by Fiona Riley
“No, Ma. Probably not tomorrow. Probably not ever.” Sasha chased a blueberry around her plate, trying not to cry at that statement. Abby just gave her so many damn feelings.
“What? Why not?” Her mother looked panicked. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine.” Sasha considered this. “Well, I think she’s fine. I don’t really know. We’re not talking.”
“What do you mean? Of course you’re talking. She saved this family, Sasha. She’s a miracle worker. But she’s more than that—she is family.” Her mother was adamant about this.
“Ma,” she pleaded. She couldn’t keep talking about this, or it was going to be a matter of moments before she started crying. She felt so betrayed by Abby, and the last thing she wanted to do was be reminded of all the amazing things Abby had brought to her life. Like, how fantastic she had been at her father’s bedside. So selfless. So…loving. It was too much to think about right now.
“Are you not happy, Sasha? This will change our lives. You won’t have to work as much, and I can be home more to care for your father if I don’t have to have two part-time jobs. We can enjoy our time together. It is the ultimate gift.”
“She lied, Ma. She lied about who she was and she lied about helping us out and I just can’t face her.” Sasha couldn’t stop the slow progression of tears that had begun. It felt hopeless to try.
“What are you talking about? What did she lie about?” Her mother looked confused.
Sasha felt confused, too. “Well, about who she was—”
“I thought you already addressed that. I thought that was all behind you when she apologized and professed her love for you in front of all the press in Boston.” Her mother pointed to the front page of the Arts and Entertainment section of the paper following that night at the museum. The journalist had made note of Abby’s confession in the write-up. Her mother had threatened to frame it. But, for now, it lived on the fridge for everyone to see.
“We did.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is she used her vast wealth to give us a handout we didn’t even ask for.” Sasha’s throat ached as she spoke, her emotions at war with themselves.
A look of understanding crossed her mother’s face. “Oh, Sasha. You’re wrong.”
“Ma, I am not. I saw her signature. And when I confronted her about it, she denied it. Right to my face. How can I love someone who lies to me over and over again?” Sasha bit her lip to slow the tremble.
“Okay, I can’t explain that. But I can explain the grant.” Her mother stroked her left hand and held it. “This didn’t come out of nowhere, Sasha. I applied for this.”
“Applied for it? What does that mean?”
“The bills were piling up. You were working two full-time jobs, and I was working two part-time jobs and odd jobs, and caring for your father. But it was too much. After one of his doctor appointments at the beginning of the year, I saw a flyer about seeking hospital aid for medical bills. I had to fill out dozens of forms and submit the taxes from the last three years, but I figured I had to try. It was worth the shot.” She shrugged. “And then our prayers were answered. We were awarded the money and our hospital debts have been forgiven. This will change our lives, Sasha.”
“So you’re saying you knew this was a possibility all along?” Sasha couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Well, yes. I mean, it wasn’t a guarantee, like I said. But it was worth trying. I didn’t think to mention it to you because I didn’t want you to get your hopes up.” She sipped her tea. “I figured when a decision was made, I’d tell you then.”
Sasha gaped at her. Her mother had been applying for grants and assistance for all this time without her knowing? And if that were true, why didn’t Abby just say that to her at the station? She groaned. Probably because she didn’t give Abby the chance to get a word in during her temper tantrum. Shit.
“I made a mistake.” Sasha dropped her head and sighed. “I’m such a jerk.”
“What did you do?” Her mother looked at her with big eyes.
“I told the love of my life to leave. I may have also called her meddlesome, privileged, and out of touch.”
“Sasha.”
Sasha winced at the tone.
“I know, Ma. I know.” She stood up from the table and headed back upstairs to get changed.
“Where are you going now?” her mother called after her.
“To try to win her back.” She didn’t have a plan, not exactly. But she had to do something. Anything. And she knew exactly who to ask for help.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Samantha rode up the elevator to the sixth floor offices of the Davenport Charitable Foundation with a clear mission. She was there to help Sasha apologize to Abby. And maybe also get lunch with Edie. But that was beside the point.
