyes down to her lap, where she fidgets with the silver ring on her finger. “I have this birthday tradition,” Margot says, “It’s probably going to sound sort of weird and childish, but I always go to a theme park on my birthday. I don’t know though… I might sit this year out.”
A melancholy look passes over her face, brief but unmistakable. The corners of her mouth drop, as if pulled downward by the weight of some unspoken words. Her lashes flutter, blinking away the unwanted emotion. Then it’s gone, just as quickly as it came. She looks up at me with a restrained smile.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s bothering her. She just broke up with her long-term boyfriend, and her best friend is thousands of miles away. She’s planning on spending her birthday alone.
I’m fully prepared to object and offer the obvious solution when I catch a glimpse of the clock on my computer. Cursing under my breath, I pull the top drawer of my desk open, grabbing my phone and my keys.
“Sorry,” I rush to say. “I’m supposed to meet Rachel and Sophia for lunch in a few minutes.” If I leave now, I’ll still make it on time.
Margot rises from the chair. “No problem.”
“We’ll finish this conversation later, okay?”
She nods, smiles, and tells me to hurry up. Relief courses through me, despite the fact that I’m practically sprinting to the stairwell and flying down the steps two at a time. Margot and I are going to be okay. Kissing her wasn’t my greatest idea (though it felt like it at the time), but I can’t bring myself to take itback. Now, I just need to make sure we can move on from it. Thankfully, we seem to be on the same page.
The bistro is a block away. I check my phone as I step inside, relieved to find that I’m right on time. Glancing around the restaurant, I see Rachel and Sophia already seated at a table near the back. Rachel looks up and waves at me as I make my way over.
“Hey,” I say to Rachel, a little breathless.
“Hi.”
She pops up automatically like she’s going to give me a hug then second guesses herself. My first instinct is to take a step backwards, unintentionally making things even worse. Neither of us knows what to do. Maybe one day we’ll get better at this. Maybe one day it won’t feel so awkward. In the meantime, we settle on a weird half-hug where she pats my arm, and I pat her shoulder.
Sophia has wide eyes and a shy smile as she looks up at me.
“Hi Sophia.”
“Hi.” It’s more a squeak than a word.
As I’m settling in at the table, Rachel leans over to Sophia. “Do you want to show Uncle Ethan what you made for him?”
Sophia nods, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Go ahead,” Rachel encourages.
Sophia stands up, clutching a piece of light pink construction paper in her hands. She takes a few steps around the table, stopping right beside me then holding the paper out for me to grab.
“Wow! What’s this?” I ask, smiling down at what appears to be a green circle and some protruding lines. A wreath, maybe? Or some sort of spider?
“It’s a turtle I saw at the zoo,” she tells me proudly. “His name is Walter.”
“You went to the zoo?” I ask enthusiastically.
Sophia nods. “For a field trip. Mommy was the shampoo.”
“Chaperone,” Rachel corrects with a tiny laugh. We exchange a quick look and a half-smile over Sophia’s head.
Turning my attention back to Sophia, I smile broadly. “That sounds so fun. Will you tell me more about it?”
Sophia nods again, and I spend the rest of my lunch hour listening to Sophia talk excitedly about turtles, monkeys, and her thoughts on slushies. We agree that wild cherry is superior to blue raspberry, and that kettle corn is better than regular popcorn.
When lunch is over, we stand to leave, and something small touches my hand. I glance down to find Sophia slipping her hand into mine. She smiles up at me, and my heart expands in my chest. A calm settles over me, steady and grounding.
Ever since Rachel moved back to town, I’ve been second-guessing myself, unsure how to shift from father figure to stranger to uncle. After our first encounter at the house that morning, I worried this might be harder than I expected—that I wouldn’t quite know where I fit when it came to Sophia. But a few short weeks later, the pieces are already clicking into place. Being her uncle feels natural. Easy. The way it was always supposed to be.
Everything in my life is finally settling into place.