Sasha (Mixed Drinks #1)

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Sasha (Mixed Drinks #1) Page 11

by Rae Matthews


  “Not his kid? Whose kid is she then?” I demand.

  “It’s kind of a long story. Bash should really be the one to tell you,” Jesse replies calmly.

  “Well, I’ve got some time, and Bash is not here, so spill it!” I snap back at him.

  The three guys glance at each other, as if looking for some approval to tell me the full story. Jesse finally nods and sits me down to tell me all about their friends, Sam and Kayla. About how they met in high school around the tenth grade, and were madly in love. They got married shortly after graduation, and had Emma a year later. They were the couple that everyone knew would make it for the long term. They had the kind of love everyone hoped for.

  About two years ago, Sam and Kayla were on their way to meet Bash and his fiancé, Chloe, to talk about their wedding plans, when their car was hit by a drunk driver. Sam was killed instantly; Kayla hung on for about a week in a coma. Chloe and Kayla were best friends. Chloe was at the hospital with her every day and night, holding her hand hoping she would wake up. When Kayla’s sister told her that the doctors felt there was no hope and that they had decided to take her off of life support, Chloe flipped out. She could not stand the idea of losing her best friend, and begged Kayla’s sister to give it more time. She was convinced that Kayla would wake up. They gave her another forty-eight hours, and then pulled the life support.

  Bash and Sam had been best friends since fifth grade, so Bash was already a mess dealing with his own grief, but he tried to console Chloe as best he could. It just wasn’t enough, and Chloe was spiraling downward fast. Jesse and the other guys all did their best to help, since after all, Sam and Kayla were their friends, too.

  After the funerals, Bash and Chloe found out that Sam and Kayla had named them as Emma’s guardians. Chloe just couldn’t deal with it. She said that raising Emma would only be a daily reminder of losing Kayla. She left Bash and Emma, and went back to New York where her family lived. Bash was heartbroken. He had lost two good friends and his fiancé all at once, and was left alone with a little girl who didn’t understand why her mom and dad were not coming home.

  Bash talked to Sam’s mom, Jean, and asked if Emma could live with her for awhile, as he had no idea how to raise a five-year old girl on his own, and Bash also needed time to get a few things in order. He and Chloe had lived in a one-bedroom apartment, and didn’t have room for Emma to move in right away. He wanted to take the time to do it right, and even though Bash and Chloe were close with Emma, Bash felt she needed to be with her family. Jean agreed, and was happy that Emma would be living with her, even if it were for a short time. When the time came for Emma to move in with Bash, Jean asked if she could continue to stay with her a little longer. Jean loved having Emma there, and Bash wasn’t really in a position to tell her no.

  Jean found out six months ago that she had cancer. She had surgery, and with treatment, everything is looking good. For now, she is in remission. But she has needed a little more help around the house and with Emma since she was still pretty weak. Nevertheless, Jean wanted Emma to live with her for as long as possible.

  Bash had been juggling everything, trying to make it all work, until he met me; he was tired, stressed and stretched thin. According to the guys, I made him feel like himself again. He laughed easier, the weight of it all seemed to lift off his shoulders, and he was happy, something they hadn’t seen a lot of since the accident. He wanted to tell me, Jesse says. But on the other hand, he didn’t want to scare me away. The guys say they tried to tell him that I had a right to know what kind of situation I was getting into. Still, he wanted to give it some time to see how things went.

  This is the reason why Jesse confronted me at the bar. This is a tough situation, and I’ll need to be willing to take on a lot of stuff if I want to be with Bash. It may not be easy, and not every woman is up for taking on this ‘baggage’. But now I know the whole story.

  I take in every word as Jesse and the guys tell it to me. I have no words to describe how I’m feeling. Jesse’s phone kept ringing as he spoke, yet would decline each call. He had only stopped for a moment to send a text message. To Bash, I assume. I’m sure Bash wanted to know what the hell was going on, and to yell at me for screaming at Emma the way I did.

