Julio made a face. "You know I can't eat curry," he complained. "It doesn't agree with me. And I can never read the little tiny subtitles on those French films Sasha loves."
Sasha smiled in spite of her misery. "I'll take pity on you, then," she assured Julio. "Especially since I need cheering up right now. Why don't you pick out a good comedy we can watch? As far as dinner is concerned, believe it or not, I'm actually in the mood for pizza and red wine."
Julio clapped his hands in glee. "Now you're talking, querida! Let me go see if I can pry Elliott out of his bat cave for a night so he can join us. And Sadie's at home for once. She has Sundays off from the strip club."
Chad shook his head. "For the fiftieth time - at least - Sadie does not work in a strip club. It's officially called a gentleman's club."
"Yeah, right," snorted Julio. "Call it what you like, but I know what I saw the one time I went to watch her perform, and the girls might as well have been buck naked for the little scraps they were wearing. And the guys didn't look much like gentlemen to me."
"Just go ask them if they want to join us," instructed Chad. "But don't tell them all the details, would you? I doubt Sasha wants all of her personal business shared with the whole household."
"Fine. What should I tell them then?" asked Julio with an exaggerated sigh.
Sasha's chin wobbled as she blinked back tears. "That I've got a broken heart," she whispered. "And that the only short term cure I can think of is eating something greasy and trying to drink away my sorrows. Both of which are always easier when you've got as many friends as possible around you."
Chapter Eighteen
June
Matthew waited impatiently for the single serve coffeemaker to finish brewing, almost desperate for his morning caffeine fix. In the nearly four weeks since he'd been living back here in Hillsborough, he had yet to have a good night's sleep, and most nights was lucky to get three or four hours. Last night had been no exception, and he didn't expect the situation to improve anytime soon.
He couldn't recall a time in his life when he'd been so unhappy, so depressed, and the only real bright spot in his daily existence was his son. The one upshot of living here again had been being able to spend more time with Casey, and that was practically the only thing keeping him sane. The two of them would have dinner out at least twice a week, and Matthew made it a point to attend as many of Casey's summer league baseball games as possible. And since school was out for the summer, Casey had more free time in the evenings to watch movies or quiz his father about computer programming. Matthew was more than a little astonished to realize just how smart his son was, how adept at figuring things out, even more so than he and his genius-level IQ siblings had been at the same age.
Hayley, meanwhile, seemed at times to completely forget the fact that she was expecting a baby. She hadn't breathed a word about the pregnancy to any of her friends, and had sworn Matthew and Casey to secrecy. She didn't seem to have a care in the world otherwise, and went about her life as though nothing at all was different, or was going to change in a very big way within the next few months. She was always asleep when he left for the office, and slept in until at least noon on the weekends. Hayley was rarely home in the evenings, preferring to spend time going to the mall or the movies with her girlfriends, and she seemed impatient and bored to tears whenever Matthew tried to engage her in conversation.
But when he had commented in a sarcastic tone the other night that she didn't seem to care one way or the other if he was here or not, Hayley had given him a hug and a little kiss on the cheek, assuring him that it meant the world to her to have him back, and that she hadn't been this happy in months. Matthew hadn't been entirely convinced that she was sincere, however, especially when she promptly turned down his invitation to join him and Casey for dinner the following evening, claiming she'd already promised Brianne to go shopping with her.
The coffee finished brewing, and Matthew grabbed the mug almost desperately, not caring that he burned the roof of his mouth by gulping a third of the hot liquid down at once. It was one of those mornings, he thought caustically, that he wished he could hook himself up to a coffee drip and have the caffeine delivered right to his veins.
His thoughts drifted automatically to Sasha, as they did so frequently these days, and wondered if she was already up and about. He knew her to be an early riser, particularly on the days like this one when she taught a morning class, and he tried to picture her at the studio going through her own practice. He missed those mornings when he had woken early, only to find that she'd been up for more than an hour already, putting herself through a grueling routine. If he shut his eyes, he could picture her now standing in a one-legged tree pose, or dropping back effortlessly into a graceful backbend. Or simply sitting in a cross-legged lotus position, her eyes closed, and her hands in prayer at her heart. He had timed her once as she sat unmoving that way, and for more than five minutes she hadn't so much as flinched, deeply immersed in silent meditation. She had looked so lovely, so utterly calm and peaceful, that he'd been envious in a way – envious because he himself had never known that sort of serenity before. And now, because fate had dealt him this very unexpected hand, Matthew feared he'd never come close to feeling the way he had during his time with Sasha - happy, content, and loved.