Every Little Thing, part one
Title: Every Little Thing
Author: soporta
Rating/Warnings: PG for excessive fluff.
Pairing: Andrew/Jesse
POV: 3rd
Summary: Jesse starts to wonder whether it's normal that he's fallen in love with his daughter's preschool teacher. He kind of has his doubts. ~16,000 words
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Title comes from "Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley.
Author Notes: First attempt at TSN RPF. All for starsandsands (and all her fault).
“Daddy, Daddy, not so tight. I don’t like my braids that tight. It makes my head hurt.”
Braiding is an art that Jesse probably will never conquer, considering he’s been doing it every day for almost two years now-ever since Sophia’s hair has been long enough to braid. He does his best, but they always turn out a little funky and lopsided. He’s learned that when he does one in the back, instead of two on the sides, she can’t actually see the braid to complain, but today she insisted on two. The problem is that they’re running late and there’s no time to fix the horrid mess he’s made of her hair. He has to leave it as is and say, “Sorry, Soph, there’s no time to fix it.”
Sophia looks a little like she wants to throw a fit, but Jesse distracts her long enough by quickly handing her her favorite glasses, the ones with the square rims that she’s outgrowing but refuses to have replaced, and then her lunchbox, and then a toothbrush, and her jacket, before suddenly realizing she’ll probably fall over if he hands her anything else. He takes everything back but the toothbrush and says, “Go brush your teeth, please. Get this all done and we may have time to fix those braids of yours.” Sophia sighs but obliges, knowing better than to interfere with Jesse’s plans when he’s feeling as frantic as he is right now. Jesse is grateful, and reminds himself to try to google again when he gets the chance how to braid hair without it looking like a tangled ponytail.
Sophia brushes her teeth and puts on her jacket and glasses, and she clutches her lunchbox while bouncing up and down. She waits for Jesse to get his own jacket on and find his car keys before finally looking down at her. “Braids?” she asks with a wide grin.
“Yeah,” Jesse says with an exasperated laugh, and bends down to try again to put together two coherent braids.
He doesn’t, but he has to be at a meeting in forty-five minutes, and there’s no time to fix them again. Sophia sighs, but otherwise accepts the fact, and he gets her into her car seat and they leave right away for her preschool.
They get there and he jogs quickly inside. Once he notices Sophia running to catch up, he slows down and reminds himself to prioritize. He gets her into the classroom, kisses her on the cheek, tells her to have a good day and to have lots of fun and that he’ll see her at three. She agrees and smiles and waves goodbye. He waves back, but once he’s around the corner, picks up his pace to try to get to work on time.
: :
So, mornings are hectic, but thankfully things always are calmer after that, once all of his meetings and deadlines are over with, and he gets to work from home again. (He thought working from home as a writer meant never having to leave his house for work-related things, but he was sorely, sorely mistaken. Apparently, if he wants his works published and paychecks made, he has to actually leave his house, because apparently the opportunities aren’t coming to him). Once Sophia is home from school, he’s much better about focusing his attention on her.
They drive home from school and she tells Jesse eagerly about her day (“And don’t worry about the braids, Daddy, because Mr. Andrew helped me fix them.” Jesse turns around at a red light to look that them and Sophia shakes her head back and forth, showing off the braids which, all right, are sort of impressively neat.) Once they get home, she tosses her lunchbox on the ground (they’re working on cleanliness, okay?), Jesse reminds her to pick it up, she pets their two cats, Fred and George (two bright orange tomcats), and then she sits down for a snack and continues to go on talking about her day.
It’s a routine, but it’s a nice one that Jesse has no complaints about. Sophia adores talking, which she most certainly inherited from her mother, but Jesse likes listening, so it’s okay. At this point, he hangs up any art she made that day up on the fridge-it rotates a lot, but he makes sure to always have three or four of her favorite drawings up there. Then she plays with her toys while he works in the living room for a bit, and then he makes dinner and they eat. Then she bathes and gets ready for bed.
They go to Jesse’s room and sit down next to each other on his big bed. She buries herself under his blankets and listens extremely attentively while he reads her a story. This part isn’t just routine for them; it borders on ritual. One of the only times he ever got a babysitter for her was just under a year ago, and, though she was nice (he could only hope, after two interviews with her and, like, a million background checks), he forgot to tell her about their bedtime story routine. When the babysitter didn’t do it right, Sophia started crying for what was apparently hours. He ended up getting a phone call halfway into the event he was at, and he came home immediately. He made note to work on easing the separation anxiety, but he’s thinking that preschool has helped.
Even so, the stories are still a must. They read a lot of tougher books, some of Jesse's favorites, which he knows she doesn't understand fully, but reads them anyway because she insists. Even though she’s already four, they revert back to some of the more simple Dr. Seuss books now and again, because she’s already determined to learn how to read. She’s doing very well (she can recognize “Cat” and “Hat” and other similar words), and Jesse is very proud of her. He’s also grateful she shares with him a love for reading, because he doesn’t know what he’d do if she didn’t.
After they finish the story, Jesse walks with Sophia back to her room and tucks her in and tells her goodnight. Now and again he has to check for monsters or shut the curtains a certain way or buy a nightlight, but for the most part, it’s one of the more simple aspects of their routine.
: :
Sophia’s mother was a wonderful person, charming and sweet, but ended up being the wrong person for Jesse. They dated for quite a while-Jesse lost his virginity to her, and it was around then that he realized maybe something about their relationship was off. He was frantic for a while about trying to pinpoint exactly what went wrong-what it was that he did to screw everything up, but never could figure it out. Finally, the both of them sat down and talked, and it all made sense.
Not at first, though. At first, it mostly was Jesse rambling on and on (though he doesn’t talk much, once he starts, he finds it difficult to stop, especially when he’s nervous), trying to explain what he thought it was that he did wrong. He wasn't really sure what it was, though, and it mostly ended with him being the worst person in the world and saying, feeling horrible, "It's just-it's not you, it's me, you know?" He realized when he finally took a moment to stop talking that Rebecca was laughing quietly to herself.
"I know," she said, and made this face at Jesse, all innocent eyes and best intentions.
"What?" Jesse asked, feeling himself turning red.
"I know," she said, and laughed even harder.
She knew Jesse was gay before he did, but ultimately, that was okay. She didn't seem upset, and insisted that they remain friends, and funnily, Jesse could sense the sincerity in the statement. He agreed and for a short while they parted ways. They would email now and again-awkward smalltalk that evolved back into friendly conversations that flowed smoothly. And one day, there was a knock on Jesse's door, and Rebecca was outside, biting her lip and staring at Jesse with big eyes that were starting to water. She looked like she was doing everything in her power not to cry. Jesse had never, ever seen her cry before, so he knew it was serious. He frowned, but let her in and sat her on the couch. He made her tea-green tea, her favorite, and then she did start to cry.
"I can't drink that," she said quietly, staring at her feet.
"What do you mean? You drink it all the time."
"It has caffeine. I can't-I can't drink caffeine."
"Why not?" Jesse asked. (Looking back, he realizes now how stupid the question was. Twenty-twenty hindsight, he always thinks, and tries to let it go.)
Rebecca rolled her eyes, wiping them before crying even harder. "I'm pregnant," she said, almost incredulously. Suddenly, it made sense.
Jesse apologized probably a hundred times that evening. He's no longer sure whether it was because of the tea, or because of impregnating her to begin with, but all he could say was, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Rebecca was never mad at him to begin with, not even a little. She spent the night at Jesse's, and the next day, they both felt a little more composed.
They talked for hours about every detail of their futures, covering the ifs and buts and eventually coming to a mutual agreement. They would have the baby, and they would both raise it, more than likely taking turns. There was no reason to deprive the child of having both parents-that would just be cruel, they agreed. They also agreed that a better plan would possibly arise, but until then, it was decided. So they bought cribs and clothes and diapers, and they went to doctor's appointments and lamaze and all of that, and eventually, fewer than nine months later, Rebecca had Sophia.
Their plan went fine for the first year. Both of them were extremely happy-they both loved Sophia ridiculously. But then, on one of Jesse's days with Sophia, Rebecca never showed up with her. He called her phone, but there was no answer. An hour later, Rebecca’s mother called, sounding frantic, saying that she was at the hospital and that something happened to Rebecca. She didn’t say anything else. Jesse immediately rushed over. After he arrived, all Rebecca’s mom could say was, “She’s gone, Jesse. She’s gone.”
Jesse learned the next day that it had been a drunk driver that killed her. He was ready to hate the world, everything in it, because Rebecca had been the best friend he'd had, and the best mother, but he realized he still had Sophia, who he loved. She didn’t deserve to have a dad that hated everything, so he decided not to hate the world. He took the baby back to his house and promised that, though Rebecca was gone, he would be the best parent he could be. Now and again, he wonders to himself whether or not he lives up to the promise, but most of the time he likes to think that Rebecca would be proud.
