Today's the Day 1/2
Author: 8030baxley
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: R
Disclaimer: All characters mentioned are the intellectual property of Shonda Rhimes/ABC/Disney Co. They are being used for fun and not profit.
The slight creaking of the bedroom door makes the fuzziness of a dream fade away. I keep my eyes shut tight because I have a pretty good idea of who it is. She gives it away with a little shriek right before I feel the bed give at my feet. Sure enough, within a few seconds, my body is bouncing off the mattress. “Allie!”
“Sorry,” She stops the jumping and lands hard directly on my rib cage. I continue to lie there with my eyes screwed shut. I hate the way the light peeks in from the windows in this room. It’s always right into my face. I can feel Allie staring at me, though. I know I’m trying her eight year old patience something fierce.
I squint just a little and shut my eyes immediately.
Of course, that just makes her giggle, “Wake up!”
“Why?”
“’Cause Mom said!”
“It’s Saturday, Al,” I roll over. “It’s the day all the good, decent people get to sleep in.”
“I’m awake.”
“And you’ve made my point,” I mumble pulling the sheets up over my face.
She quickly yanks them back down, “Dad said you shouldn’t sleep all day.”
“Did he really or are you just saying that?”
“I’ll go get him if you want,” she says making a move to bolt.
“No, no,” I grab an eight year old knee and hang on. “No, don’t get Dad.”
“Okay, but I’m not leaving ‘til you’re up.”
“I’m up, okay,” I sit up in bed to prove it. “See.”
Allie hops up and runs out of my room, leaving the door open. Which means I can hear when she screams from the top of the stairs, “She’s up!” And then the return message, which in case I didn’t hear it the first time, she comes back to the door and repeats, “Mom says you need to get down for breakfast before it’s gone.”
“I heard her Allie,” I swing my feet onto the floor. “I can just grab something to eat at home.”
“This is home,” she whines. Crap! Wrong thing to say. It really upsets my little sister when I refer to Dad’s house as anything but ‘home.’ Even though, I barely ever stay here anymore. I do a quick scan. It’s still pink. It still has butterflies on the walls. The picture I have framed on the bedside table is one of my Dad, Lexie, Allie, and I when she was just a few months old.
“I meant at my moms’, Al,” I say, trying in vain for her to stop doing the pouty face.
“Come on Sofe, just come and eat breakfast with me, you hardly ever do that,” she’s wearing me down. She tucks a strand of reddish, brown hair behind her ear and flashes her blue eyes at me. Damn, Sloan charm. I’ve used it enough to know when it’s being directed back at me.
“Allie, I stayed all night here because you begged me not to go,” I’m not going down without a fight. “I told you I have important things to do today.”
“Just stay a little longer.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll be down in a second.”
I watch Allie retreat and take a deep breath. It was true, I had important stuff to do today. I guess I should be thankful that I have a little sister who is just dying to spend time with me. She really can’t get enough of me, which is quite the change from my brother. Not that we don’t get along, and not that I don’t love my brother, but he’s almost a teenager. He’s much too cool to beg me to be around.
“Sofe!” The loud booming of my dad’s voice floats up the stairs. “Lex says to hurry down, kid.”
While sitting at breakfast with Dad, Lexie, and Allie, I realize it’s been a really long time since I’ve done this. It’s a treat, don’t get me wrong. But, well, I have school, and a little dinky part time job, and friends. Plus, well, I live with my moms. And yeah, Dad lives on the same block. Actually, Dad bought the closest house he could get to my Moms’ after we moved from our old apartment complex. We laugh about it regularly, because he bought the house, tore it down, and then built the house he wanted. All of this, just to be as close to us, to me, as possible. It’s sweet when you don’t think about the creepiness. So, no, it’s not home, but I do enjoy being here.
That is until Dad starts in, “So, Sofe, are those college acceptances starting to roll in yet?” The one place I prayed this wouldn’t go. But, of course, it would. He’s been hinting around for weeks about it.
“Uh,” I quickly shove some egg in my mouth, “Yeah, some.”
“And?”
“U Dub, State, Oregon, Berkeley.”
“Berkeley?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
“Sounds like something your Mom would suggest.”
“Yeah, she said I should have as many options as possible.”
He nods, “I guess that’s true.”
I gulp, he isn’t going to like the next part, “I don’t think I’ll need options, though, I got into RISD.”