  I really liked Bash. I had hoped that he was the one, but I feel so lied to now. I realize that this whole story is a lot to take in on a first date, but he has had several opportunities to tell me this himself along the way. Did he not trust that I would be ok with this? When in the hell was he planning on telling me? It’s not like he could keep her a secret forever. Was I just a hot piece of ass to him, and he had no intentions of telling me ever? I’m lost in thought until I hear Bash’s voice coming from behind me.

  “Sasha, I’m sorry. Please understand,” he pleads.

  I interrupt him before he can go any further, and look at him deep in the eyes. “I just need to think. I need to go home. Take me home, please.” My voice trickles into a whisper at the end, and I start walking towards the car.

  By the time I close the door to my apartment, I am beyond ready to open a bottle of wine and get my drunk on. I figured that after I had a good buzz going, I would call Megan and Sadie to stun them with the news that Bash has a kid. Bash tried to talk to me in the car as he drove. He tried to tell me how sorry he was, asked me what I was thinking, and hoping to get an answer. But to be honest, I couldn’t really process a word he was saying, and just sat in silence the whole way home. When he dropped me off, he wanted to come up and talk, but all I could do was shake my head no and walk away.

  I know we had only been seeing each other for a short time, but he still should have told me about Emma. He basically lied to me for months, and put me in a position to bitch-slap a little girl over the phone without knowing it. Granted, who would have thought that I would do that? Regardless, I just couldn’t stop myself. I should have been able to make my own choice about whether or not this was something I can handle, or even want to be a part of before I…

  My train of thinking comes to a screeching halt. I physically freeze as the realization of why I feel so hurt and so betrayed by this hits me, full force. It is because I’m in love with him. I love him.

  I’m in love with him. After only 2 months. This is impossible. I’ve never fallen this hard for someone this fast. Well, to be completely honest, I’ve never fallen for anyone like this ever.

  My next thought only makes me feel more hurt: If he didn’t trust in me enough to stick around after learning of Emma and her story, then he must not feel the same way about me. My phone buzzes as I wipe the tears from my eyes, and I see that it is a text from Bash.

  Bash: I’m not mad that you answered my phone and I’m not mad that you yelled at Emma, I should have told you myself. This is all my fault.

  I roll my eyes and ignore his message. Like that is my big concern right now. I go to the refrigerator for some wine, because even a gallon of ice cream wouldn’t be enough for this disaster. I decide to run a bath to soak in while I drink down the bottle. Maybe it will help me relax and think more clearly.

  As the bath, fills there is a knock at the door. I shudder and have a feeling its Bash. I don’t want to talk to him right now. What part of ‘let me think’ does he not get? Before I can reach the door to lock it, the knob turns and Betty peeks around the door as it opens. Thank god.

  I nod to her and wipe away a few more tears. She gives me a concerned look, but is hesitant to speak. I really don’t want to get into it too much, although maybe it would be good to talk about it with someone not connected to the situation. I ask Betty if she wants to sit and talk with me, and she politely accepts. I run to turn off the running water for the bath then pour us both a glass of wine.

  As I fill Betty in on the whole story she doesn’t say much, just keeps sipping her wine and listening to every word. When I finish, I wait. I’m waiting for some words of wisdom and guidance from someone wiser than me.

  “Sasha, I say this with love. However,
you sound like a spoiled rotten, self-centered little shit. If you were my daughter, I would toss you over my leg and give you a spanking to remember.” She finally proclaims.

  My jaw drops as the shock sets in. What did she just say?

  But she isn’t done yet. “You should be ashamed of yourself for acting like that. I must say, honey, I’m very disappointed in you. You should be proud to have found such a loving, protective man,” Betty continues.

  I can’t believe my ears. Did she hear nothing I said? I’m the victim here. I’m the one that was lied to. I try to defend myself, but she interrupts me before I even get a full sentence out.

  “Did you really want him to be like one of those whack jobs you have dated before? You should be happy that he wanted to protect that little girl, and not confuse her further, before introducing you. He just wanted to be sure you were fit to be around her. And if I were him, I would run for the hills, away from you, if you’re going to keep acting like this. Because it seems to me that you might not be mature enough to handle a delicate situation like this,” she rants.