: :
Three years after that night and Sophia is a happy, wonderful four-year-old that goes to school and reads stories and pets their cats. But she also, like any four-year, likes to get into a fair amount of trouble, like the evening when Jesse comes back into the living room after making dinner and sees glitter everywhere. Sophia herself is coated in it-it’s all stuck to her face and her clothes and her hair is shimmering. When she looks up at Jesse, even more glitter sprinkles onto her face. Then, then he sees the rest of the room, the glitter in the carpet, the glitter on George, who’s sitting next to Sophia and betraying Jesse by not stopping this situation. He’s also completely covered in a bright red glitter that contrasts horribly against his orange fur.
“Sophia May,” Jesse starts, using the most authoritative tone he can muster up. “I want you to tell me right now what happened here.” There’s a piece of paper in front of Sophia and a bottle of glue, so Jesse already has a pretty solid idea of what happened, but he crosses his arms and waits patiently for Sophia’s explanation anyway.
“Well,” she says, and looks down at the mess she made. “I just wanted to make a drawing with the glitter, but then...it spilled.”
“It spilled,” Jesse repeats, and wonders to himself how a bottle of glitter spills on the floor and ends up on the couch across the room. “What did I tell you about using glitter?”
Sophia furrows her eyebrows like it’s finally sinking in that she’s in trouble. “You said not to use it without asking you first.”
“And where do we use glitter?”
“At the table, with newspaper.” Jesse nods-at least she remembers, right? She looks upset now (she hates getting in trouble), and says, “George wanted a drawing and he likes glitter. I’m sorry, Daddy!”
Jesse sighs, trying hard to steady himself and remember that just because she gives him those eyes doesn't mean she's allowed to get away with what she did. He frowns again and states, "You're going to help me clean this up, okay? Then you're getting a bath. And the next time we use glitter, we use it at the table."
"With newspaper," Sophia adds, and Jesse nods in approval.
"All right," he says, "let's get to work."
: :
The next day is another horribly frenzied morning that leaves Jesse out of breath as he’s trying frantically to get the both of them out the door on time. Sophia already has her jacket and glasses on and Jesse quickly pulls her hair into a messy ponytail. He grabs her lunchbox and they run to the car before he hands it to her, and gets her into her car seat. He rushes to the driver’s seat and goes five miles over the speed limit the entire way there. It’s worrisome for him (“I’m gonna get pulled over, I’m gonna get pulled over,” he mutters to himself the entire way there), but finally, they arrive at the preschool. He gets Sophia inside, tells her goodbye, and waves in her general direction on his way out.
After school he picks her up, and Sophia rambles on and on about her day before mentioning in passing, “And I didn’t have any lunch but Mr. Andrew gave me some food and then I went outside and played house with Maggie and we-”
“You didn’t have lunch?” Jesse interrupts. “What do you mean?”
“There was nothing in my lunchbox,” Sophia says. Jesse sees her shrug in the rearview mirror like it’s no big deal. “You forgot again.”
“I forgot again,” Jesse says, and thinks back to the morning and remembers doing everything except packing a lunch. “Oh man, Soph, sweetie, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Sophia says. “I already told you, Mr. Andrew had food that he gave me.”
It makes Jesse feel a little better, but that feeling promptly disappears when he gets home and has Sophia pick up her lunchbox from the floor. He opens it up, part of him still hoping that maybe she was lying (which she never does), or that she just didn’t see the Tupperware in it (he knows that’s unlikely), and sure enough, the lunchbox is empty, save for a little post-it note stuck to the bottom. Jesse takes it out and reads it. It says:
Mr. Eisenberg: Sophia came into school without a lunch today. Normally it’s okay because we have a refrigerator and a small supply of food for moments like these, but this isn’t the first time it’s happened with her. Maybe you could put some kind of reminder up on your fridge, or something? That said, Sophia is otherwise doing very great here. Hopefully I’ll get to see you at parent-teacher conferences! Thanks, Andrew Garfield. :)
The handwriting is ridiculously tiny (yet still miraculously neat), because Mr. Andrew apparently decided to cram the entire note onto one side of the post-it instead of going to the backside. Jesse feels like an idiot. He figures Mr. Andrew probably thinks he’s the stupidest, worst dad ever for not even being able to provide Sophia with three solid meals a day. Even so, he takes the post-it and sticks it onto the refrigerator and decides then to start packing her lunches the night before.
: :
Sophia has always had a lot of ambition for her age, always committing to what she does. She decided when she was three that she wanted to be a scientist, and even now still goes outside with the bug-catching kit she got for Christmas last year and spends hours searching for bugs and watching them under her magnifying glass. She loves going to the local pond and feeding the ducks (“The pretty ones are the boys! They’re mallards, right, Daddy? The girls are pretty too but green is-well, it’s my favorite color so I think the boy ducks are the prettiest.” Jesse thought it was cute until realizing that she was already calling boys pretty and suddenly he wanted to hit pause and so that she would only use the term “pretty” with boy ducks forever, and not human boys. He’s getting better about letting her grow up, but that’s mostly because he tries not to think about it.)
A lot of the time she brings home from school drawings of animals and leaves in the autumn and once she brought home a drawing of the Earth that she had titled global warming. Jesse still wonders where she heard the term from, but he left it on the fridge for a long time, feeling proud (and slightly disconcerted) that she could even recognize the term to begin with.
He’s thinking, given her love for animals above anything else, that she may end up a veterinarian, but when he asks Sophia what she wants to be, she just answers, “A scientist,” like it’s a perfectly valid answer.
: :
“We started learning about the solar system today!” Sophia exclaims excitedly one afternoon after school. “And we talked about the planets!”
“That’s great,” Jesse says, setting Sophia’s lunchbox down on the counter. “Do you have a favorite planet yet?”
“Pluto,” Sophia says excitedly, her eyes widening. “It’s really cold there! You could probably build snowmen all year!”
Jesse frowns and says, “Pluto isn’t a planet, though, honey.”
“Mr. Andrew said it is. He said it’s the tiniest and really cold. And I said I wanted to build snowmen on Pluto and I even drew a picture!” She runs quickly over to the pile of papers Jesse had taken from her cubby when he picked her up. She tosses all the papers that aren’t her drawing on the table, and after a minute pulls one out and exclaims, “Look!”
Jesse takes the paper and he sees a tiny purple circle that he can only assume is Pluto, because on top of it is an enormous blue snowman that’s smiling. “Very nice,” he says, “but Pluto isn’t a planet. It used to be, but it isn’t anymore.”
He knows it might sound a little harsh to be arguing with his child like this but she deserves to know the truth. He never said it was fair that Pluto isn’t a planet. He wishes it were, but he thinks it’s weird that people can’t come to terms with the fact that it isn’t. Also, he’s a little upset that she was taught the wrong thing in preschool. He reminds himself to ask her teacher about it.
“Why isn’t it a planet anymore?” Sophia asks, and Jesse starts into a long story about how scientists decide what are and aren't planets.
: :
One of the papers in the stack is a form that states at the top in big letters and a wacky font, PARENT-TEACHER CONFERENCES. The rest of the paper is written in a normal font that explains all the typical conference stuff. It’s not mandatory but is highly encouraged, signups are on a sheet of paper on the classroom door, first-come, first-served, and so on. Jesse mostly skims over it and figures he’ll sign up early and ask about Pluto and all of that. He’s not stressed about it (which is funny since he usually stresses about everything), and sets the sheet on the stand next to the front door so that he won’t forget about it.
Sophia asks him about it when she sees it, making him help her read out the words at the top. He summarizes to her what a parent-teacher conference is and she gets very excited and states loudly, “You get to meet Mr. Andrew!”
“I know,” Jesse says, and laughs. “He is your teacher, isn’t he?”
“Yes!” she shouts. “He’s really funny and you should have him show you our job chart. This week I get to feed the fish!” She pauses for a minute, but before Jesse can go to reply her eyes widen and she asks, “Can I go with? Please, please, please, please?”
“No, Soph,” Jesse says right away. “You’re not a parent or a teacher, are you?”
“I’m Kitty’s Mommy,” she states right away, sounding almost offended that Jesse didn’t recognize the fact. Kitty is the stuffed giraffe that she’s had since she was a baby. It’s no longer in perfect condition-Rebecca’s mom has had to sew its button eyes back on twice now, and it’s very raggedy in general, but Sophia clings to it still and insists she’s its Mommy.
“Kitty doesn’t count, I’m afraid,” Jesse says. “Kitty isn’t enrolled at the preschool, which means you’re not allowed to go to the conference.” Sophia looks a little dejected, so Jesse says, “But I will be sure to look at the job chart and anything else you need me to see. And then I’ll tell you everything Mr. Andrew tells me. But you can’t tell him I told you that. Okay?”
“Okay,” Sophia says and squeals with excitement. “I won’t!”
Sophia adores Mr. Andrew, one of the two teachers working at the preschool. He was a replacement for Sophia’s old teacher, a nice woman who quit after having a child of her own. Jesse only has spoken with Mr. Andrew once, and he seemed pretty nice. Jesse figures it’s good that he’s going to actually be able to sit down and talk to him-he feels like it’s weird not to have done so with the person that’s teaching his daughter how to write and color and play with other kids. Since Sophia adores him, he figures it’s okay that he hasn’t yet, but decides after talking with her to make it one of his higher priorities.
