by Mona Shroff
“So, Maya, what do you say? Dinner sometime?”
Her automatic “No” was on her lips, when she heard Ami’s voice in her head. Time to move on. She glanced over Leo’s shoulder and found Sam glaring in her direction. Smoldering was more like it. “Um, yeah, sure. That sounds nice.” And it did.
Leo was unable to hide his surprise or his pleasure. “Really? Great. How about Friday, 8:00 p.m.? I’ll come by here to get you.”
“Okay. I look forward to it.”
Leo left, and Maya turned back to find Sam, Samantha and Niki staring at her.
Sam spoke first. “You’re going out with that guy?” It was an accusation.
“Well, yes.” Maya squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye.
“Do you think that’s wise? I mean, Samantha here is impressionable.”
“I’m good.” Samantha grinned at her mother. “Have fun. He’s a really nice guy.”
Sam glared at his daughter. “Come on, Niki. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
SAM
New York, 2013
SAM IGNORED THE buzz of the phone in his pocket and turned up the collar of his coat against the wind. He wound his way through the mass of people that made up the motion of the New York City streets. The buzzing stopped and he relaxed some. Within half a block, the buzzing started again. This time he pulled out his phone. Mom. He sent it to voice mail. Another half block and the buzzing started yet again. With a groan, Sam pulled out his phone, ready to send it to voice mail, but the screen read Dad. He tapped his phone and put it to his ear, not breaking his stride.
“Hey, Dad.” Sam forced some lightness into his voice.
“Don’t you ‘Hey, Dad’ me, young man!” His father’s voice was unusually stern. “Why aren’t you taking your mother’s calls? And is your wedding off or on?”
“Don’t worry about it. And as far as Paige goes, I’ll take care of it.”
“What do you mean take care of it? Your mother is worried sick about you.”
“Dad, I really can’t do this right now. I’ll call you later and you can yell at me then.” Sam tapped off the phone. He’d pay for that, but right now he had more immediate concerns.
He slid his phone into his pocket just as he reached the door of The Dream Bar. Paige was already waiting at their regular table. He stopped to whisper to the bartender. After leaving the coffee shop the other day, he had called Paige. His run-in with Maya had made it clear to him what he needed to do. He needed to move on. He fingered Paige’s engagement ring in his pocket.
She looked up when he approached. “Hey, you.” Her eyes were swollen and tired.
“Hey.” He stood there, suddenly awkward with the woman he had planned to spend his life with.
“You’re late.” She smirked. Punctuality was a pet peeve of his.
Sam laughed. “Sorry. I was meeting with my real estate agent, and time got away from me.”
She motioned to a chair opposite her. “Have a seat.”
Sam sat and ordered a bourbon. Paige sipped her dirty martini. “Why am I here, Sam?”
He placed the ring on the table in front of her. “I want to apologize for being an ass.”
Her eyes saddened. “I should have told you what I overheard on Diwali.”
Sam shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, well... But I know why you didn’t. I’m sorry I was so harsh on you. You’re intelligent, and funny and beautiful, and I do love you.”
“But...” Paige twirled her drink, suddenly very interested in what was inside her glass.
“But we lie to each other.”
Her eyes filled almost instantly with tears and she nodded her head in agreement. “Couples should not lie to one another.” Her breath caught as tears dripped down. She hastily wiped them away. “Especially if they’re getting married.”
Sam sipped his bourbon as she gathered herself. Even though he had expected tears, they still made him feel terrible. No matter that this was best for both of them. The thick liquid added to the heaviness of the moment. He held her hand across the table. She pulled it away. “Don’t, Sam. Don’t be nice to me. Not when I need to hate you for a while.”
They stared at each other, letting the awkwardness build.
“I don’t know what I want anymore.” Sam leaned toward her and she stared him in the eye.
“Quite frankly, Sam, I have been thinking. I deserve more.” Her voice got stronger. “I deserve someone who looks at me the way you look at Maya.”
“I’m angry because I missed out on my daughter, and I don’t look at Maya—”
“Save it, Sam. If you don’t see, you don’t see it.” She shook her head at him as if he were a young child. Silence fell between them, during which they both sipped from their glasses. “Why do you have a real estate agent?”
Sam grinned at her, happy for a moment. “Fresh start. The one thing I do know is what I want to do with my law degree. I quit my job and I’m opening up my own practice. And I’m going to get to know my daughter.”
“What about Congress—all the work you did for that?” Paige took an olive out of her drink and popped it in her mouth.
“You’re the candidate, not me. Everything we did came from you. You should run.”
She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head as if considering this possibility for the first time. “Would I have your vote?” A smile twitched at her lips.
“Depends on what your stances are.” He smiled at her.
She nodded and the smile broke through. She looked pointedly at the ring. “You wouldn’t dare be asking me back, would you?”
Sam shook his head slowly. “Do you really want me to?”
“No.” Her answer was firm, but her eyes betrayed her. “I do love you, but you’re not good for me.”
He gulped at his drink. “Like I said, fresh start. You love that ring. You had it designed to your specifications. It’s yours.”
