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writers, directors, every day. Being a painter is no different. I thought you were smarter than they are.”
    “I’ve never claimed to be smarter than anyone. All I know is that I’m good. And it makes me so happy, in a way that nothing else does. Don’t you want that?” I fight the tears that threaten to fall from hearing the censure and sting in my father’s voice.
    “Of course I want that. What kind of person do you think I am? If it makes you so happy, paint on the weekends.” That’s his idea of a compromise.
    “Dad, I’ve watched you all my life. You are prepping for cases on the weekend or if you’re not doing that you are so exhausted you just want to relax. And I don’t blame you for it.” He needs to hear this. I need to make him really hear me. “I don’t love law like you do. I just don’t. Please understand me. None of this is personal. None of this has anything to do with you and mom. It’s just me. And it’s what I want and need to make me happy.”
    There’s a long silence as my father digests my words. Finally, he lets out a breath and sighs.
    “I just don’t understand, honey. Try and help me wrap my head around this chain of events. A short while ago you were enrolled in law school anddoing very well, especially for someone who doesn’t ‘love it,’ as you say. You were dating Jerry, a man you’ve known all your life. A man your mother and I love—”
    “Then the two of you can date him.” The words pop out before I can stop them.
    “Watch your tone, young lady.”
    “I’m sorry, but Jerry is none of your business, Dad. That’s my personal business and I don’t want to talk about it. And honestly, you of all people should at least support me in my decision to break up with him. All my life you’ve told me the story of how it was love at first sight with mom. And you just knew. Don’t you want that for me too?”
    There’s a long silence again. I know my dad is thinking about all the things I’ve said. And I know he doesn’t appreciate them one bit. But tough. This is me. Or at least, this is the new me.
    “For someone who has no interest in being an attorney, you sure know how to win an argument.”
    “That has nothing to do with law school. I grew up watching my father, who happens to be the best trial attorney around, win almost all the time. It was inevitable that I picked up a thing or two.” My voice is raw with emotion and I know he can hear it.
    “I love you, Sophie. You know that. Your mother and I just want you to have everything we didn’t.”
    “Everything you didn’t, but not everything you did?”
    “Sophie—”
    “Dad, you guys had the freedom to choose your professions and each other. Give your daughter that same gift.”
    “We’ll talk about it when you get home.”
    This is code for I’m not convinced and neither is your mom, and we know what’s best for you.
    “Alright, Dad.” I’m only saying what he wants to hear to give him some peace of mind over the next few days. I have no intention of talking about it anymore. “I have to go and meet up with Erik and Orie,” I say. I want to get off the phone. “Love you, Daddy.”
    “Love you, too.”
    Before I hang up, I can’t help but ask, “Does mom hate me?”
    “Your mother could never hate you, sweetie.” He pauses for a moment. “She’s just disappointed.”
    Knife.
    Straight through the heart.
    “Bye, Dad.”
    “Be safe,” he says to me before he hangs up. I close my eyes and stretch out on the lounge chair, suddenly exhausted by it all, and let the sizzling sun soothe some of my problems away. I’m dead asleep within seconds.

4
    A few hours later, I’m awakened by splashing in front of my villa. I look out to see Erik and Orie swimming in circles in the water. They look like you’d picture ancient, exquisite merman. I walk to the edge of the deck and stretch. The nap definitely helped with my mood and jet lag.
    I slowly peel off my t-shirt and stand in my bikini. Orie