: :
Jesse and Sophia get to school the next day without any need to hurry, which is a pleasant change of pace. While they were getting ready, Sophia seemed to rush a little, bouncing and saying, “Come on, we’re gonna be late.” Jesse isn’t sure if she said so because he’s made her horribly accustomed to rushing or because she’s excited for him to sign up for conferences. Because they get to school and she does everything in her power to literally drag him over to the signups. He rolls with it and staggers over toward the paper and she grabs him a pink marker from the marker bin and says, “Do it quick!” He stares at the marker and laughs, but scribbles his name down for the third conference slot on the list.
“Okay?” he asks Sophia. She beams.
“Yes! See you after school!”
“Sounds like a plan,” Jesse says, and laughs on his way out.
: :
The third conference slot on the list happens to be two days later, as he realizes the next day when he actually thinks to check what time he signed up for. He doesn’t change it, because there’s no issue with it, but he does have to make sure to remember to stay late the next day.
So, he gets into school the day of the conference and realizes then that he has no one to watch Sophia. It’s four when his conference starts, and all of the other kids already have gone home. He doesn’t have to worry though, because the other teacher at the preschool, Ms. Emma, greets him at the door and says with a wide smile, “I’ll be keeping Sophia company while you’re in your conference, Mr. Eisenberg. Andrew is in the other classroom, through that door over there.” She points to the door at the other side of the classroom and smiles wider.
“Okay,” Jesse says. “Awesome. Thanks.”
“No problem!” Ms. Emma says, and directs her attention right to Sophia as soon as Jesse walks away. Jesse makes his way through the first classroom and through the door to the second room. Inside it are lots of children-sized tables, and a conveniently set up larger table on the circle rug with two grownup-sized chairs on either side. Sitting in one of the chairs is Mr. Andrew, flipping through a manila file folder before realizing Jesse has walked in. He perks up, sets the folder down, and grins.
“Hi there, Mr. Eisenberg!” he says right away. Jesse walks over and sits down and suddenly feels like the most oblivious person alive. He definitely did not realize before that Sophia’s new preschool teacher has a British accent.
“Um. Hi,” Jesse finally says. Mr. Andrew smiles more. His teeth are ridiculously bright, Jesse realizes, and he seems to radiate sincerity without even doing anything. “It’s nice to, well, to meet you, I guess.”
“Very,” Mr. Andrew replies. “I always see you coming in and out but one of us has always been a little preoccupied. So, hello! I’m Andrew, Sophia’s teacher.” He extends a hand to Jesse. “A proper introduction,” he adds, and gives Jesse a relaxed shrug.
Jesse quickly shakes Andrew’s hand and says, “I’m Jesse. Proper introductions are good.”
Andrew goes on to talk for a few minutes about the basic structure of the school’s curriculum and Jesse doesn’t pay very much attention to what he’s saying, rather focusing instead on his accent which is so weird and British but not quite and he spends a few moments wondering to himself what part of Britain he might be from. Suddenly Andrew is asking him if he has any questions so far and Jesse nearly jumps.
“Well, sort of,” he says, and quickly wonders if he should just shut up. Andrew raises an eyebrow curiously though and Jesse figures there’s no turning back, so he continues, “So, Sophia thinks Pluto is a planet. Did you tell her it's a planet? Because it’s not. Anymore.”
“I suppose I did tell her it is, yes,” Andrew says with a laugh. “We’ve started the solar system unit, as you’ve probably noticed-Sophia is really, very into it. It’s amazing how intelligent she is. Anyway, I did tell them Pluto is a planet, because it’s such a recent change and there are still so many cases being brought up arguing that it is in fact a planet. Obviously this is quite a bit of information to teach a group of three-to-four-year-olds, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt anything to say it was.”
“I-oh,” Jesse says, and feels incredibly stupid all of a sudden. “Yeah, I-that makes sense.”
“Of course, Sophia came in the next day and asked me about it-she mentioned dwarf planets and I figured she’d talked to you. But I did confirm that Pluto isn’t quite a planet because it’s so small. She says she’d still like to build snowmen on it, though. Fair enough, I figured.”
“Absolutely,” Jesse says. “She’s moved on from bug catching to trying to find Pluto in the sky at night.” Which is sort of adorable, Jesse has to admit, but also frustrating when she barely gets to see a dark sky before heading to bed. She’s stayed up “Just a little late, Daddy!” too many nights now for Jesse’s liking.
“That’s great!” Andrew tells Jesse. “She’s so smart. Here, let me show you her current file.”
Andrew goes on to show Jesse all the papers documenting Sophia’s progress at the preschool. It’s interesting to see the way her letters are getting better (her S’s now face the proper direction, which is a very solid improvement), the way she’s learning to color in the lines and how her humans look a lot less blob-like and a lot more like actual people. Every now and again, Jesse can hear Sophia’s laughter coming from the other room. Often, Jesse will look up at Andrew and there isn’t a moment where he doesn’t look absolutely ecstatic. Jesse is almost glad Sophia’s old teacher left, because Andrew seems so happy to work at the preschool.
This also makes Jesse feel like a jerk for even mentioning Pluto. He wants to say, “Hey, sorry for being that parent, you know, the one that argues the most minute detail in your lesson plan,” but the moment has long passed, and Andrew doesn’t seem to have much cared anyway.
As the meeting is winding down, Jesse finally does apologize, saying, “Sorry about the Pluto thing, by the way. I don’t, like-I don’t want you to think I’m trying to criticize you. I just. I don’t know. I just-”
“Hey,” Andrew interrupts. “It’s not a problem. I’m glad to see that Sophia is getting the opportunity to pick up on these things. And it’s great to see that you want to make sure that she’s receiving the best education possible here!”
Jesse just feels worse after this, like he was an idiot for questioning Andrew to begin with. “Ah, well, yeah. She gets it from me-I don’t know if that’s a good thing, but-”
“Of course it is,” Andrew interrupts again.
“Yeah. Um. Thank you. Okay, I probably should get going. Thanks again.”
“Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome,” Jesse says, and wants to slap himself. That was probably the worst thing he could have said. “Okay, bye,” he adds, and tries not to run too quickly out the door.
: :
Sophia goes on the entire night interviewing Jesse on his conference. What did Mr. Andrew say? Isn’t he silly? Did you see the job chart? And did he show you the drawing I made with the elephant? He said he wanted to keep it because it was so good!
Jesse provides the proper responses to all of Sophia’s questions and, once she goes to bed, spends the rest of his evening wondering why he still feels like the most ridiculous person on the planet. He eventually gets to bed and tries to let it go.
: :
Thankfully, Jesse doesn't have a lot of time to over-analyze what probably was a simple conversation. Because in a cruel twist of fate two days later, Fred, one of their cats, apparently eats a mouse that had been poisoned with rat poison. Jesse does everything in his power to get him to the vet in time, but it ends up being too late and he passes away. Though he’s upset, Jesse spends a lot of time feeling stupid for naming Fred after a Harry Potter character that inevitably dies.
He gets over the fact soon enough, but feels like the worst person on the planet because Sophia is utterly distraught over the loss. She cries for several hours once Jesse sits her down and tells her that Fred isn’t coming back (“But why, Daddy? He was-he was just here.”) It turns into the kind of conversation that no parent ever wants to face, but Jesse does it as bravely and logically as he can.
Jesse can tell that Sophia seems to understand it enough once the questions stop coming constantly and, after a day or two, end altogether. For a week or so though, she clings to George whenever she’s home, carrying him to the dinner table, keeping him in the bathroom when she has her baths, and making sure he sleeps on her bed every night. Jesse has done enough research to know that this is completely normal. He also knows that it’s normal that she consistently brings home drawings of orange cats. (Sometimes it’s Fred and sometimes it’s George. Sometimes she insists it’s neither, but it all depends.)
One afternoon, after about a week has passed, Jesse’s picking Sophia up when Andrew pulls him to the side. “Um, hi there, Mr. Garfield,” Jesse says, not sure how formal he’s supposed to be anymore.
“Andrew, please,” is Andrew’s response, and of course, Jesse thinks. He’s not sure how he could’ve known his preference, but feels stupid for not knowing it, anyway. “I was just hoping to talk to you for a minute about Sophia, if that’s okay?”
“Of course it is,” Jesse replies, and quickly bends down to ask Sophia if she doesn’t mind playing for a few more minutes. She seems happy to, mentioning something about finishing a game with one of her friends, and runs off. Jesse stands back up and looks up at Andrew, who appears to be waiting patiently.
“This may not be my place to interfere, but I’ve noticed that Sophia has been behaving somewhat differently recently. She mentioned once something about Fred dying?”
“Oh,” Jesse says, “yeah. One of our cats recently passed away.”
“That would certainly explain all the recent cat drawings,” Andrew says, and gives Jesse a sympathetic sort of smile.
“Yeah. It’s been her first real experience with death, except for her mother, but she was too young to remember that. So this has hit her sort of hard. We’ve been working on it.”
“It seems like you’ve been doing a very good job with it. I just wanted to tell you that. It also helps to know exactly who passed away. I’ll try to help work on it here, too.”
