“I have nothing to say to you.” Sophie’s father’s nose is six inches from his computer screen. “You’re lucky I haven’t sent you to a half-way-house.”
“Dad, I’m not an addict.” Sophie’s shoulder is leaning into the door frame. Her face is splotchy.
“Well, you obviously need professional help.”
“What I need is for you to care.”
“Oh I care.” He spins his chair around. “I care that my sixteen-year-old daughter is pregnant. Do you even know who the father is?”
“Daddy!” Sophie is crying again. “Don’t you know Isaac?”
He rubs his face, and stands up. “I’m sorry pumpkin. I don’t know why I said that. Of course I know Isaac. But, this baby, it goes against everything I’ve taught you.”
“I know Daddy.” She wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m scared too, but I love her.”
“Mhm.” She nods.
“You’re that far along?” He takes a couple of steps towards her, using his desk to support his weight.
“Five months.” She watches her arms hug her small round bump.
“I didn’t notice?” He grips his temples.
Sophie shakes her head.
He reaches his hand to her. “May I?”
She takes his palm, and places it on her belly. He sees her silent tears. He places one hand, and then the other, below her chin, and cradles her face in his palms. She sees her reflection in his wet eyes. He nods to her, and smiles.