  Betty takes the last sip of her wine and stands to leave. I’m frozen at the table. I have no words for her, or for myself. As she reaches the door, she turns around to leave me with one last thought.

  “Sasha, that boy has had to change his whole outlook on life. His friend died, fiancé left him, and that poor little girl lost her parents. And you’re here throwing a grade-A tantrum because he didn’t tell you his big secret as soon as you’d have liked to hear it. Really honey, who acts like that? Why don’t you go take that bath of yours and think about that!” She finishes speaking and closes the door behind her.

  As I sit down in the warm bath water, I keep thinking about what Betty had to say. I also can’t help but wonder about what I would have done if I had my own big secret like this. Would I have told him right away? Would I have kept it a secret for as long as I could, before telling him? Would I have trusted that he would stick around, no matter how long we had been dating? I don’t know. Maybe I would have done the same thing. Maybe this secret is justified. Maybe I’m just looking for a reason to break up, because that is what I always inevitably do.

  Bash has a lot of responsibility. He has a little girl to think about, and he can’t be bringing a bunch of random women around, confusing her. He needed to be sure of me before he could let me into that part of his life. To be sure of what kind of person I am, and what kind of role model I would be for her. I roll my eyes at the thought. Oh yeah, I would be a good one: twenty-four year old bartender who has no idea what to do with her life and throws tantrums worse than a five year old when I don’t get my way. Yeah, great role model I am.

  For the last hour or so, I’ve been listening to my phone ring and buzz in the background while I sort out my shit in the tub. I know it’s Bash, I think to myself as I roll my eyes. The man seriously doesn’t seem to know what the words, ‘I need to think,’ mean. To me, they mean leave me the fuck alone while I think. Not text me every ten minutes to check in.

  I pull the plug from the bathtub and watch the water slowly drain. I don’t really want to get out yet, but I know I should. My fingers and toes look like they belong to an old grandma, so I don’t think I can stall in the bath any longer. Once all the water has gone down the drain, I finally stand up and grab a towel to dry myself off. I decide to get comfy and put on some yoga pants and a sweatshirt. I throw my damp hair up in a bun before grabbing another bottle of wine on my way to the couch.

  As I wrap myself up in a blanket and snuggle into the corner of my couch, glass in hand, I tell myself that I need to decide what I’m going to say to Bash. Do I want to be part of his life, his life with Emma, with the man I love, or am I going to jump ship and hope to find love again with a man as good as Bash. He needs to be with someone that will be willing to be part of that life with him. Am I that person? Can I really be a part of that life with him, and with Emma?

  For my part, I realize that it all comes back to the fact that I just wish that he had told me. Why take the unnecessary risk of me finding out the way I did? A kid is not the end of the world.

  My phone buzzes again, and my own buzz has kicked in to high gear, so I decide to see what else Bash has to say.

  Bash: I’m sorry; I wanted to tell you so many times. I was just worried you wouldn’t want to see me again. You make me so happy and I didn’t want to lose that

  Bash: Please talk to me, call me, text me whatever I just need to hear from you

  Bash: I don’t know what I can say to make this better, I’m sorry I messed up

  Bash: ok I fucked up, can we please talk about this? I’m sorry

  Bash: Sasha please, I need to know you are ok

  Bash: I wish I could go back and tell you about Emma. This is all my fault. I understand that.

  Bash: Please talk to me. Your silence is killing me.

  Bash: are we over?

  Bash: I don’t want to lose you

  As I read the last text message, I jump up and start pacing back and forth from my couch to my kitchen. I realize now that I have been acting like a grade-A super bitch with a side of psycho.

  Sasha: I can’t tell you how much I was hurt today. And embarrassed. But I think, I mean I know, I overreacted. I should have been more open to your situation and not made me the victim here.