“Thanks,” Jesse says, and puts his hands in his pockets.
“It’s no problem.” There’s a short pause. Andrew looks like he’s contemplating saying something. Finally, he says, “You know, they say after a family pet passes away that it helps to wait to replace them, but I almost feel like in Sophia’s case, it would help to introduce a new pet. This is-please, tell me if you think I should stop talking-because you may not like the idea, which is fine. But she really loves animals and I’m sure you’ve seen all the studies about the benefits of pets.”
“We still have another cat,” Jesse says. “George.”
“Fred and George? Like from Harry Potter?” Andrew asks, and suddenly looks like he’s trying to suppress a giggle.
“Exactly,” Jesse says, and can’t help but laugh a little himself. “Bright orange brothers. They were really mischievous as kittens. It seemed fitting.” Andrew does laugh after Jesse says that, and it’s so genuine and it just makes Jesse want to smile.
“That’s great,” Andrew says. His laughter dies down and he continues, “Anyway, a new pet obviously was just an idea, and with you having George still, I suppose you could forget I said anything.”
“No, no,” Jesse replies. “I was thinking about the same thing on and off. I may wait a while, but something tells me getting a new one would be the right thing to do. I normally have at least four cats. It was weird enough having two, but just one seems wrong.”
“Four?” Andrew asks.
“Yeah. I gave away two of them to friends once Sophia was born. They were a little too territorial. I didn’t trust them. Too scheming, you know?” Jesse shrugs and Andrew laughs.
“Oh my,” he says. “Well, I’ll leave it up to you, but I just wanted to see what was up and throw in my two cents. Sorry to hold you up, but thank you!”
“What? No, thank you,” Jesse says, and shakes his head a few times, no longer sure if he’s being logical. “I’m going to go try and pry Sophia away from the blocks, but yeah, I appreciate it.” Jesse excuses himself and heads over to where Sophia is. It takes a minute to convince her that the blocks will still be there tomorrow, but finally she gets up, and the both of them say bye to Andrew on their way out.
: :
After his conversation with Andrew, Jesse spends an alarming amount of time thinking about him and the two times they’ve spoken. He’s not entirely sure why (he tries to avoid pinpointing the exact reason, truthfully), and as often as he can, he attempts to push the thoughts away. But no matter how much he tries, he always manages to wonder dumb things about Andrew-like what hair products he uses to get his hair so effortlessly poofy or what toothpaste he uses to get his teeth so white. Or does he use white strips? Maybe he gets them professionally whitened?
This goes on for about a month. During this time, Sophia seems to completely recover from what happened to Fred. Her preschool starts its weather unit, which she takes a lot of interest in. Jesse had just bought her a packet of glow-in-the-dark planets for her room that she immediately makes him put on her ceiling. She draws a picture of a sun that she tapes up on her wall, and explains to Jesse that the ceiling is nighttime and the wall is daytime. Jesse considers explaining to her that technically the sun still belongs on the ceiling, but decides against it, and compliments her room design instead.
One day, Jesse buys an abridged version of Don Quixote that he ends up reading to Sophia every night. It still should be way too difficult for her, and yet she becomes completely enraptured by the book anyway. She asks tons of questions about it until she has a pretty solid understanding of the plot. One day at school she draws what she insists is a giant windmill. Jesse puts the drawing on the fridge feeling proud.
After school one afternoon, Jesse lets Sophia play outside for a bit, because it’s finally nice out after several weeks of on and off rain. She absolutely adores getting to see the sun again. Jesse plays with her a little, but mostly watches as she runs around and investigates, looking for earthworms, mostly. She spends a little bit of time talking about the weather, and how it’s hotter because the sun is out, and eventually, she hides behind a bush. Jesse assumes right away that she’s found a bug, or something, but five and then ten minutes pass, and she’s still completely captivated by whatever is behind it. Instinctively, Jesse knows something is up and walks over to the bush to see what Sophia is doing.
“Hey, Soph,” he starts, but Sophia turns around and glares at him.
She exclaims ironically loudly, “Shhhhhhhhh! He’s sleeping.”
“Who’s sleeping?” Jesse asks.
“Sancho Panza,” Sophia says, and moves over a little so Jesse can see what it is she’s talking about. It’s not really an it, as much as a who-a tiny gray kitten curled up in a ball under the bush. Its missing the tip of its ear and its fur is kind of patchy. It looks innocent as can be, but Jesse still instinctively freaks.
“Sophia, do not touch him,” he says, and guides her away from him.
“Daddy, don’t worry, he’s really nice. He licked my finger and everything.”
“He licked you?” Jesse asks incredulously.
“Yeah!” Sophia says, and giggles. “It was all scratchy, like when George licks me.”
Jesse’s not really sure how to make his point of, but what if it’s rabid or diseased or has fleas? but he attempts anyway and says, “I know he looks cute, but sometimes cats that don’t live in houses can get sick and then make us sick, too.”
“But-” Sophia starts, but stops when she sees Jesse shake his head.
“If something like this happens again-if you see a kitten or any animal outside, you need to ask me first before petting it. Now stand up and come with me.” Sophia obliges very reluctantly. Jesse has fostered several cats and has dealt with strays before, and does his best to follow basic procedures. He makes sure its mother isn’t nearby, because if she were, that would be asking for trouble. She isn’t, so then, despite himself, he picks the kitten up very carefully.
“See?” Sophia asks when it doesn’t immediately attack. “I told you he’s nice.”
“Better safe than sorry,” Jesse says. They walk up to their apartment slowly. The kitten wakes up a little, which makes him jump, but it just moves a little in his arm and starts to purr. Jesse wishes it would stop, because the last thing he needs is a cute cat earning his affection, but it doesn’t stop, so all he does is quietly sigh and pet it once or twice.
Once they get inside, he finds a box and inside of it he puts a few blankets and a warm water bottle wrapped in a towel. He sets the kitten inside and then corrals George into Sophia’s room (he’s become suddenly territorial and hissed enough times to make Jesse want to err on the side of caution). Sophia is providing Jesse a steady stream of questions ranging from “What’s the water bottle for?” to “How old is he?” to “Can we keep him? Can we? Can we?”
Jesse does the best he can to provide decent answers (the answer to her last question being “maybe,” which leaves Sophia thrilled), and he works on giving the kitten food. He spends another half an hour explaining to Sophia that she’s not allowed to play with the kitten until the next day, after Jesse takes it to the veterinarian while she’s at school, to make sure it’s healthy.
“Like a checkup?” Sophia asks.
“Exactly like a checkup,” Jesse says. Sophia still looks a little disappointed that she’s not allowed to play with him. “Why don’t you go keep George company?” Jesse suggests. “You don’t want him to think you forgot about him, do you?”
“Well, no...,” Sophia says. “But...I want to play with Sancho, too. What if he thinks I forgot about him?”
“You’ll be able to see him plenty. Right now let’s give George some attention. Then you’re getting a bath and getting set for bed.”
“Can we read more Don Quixote tonight?” Sophia asks, and Jesse nods. “The part with the windmill?”
“Again?” Jesse says, because they’ve reread that part probably three times. Sophia nods eagerly, so he can’t help but laugh and say, “Okay, sure.”
: :
The next day, after dropping Sophia off at school and getting some work done at home, Jesse finally gets the stray kitten into his cat carrier which is absolutely gigantic for such a little cat. Jesse figures it’s for the better-extra space and all-but makes sure to be extra careful driving so that the kitten doesn’t go flying to the opposite side of the carrier every time he turns.
He gets to the vet’s office and waits for probably, like, twelve hours. He sort of worries to himself because he has this sudden enormous fear that they won’t let him keep the kitten. He doesn’t know if he’s worried because he’s afraid of Sophia’s potential disappointment, or because of his own. Kittens are endearing, okay? He’s relieved once he’s finally called back.
Then the vet rambles a lot but says that the kitten looks mostly healthy. The patchy fur is probably just some allergic reaction to something outside. He insists on further testing for the diseases that “can’t be seen,” prescribes an antibiotic for its ear “just in case,” prescribes something else for its fur, give it its shots, and insists on scheduling to have it neutered.
He never says that Jesse can’t keep the kitten. Jesse asks, just to be sure, “Can we keep him? I have a four-year-old daughter, and I don’t want her to get sick and die from anything he might have, but I also don’t want to let her down and have her hate me forever.”
The vet insists that Jesse can rest easy knowing Sophia isn’t going to die or suddenly turn against him. Anything that the kitten might have won’t spread to humans. He’s completely safe to be around and, even better, Jesse is allowed to bring the kitten back home the same day. When Sophia sees it curled up on her bed when she gets home from school, she starts jumping up and down and thanking Jesse profusely. She plays with him the entire evening and helps get his food ready and she decorates the box that has inadvertently become his new bed.
In the following days, Sancho really does prove to be like the Don Quixote character, loyally following Sophia everywhere she goes. Unlike George, who thinks it’s funny or something when she gets into trouble, Sancho will meow loudly which Jesse finds to be a nice quality. And thankfully, Sancho Panza doesn’t die at the end of Don Quixote, so Jesse likes to think he’ll live a long and healthy life as Sophia’s sidekick.
part two
Author: soporta
Rating/Warnings: PG for excessive fluff.