She laughed but her eyes glistened with tears again.
Sam covered her hand with his. She tried to pull back, but Sam held firm. “You go back to the apartment. I found a new place. I’ll come get the rest of my things while you’re at work.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll just move in with my dad for a bit longer.”
Sam chuckled. “No one wants that. I suspect one week has been more than a lifetime for you both.” He downed his drink and stood. “Drinks are on me.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Goodbye, Paige.”
“Goodbye, Sam.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
SAM
New York, 2013
EARLY FEBRUARY BROUGHT Samantha into Manhattan for a soccer tournament. Samantha would spend the weekend with Sam, and Maya would attend the games when she could. The week before Valentine’s Day was always busy at the shop.
Clear skies and bright sun did nothing to warm the air that Saturday afternoon as Sam and Samantha walked to the soccerplex. They had tied their game the night before, so today’s game was important if the team was to advance in the tournament.
Sam found himself checking his watch as game time approached. No sign of Maya. Good. He’d be able keep a clear head. Not that Maya clouded his head. Not at all.
The teams hit the field. He looked toward the entrance. Still not here. Why did he even care?
The game started and Sam took his regular seat, two rows in on the bleachers, closer to the goal than midfield. The girls came out aggressively, and he was soon engrossed in the first minutes of the game. Sam was unaware that Maya had entered the arena until she was standing in his line of sight.
She had on dark jeans with a cream-colored, fitted wool coat and carried something under her arm. Dark hair cascaded in waves down her back and she bit her bottom lip as she flicked her eyes about, looking for him. Sam waited for irritation to kick in, but tonight it did
not. Instead, he found himself remembering how soft her hair felt in his fingers, and the soft pinch when she bit his lips. What?
He was shaking his head, trying to clear those memories, when she turned and saw him. He quickly looked away so as not to get caught gazing at her, but watched from the corner of his eye as she climbed over the first two rows to where he was sitting.
“Hi. Did I miss anything?” She faltered a bit as she climbed over the second row. Must be the high heels. Sam offered his hand to steady her. She ignored it and sat down, leaving space between them. He slowly lowered his unwanted hand.
“Um, not too much. They just started. No one scored yet.” He studied her. Had he forgotten how beautiful she was? Or had he just stopped noticing?
Maya was waving her hand in front of him.
“What?” He furrowed his brow in question.
“You’re staring like you were the first time we met,” she said.
Heat crept up his face. “Oh, I just—sorry.” He slowly turned his gaze away from her to focus on the game. Samantha made a great save by plucking the ball out of the air as the offensive player tried to head it into the goal.
“Yes! That’s my girl!” Sam cheered. He turned excitedly to Maya. “Did you see that? Did you see our girl take that goal away?”
Maya was laughing. “That was incredible.” She grabbed his arm. “Who knew she could jump that high? It has to be all that time you spent training her. She plays a lot like you did.”
Sam grinned, enjoying her touch. She hastily released his arm and returned her attention to the game.
Samantha’s team scored before the end of the first half, so they were up 1–0 at halftime. But in the last seconds of the second half, the opposing striker got a breakaway. Samantha ran up to meet her, but she second-guessed herself for just a split second. The delay cost her, and the striker easily deked her and scored.
Maya grabbed Sam’s arm with both hands. “No! It’s down to penalty kicks now, right?”
Again, Sam relished her touch. He laughed. “Yes. Our Samantha against five of their best strikers.”
Maya paled and covered her eyes with her hands. “I can’t watch. I can’t watch.” She peeked at him through her fingers. “In case you were wondering—I can never watch PKs.”
He remembered. Sam relaxed into his amusement. “She’ll be fine. We’ve practiced this—and true, the odds are against the goalie—but she’ll be fine as long as she doesn’t hesitate. Or second-guess herself.”
Maya’s eyes widened behind her fingers, and Sam melted. The once or twice she had seen him play in a game, she had done the same thing. It was as endearing now as it had been then.
“Oh, God, Sam.” She nearly squealed.
A hush fell over the stadium, and Sam turned to face the field. Samantha’s team shot first, but the other goalie punched it out of play. Now, Samantha was in the goal, the other team’s striker was gearing up. She took the shot. “Left!” Sam whispered. Samantha did just that and plucked the ball out of the air.
Maya cheered with the crowd, but covered her face once Samantha was protecting again. Each team had five shots apiece. Each team got the ball past the opposing keeper two times. The opposing keeper saved the last attempt by Samantha’s team. The opposing team put up their last striker. If they made this, they would win. Samantha took her spot in front of the goal. If she saved this, there would be another round of PKs.
Sam glanced at Maya. What he could see of her face was pale, her eyes were huge behind her hands. It suddenly struck him that she had sat through these moments—and many more—over the past fifteen years, alone. She had raised this wonderful young woman on her own. Forget the reasons why. Samantha was incredible, because Maya was incredible. Without thinking, he reached out, rested a reassuring hand on Maya’s arm, and leaned closer to her ear. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to say it, but you’ve done a fabulous job raising her.”
He felt her relax and she dropped her hands. The anxiety in her eyes was replaced by a softness he hadn’t seen in years. Before she could say anything, he nodded his head toward the field. “Last one.”