The doors opened and she stepped out. She smiled, pleased at the amount of natural light streaming through the windows. An admin greeted her in the main reception area.
“Can I help you, miss?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m here to see Abby Rossmore.” Samantha flashed her brightest smile.
“Is she expecting you?” The admin looked down at the calendar in front of her with a frown. “I don’t see anyone on her schedule.”
“I’m just dropping in, no prior scheduled appointment. Just here to say hello and bring good cheer.” Samantha hoped her charm would be enough to breach the fortress.
“Oh, okay.” She hesitated before her eyes widened. “Hey, are you the matchmaker from the Improper Bostonian? The one that makes the—”
“Impossible possible. I am one and the same.”
“Cool.” She looked a little starstuck and Samantha was touched.
“So, about seeing Abby?”
“Right. Yes. I’ll call her and let her know you’re here. It’s Samantha, right?”
“You got it.” She waited by the desk as the admin called back. Abby came out a few moments later, a puzzled expression on her face.
“Samantha. Hi. What brings you by?” Abby looked…tired. And a little sad.
“Lunch with your mother. Can we sit and catch up a bit?” Samantha would rather not do this in the lobby with the admin watching the whole time.
“Oh, sure. Right, yeah. Sorry. My head is not where it should be today.” Abby led her back to her office. She motioned for Samantha to join her on the couch by the window, across from her desk. “So, lunch? That sounds fun. Where are you gals going?”
“Somewhere nearby, I imagine. I’m leaving it up to your mother. You know, you’re welcome to join us. I’d love to hear all about you and how things are going.” She was baiting her.
“There’s nothing going on. Trust that.” Abby frowned and looked out the window.
“Oh?” Abby wasn’t taking the bait fast enough. Samantha decided to help her along a bit. “How’s Sasha?”
Abby sucked in a breath, looking wounded. “Sasha and I are…not together right now.”
“Oh no.” Samantha feigned surprise as she shot off a quick text. “What happened?”
“The short story?” Abby shrugged. “Everything after the night at the museum was perfect but then there was a fire and Sasha got hurt and then there was a grant issued and Sasha thinks I’m a liar. But I’m not. I truly had no idea about that—I don’t even remember signing the form. But I found a copy in our records, so clearly, I did. But…I don’t know. I didn’t mean to hurt her. It’s just all so fucked up now.”
Samantha leaned back against the couch and looked out the window at the world below. “That’s…wow. That’s quite a story. What are you going to do?”
“What is there to do? Sasha basically told me she never wanted to see me again. I mean, I guess I can see why. I wasn’t exactly honest from the get-go. I know, you warned me. But I guess I’m just not destined to find love.”
Samantha was horrified. “Well that’s not true at all. Everyone is entitled to love. It’s written in the stars.”
She paused. “Let me ask you a question. If Sasha was here, today, would you want to see her? What would you say to her?”
“I’m not sure.” Abby looked defeated.
“Would you listen to her if she had something to say to you?” Samantha tried again.
Abby seemed to consider this. “I would. Maybe. I don’t know, she said some pretty harsh stuff to me. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”
Samantha nodded. “Anger is never the way to communicate.” She looked at the window behind them again. “Say, does this window open?”
“What?” Abby looked at her like she was crazy. “Uh, yeah. These are pretty old windows, so they open almost all the way. The newer buildings don’t have that option for obvious safety reasons.”
“Right. Safety first.” Samantha stood and pulled Abby up with her, turning her so Abby’s back was toward the window. “Listen, I’m going to give you some advice.”
“Okay?”
Samantha stroked up and down Abby’s arms for a moment before taking her hands in her own. “We all have histories and complicated pasts. We all make mistakes and have moments of weakness. But we all deserve the chance to be brave and right our wrongs, especially in the name of love.”