Pairing: Andrew/Jesse
POV: 3rd
Summary: Jesse starts to wonder whether it's normal that he's fallen in love with his daughter's preschool teacher. He kind of has his doubts. ~16,000 words
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Title comes from "Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley.
Author Notes: First attempt at TSN RPF. All for starsandsands (and all her fault).
“Daddy, Daddy, not so tight. I don’t like my braids that tight. It makes my head hurt.”
Braiding is an art that Jesse probably will never conquer, considering he’s been doing it every day for almost two years now-ever since Sophia’s hair has been long enough to braid. He does his best, but they always turn out a little funky and lopsided. He’s learned that when he does one in the back, instead of two on the sides, she can’t actually see the braid to complain, but today she insisted on two. The problem is that they’re running late and there’s no time to fix the horrid mess he’s made of her hair. He has to leave it as is and say, “Sorry, Soph, there’s no time to fix it.”
Sophia looks a little like she wants to throw a fit, but Jesse distracts her long enough by quickly handing her her favorite glasses, the ones with the square rims that she’s outgrowing but refuses to have replaced, and then her lunchbox, and then a toothbrush, and her jacket, before suddenly realizing she’ll probably fall over if he hands her anything else. He takes everything back but the toothbrush and says, “Go brush your teeth, please. Get this all done and we may have time to fix those braids of yours.” Sophia sighs but obliges, knowing better than to interfere with Jesse’s plans when he’s feeling as frantic as he is right now. Jesse is grateful, and reminds himself to try to google again when he gets the chance how to braid hair without it looking like a tangled ponytail.
Sophia brushes her teeth and puts on her jacket and glasses, and she clutches her lunchbox while bouncing up and down. She waits for Jesse to get his own jacket on and find his car keys before finally looking down at her. “Braids?” she asks with a wide grin.
“Yeah,” Jesse says with an exasperated laugh, and bends down to try again to put together two coherent braids.
He doesn’t, but he has to be at a meeting in forty-five minutes, and there’s no time to fix them again. Sophia sighs, but otherwise accepts the fact, and he gets her into her car seat and they leave right away for her preschool.
They get there and he jogs quickly inside. Once he notices Sophia running to catch up, he slows down and reminds himself to prioritize. He gets her into the classroom, kisses her on the cheek, tells her to have a good day and to have lots of fun and that he’ll see her at three. She agrees and smiles and waves goodbye. He waves back, but once he’s around the corner, picks up his pace to try to get to work on time.
: :
So, mornings are hectic, but thankfully things always are calmer after that, once all of his meetings and deadlines are over with, and he gets to work from home again. (He thought working from home as a writer meant never having to leave his house for work-related things, but he was sorely, sorely mistaken. Apparently, if he wants his works published and paychecks made, he has to actually leave his house, because apparently the opportunities aren’t coming to him). Once Sophia is home from school, he’s much better about focusing his attention on her.
They drive home from school and she tells Jesse eagerly about her day (“And don’t worry about the braids, Daddy, because Mr. Andrew helped me fix them.” Jesse turns around at a red light to look that them and Sophia shakes her head back and forth, showing off the braids which, all right, are sort of impressively neat.) Once they get home, she tosses her lunchbox on the ground (they’re working on cleanliness, okay?), Jesse reminds her to pick it up, she pets their two cats, Fred and George (two bright orange tomcats), and then she sits down for a snack and continues to go on talking about her day.
It’s a routine, but it’s a nice one that Jesse has no complaints about. Sophia adores talking, which she most certainly inherited from her mother, but Jesse likes listening, so it’s okay. At this point, he hangs up any art she made that day up on the fridge-it rotates a lot, but he makes sure to always have three or four of her favorite drawings up there. Then she plays with her toys while he works in the living room for a bit, and then he makes dinner and they eat. Then she bathes and gets ready for bed.
They go to Jesse’s room and sit down next to each other on his big bed. She buries herself under his blankets and listens extremely attentively while he reads her a story. This part isn’t just routine for them; it borders on ritual. One of the only times he ever got a babysitter for her was just under a year ago, and, though she was nice (he could only hope, after two interviews with her and, like, a million background checks), he forgot to tell her about their bedtime story routine. When the babysitter didn’t do it right, Sophia started crying for what was apparently hours. He ended up getting a phone call halfway into the event he was at, and he came home immediately. He made note to work on easing the separation anxiety, but he’s thinking that preschool has helped.
Even so, the stories are still a must. They read a lot of tougher books, some of Jesse's favorites, which he knows she doesn't understand fully, but reads them anyway because she insists. Even though she’s already four, they revert back to some of the more simple Dr. Seuss books now and again, because she’s already determined to learn how to read. She’s doing very well (she can recognize “Cat” and “Hat” and other similar words), and Jesse is very proud of her. He’s also grateful she shares with him a love for reading, because he doesn’t know what he’d do if she didn’t.
After they finish the story, Jesse walks with Sophia back to her room and tucks her in and tells her goodnight. Now and again he has to check for monsters or shut the curtains a certain way or buy a nightlight, but for the most part, it’s one of the more simple aspects of their routine.
: :
Sophia’s mother was a wonderful person, charming and sweet, but ended up being the wrong person for Jesse. They dated for quite a while-Jesse lost his virginity to her, and it was around then that he realized maybe something about their relationship was off. He was frantic for a while about trying to pinpoint exactly what went wrong-what it was that he did to screw everything up, but never could figure it out. Finally, the both of them sat down and talked, and it all made sense.
Not at first, though. At first, it mostly was Jesse rambling on and on (though he doesn’t talk much, once he starts, he finds it difficult to stop, especially when he’s nervous), trying to explain what he thought it was that he did wrong. He wasn't really sure what it was, though, and it mostly ended with him being the worst person in the world and saying, feeling horrible, "It's just-it's not you, it's me, you know?" He realized when he finally took a moment to stop talking that Rebecca was laughing quietly to herself.
"I know," she said, and made this face at Jesse, all innocent eyes and best intentions.
"What?" Jesse asked, feeling himself turning red.
"I know," she said, and laughed even harder.
She knew Jesse was gay before he did, but ultimately, that was okay. She didn't seem upset, and insisted that they remain friends, and funnily, Jesse could sense the sincerity in the statement. He agreed and for a short while they parted ways. They would email now and again-awkward smalltalk that evolved back into friendly conversations that flowed smoothly. And one day, there was a knock on Jesse's door, and Rebecca was outside, biting her lip and staring at Jesse with big eyes that were starting to water. She looked like she was doing everything in her power not to cry. Jesse had never, ever seen her cry before, so he knew it was serious. He frowned, but let her in and sat her on the couch. He made her tea-green tea, her favorite, and then she did start to cry.
"I can't drink that," she said quietly, staring at her feet.
"What do you mean? You drink it all the time."
"It has caffeine. I can't-I can't drink caffeine."
"Why not?" Jesse asked. (Looking back, he realizes now how stupid the question was. Twenty-twenty hindsight, he always thinks, and tries to let it go.)
Rebecca rolled her eyes, wiping them before crying even harder. "I'm pregnant," she said, almost incredulously. Suddenly, it made sense.
Jesse apologized probably a hundred times that evening. He's no longer sure whether it was because of the tea, or because of impregnating her to begin with, but all he could say was, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Rebecca was never mad at him to begin with, not even a little. She spent the night at Jesse's, and the next day, they both felt a little more composed.
They talked for hours about every detail of their futures, covering the ifs and buts and eventually coming to a mutual agreement. They would have the baby, and they would both raise it, more than likely taking turns. There was no reason to deprive the child of having both parents-that would just be cruel, they agreed. They also agreed that a better plan would possibly arise, but until then, it was decided. So they bought cribs and clothes and diapers, and they went to doctor's appointments and lamaze and all of that, and eventually, fewer than nine months later, Rebecca had Sophia.
Their plan went fine for the first year. Both of them were extremely happy-they both loved Sophia ridiculously. But then, on one of Jesse's days with Sophia, Rebecca never showed up with her. He called her phone, but there was no answer. An hour later, Rebecca’s mother called, sounding frantic, saying that she was at the hospital and that something happened to Rebecca. She didn’t say anything else. Jesse immediately rushed over. After he arrived, all Rebecca’s mom could say was, “She’s gone, Jesse. She’s gone.”
Jesse learned the next day that it had been a drunk driver that killed her. He was ready to hate the world, everything in it, because Rebecca had been the best friend he'd had, and the best mother, but he realized he still had Sophia, who he loved. She didn’t deserve to have a dad that hated everything, so he decided not to hate the world. He took the baby back to his house and promised that, though Rebecca was gone, he would be the best parent he could be. Now and again, he wonders to himself whether or not he lives up to the promise, but most of the time he likes to think that Rebecca would be proud.