They both turned back to the field, just as the striker hit the ball. “Jump!” Sam whispered. But Samantha hesitated, jumping just a fraction of a second too late and missing the save. The other team scored, winning the game.
“What was that?” Maya turned horrified eyes on Sam.
“Well,” Sam said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact, “she hesitated.” He gave a small shrug. “She hesitated, and she lost the save. It’s something she needs to work on.” He looked Maya in the eye and his voice softened. “Something all keepers have to work on—not hesitating.”
She briefly held his gaze, then turned away from him.
Sam continued to watch her a moment, then cleared his throat and stood. He offered his hand again. This time she took it. “Come on, we’ll meet her on the sidelines.”
They waited together for Samantha to come off the field. Maya released his hand as soon as they were off the bleachers. She didn’t say much and Sam couldn’t think what to say. Finally, Samantha walked over.
“Nicely done, sweetheart.” Maya gave her daughter a hug.
“I’m all sweaty, Mom. Don’t hug me. You’ll get all gross for your date.”
“What?” Sam snapped at Maya as his stomach formed a knot. “You have another date?” Alarms started going off inside his head.
Maya turned to him, eyes frozen. “Yes, I do.”
“Same guy?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”
“How many dates have you had?” He couldn’t stop himself.
Maya inhaled deeply. “Okay. Time for me to go.” She turned to Samantha. “Great game. I should be able to make your game tomorrow.” She kissed her daughter and widened her eyes in mock sympathy. “Have fun with your dad.”
“Sam.” She grimaced at him and left.
Sam narrowed his eyes at Maya as she walked away. No wonder she looked so good today.
“Dad. Dad!” Samantha waved her hand in front of his face. “Come on. I need food and a shower.”
“Yeah, okay.” He started to walk.
“Dad.” Samantha stopped. “This way.”
“Yeah, okay.” He switched direction and followed her lead.
They left the soccerplex and headed for the subway. “How many times has your mom gone out with that guy? She just went out with him last week.” He wasn’t even going to try to pretend he didn’t want to know.
Samantha smirked at him. “This will be the third date.”
“What?” His breath became more jagged.
“Unless you count the fact that he shows up at the coffee shop every few days and has Mom make her special chai.”
Sam stopped walking. Sirens in his head again as nausea washed over him. “What, like you mean, in the morning?” Now, he could hardly breathe. “He’s not... I mean, he couldn’t already be...never mind.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched over as he continued to walk.
Samantha raised her eyebrows at him. “Are you wondering if he’s ever already there in the morning?” She covered her mouth to hide her smile. “Pathetic, really—asking your teenage daughter.” She finally succumbed to her laughter.
Sam scowled at her and continued walking. It really was pathetic.
“Come on, Dad.” She caught up to him and hooked her arm through his. “If she were going to let him ‘stay over,’ she’d send me to Nani’s, and she hasn’t.” Samantha grinned at her father. “Although, I am spending tonight here with you.” She raised one eyebrow, a twinkle in her eye.
Sam’s heart sank.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
SAM
New York, 2013
SAMANTHA WAS CHATTERING on about the game, complaining about biased calls by the referee, analyz
ing and overanalyzing the details of each play. Normally, Sam loved this part as well, but today he was still reeling from the knowledge that Maya was going out with that guy. Again. Distracted as he was, he nearly tripped over a huge object in the middle of his small entrance hall.
“What is this?” Samantha gawked at the filthy brown canvas duffel bag. “It wasn’t here when we left.”
This bag could mean only one thing. Sam grinned and pressed his index finger to his lips. Samantha complied, and followed his gaze.
Sure enough, there was someone sleeping on his sofa. Sam grabbed a pillow from the chair and threw it at the form on his sofa. The young man bolted up and looked around. “What the hell?”
Sam cackled.
Ben jumped off the sofa and grabbed Sam in a hug. “Sammy!”
Sam returned the hug with gusto and then took a step back to examine his cousin. “You took the time to shave and get a haircut this time.”
Ben rubbed his face. “Well, a haircut, anyway. You know how the ponytail drives my mom nuts. For the shave, I just used your razor.” He chuckled.
“Consider that razor yours now.” Sam grimaced in that way that big brothers did to their little brothers when they used their stuff.
Ben’s hair and skin color were the same as Sam’s, except that Ben’s hair was straight, and when he traveled, he tended to let it grow and pull it back in a ponytail. But Sam knew Ben hadn’t gotten a haircut for his mother.
“You came here first?” Sam wrinkled his brow at Ben. “Do I even want to know how you got in—I just moved here.”
Ben gave him his best do-you-really-want-to-know look. “Just enjoy the surprise.”
Before Sam could introduce Samantha, Ben had taken note of her. He directed his words to Sam, all the while looking at Samantha. “And of course I came here before going to Maryland! I got the family gossip and had to see what my big brother was up to. And clearly, it’s a good thing I stopped by.” He grinned at Samantha. “You could not possibly be the daughter I’m hearing about! Way too pretty to have this guy as your dad.”