  Bash: I love you

  He says he loves me for the first time over a text message? My first reaction is to get freaking crazy bitch mad again, because who does that? In all fairness though, I have ignored his calls and told him to leave.

  Sasha: Why would you tell me that in a text message?

  Bash: I wanted you to know in case you didn’t want to see me again

  Sasha: I really wish you were here to tell me in person and to hold me while I apologize for how I acted.

  Bash: Open your door!

  As read the last message, my eyes damn near pop out of my head. Has he been out there this whole time? I run for the door and swing it open. Bash is sitting on the floor, facing my door.

  “Have you been sitting there this whole time?” I ask, shocked to see him.

  “Yes,” he replies shyly.

  “Why didn’t you go home?” I question, surprised that he is actually here.

  “I was hoping to get the chance to talk to you. I didn’t like seeing you so upset,” he explains as he stands up.

  I rush over to give him a hug and whisper, “I love you, too.”

  I WAS RELIEVED TO HAVE to work the next few days in a row, because it would give me some time to prepare myself to meet Emma. Bash and I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, talking about everything. He was so sorry that he didn’t tell me sooner, and I admitted that I may have overreacted about him needing to leave the party.

  Bash opened up to me more about Chloe and how she had broken his heart. She was the one person he thought would always be there through all the good, the bad, and the ugly.

  When she moved back to New York to be closer to her family, she did ask him to go with her, but he couldn’t leave his own family, and especially not Emma. Sam had trusted him enough to take care of things in his absence, and he wasn’t going to let him down. Bash wasn’t sure if he would ever find anyone that could make him feel so happy again, until he met me.

  This explained a lot; all those times that he had seemed dazed, looking off into another world, he was having a moment of hesitation. He still wasn’t sure he was ready. As he told me all of this, I was both happy that he was finally telling me everything, but at the same time I also felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. Holy shit, this is a lot of fucking pressure. When Bash asked if I wanted to meet Emma, I think the elephant stood up and decided to take that moment to break dance on me. I could feel my own panic building up. Wow, that’s a big step, meeting the little girl that now means everything to Bash. I asked if it was too soon, in light of my little episode on the phone.

  Bash told me that he was able to calm Emma an
d Jean down, and let them know that it was all a misunderstanding of sorts. I’m still freaking out a little, and I’m still pretty embarrassed about the whole thing, and kind of dread accepting Bash’s invitation to meet Emma. We thought a meal out would be a nice first step; less pressure on everyone. Yeah, tell that to the freaking elephant.

  We made plans to meet at Rudy’s Drive-In on Thursday. Rudy’s is a local drive-in style restaurant that will be closing this weekend for the winter. It is our last chance to get one of the best root beer floats in town until spring. Bash told me that it was one of Emma’s favorite spots, and was looking forward to meeting me there.

  I was contemplating getting a gift for her, but I don’t want her to think that I’m trying to buy her off. Wait, do kids at that age really think that way, or are they just stoked to get a gift when it’s not their birthday or Christmas? Maybe I’ll just pick up something small, something that says, I’m your friend.

  As the days passed by, Bash tried to give me the 411 on the now seven-year old Emma. She has done pretty well adjusting to living with her grandma, and likes having Bash as a substitute dad, so to speak. She really likes playing with Barbies, baking anything sweet, and going camping with Bash. She does some fishing, but she won’t take the fish off the hook yet herself.

  I really want to make a good impression when I meet her, but I feel like I might be over thinking this a little. I mean she’s just kid right. How hard could it possibly be to impress a kid?

  Thursday came sooner than I had hoped. I finally decided to pick up a She-Ra doll for Emma as my gift of choice. I thought it was a pretty good idea, since She-Ra was and still is my most favorite cartoon character. Plus, if she ever asks me to play dolls with her, I can grab She-Ra. I really never understood Barbie when I was growing up. You dress her up, put her in a car or house or tea set or some other really girly thing, change her clothes again, and that’s it. Maybe brush her hair after, and play a story out with Ken picking her up for a date. Or a shopping trip to the mall with Skipper. Boring!

 

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