: :
Three years after that night and Sophia is a happy, wonderful four-year-old that goes to school and reads stories and pets their cats. But she also, like any four-year, likes to get into a fair amount of trouble, like the evening when Jesse comes back into the living room after making dinner and sees glitter everywhere. Sophia herself is coated in it-it’s all stuck to her face and her clothes and her hair is shimmering. When she looks up at Jesse, even more glitter sprinkles onto her face. Then, then he sees the rest of the room, the glitter in the carpet, the glitter on George, who’s sitting next to Sophia and betraying Jesse by not stopping this situation. He’s also completely covered in a bright red glitter that contrasts horribly against his orange fur.
“Sophia May,” Jesse starts, using the most authoritative tone he can muster up. “I want you to tell me right now what happened here.” There’s a piece of paper in front of Sophia and a bottle of glue, so Jesse already has a pretty solid idea of what happened, but he crosses his arms and waits patiently for Sophia’s explanation anyway.
“Well,” she says, and looks down at the mess she made. “I just wanted to make a drawing with the glitter, but then...it spilled.”
“It spilled,” Jesse repeats, and wonders to himself how a bottle of glitter spills on the floor and ends up on the couch across the room. “What did I tell you about using glitter?”
Sophia furrows her eyebrows like it’s finally sinking in that she’s in trouble. “You said not to use it without asking you first.”
“And where do we use glitter?”
“At the table, with newspaper.” Jesse nods-at least she remembers, right? She looks upset now (she hates getting in trouble), and says, “George wanted a drawing and he likes glitter. I’m sorry, Daddy!”
Jesse sighs, trying hard to steady himself and remember that just because she gives him those eyes doesn't mean she's allowed to get away with what she did. He frowns again and states, "You're going to help me clean this up, okay? Then you're getting a bath. And the next time we use glitter, we use it at the table."
"With newspaper," Sophia adds, and Jesse nods in approval.
"All right," he says, "let's get to work."
: :
The next day is another horribly frenzied morning that leaves Jesse out of breath as he’s trying frantically to get the both of them out the door on time. Sophia already has her jacket and glasses on and Jesse quickly pulls her hair into a messy ponytail. He grabs her lunchbox and they run to the car before he hands it to her, and gets her into her car seat. He rushes to the driver’s seat and goes five miles over the speed limit the entire way there. It’s worrisome for him (“I’m gonna get pulled over, I’m gonna get pulled over,” he mutters to himself the entire way there), but finally, they arrive at the preschool. He gets Sophia inside, tells her goodbye, and waves in her general direction on his way out.
After school he picks her up, and Sophia rambles on and on about her day before mentioning in passing, “And I didn’t have any lunch but Mr. Andrew gave me some food and then I went outside and played house with Maggie and we-”
“You didn’t have lunch?” Jesse interrupts. “What do you mean?”
“There was nothing in my lunchbox,” Sophia says. Jesse sees her shrug in the rearview mirror like it’s no big deal. “You forgot again.”
“I forgot again,” Jesse says, and thinks back to the morning and remembers doing everything except packing a lunch. “Oh man, Soph, sweetie, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Sophia says. “I already told you, Mr. Andrew had food that he gave me.”
It makes Jesse feel a little better, but that feeling promptly disappears when he gets home and has Sophia pick up her lunchbox from the floor. He opens it up, part of him still hoping that maybe she was lying (which she never does), or that she just didn’t see the Tupperware in it (he knows that’s unlikely), and sure enough, the lunchbox is empty, save for a little post-it note stuck to the bottom. Jesse takes it out and reads it. It says:
Mr. Eisenberg: Sophia came into school without a lunch today. Normally it’s okay because we have a refrigerator and a small supply of food for moments like these, but this isn’t the first time it’s happened with her. Maybe you could put some kind of reminder up on your fridge, or something? That said, Sophia is otherwise doing very great here. Hopefully I’ll get to see you at parent-teacher conferences! Thanks, Andrew Garfield. :)
The handwriting is ridiculously tiny (yet still miraculously neat), because Mr. Andrew apparently decided to cram the entire note onto one side of the post-it instead of going to the backside. Jesse feels like an idiot. He figures Mr. Andrew probably thinks he’s the stupidest, worst dad ever for not even being able to provide Sophia with three solid meals a day. Even so, he takes the post-it and sticks it onto the refrigerator and decides then to start packing her lunches the night before.
: :
Sophia has always had a lot of ambition for her age, always committing to what she does. She decided when she was three that she wanted to be a scientist, and even now still goes outside with the bug-catching kit she got for Christmas last year and spends hours searching for bugs and watching them under her magnifying glass. She loves going to the local pond and feeding the ducks (“The pretty ones are the boys! They’re mallards, right, Daddy? The girls are pretty too but green is-well, it’s my favorite color so I think the boy ducks are the prettiest.” Jesse thought it was cute until realizing that she was already calling boys pretty and suddenly he wanted to hit pause and so that she would only use the term “pretty” with boy ducks forever, and not human boys. He’s getting better about letting her grow up, but that’s mostly because he tries not to think about it.)
A lot of the time she brings home from school drawings of animals and leaves in the autumn and once she brought home a drawing of the Earth that she had titled global warming. Jesse still wonders where she heard the term from, but he left it on the fridge for a long time, feeling proud (and slightly disconcerted) that she could even recognize the term to begin with.
He’s thinking, given her love for animals above anything else, that she may end up a veterinarian, but when he asks Sophia what she wants to be, she just answers, “A scientist,” like it’s a perfectly valid answer.
: :
“We started learning about the solar system today!” Sophia exclaims excitedly one afternoon after school. “And we talked about the planets!”
“That’s great,” Jesse says, setting Sophia’s lunchbox down on the counter. “Do you have a favorite planet yet?”
“Pluto,” Sophia says excitedly, her eyes widening. “It’s really cold there! You could probably build snowmen all year!”
Jesse frowns and says, “Pluto isn’t a planet, though, honey.”
“Mr. Andrew said it is. He said it’s the tiniest and really cold. And I said I wanted to build snowmen on Pluto and I even drew a picture!” She runs quickly over to the pile of papers Jesse had taken from her cubby when he picked her up. She tosses all the papers that aren’t her drawing on the table, and after a minute pulls one out and exclaims, “Look!”
Jesse takes the paper and he sees a tiny purple circle that he can only assume is Pluto, because on top of it is an enormous blue snowman that’s smiling. “Very nice,” he says, “but Pluto isn’t a planet. It used to be, but it isn’t anymore.”
He knows it might sound a little harsh to be arguing with his child like this but she deserves to know the truth. He never said it was fair that Pluto isn’t a planet. He wishes it were, but he thinks it’s weird that people can’t come to terms with the fact that it isn’t. Also, he’s a little upset that she was taught the wrong thing in preschool. He reminds himself to ask her teacher about it.
“Why isn’t it a planet anymore?” Sophia asks, and Jesse starts into a long story about how scientists decide what are and aren't planets.
: :
One of the papers in the stack is a form that states at the top in big letters and a wacky font, PARENT-TEACHER CONFERENCES. The rest of the paper is written in a normal font that explains all the typical conference stuff. It’s not mandatory but is highly encouraged, signups are on a sheet of paper on the classroom door, first-come, first-served, and so on. Jesse mostly skims over it and figures he’ll sign up early and ask about Pluto and all of that. He’s not stressed about it (which is funny since he usually stresses about everything), and sets the sheet on the stand next to the front door so that he won’t forget about it.
Sophia asks him about it when she sees it, making him help her read out the words at the top. He summarizes to her what a parent-teacher conference is and she gets very excited and states loudly, “You get to meet Mr. Andrew!”
“I know,” Jesse says, and laughs. “He is your teacher, isn’t he?”
“Yes!” she shouts. “He’s really funny and you should have him show you our job chart. This week I get to feed the fish!” She pauses for a minute, but before Jesse can go to reply her eyes widen and she asks, “Can I go with? Please, please, please, please?”
“No, Soph,” Jesse says right away. “You’re not a parent or a teacher, are you?”
“I’m Kitty’s Mommy,” she states right away, sounding almost offended that Jesse didn’t recognize the fact. Kitty is the stuffed giraffe that she’s had since she was a baby. It’s no longer in perfect condition-Rebecca’s mom has had to sew its button eyes back on twice now, and it’s very raggedy in general, but Sophia clings to it still and insists she’s its Mommy.
“Kitty doesn’t count, I’m afraid,” Jesse says. “Kitty isn’t enrolled at the preschool, which means you’re not allowed to go to the conference.” Sophia looks a little dejected, so Jesse says, “But I will be sure to look at the job chart and anything else you need me to see. And then I’ll tell you everything Mr. Andrew tells me. But you can’t tell him I told you that. Okay?”
“Okay,” Sophia says and squeals with excitement. “I won’t!”
Sophia adores Mr. Andrew, one of the two teachers working at the preschool. He was a replacement for Sophia’s old teacher, a nice woman who quit after having a child of her own. Jesse only has spoken with Mr. Andrew once, and he seemed pretty nice. Jesse figures it’s good that he’s going to actually be able to sit down and talk to him-he feels like it’s weird not to have done so with the person that’s teaching his daughter how to write and color and play with other kids. Since Sophia adores him, he figures it’s okay that he hasn’t yet, but decides after talking with her to make it one of his higher priorities.