“RISD?” his eyes narrow. He scratches at his beard.
“Yeah.”
“When did you apply there?” his voice his creeping up on the decibel meter.
“Mark,” Lexie notices and calls him out.
“Few months ago,” I answer my dad before shooting Lexie a quick smile. “I didn’t really tell anybody I was sending my portfolio.”
“That’s not exactly a jumping point for med school, kid.” Here we go.
“No,” I chew nervously. “It’s not meant to be.”
“Art school?” he stops eating to look at me. “That’s art school, Sofia.”
“Yeah, Dad, I’m aware.”
“Have you talked to your Moms about this?” he asks. “Because neither of them have said anything about art school.”
“Not yet, I didn’t think I’d get in, so…”
“Your mom doesn’t know?” I don’t even bother with that one. I’ve been dealing with the undercurrents of Arizona vs. Mark my entire life. It’s not WWIII or anything. It’s just an unspoken rivalry. One that I really don’t even understand completely. They’ve always been civil. And they don’t do that thing where they talk about each other in front of me. But…when there’s a problem, a kid can pick up on it eventually. I’m not stupid.
Allie drops her glass on the table a little too hard, “Is that college close to here, Sofe?”
I scratch at my chin and stop when I notice my dad‘s doing the same thing out of the corner of my eye. It‘s our give away. “Um, no, not really, Al.”
“Where is it then?”
“Rhode Island.”
The little girl turns to her mother, “Mom, where’s Rose Island?”
“Rhode Island, sweetie, and it’s…” Lexie looks up at my Dad before dropping her gaze back to her daughter. “Well, it’s…not close to Seattle, honey.”
“Well, then you can’t go there,” Allie says as she picks up her juice again.
“You are, though, aren‘t you?” Dad asks. He’s currently leveling a glare at me that would make my teeth sweat if I didn’t know him better.
“Yeah, I am,” I answer honestly.
“I don’t know, Sofia.”
“I think it’s great,” Lexie pats my back as she walks by. “It’s pretty exclusive, Mark. And Sofe is really talented.”
“I think we should talk to your mother about this.”
“Dad, I’m going to. Today. You don’t have to go with me.”
“We should discuss this as a family.”
“I’m telling you now and I’ll discuss it with Moms tonight.”
“Family dinner, then?”
“Dad, no. That‘s not necessary.”
“Yep, family dinner,” he says resolutely before he stands up and walks away effectively ending the conversation.
***
I know as soon as I leave my dad’s house, he’s going to call Mama. I don’t even bother walking across the street to where I primarily reside. I just jump in my car and head toward the hospital.
Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital is like a second home to me. I mean, I practically grew up in this place. I spent far too much of my fragile childhood here as a patient. Then, even as I grew older and stronger, I couldn’t escape it. My parents all work here. So, I know all the ins and outs. I know where the best hiding spots are. I know all the doctors and have spent a great chunk of time with residents, interns, and nurses. I get smiles from most the people I pass. Most of them give me a friendly, “Hey Sofe,” as I maneuver around the hallways.
As I exit the elevator, I catch one of my favorite Peds nurses at the front desk, “Hey Alice.”
“Sofia,” the red head looks up from a chart and smiles. “Whatcha need?”
“You happen to know where my mom is?”
“Um, I know she was in surgery earlier but,” she glances at her watch. “She should be done, and I haven’t seen her on the floor. Office, maybe.”
“Okay.”
I guess the look on my face gives me away because she asks before I turn away, “Everything alright?”
Most of the nurses are gossipy busy-bodies ready for a good story, but not Alice. Not only is she one of my favorites, but one of Mom’s favorites, too. “I hope so. Just need to talk to her.”
“Not a talk you can have on the phone?”
I can feel my lip curl up, “Not really.”
“Hm, well, good luck then,” Alice goes back to her paperwork. I get a few steps away before she calls out, “She was in a good mood this morning, Sofe.”
“Thanks, Alice,” I call back.
The nerves really start to settle in when I’m right in front of her door. ‘Dr. Arizona Robbins, Pediatrics,’ I read, like I haven’t been here a million times. You see, Dr. Robbins is my mom. And she’s pretty much amazing. But, the thing about my mom is she’s 70% Rainbow Sunshine Care Bear and 30% trained military assassin. She’ll scoop you up in a mega hug and play Pretty Pretty Princess until the cows come home. But, she’s also the disciplinarian in my family. Her dad, my Grampy Dan, was a Marine. So she knows how to intimidate you from 60 paces. I take a deep breath because I’m not sure how this will go. Then tell myself to stop being a pansy and slowly open the door.
