Page 82 of Campus Daddies

“As I’m sure you reminded her.”

“I did. But I also told her that hard work will continue to pay off if she keeps it up.”

“Sound advice. You’ve always been so smart.” Mom’s hand finds my knee for another reassuring squeeze.

“Yes. Well, thank you, but my point is that she was already prepared for this. Birdie showed me a long list of ideas she has for her next project and how she wants to film and edit them. Talk about a brilliant little girl.” I’m so super proud of her.

And she didn’t even blink when Brax told her about us. Birdie just gave him thatduhlook every teenager masters early. The news of a new baby didn’t shake the foundation of her world, either.

Her only comment was that she doesn’t change diapers unless she’s being paid.

At that we both shrugged and went about our business as usual.

The chat flows easily as we make it into Midtown for some obscure café and eatery I’ve never heard of and never would have found without her.

With coffee, tea, and chocolate milk, we sit at a booth by the window, beating Mom’s friend there by a few minutes.

The moment I set eyes on Izzy, I know we’re going to get on just fine. She’s dressed in a mix of biker-Bohemian chic.

Her jet black hair is short in the back and swoops long across her forehead and left eye. She winks at me when she sits.

“The prodigal daughter, Sofia. Nice to meet you, chickie. I’m Izzy.” Her hand is cold and rough as she gives me a firm handshake. She also offers Noah her hand to shake, and he does with a grin.

“Noah.”

“Hi, Noah. I’ve heard a lot about you. Your grandma loves to brag about you and your tastebuds. This place has tapas. Do you know what that is?” It’s obvious Izzy has kids, too. She’s got the perfect tone. Not baby talk, but a bit more animated than normal.

My son shakes his head.

“It means we get a little bit” —she holds up two fingers close together and looks at him through the gap— “of a whole lot of different foods. Does that sound good?”

Noah lights up, hopping in his seat. I run my hand over his back, and he settles down after a minute.

Izzy puts in the order and turns to face me, her hands spread wide. “I saw your project, and may I just say…”

She gives me a chef’s kiss.

“I bet you had a truckload of footage to pull from based on what your mom told me about your original intention for your thesis.” It’s half a question and half a statement. Something to prod me to talk about it.

“I did. Yes.” I reach up to touch the glasses I’ve been wearing for it, but they’re not there. It pulls a soft laugh from me. “But my steady schedule helped me pull what I needed more quickly.”

She nods, and I see Mom help distract Noah with the crayons she brought and the back of the paper placemat out of the corner of my eye.

“Smart. I wonder what it would have turned into without what that woman did.” Her face is thoughtful, and I’m curious why she’s asking.

“Me, too. Maybe after a break from it, I’ll go back and turn it into what I originally intended.” Right now, that idea seems far away. Time off is definitely the only thing I have planned for the foreseeable future.

At least, for a little while.

“So you’re between things.” The sly look in her dark eyes has me raising my brow.

“I guess so?”

“Oma, did you tell her anything before you brought her here?” A sharp look is shot my mother’s way.

“No, darling. I thought I would leave that to you. It is your idea, after all.”

What is going on here? And why do I suddenly feel as though I’ve been set up? When Mom mentioned that she might help me find a direction, I didn’t think she meant what seems to be happening right now.

---