“Uh, sure.” Abby didn’t look convinced. “In the name of love. Or whatever.”
Samantha smiled. “Not whatever. But I’ll leave you two to figure it out. Don’t give up on love, Abby. Sometimes you have to look through the window of your soul and find what you really want and need in life. Or in this case, look through the window of your office.”
“The window of my—?”
Samantha hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve got to run to lunch with your mother. It was great seeing you. Talk soon.”
Samantha slipped out before Abby could ask her anything else, but not before she texted a thumbs up to Sasha. She sure hoped this would work.
*****
Abby decided that was easily the strangest exchange she had ever had with anyone, let alone with Samantha Monteiro-Moss. What was she saying about the window of her office…or was it her soul? A knock drew her attention to the office door. But it was open and there was no one there. She was hearing things. Great. Single, and hearing things.
There was another knock, this time louder.
Still no one at the door. That’s it, she was losing her mind. “What the fuck?”
Third knock, this one with a melody. It sounded so close to her. Like it was right behind her. She turned and nearly screamed. Sasha waved to her from the other side of the glass, five stories above the street below, decked out in her full bunker gear, on the top of a very, very tall ladder.
Abby just blinked at her, unsure of what to do.
Sasha was saying something, but she couldn’t hear it. Sasha frowned and pointed to the window latch, mouthing the words, “Can you open the window?”
Abby was frozen in place. The window? What the hell was she doing outside the window…to her office. Suddenly Samantha’s comments made a lot more sense. She nodded and stepped forward, unlocking the ancient latch and pulling the pane open.
The room filled with the sounds of the city below, and the air was cooler than she expected. She shivered.
Sasha gave her a hesitant smile. “Can I come in?”
“You know, we have doors for these sorts of things.” Abby was too bewildered to be annoyed. Mostly she was terrified for Sasha’s safety. Of course she could come in. It was a hell of a lot safer in her office than on the top of a swaying ladder.
“Ah, but that wouldn’t give me the effect I was hoping for.” Sasha braced herself and stepped gingerly through the slim window onto the back of Abby’s couch, before she lowered herself to the floor.
Abby didn’t dare speak until all of Sasha’s limbs were safely contained in her office. “And what effect would that be?”
“The one that convinces you to hear me out and lets me apologize for being an absolute ass. I was going for the shock-you-into-listening-to-me approach.” Sasha placed her helmet on the edge of the couch, dusting off a boot print she’d left. “Is it working?”
Abby laughed. “Well, I can’t say anyone has ever tried this hard to have a conversation with me. You could have called. Or walked in the front door. That probably would have sufficed.”
The wind picked up and the window to Abby’s office swung open wider, the ladder swaying in the breeze. Sasha closed the window and the sound of the city was silenced. It was just the two of them now, here, in this moment.
“Yeah, maybe. But when the woman of your dreams makes a grand gesture by announcing that she loves you in front of the entire city of Boston at a fundraiser, you gotta dial up your game to prove you’re worth that love.”
Sasha stepped forward and gave Abby a small smile. “I love you. And I was wrong and pigheaded and felt a little blindsided, but I don’t want to lose what I have with you. I don’t want to miss out on anything we could possibly have because of my pride or my fear of inadequacy, or my stubbornness, because the fact is you are the best thing that ever happened to me and I’m willing to fight for that.”
Abby didn’t know what to say. Part of her wanted to fall into Sasha’s arms and get lost in a kiss, but another part of her was still wounded, a little fearful.
When she didn’t speak, Sasha continued. “When my mother told me about the grant, I didn’t know what to think. I was equal parts elated and distraught. For the longest time, my personal identity in my family had been one of provider. I had it in my mind that it was my job to save them, to provide for them. A part of me was really jealous and jaded that you had been that savior when I couldn’t be. I just felt so…worthless. Like I’d spent all my time just spinning my wheels. But I was being selfish and shortsighted. What you did has nothing to do with me and my ego. You saved my parents, Abby, and I am so very, very grateful for that.”
