She narrows her eyes at me for a minute. “Is it that union girl? She had a thing for you. I can tell. Wouldn’t be the first woman who fell for you against her best interest.”
I flinch. “How could you say something like that?”
“Women are looking for someone who can give them stability. Are you interested in settling down?” She pokes at a potato with the spoon. Water spills over the top of the pot and hisses as it makes contact with the gas flame below.
“You know how I was raised,” I say.
She presses her lips together. “What is wrong with these potatoes? I’m going to complain to the produce department.”
I don’t move and she puts the spoon down. “We didn’t know what to do with you. You were too smart for your own good. We thought encouraging you to work toward seeking office would be a good use of your talents.”
“My talents,” I say. “Right.”
She goes back to the potatoes, and I give up, heading to the door.
“Finn.”
I turn to look at her.
“You have a lot to offer that girl, if that’s what you want. You have a lot to offer anyone.” She holds my gaze for a minute and goes back to torturing the potatoes.
It’s not the apology I wanted, but I know it’s the best I’ll get from her. And that’s enough for now.
We eat together as a family for the first time in a long time. Bridget and Rory seem more like twins than the actual twins of our family, Callan and Catriona, as they dare each other to eat a particularly bad-looking potato. Siobhan talks to my father about music while Patrick eats as much of the rescued roast as humanly possible. It’s strange how normal and domestic a scene it is.
I think about Sasha and wonder what she’s doing right now. I can’t stop thinking about her, and it disturbs me.
Eventually, Siobhan leans over. “You know, this is a time when you probably should just show up at her house. Bring some flowers, though. Nice ones.” She registers my surprise. “What? You’re brooding. Stop brooding and go get the girl,” she whispers.
After dinner, I excuse myself and head out. All of the nice florists are closed, but some of the higher end supermarkets will have something decent. It’s after eight when I pull up to Sasha’s house.
I take a deep breath and step out of my SUV.
22
Sasha
My father chucks another empty beer can into the recycling bin. I’d set one up near his chair so he’d be less likely to toss them on the floor.
“Bin’s full!” he screams at me.
It’s trash night anyway, so I might as well take it out. It’s cold, but I don’t bother putting a coat on and just grab the bin and carry it out to the curb.
We’ve had more snow, and the banks pushed up from the plows come up to my hip. I nestle the bin securely in the one closest to the road and am about to head back in and grab the trash when I hear my name.
Finn crosses the street and comes over to where I’m standing.
“Hi.”
“Should you be driving with a sling?” I ask. It’s stupid, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.
“No, probably not.” He shrugs. “But I wanted to see you.”
He holds out a bouquet of hydrangeas, and I take them gingerly.
“Thank you.” They’re bright blue with big green leaves.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he says. “I meant to. I just had so many things I wanted to say to you, and I didn’t know where to start.”
“It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything. You saved Benjamin. And I know you’ll be respectful to the casino staff in a way your father wouldn’t.” The man who took a bullet for my brother isn’t the same man who had me brought forcibly to his house those weeks ago. That’s clear, no matter how the rest of this conversation goes.
“I owe you everything. Everything, Sasha. I was just so overwhelmed.” He notices me shivering.
“Where’s your coat?” he asks, running a hand down my arm. “You shouldn’t be outside without a coat. It’s freezing.”
“Trash day tomorrow.” I nod at the recycling.
“Oh. Let me help you with the rest of that.”
I look back at the house dubiously. It feels obscene having someone as well-dressed as Finn in my shoddy house, carrying out our garbage.
“Come on,” he says, curling an arm around me. “We need to talk.”
We head back inside.
“I don’t want to talk in front of my father,” I murmur. “My bedroom…”
“Very forward of you,” he says.
I laugh despite my nervousness. When we get to my room, I place the flowers on the dresser. Why am I so scared now? I feel a deep longing to be held, to be comforted. I’m so tired of always having to be strong.
“I’ve missed you, Sasha. I didn’t know if you wanted to see me after everything that happened. After what I did, and what my father did.”
I take a deep breath and sit on the bed with my legs crossed under me. “I do want to see you.”
He sits next to me. My bed is way too small for a man like Finn, and it groans under his weight.
“Why did you step down from the Trinity case?” he asks.
Business, then?
“It was too personal. Now that the worst part is over, I knew someone else would feel comfortable taking it on. Besides, I want to go back to school and I couldn’t do that if I were mid-negotiations.”
“That’s great. Have you applied anywhere?”
“I’ll go back to Salem State. I was already two years in, and they’ll let me keep my credits.”
I’ll have to take out a bunch of loans, but I need some forward momentum.
“I want to do social work,” I continue. “Which means graduate school, but I’ll figure it out.”
“You’ll be amazing at that,” he says. He’s watching my mouth and it sends a spark through me. “I’m thinking of grad school too. Something like museum curation so I can run a place like the athenaeum. Make it more accessible.”
“That sounds perfect.” I reach out and touch his thigh. The heat of that one touch sears me, and I pull my hand back. “Sorry.”
He takes my hand and puts it back on his thigh. “Don’t be.”
He kisses me softly, caressing my cheek as he does, running his hand down my shoulder and across my back. I slide my arms around his neck, careful to avoid his injury. He kisses me until I’m breathless, then pulls away, taking my hands in his.
“I don’t deserve you, Sasha. But I care about you, a lot, and I want to be with you. I like who I am when I’m with you, and I haven’t liked myself for a very, very long time.”
My heart pounds. This can’t be real.
“But I’m…” I look around my shoddy bedroom. “Finn, you could get any woman you want.”
“I want you. I’d give up everything I have and live in a shack on the Mystic if it means I could be with you.”
I reach up and stroke his hair, down the stubble on his chin. Sometimes he has a beard, sometimes he doesn’t, but he looks amazing either way.