“Shouldn’t you be working?” Even that morsel was too much. Not that her mother would know what it was like to work a job outside of ladies’ lunches with her cronies, during which they drank vats of gin and tore down whoever couldn’t join them that day. Good times.
“I’m an event planner, Mom. Most of my work is at night.” Sasha knew that was a mistake the moment she said it.
“That explains why you can’t seem to meet a nice man.” There it went. About thirty seconds into her conversation. This might be a record.
Her best option now was a redirect. She sighed. “Did you need something, Mom?”
Because her parents had paid for her condo in Chicago, she owed it to them to pretend she respected them the two times a year she visited and over the phone. It strained more and more every year, but she should be able to pay her own way soon. And then— she allowed herself to fantasize for a brief moment. Then she might never talk to either of her parents and maybe even her sisters again.
“I just called to tell you that Marlena is pregnant.” Somehow, her mother managed to share that otherwise happy information with judgment toward Sasha’s different choices. Sasha would never, ever talk to her daughter that way if she was lucky enough to have one.
“That’s wonderful news,” Sasha said, with genuine happiness for her sister. They didn’t understand each other, but she wished her sister every joy. “I will call her after my workout class.”
She had never been so happy to see the gym where she and Hannah took bootcamp classes three times a week. That kind of suffering she could handle.
“I gotta go, Mom.” She opened the glass door, and then raised her voice over the din of the waiting room. She spotted Hannah and pointed at her phone, mouthing, “My mom.” Hannah rolled her eyes in sympathy. “I’m at the gym.”
“Well, at least you aren’t letting yourself get fat,” her mom said, and then hung up. Nothing like a little fat-shaming to sign off with. Next time she’d be sure to tell her mother about eating a really decadent dessert, just to spike Moira’s blood pressure.
Sasha had actually always loved working out. It was one of the only activities that allowed her to make her mother think she was complying with the patriarchal beauty standards the Finerghty women were bound to by tradition, while simultaneously making her feel strong and capable. It was both compliant and subversive.
Hannah used to joke that Sasha had grown up preparing to be a revolutionary in Gilead but stopped when Sasha told her that it hit far too close to home. That was the great thing about having a friend like Hannah—she would say anything but shut up quick if her honesty was inadvertently hurtful.
Today, however, her best friend was uncharacteristically silent at their workout class. And a little bit green around the gills. This was deeply concerning, because she could usually count on Hannah to get her through a bootcamp workout with the power of her sarcasm.
Without the running commentary, she felt as though she was dragging through the class.
“Are you okay?” Sasha asked during a water break.
Sasha looked at her best friend, and Hannah looked decidedly not okay. Her normally flawless skin was an alarming shade of green.
“Do you need to leave?”
Hannah held up one finger. “I think . . .” That was all she got out before running out the door and straight toward the bathroom. Sasha smiled apologetically at the instructor and gathered both their things.
Although she was concerned about Hannah, she had an inkling of what was going on. Hannah and Jack had gotten married last year, and this was probably part of the natural course of things. Sasha would definitely ignore the jealous feelings she had that her friend was probably pregnant, and she was ambivalent about going on a second date with the only relevant guy who’d shown interest in months.
She was not a bad friend, and this was about Hannah. Whom she found retching in the bathroom stall farthest from the door. Sasha knocked gently.
“Just leave me here to die.”
Sasha ignored her and swung the stall door open. “That’s not part of the deal.”
“I did not sign up for this when I agreed to get sperminated.” Well, if she had her sense of humor, she was probably further from death than Sasha thought.
“Didn’t you?” When Hannah shot her a death glare over her shoulder, Sasha added, “Congratulations?”
“I was going to tell you today at brunch.” Hannah clutched the sides of the toilet and puked again. They were definitely going to have to take a car home, and Sasha left the stall briefly to grab some of the plastic bags the gym provided for soiled workout gear for the ride. At least their misadventures in college had prepared Hannah to puke discreetly in the back of a cab.
“I would have guessed when you ordered an orange juice without champagne in it.”
Hannah nodded pathetically. “That definitely would have given me away.”
Sasha sighed. “How are we going to get you home?”
“I can’t go home,” Hannah whined. “I was supposed to meet with Father Patrick.”
Sasha tried her best to ignore the frisson of awareness that just hearing his name spread through her. “What for?”
“The pre-K program is in some financial trouble, and Jack said that we’d help out.” Hannah made a vague motion with her hands. “Set up a fundraiser.”
“He did?” Sasha really liked Jack, but sometimes he was entirely too nice. And sometimes his too-niceness forced her and Hannah to commit to things that they did not need to commit to. But one fundraiser wasn’t a huge deal. Her hesitation wasn’t about the extra work.
It was about whom they were doing it for.
If it was any other priest who needed help saving a preschool program, Sasha wouldn’t hesitate. She had to be careful not to hesitate now, or Hannah would know something was up. She might be incapacitated, but she was way too sharp, and they’d known each other for too long for Sasha to be able to obfuscate.
“I’ll go to the meeting for you.”
That got Hannah to raise her head. “You will?” She sounded so pathetic that Sasha had to fight off a smile. It was only since she’d met and fallen in love with Jack that she’d let herself be vulnerable around anyone.
“Of course I will.”
“But you’ll have to be alone with Father Patrick.” Hannah had noted that Sasha avoided interacting with Father Patrick; that’s how she’d figured out that Sasha had a crush. Best friend logic at work.
“It will be fine.” Sasha tried to make herself sound nonchalant and failed.
It was Hannah’s turn to sigh. “Okay, well, as long as your crush on him isn’t going to be a problem.”