Guilt washed over her. Sasha was giving her more credit than she deserved. “Wait, it’s not like that, Sasha. I’d love to say this was intentional and planned, if that’s what you’d like to hear, but it wasn’t. It was a complete and utter fluke. And to be honest, it’s best that that’s how it worked out. Otherwise it might be seen as favoritism.” Abby had panicked once she’d found that paper copy in the files. There was nothing she wanted less than a controversy and for Sasha’s family to lose their support.
“I’m not following.” Sasha frowned and Abby hoped the truth wouldn’t hurt her more.
“I’m the Davenport Foundation’s accountant, this is true. And yes, that was my signature on the letter you received. But I didn’t knowingly approve your parents’ application.” She tried to clarify. “Lots of people apply for aid, but it’s only issued on a quarterly basis. These things often sit for months until our quarterly meetings—that’s why so much of it is retroactive. But I was so distracted this quarter. I missed the board meeting for the first time in forever. I was playing catch up and just signed the forms when they came before me. I had no idea your family was in the mix.” Abby sighed. “I would never intentionally hurt you or try to interfere in your family in any way. I so treasure the moments I got to spend with you and your mother. You two really helped me to open up with my own mother, to embrace the meaning of family again in a way I had forgotten. But I didn’t help your family to get in your good graces. I had almost nothing to do with it at all. So please don’t thank me. I don’t deserve it.”
Sasha’s face was a mix of emotions. Abby wasn’t sure what to expect next. She’d been honest. She hadn’t meddled with Sasha’s family, but she hoped that admission didn’t change Sasha’s opinion of her. She was reminded of Samantha’s advice in that moment. Choose vulnerability. She decided to embrace it.
“Sasha, the reason I don’t go by my family name is exactly for the reasons you mentioned the other day. I don’t want people to see my name before they see me. I don’t want them to assume the best or the worst of me by the legacy of my family. I just want a chance to live
my life and cast my own shadow outside of the shadow of my name. I was never trying to be deceitful, it’s just—”
“That I did exactly what you’d hoped I wouldn’t do and pegged you as a selfish, detached rich girl who couldn’t possibly understand the troubles of a simple working stiff like myself?”
Sasha’s smile was genuine, and Abby relaxed a little more.
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
Sasha nodded. “Yup. I’m a total jackass. I accept it.” She reached out and took Abby’s hand.
“Is that a firefighting term?” Abby intertwined their fingers and stepped into Sasha’s embrace.
“Oh, yeah. Totally. I’m a consummate professional.” Sasha held her for a moment before pulling back. “Which reminds me. Hold on.” She stepped away from Abby to reopen the window and lean out.
“Sasha, please use the door to leave—I’m begging you. I don’t think my heart can take you out there again.” Abby felt nauseous just thinking about it.
Sasha retrieved something from the ladder and gave someone below a thumbs-up. There was a far-off sound of a motor whirring and the ladder began to retract. Only then did Abby’s heart rate begin to normalize.
Sasha closed the window and turned, presenting Abby with a rainbow bouquet like the one from their first date. “It’s not the front page of the Globe, but it’s something. I love you, I want to be with you. Forgive me?”
“You just came through my window like Spider-Man with an overflowing gay bouquet, professing your undying love to me.” Abby slid her arms inside of Sasha’s jacket, wrapping them around Sasha’s waist.
“This is true.” Sasha smiled and cupped her jaw.
“I suppose that’s as good a reason to forgive you as any.” Abby leaned forward and pressed her lips to Sasha’s. That familiar spark ignited and everything outside of this moment, these lips on hers, completely slipped her mind. Sasha’s tongue teasing at her bottom lip only muddled her brain further. “I feel like this whole firefighting get-up is something we should revisit more often. You know, like, in the bedroom.”