Sasha (Mixed Drinks #1) (20 page)

AFTER PUTTING EMMA TO BED, Bash and I sat on the couch to talk. I feel like I’m the one who is seven, about to get punished for not playing nicely on the playground.
I’m the real victim here!
I want to shout. But you know how dumb that would sound? I mean she’s just a kid.

“Bash, I am so sorry. I really am. I would never hurt Emma like that, I just got caught off guard and I didn’t know what I was doing.” I plead.

“Sasha, it’s ok. Well, it’s not ok, but it is, kind of. I don’t know. I feel like maybe I pushed you into getting to know Emma too fast. Maybe this is a mistake…” He trails off, looking toward his wringing hands.

“No! No, don’t say that! You didn’t, it’s fine. I really didn’t mean to do it. It just happened. I’m just not used to having a kid around. Had it been you next to me, I probably would have shoved you at him.” I exclaim, although it doesn’t really come out like I thought it would.

“Sasha, you have to know that Emma will always be part of my life. I love you, however she has to come first,” Bash says.

“Bash, I know. And I like Emma, but it’s only been a few weeks since I found out about her. You have to give me some time, here.” I can hardly hold back the tears as I speak.

“Well,” he sighs, “I may not have that much time to give you.” He says, looking up at me as he wipes a tear from my cheek.

“What do you mean? Are you on some kind of deadline, where if you don’t see mothering potential, you just drop me and go look for the next one?” I ask, getting suddenly angry. “I mean, you’re the one that hid her from me, and now you’re on some kind of timeline for me to be Emma-worthy. That’s not fair!” I continue.

“Sasha, stop! It’s not that,” he interrupts my rant. Bash lowers his voice before he continues. “Jean’s cancer is back, and it is more aggressive this time. The doctors say there is not much more they can do for her, other than manage her pain.”

I’m speechless. My heart drops to the floor. All I can think is,
this poor women
. Her husband is gone, son killed, and now she has to deal with cancer. She will never see her granddaughter grow into a woman.
And poor Bash
. With Jean sick, the responsibility to raise Emma will fall completely on him.

“Bash, I, I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I thought she was in remission,” I offer quietly.

“Emma doesn’t know yet, and I want to keep it that way for as long as I can. All she knows right now is that Grandma doesn’t feel well,” he explains.

“Bash, again I am so sorry about Jean, and I will help out in any way I can.”
And I mean it.

“Thank you. But now do you see that I may not have time for a relationship?” he asks, defeated.

“Um, no! Lots of single parents do it, so why can’t you? Emma and I will be fine. We just need some time to get used to each other. I don’t see this as a problem.” I’m kind of lying here, but really one day I do hope for it to be truth.

We sit in silence for awhile holding hands, his thumb caressing my palm ever so gently. I just want to jump into his arms, kiss him, and tell him everything will be ok. But the truth is, he has a hard road ahead of him.

The next morning, I wake up before everyone else and decide to make some French toast and eggs. If I’m gonna have this strange, sort of-stepmom role someday, I should start practicing.
I can do this
. Emma will be just fine with me once she really gets to know me. Maybe I will offer to take her to the mall for a mani and pedi today before work, so we can have a good talk.

As the scent of food cooking roams throughout the halls, soon Bash and Emma get up and join me for breakfast. I happily make them up plates and set one in front of each of them.

“On Sundays we have donuts, not
this
.” Emma states bluntly.

“Emma! Don’t be rude! She didn’t know. We will do donuts next Sunday,” Bash declares.

“Oh I’m sorry, I had no idea. I thought we could have breakfast and then Bash, if it’s ok with you, I thought Emma and I could run up to the mall. I would like to treat her to her first manicure and maybe a pedicure.” I announce to the table.

Bash looks at me and smiles then turns to Emma for her response. Emma kind of looks back at him like a deer in headlights, not sure which way to go in order to avoid the car.

“Emma, what do you think? That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” Bash prods her gently.

“Um, ok. But Bash, can’t you come with us?” she finally responds.

“It sounds more like a girl’s day to me. You’ll have fun. You like Sasha,” he adds, probably for my benefit.

Bash offers to clean up so we can head out to the mall and still have time for me to get ready for work afterwards. I put on a smile and ask Emma if she is ready. She slowly moves to the door and gives me a distrustful look.
What does this kid think I’m going to do to her?
I mean, really.

As we pull away from the curb, she wastes no time trying to get to the bottom of things.

“So, are we really going to the mall, or are you just going to drop me off somewhere while you leave, hoping I get kidnapped?”

“Listen to me, Emma. I don’t know what is going on here, but it needs to stop right now. I’m a good person, and you would see that if you would just let go of the chip on your shoulder,” I tell her.

“I don’t have a chip on my shoulder, I just don’t want you to take Bash away from me. My grandma said that one day Bash would find a girl that I would have to share him with,” she announces.

“What? Why would she tell you that?” I ask.

“Because I asked her if Bash was my new daddy, and why if I have a new daddy, then where is my new mommy. She told me that my mommy and daddy would always be my mommy and daddy, but that since they are gone, Bash would be the one to take care of me,” she explains matter of factly.

“Yeah, so where does the sharing part come in?” I ask, very confused.

“I was happy that I got Bash all to myself, and maybe will live with him soon, but then Grandma said that one day I would have to share him with whoever he married. I don’t want Bash to get married, because then he won’t want me anymore.” She says, starting to cry.