“Calliope…I know…I know…Babe, slow down, I can’t understand you when you talk that fast…I know,” I hear as soon as I stick my head in the door. She looks up at me, phone to her ear, and immediately waves me in. “Yes…Okay, well she’s here so…I will…I’m not talking her out of anything…Callie!…okay, quit calling me ‘Zone,’ it’s not me you’re mad at…love you more. Bye.”
I watch my mom as she sighs heavily and lays the phone back in its cradle. “That’s probably totally unrelated to me,” I say and chance a smile.
She smiles back, which is good, so I just start rambling. “I know it’s far away. I know that it’s not what everybody wanted me to do-”
I’m cut off there, “We all had dreams for you Sofe, but you have to do what makes you happy. Our biggest dream is for you to be happy.”
Relief washes over me. “Thanks,” I say and move farther into her office.
“Sit,” my mom points the leather couch that has resided in the same spot for ten years now.
I take a seat and relax for the first time all day. “She’s pissed?”
“What do you think?”
“She’s pissed,” I state.
“Uh huh, I just got the Spanish Inquisition.”
“I’m sorry, in retrospect, I should have told you first.”
“I don’t think it would have mattered, Sofia.”
“No,” I agree. “It probably wouldn’t. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you mad?”
“Mad?” she shakes her head. “No, So. I’m not mad at all.”
I narrow my eyes a bit at her to judge whether she’s lying or she’s being genuine. I settle on the latter. “Good.”
“I’m not surprised,” She glances up behind her and I follow her gaze. Lining the top of the wall length bookshelf in her office are several framed drawings. My drawings. “Between the angry Spanish rant and the hysterical crying, I figure the best thing to do is take it in stride. You certainly don‘t need another overemotional parent screaming, ‘Don‘t do it.’”
“She was crying?”
“No, not Callie,” she answers. “The crying was Mark. He called just before her.”
I roll my eyes, “Dad is such a woman sometimes.”
“Sing it!”
“What am I going to do?” I ask.
“You’re going to go, Sofe,” she says without hesitation. “You’re going to go.”
“They are going to freak out.”
“They‘ll get over it,” she leans into the hand that’s propped on her desk. “And we’ll adjust. Just like always.”
“So, what’s the damage?”
“Minimal, right now,” Mom winks at me. “She’s not calling to get them to retract your acceptance.”
“Did you talk her out of that?”
“Yes.”
“Leading argument?”
“Too far away,” Mom answers knowing exactly what I mean. It’s nice that we’ve developed this shorthand.
“What did Dad say?”
“Oh, you know Mark,” she says with a hint of a smile. My mom makes her best stern face and her voice drops a couple octaves while she mocks, “Tell her she’s going to medical school, Robbins. She’ll listen to you.”
“I’ve had that discussion with him a million times.”
“I know, I know.”
“I don’t understand why he doesn’t get it.”
“Well,” her brow arches a little. “You do have several parents that enjoy medical degrees. It‘s to be expected.”
“But, why?” I roll my eyes. “It’s a little unfair.”
“Oh, no, it’s a lot unfair.”
Having such an overachieving family is tough on a kid. Especially one that has trouble in school. I was always the girl who would rather be daydreaming or drawing than working out algebraic equations or boning up on biology. And this fact, well, to say it was difficult for my parents is kind of an understatement. It‘s a disappointment even trained medical professionals can’t hide. And to add salt to the open wound, my varied and scattered health problems throughout childhood kept me from doing what most the other kids took for granted.
So, not because of spite or anything, I applied for Art School. Yep, art school. The furthest thing from medicine you can get. Well, that’s what my dad thinks anyway. And, it just so happens, that the school I’ve dreamed of going to forever is in Rhode Island. That’s about as far away from Seattle you can go…according to Mama, who apparently never had a geography class.
“So family dinner tonight?” I ask.
“Mark, Lexie, and Allie included, yes.”
“Crap!” I moan. “You’re going to be on my side, right, Mom?”
“I will be toeing the line, Sofe.”
“Mom!”