: :
Jesse and Sophia get to school the next day without any need to hurry, which is a pleasant change of pace. While they were getting ready, Sophia seemed to rush a little, bouncing and saying, “Come on, we’re gonna be late.” Jesse isn’t sure if she said so because he’s made her horribly accustomed to rushing or because she’s excited for him to sign up for conferences. Because they get to school and she does everything in her power to literally drag him over to the signups. He rolls with it and staggers over toward the paper and she grabs him a pink marker from the marker bin and says, “Do it quick!” He stares at the marker and laughs, but scribbles his name down for the third conference slot on the list.
“Okay?” he asks Sophia. She beams.
“Yes! See you after school!”
“Sounds like a plan,” Jesse says, and laughs on his way out.
: :
The third conference slot on the list happens to be two days later, as he realizes the next day when he actually thinks to check what time he signed up for. He doesn’t change it, because there’s no issue with it, but he does have to make sure to remember to stay late the next day.
So, he gets into school the day of the conference and realizes then that he has no one to watch Sophia. It’s four when his conference starts, and all of the other kids already have gone home. He doesn’t have to worry though, because the other teacher at the preschool, Ms. Emma, greets him at the door and says with a wide smile, “I’ll be keeping Sophia company while you’re in your conference, Mr. Eisenberg. Andrew is in the other classroom, through that door over there.” She points to the door at the other side of the classroom and smiles wider.
“Okay,” Jesse says. “Awesome. Thanks.”
“No problem!” Ms. Emma says, and directs her attention right to Sophia as soon as Jesse walks away. Jesse makes his way through the first classroom and through the door to the second room. Inside it are lots of children-sized tables, and a conveniently set up larger table on the circle rug with two grownup-sized chairs on either side. Sitting in one of the chairs is Mr. Andrew, flipping through a manila file folder before realizing Jesse has walked in. He perks up, sets the folder down, and grins.
“Hi there, Mr. Eisenberg!” he says right away. Jesse walks over and sits down and suddenly feels like the most oblivious person alive. He definitely did not realize before that Sophia’s new preschool teacher has a British accent.
“Um. Hi,” Jesse finally says. Mr. Andrew smiles more. His teeth are ridiculously bright, Jesse realizes, and he seems to radiate sincerity without even doing anything. “It’s nice to, well, to meet you, I guess.”
“Very,” Mr. Andrew replies. “I always see you coming in and out but one of us has always been a little preoccupied. So, hello! I’m Andrew, Sophia’s teacher.” He extends a hand to Jesse. “A proper introduction,” he adds, and gives Jesse a relaxed shrug.
Jesse quickly shakes Andrew’s hand and says, “I’m Jesse. Proper introductions are good.”
Andrew goes on to talk for a few minutes about the basic structure of the school’s curriculum and Jesse doesn’t pay very much attention to what he’s saying, rather focusing instead on his accent which is so weird and British but not quite and he spends a few moments wondering to himself what part of Britain he might be from. Suddenly Andrew is asking him if he has any questions so far and Jesse nearly jumps.
“Well, sort of,” he says, and quickly wonders if he should just shut up. Andrew raises an eyebrow curiously though and Jesse figures there’s no turning back, so he continues, “So, Sophia thinks Pluto is a planet. Did you tell her it's a planet? Because it’s not. Anymore.”
“I suppose I did tell her it is, yes,” Andrew says with a laugh. “We’ve started the solar system unit, as you’ve probably noticed-Sophia is really, very into it. It’s amazing how intelligent she is. Anyway, I did tell them Pluto is a planet, because it’s such a recent change and there are still so many cases being brought up arguing that it is in fact a planet. Obviously this is quite a bit of information to teach a group of three-to-four-year-olds, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt anything to say it was.”
“I-oh,” Jesse says, and feels incredibly stupid all of a sudden. “Yeah, I-that makes sense.”
“Of course, Sophia came in the next day and asked me about it-she mentioned dwarf planets and I figured she’d talked to you. But I did confirm that Pluto isn’t quite a planet because it’s so small. She says she’d still like to build snowmen on it, though. Fair enough, I figured.”
“Absolutely,” Jesse says. “She’s moved on from bug catching to trying to find Pluto in the sky at night.” Which is sort of adorable, Jesse has to admit, but also frustrating when she barely gets to see a dark sky before heading to bed. She’s stayed up “Just a little late, Daddy!” too many nights now for Jesse’s liking.
“That’s great!” Andrew tells Jesse. “She’s so smart. Here, let me show you her current file.”
Andrew goes on to show Jesse all the papers documenting Sophia’s progress at the preschool. It’s interesting to see the way her letters are getting better (her S’s now face the proper direction, which is a very solid improvement), the way she’s learning to color in the lines and how her humans look a lot less blob-like and a lot more like actual people. Every now and again, Jesse can hear Sophia’s laughter coming from the other room. Often, Jesse will look up at Andrew and there isn’t a moment where he doesn’t look absolutely ecstatic. Jesse is almost glad Sophia’s old teacher left, because Andrew seems so happy to work at the preschool.
This also makes Jesse feel like a jerk for even mentioning Pluto. He wants to say, “Hey, sorry for being that parent, you know, the one that argues the most minute detail in your lesson plan,” but the moment has long passed, and Andrew doesn’t seem to have much cared anyway.
As the meeting is winding down, Jesse finally does apologize, saying, “Sorry about the Pluto thing, by the way. I don’t, like-I don’t want you to think I’m trying to criticize you. I just. I don’t know. I just-”
“Hey,” Andrew interrupts. “It’s not a problem. I’m glad to see that Sophia is getting the opportunity to pick up on these things. And it’s great to see that you want to make sure that she’s receiving the best education possible here!”
Jesse just feels worse after this, like he was an idiot for questioning Andrew to begin with. “Ah, well, yeah. She gets it from me-I don’t know if that’s a good thing, but-”
“Of course it is,” Andrew interrupts again.
“Yeah. Um. Thank you. Okay, I probably should get going. Thanks again.”
“Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome,” Jesse says, and wants to slap himself. That was probably the worst thing he could have said. “Okay, bye,” he adds, and tries not to run too quickly out the door.
: :
Sophia goes on the entire night interviewing Jesse on his conference. What did Mr. Andrew say? Isn’t he silly? Did you see the job chart? And did he show you the drawing I made with the elephant? He said he wanted to keep it because it was so good!
Jesse provides the proper responses to all of Sophia’s questions and, once she goes to bed, spends the rest of his evening wondering why he still feels like the most ridiculous person on the planet. He eventually gets to bed and tries to let it go.
: :
Thankfully, Jesse doesn't have a lot of time to over-analyze what probably was a simple conversation. Because in a cruel twist of fate two days later, Fred, one of their cats, apparently eats a mouse that had been poisoned with rat poison. Jesse does everything in his power to get him to the vet in time, but it ends up being too late and he passes away. Though he’s upset, Jesse spends a lot of time feeling stupid for naming Fred after a Harry Potter character that inevitably dies.
He gets over the fact soon enough, but feels like the worst person on the planet because Sophia is utterly distraught over the loss. She cries for several hours once Jesse sits her down and tells her that Fred isn’t coming back (“But why, Daddy? He was-he was just here.”) It turns into the kind of conversation that no parent ever wants to face, but Jesse does it as bravely and logically as he can.
Jesse can tell that Sophia seems to understand it enough once the questions stop coming constantly and, after a day or two, end altogether. For a week or so though, she clings to George whenever she’s home, carrying him to the dinner table, keeping him in the bathroom when she has her baths, and making sure he sleeps on her bed every night. Jesse has done enough research to know that this is completely normal. He also knows that it’s normal that she consistently brings home drawings of orange cats. (Sometimes it’s Fred and sometimes it’s George. Sometimes she insists it’s neither, but it all depends.)
One afternoon, after about a week has passed, Jesse’s picking Sophia up when Andrew pulls him to the side. “Um, hi there, Mr. Garfield,” Jesse says, not sure how formal he’s supposed to be anymore.
“Andrew, please,” is Andrew’s response, and of course, Jesse thinks. He’s not sure how he could’ve known his preference, but feels stupid for not knowing it, anyway. “I was just hoping to talk to you for a minute about Sophia, if that’s okay?”
“Of course it is,” Jesse replies, and quickly bends down to ask Sophia if she doesn’t mind playing for a few more minutes. She seems happy to, mentioning something about finishing a game with one of her friends, and runs off. Jesse stands back up and looks up at Andrew, who appears to be waiting patiently.
“This may not be my place to interfere, but I’ve noticed that Sophia has been behaving somewhat differently recently. She mentioned once something about Fred dying?”
“Oh,” Jesse says, “yeah. One of our cats recently passed away.”
“That would certainly explain all the recent cat drawings,” Andrew says, and gives Jesse a sympathetic sort of smile.
“Yeah. It’s been her first real experience with death, except for her mother, but she was too young to remember that. So this has hit her sort of hard. We’ve been working on it.”
“It seems like you’ve been doing a very good job with it. I just wanted to tell you that. It also helps to know exactly who passed away. I’ll try to help work on it here, too.”
“Thanks,” Jesse says, and puts his hands in his pockets.