I sit and process what she has just said. I’m sure Jean meant well by what she told Emma. However, right now Emma has it in her head that if she scares any girls away, then he will never get married, and she will never lose him.

“Emma honey, Bash will want to get married some day. However, that doesn’t mean that he will love you any less than he does right now. We all have to share the people in our lives. It’s how we learn to really love them.” I try to explain this to her, but I’m really new at this, so I have no clue if I’m making it any better or worse.

“What if I already know how to love? Does that mean that I don’t have to share anymore?” she asks seriously.

“Well, no, not really. Bash will have needs, and will need a woman in his life. Some may come and go, but one day he will find the right one. And through it all, he will always have you.”

“What kids of ‘needs?’” she asks.

Fuck, I’m not good at this at all
. I’m going to scar this child’s brain for life. Or worse, end up giving her a birds and bees talk that I’m sure Bash and Jean will not be too happy with.

“Ah well, um, let’s see. Oh, like doing the dishes, and laundry, and washing the floors and… I don’t know, clean his fish,” I stutter awkwardly.

“But, I can help do all that, so he doesn’t need you, he has me.” She says happily.

“Um well, yeah I guess, except you’re a kid. You should be doing kid things too, not just cleaning." I try to back step, but she is on to me.

“I still think he doesn’t need you,” she declares.

“Let’s agree to disagree then, shall we?” I say with a smile, trying to end this line of conversation.

“I don’t know what that means.” She pauses briefly before continuing. “I guess if I get my nails done, and maybe a new pair of shoes, I can tell Bash what a great time I had today.” She says, looking at me and batting her little eyelashes.

“Yeah that is called blackmail, if you didn’t already know, and I don’t do blackmail!” I laugh.

After our manicure and pedicure, we head over to
Payless
where I do in fact buy little miss blackmailer some new shoes. I figure that if I can’t explain to her why Bash and I are not a bad thing maybe, I can at least bribe her into liking me enough to want me around.

I pull back up to Bash’s house at about 11:00, with just enough time to shower and head to work. When we walk inside, Emma runs up to Bash, eager to show off her new Mary Janes that are covered in pink glitter. He smiles tells her how pretty they are, and watches her run off to her room.

“So you girls went shopping, too?” he asks.

“Well, the girl has a way of getting what she wants,” I say with a smirk.

THE NEXT FEW MONTHS FLY by like a dream, and before we know it, we are getting ready to celebrate the New Year. Thanksgiving and Christmas were interesting though, to say the least. Spending time with Bash and his family was never dull. George was always happy to see me walk through the door, and would let me know the following Sunday at the bar that I had the family’s approval.

Thanksgiving gave me a lot of time to hang out with Bash’s mom, Kathy, and also with Emma. Bash and his dad, John had a tradition of going deer hunting before dinner every year. I have to say, I’ve never understood the attraction to sitting outside in November in Wisconsin, waiting for a deer to walk by. I had offered to make the pies for the meal, but Kathy insisted that I was their guest, and I should just bring myself.

When we got to my parents house though, it was a different story for Bash. My mom had a laundry list of things that Bash could help my dad with, as long as she was still cooking. Emma sat in the kitchen and was the sweetest little girl, offering to help, and being so polite that it was sickening. At one point, my mom looked at me and said, “Oh I wish you had been this well behaved growing up,” then smiled and went back to mixing the mashed potatoes.
If my mom only knew the truth
. I had recently found that some of the items that I kept at Bash’s house had ‘gone missing’; like my mascara, my favorite blue tank top, one shoe, and now I have resorted to carrying my toothbrush in my purse, and hoping that she didn’t do anything to it before I got smart about it.

At Christmas, Kathy still wouldn’t let me lift a finger to help her in the kitchen, until I mentioned that I enjoyed it. I don’t really, however I felt like I should do
something
. All of the men were out in the living room, talking about how big their cocks were. Ok, they may not have actually been talking about that specifically, but with all of the stories going around about hunting and fishing and the ones that got away, they may as well have been.

Again, when we got to my house, my mom had my dad and Bash working on a to-do list, while Emma and I helped her finish cooking. It all seemed a bit routine now.
I liked it
. I never thought I would settle into such a relationship. When I was little, I always pictured romance as some version of a Disney movie. And even though I have come to believe that
happily ever after
was a cheap gimmick, I was starting to realize that for the first time in what seemed like ever, I was actually happy being in a relationship.

Bash’s parents liked me, and my parents liked Bash. But really, what was not to like? He was gorgeous, and sweet, thoughtful, respectful, and took care of the ones he loved.
He took in an orphan, for crying out loud!
My dad really took to him, and after they were done with whatever mundane tasks my mom had given them to do, they would sit in the living room and play several games of backgammon. My dad loved playing games, and we would sit there for hours when I was a kid playing Backgammon, Gin, and Cribbage. Once in a while he would let me pick Clue. He liked games that made the players think, not the commercial-driven, silly board games that are meant to keep the kids out of your hair for a brief period of time.

Emma and I were gaining some ground in our relationship. Well, as long as I continued to make blackmail payments, consisting of pretty dresses or sparkly things to put in her hair. Bash thought I was just spoiling her, and warned me against it. Truth be told, I knew better than to try and ‘buy’ a kid’s affection. But sometimes you have to break the rules to make life just a little easier. My only hope is that she grows out of this little business of hers before she breaks my bank.