“Yes,” she leans back in her oversized chair. “I am on your side. I’m always on your side, but I’m also always on your mama’s side.”
“She’s going to crush my spirit, Mom. Do you want my spirit crushed?”
“Hm,” she says thoughtfully. “That’s incredibly dramatic even for you, Sofia Torres.”
“She’s going to try to guilt me into staying. She‘ll come up with a totally foolproof plan for why I can‘t go. And it will make total sense.”
“Possibly,” she agrees. “You’ll just have to stand your ground.”
“It’s just such a double standard,” I complain.
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“She left the abuelos in Miami and came to Washington,” I make my case. “There’s no difference.”
“No, there’s not,” she sighs. “But, well, your Ma…she doesn’t like people leaving.”
“I’m not going to Africa.”
“Whoa,” the rocks forward sharply and she points at me with her index finger. “Low blow!”
“Sorry,” I throw my hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”
“I’m sure that plays into it a little,” she says. “So I’m sorry, too. Sorry I didn’t have the foresight to realize that my decision to go to Africa would make yours to go to Rhode Island so very traumatic…almost twenty years later.”
“Now who’s being dramatic?”
“I live with you, your brother, and Calliope Torres. When do I ever get a chance to be?”
I smile at her, “Okay, I’ll give you a pass for that one.”
“Thanks,” she rolls her chair back under her desk and goes back to reading what I’m assuming is a chart.
I stare at her for a minute. This woman couldn’t look less like me. She was blonde, although, to be honest, a had few grays now. She had bright blue eyes and pale skin. There were a few lines on her face that had become much more defined just in the last year or so. That had much more to do with my brother than anything else, though. He got gotten into quite a few minor scuffles as he took it upon himself to be the protector of all that was right and good: namely, our family.
“Mom,” I say.
“Hm?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“Uh,” I feel my stomach tighten. “It’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you, but, well…”
“Sure,” she says never looking up.
“Why did you…uh…why would you,” I study the carpet in her office. “You know…I mean, after Mama…and Dad…”
When I look back in her direction, I meet blue eyes. “I was in love,” she says simply.
“Yeah, I mean, I know that,” I pick an imaginary piece of lint off my jeans. “But, you always say ‘do what makes you happy, Sofe’ and ‘live your dreams, kid.’ And, Africa was your dream. Medical care for underprivileged kids in a third world country, that‘s kind of the humanitarian pinnacle.”
“Yes, Africa was the dream. But then, I realized my dream was having a family with your mother.”
“Okay, not that I’m not incredibly happy that’s the dream you went with, but…“ I weighed it with my hands. “Helping sick kids who might never otherwise get that chance vs. settling down to get married to a woman who was pregnant with somebody else‘s baby.”
“Yeah?”
“It just seems mundane in comparison, Mom. Not to mention, complicated.”
“Calliope is anything but mundane,” she answers first. “And complicated doesn’t even begin to describe it, but it was worth it. Still is.”
“Maybe it’s just my young ambition, but,” I tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “I guess I just don’t understand why you would stay? You know, considering that Mama and Dad were…well, whatever Mama and Dad were.”
“Uh,” she searching for an answer.
That prompts me to ask the next question, “What were Mama and Dad?”
Mom shuts the chart on her desk. I know that she’s trying to take the time to gather her thoughts, but it must not be working because a tight grimace appears just for a second. By the time she looks back at me it’s gone, “Is this interrogate your Mom day?”
“Did I go too far?”
“No, of course not,” she answers quickly.
“So?”
“I stayed because I was in love with your mother. I was so in love that I couldn’t breathe without her, Sofia. I was so in love that it physically hurt not to be near her.”
“But, you broke up with her.”
“Yeah, and that was a stupid, in-the-heat-of-the-moment decision that I immediately regretted.”
“In an airport.”
“Let’s not go there,” she warns me. “Now, I think you need to ask Mama or Mark about the other question.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s more about them than me.”
“But you’ll actually give me a straight answer,” then amend, “Honest. Honest answer.”