“It’s no problem.” There’s a short pause. Andrew looks like he’s contemplating saying something. Finally, he says, “You know, they say after a family pet passes away that it helps to wait to replace them, but I almost feel like in Sophia’s case, it would help to introduce a new pet. This is-please, tell me if you think I should stop talking-because you may not like the idea, which is fine. But she really loves animals and I’m sure you’ve seen all the studies about the benefits of pets.”
“We still have another cat,” Jesse says. “George.”
“Fred and George? Like from Harry Potter?” Andrew asks, and suddenly looks like he’s trying to suppress a giggle.
“Exactly,” Jesse says, and can’t help but laugh a little himself. “Bright orange brothers. They were really mischievous as kittens. It seemed fitting.” Andrew does laugh after Jesse says that, and it’s so genuine and it just makes Jesse want to smile.
“That’s great,” Andrew says. His laughter dies down and he continues, “Anyway, a new pet obviously was just an idea, and with you having George still, I suppose you could forget I said anything.”
“No, no,” Jesse replies. “I was thinking about the same thing on and off. I may wait a while, but something tells me getting a new one would be the right thing to do. I normally have at least four cats. It was weird enough having two, but just one seems wrong.”
“Four?” Andrew asks.
“Yeah. I gave away two of them to friends once Sophia was born. They were a little too territorial. I didn’t trust them. Too scheming, you know?” Jesse shrugs and Andrew laughs.
“Oh my,” he says. “Well, I’ll leave it up to you, but I just wanted to see what was up and throw in my two cents. Sorry to hold you up, but thank you!”
“What? No, thank you,” Jesse says, and shakes his head a few times, no longer sure if he’s being logical. “I’m going to go try and pry Sophia away from the blocks, but yeah, I appreciate it.” Jesse excuses himself and heads over to where Sophia is. It takes a minute to convince her that the blocks will still be there tomorrow, but finally she gets up, and the both of them say bye to Andrew on their way out.
: :
After his conversation with Andrew, Jesse spends an alarming amount of time thinking about him and the two times they’ve spoken. He’s not entirely sure why (he tries to avoid pinpointing the exact reason, truthfully), and as often as he can, he attempts to push the thoughts away. But no matter how much he tries, he always manages to wonder dumb things about Andrew-like what hair products he uses to get his hair so effortlessly poofy or what toothpaste he uses to get his teeth so white. Or does he use white strips? Maybe he gets them professionally whitened?
This goes on for about a month. During this time, Sophia seems to completely recover from what happened to Fred. Her preschool starts its weather unit, which she takes a lot of interest in. Jesse had just bought her a packet of glow-in-the-dark planets for her room that she immediately makes him put on her ceiling. She draws a picture of a sun that she tapes up on her wall, and explains to Jesse that the ceiling is nighttime and the wall is daytime. Jesse considers explaining to her that technically the sun still belongs on the ceiling, but decides against it, and compliments her room design instead.
One day, Jesse buys an abridged version of Don Quixote that he ends up reading to Sophia every night. It still should be way too difficult for her, and yet she becomes completely enraptured by the book anyway. She asks tons of questions about it until she has a pretty solid understanding of the plot. One day at school she draws what she insists is a giant windmill. Jesse puts the drawing on the fridge feeling proud.
After school one afternoon, Jesse lets Sophia play outside for a bit, because it’s finally nice out after several weeks of on and off rain. She absolutely adores getting to see the sun again. Jesse plays with her a little, but mostly watches as she runs around and investigates, looking for earthworms, mostly. She spends a little bit of time talking about the weather, and how it’s hotter because the sun is out, and eventually, she hides behind a bush. Jesse assumes right away that she’s found a bug, or something, but five and then ten minutes pass, and she’s still completely captivated by whatever is behind it. Instinctively, Jesse knows something is up and walks over to the bush to see what Sophia is doing.
“Hey, Soph,” he starts, but Sophia turns around and glares at him.
She exclaims ironically loudly, “Shhhhhhhhh! He’s sleeping.”
“Who’s sleeping?” Jesse asks.
“Sancho Panza,” Sophia says, and moves over a little so Jesse can see what it is she’s talking about. It’s not really an it, as much as a who-a tiny gray kitten curled up in a ball under the bush. Its missing the tip of its ear and its fur is kind of patchy. It looks innocent as can be, but Jesse still instinctively freaks.
“Sophia, do not touch him,” he says, and guides her away from him.
“Daddy, don’t worry, he’s really nice. He licked my finger and everything.”
“He licked you?” Jesse asks incredulously.
“Yeah!” Sophia says, and giggles. “It was all scratchy, like when George licks me.”
Jesse’s not really sure how to make his point of, but what if it’s rabid or diseased or has fleas? but he attempts anyway and says, “I know he looks cute, but sometimes cats that don’t live in houses can get sick and then make us sick, too.”
“But-” Sophia starts, but stops when she sees Jesse shake his head.
“If something like this happens again-if you see a kitten or any animal outside, you need to ask me first before petting it. Now stand up and come with me.” Sophia obliges very reluctantly. Jesse has fostered several cats and has dealt with strays before, and does his best to follow basic procedures. He makes sure its mother isn’t nearby, because if she were, that would be asking for trouble. She isn’t, so then, despite himself, he picks the kitten up very carefully.
“See?” Sophia asks when it doesn’t immediately attack. “I told you he’s nice.”
“Better safe than sorry,” Jesse says. They walk up to their apartment slowly. The kitten wakes up a little, which makes him jump, but it just moves a little in his arm and starts to purr. Jesse wishes it would stop, because the last thing he needs is a cute cat earning his affection, but it doesn’t stop, so all he does is quietly sigh and pet it once or twice.
Once they get inside, he finds a box and inside of it he puts a few blankets and a warm water bottle wrapped in a towel. He sets the kitten inside and then corrals George into Sophia’s room (he’s become suddenly territorial and hissed enough times to make Jesse want to err on the side of caution). Sophia is providing Jesse a steady stream of questions ranging from “What’s the water bottle for?” to “How old is he?” to “Can we keep him? Can we? Can we?”
Jesse does the best he can to provide decent answers (the answer to her last question being “maybe,” which leaves Sophia thrilled), and he works on giving the kitten food. He spends another half an hour explaining to Sophia that she’s not allowed to play with the kitten until the next day, after Jesse takes it to the veterinarian while she’s at school, to make sure it’s healthy.
“Like a checkup?” Sophia asks.
“Exactly like a checkup,” Jesse says. Sophia still looks a little disappointed that she’s not allowed to play with him. “Why don’t you go keep George company?” Jesse suggests. “You don’t want him to think you forgot about him, do you?”
“Well, no...,” Sophia says. “But...I want to play with Sancho, too. What if he thinks I forgot about him?”
“You’ll be able to see him plenty. Right now let’s give George some attention. Then you’re getting a bath and getting set for bed.”
“Can we read more Don Quixote tonight?” Sophia asks, and Jesse nods. “The part with the windmill?”
“Again?” Jesse says, because they’ve reread that part probably three times. Sophia nods eagerly, so he can’t help but laugh and say, “Okay, sure.”
: :
The next day, after dropping Sophia off at school and getting some work done at home, Jesse finally gets the stray kitten into his cat carrier which is absolutely gigantic for such a little cat. Jesse figures it’s for the better-extra space and all-but makes sure to be extra careful driving so that the kitten doesn’t go flying to the opposite side of the carrier every time he turns.
He gets to the vet’s office and waits for probably, like, twelve hours. He sort of worries to himself because he has this sudden enormous fear that they won’t let him keep the kitten. He doesn’t know if he’s worried because he’s afraid of Sophia’s potential disappointment, or because of his own. Kittens are endearing, okay? He’s relieved once he’s finally called back.
Then the vet rambles a lot but says that the kitten looks mostly healthy. The patchy fur is probably just some allergic reaction to something outside. He insists on further testing for the diseases that “can’t be seen,” prescribes an antibiotic for its ear “just in case,” prescribes something else for its fur, give it its shots, and insists on scheduling to have it neutered.
He never says that Jesse can’t keep the kitten. Jesse asks, just to be sure, “Can we keep him? I have a four-year-old daughter, and I don’t want her to get sick and die from anything he might have, but I also don’t want to let her down and have her hate me forever.”
The vet insists that Jesse can rest easy knowing Sophia isn’t going to die or suddenly turn against him. Anything that the kitten might have won’t spread to humans. He’s completely safe to be around and, even better, Jesse is allowed to bring the kitten back home the same day. When Sophia sees it curled up on her bed when she gets home from school, she starts jumping up and down and thanking Jesse profusely. She plays with him the entire evening and helps get his food ready and she decorates the box that has inadvertently become his new bed.
In the following days, Sancho really does prove to be like the Don Quixote character, loyally following Sophia everywhere she goes. Unlike George, who thinks it’s funny or something when she gets into trouble, Sancho will meow loudly which Jesse finds to be a nice quality. And thankfully, Sancho Panza doesn’t die at the end of Don Quixote, so Jesse likes to think he’ll live a long and healthy life as Sophia’s sidekick.
part two