“Sofe, I’m not proud of what I did, but when I left, I was supposed to be gone for three years. Three years. And I always told Callie I wouldn’t do long distance,” she shakes her head the memory. “And your mother didn’t want to go, but I had to. So…things that happened when I was gone, well…you‘ll have to ask them.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, sure, Mom.” I lie back on her couch and kick one foot over the other one. The older I’ve gotten the more I’ve realized how strange my family’s dynamics are. There’s the two moms. Then the fact that I have a dad. My mother and father are best friends, but nothing else. At least, they haven’t been in eighteen years. Then my dad got married. My moms adopted a kid, then my dad and step-mom had one. Then if you count my older sister, Sloan, I understand how it gets confusing to some people. Honestly, it was completely normal to me, but other people have a little trouble keeping up.
“Whatcha thinking Sofe?” my mom asks as she signs some orders.
“Did you always know you wanted a family? Mom always says she wanted to have a kid since she was four.”
“Yeah, the craps her pants doll.”
“Did you?”
“Have a craps her pants doll?” she grins. “No, I had GI Joes and a mobile medical kit. Surgery on the go, GI Joe!”
“No, Mom,” I can’t help but be amused by the nostalgic look on her face. “Did you always want a kid?”
“It took me a while to realize that I did,” Mom says to me seriously. “Then there was you and I fell in love you just as much as I loved Callie.”
“Even though she was knocked up by Dad?”
“Knocked up, Sofe?”
“Uh,” I blush a little at being admonished. “With child?”
“Better,” she throws a paper clip in my direction. “And yes.”
“You don’t even like Dad that much.”
“That’s not true,” she looks back down.
“Yes it is, I’m not an idiot.”
“Hey, I love your dad, he was a big part in bringing you into my life,” she brushes blonde hair out of her face. “Liking your dad…well, sometimes that takes a bit of effort.”
“Yeah, I can’t believe he told on me,” I tell her. “Actually, I can. I knew he would.”
“I do wish he would have let you tell her yourself.”
“Maybe he did me a favor.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“Well,” I sit back up and face her, crossing my legs. “I understand her not being over the moon about me moving a few thousand miles away.”
“None of us are.”
“Well, maybe David.”
“Your brother is going to miss you, Sofe, despite what he says.”
“No,” I counter. “He’ll be thrilled when he finds out he’ll finally get the Moms to himself.”
“Oh, Sofia,” she smiles. “He’ll never have us all to himself, we’ll still be in your business even from 3000 miles away.
“Urgh, that’s true.”
***
The cafeteria at the hospital was abuzz as always. My mom had taken off to go to surgery and I was ordered not to leave the grounds until I had spoken to Mama. I was going to miss it. I knew that. As much as I complain about it, this place was home to so many memories.
“I thought that was you,” my godmother says as she slips into the seat next to me.
“Oh, hey, Aunt Cris.”
“Did you get the package?”
“Yep,” I answer with a grin. “Thanks.”
“You should always practice safe sex, Sofe, regardless of your sexual orientation.”
“The pamphlet was very detailed.”
“If that won’t teach you to take every precaution to avoid STDs, I don’t know what will,” she says with authority. “Did they know it was from me?”
“I think the Tacoma postmark threw them off, but I’m pretty sure they had their suspicions, Christiaan Barnard.”
“They’ve been so sensitive since that show and tell incident,” she complains.
“Yeah,” my mind immediately flashes to Cristina Yang standing over a cadaver holding a human heart in her white, gloved hand followed immediately by Logan Miller projectile vomiting right into my hair. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Third graders are babies.”
“That was more appropriate for a fifth grade show and tell demonstration,” I humor her.
“I would have liked to, Sofe,” she seems sympathetic. “If your school hadn’t served me with a permanent restraining order.”
“I understand.”
“So,” she unwraps her sandwich. “Tell me about RISD.”
“You’ve talked to Mama?”
“I ran into her this morning. She was ranting in Spanish and telling interns she could dislocate a shoulder from across the room.”
“Oh, great,” I murmur. “I’ve managed to avoid her thus far.”
“Good luck!”
“Thanks,” I push my food around my plate. “So are you disappointed?
“In what?”
“Me,” I glance up. “Not going to medical school.”
“Well, kid, it’s not worth it if you’re not going to become a hardcore, ass kicking cardio god,” she explains. “And, remember when we built that heart?”
“Yes, the six foot scale representation?”
“That’s the one,” she takes a bite of her lunch. “You were way more interested in design than function. I was disappointed then. Not in you, but the fact that I wouldn’t be able to mold you into a scalpel hungry animal.”
“I’m going to take that as your blessing.”
“I think that’s as close as you’ll ever get.”