Before We Were Strangers: A Love Story

GRACE

Over the next week, Ash got into the habit of making plans with her dad and not telling me. When I would scold her for it, she would say, “Parents are supposed to communicate with each other. Even nonmarried ones.”

That was Ash, always being the grown-up.

I knew Matt and I couldn’t go on like this, conflicted and torn. We deserved more from each other, but I wasn’t sure if either of us was ready.

Finally, one afternoon, Matt came by to pick up Ash. I answered the door and invited him in. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching me as I dried the dishes.

“How are you?” he asked, a little formally but not uncomfortably.

“Good. I’ve been practicing with the Philharmonic after school. I might be sitting in for their cellist, actually, but I would have to leave for two weeks in the summer. I’m not sure if I want to leave Ash behind for that long.”

“That’s fantastic, Grace. I could take Ash; maybe we could plan a trip to California for then.”

Ash called down from upstairs, “Give me five minutes, Dad!”

“Okay,” he called back.

“Where are you guys off to?” I asked without looking up.

“We’re going to the Met and then dinner.”

I glanced at the clock; it was five fifteen. “You’ll never make it up there before it closes.”

“They’re open till nine on Fridays.”

“Oh, that’s right.” I suddenly realized we were having the most normal conversation we’d ever had: just two people discussing the quotidian details of our lives.

Ash came into the kitchen wearing a crop top, and my eyes bugged out. “Excuse me, do you have a sweater to go with that?”

Ash rolled her eyes.

“That eye-rolling business has to stop. Your mom just asked you a question,” Matt said sharply.

Whoa. I hadn’t had that kind of backup in a long time.

“I know, Dad, I just . . .”

“Nope. Go upstairs and get a sweater.”

Ash huffed and left the room. Matt and I stared at each other for a few seconds before he walked over to me. “You look different. You seem happier.”

I hadn’t realized it before, but I think he was right. “Yeah, maybe.”

“You’re welcome to come with us, if you want.”

“That’s okay. I have some papers to grade.”

He looked at me steadily for a couple of beats and then shrugged. “All right, see ya.” He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, as if he had done it a million times before.

Once Ash came down the stairs, I followed them out of the front door and watched as they walked toward the subway. They were laughing . . . and it sounded like music. A part of me wanted to join them, but another part told me to stay. As much as I loved seeing Matt, and as much as I loved spending that night at his apartment, the endless rejections over the years—and the way he had taken the news about Ash—had scarred me so thoroughly that it was hard to believe he was there with us, like I had always wanted.

I never really doubted his love for me, but it scared me that he was keeping a safe distance. I needed to protect myself.

WE BEGAN SPLITTING our weekends up. Ash would go to Matt’s on either Fridays or Saturdays, and we alternated Sundays.

The New York Philharmonic officially offered me the cellist seat for two weeks, so I spent my time away from Ash practicing the music and preparing for my two-week trip abroad.

Ash finished her freshman year of high school with phenomenal grades and received an award of overall excellence. Both Matt and I attended the ceremony, and he was beaming the entire time, like the proud dad that he was. When we left the auditorium that day, he hugged me for a long time and whispered, “You did good with her. Thank you. I’m so proud of my girls.”

My heart ached at his words. I didn’t know if anyone had ever told me they were proud of me, and there was no one in the world I wanted to hear those words from more than him.

The summer began and I knew Ash would get bored, so I signed her up for a summer photography workshop. As soon as Matt caught wind of it, he signed up, too. I knew he could have taught the class himself, but he just wanted the time with his daughter. Ash told me that once all her classmates found out who he was, he became a rock star to everyone, including the instructor. Ash told me he was even dabbling with a more artistic style from the documentary style that had made him famous.

It was strange how Matt and I were finding ourselves again; it was like we were picking up where we had left off, with both of us exploring our passions with renewed energy. Part of me felt like I was living the life I’d been meant to live. The only problem was that Matt and I weren’t exactly doing it together. We were running on parallel tracks.

One night, Ash seemed down.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said in a flat voice.

“Talk to me.” I sat next to her on her bed.

“Dad told me that he was offered a job in Singapore for National Geographic. He’s supposed to transfer in the fall.”

My eyes widened in shock. “What? When did he tell you that?” I could not imagine Matt leaving now after he and Ash had become so close and everyone was finally healing.

She started crying. “A long time ago. Like, right when we met, but now the thought of it makes me so sad.”

“What? I can’t even . . . when did this . . .” I barely knew how to respond. “I’ll talk to him.”

She wiped away the tears and stood up. “I’m so sick of you guys dancing around each other like you’re in junior high. I actually have friends with more mature relationships than the two of you.”

“That’s enough,” I said, sharply.

She stomped her foot. “No, I’m sick of it. You guys need a push.”

“Ash, that’s not for you to decide.”

“Well, maybe if you’d get over yourself, Dad wouldn’t leave.”

She ran out into the hall and into the bathroom and slammed the door.

“Ash, come back!”

I walked to the bathroom and pounded on the door, but she wouldn’t open it. After a few minutes, I gave up and went to my own room. I was angry. Upset. Confused. Was he really leaving? How the hell could he do this to us? To me?

Eventually, I heard Ash leave the bathroom and go to her room. When I went to check on her an hour later, she was fast asleep.

I called Tati and asked her to come over.

“It’s ten o’clock,” she said, flatly.

“I need to go to Matt’s and I don’t know how long I’ll be there.”

“Can’t you just call him?”

“No, because I need to punch him in the face.”

“Oh, Jesus. What happened now?”

“Ash said he might be taking a job in Singapore. We just had a big fight about it, and I don’t know what the hell to do. Just come over, please.”

“Got it. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

After Tati got to my house, I stormed several blocks to Matt’s house, raging with anger. I rang the buzzer over and over again.

“Yes?” Matt said over the speaker.

“It’s your baby-mama. Let me in.”

I heard him laugh. “Come right up.”

When I got to the loft, he opened the door wide, smiling. “Gracie.”

“Don’t Gracie me, you bastard.” I shoved past him, threw my purse down, and crossed my arms. He looked scared. “What in the fuck, Matt? What is wrong with you?”

He leaned against the wall, perhaps to get as far away from me as possible. “What are you talking about?”

“Our poor daughter was in tears tonight because you told her you were moving to Singapore. Is that true? Because if it is—”

“Grace, stop. Listen to me.” It looked like he was searching his mind. “I mentioned to her that I got a job offer a long time ago, when we barely knew each other.”

“Well?”

“I told my boss I couldn’t take it.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “When?”

“After that night you came here. I never would have left anyway; I was just in a daze. I had requested a job in the field before I reconnected with you and met Ash.” He was sincere, pleading. “I feel bad that she’s been dwelling on it.”

“Yeah, well, kids do that.”

He came toward me and reached out for my hands and held them between us. “I’m still learning, Grace.”

I looked down and shook my head. “I know, I’m sorry. I overreacted. She was just in so much pain. I just couldn’t watch her go through what I went through . . .”

His eyes looked haunted. “I’m never gonna leave you guys. You have to believe me, Gracie. You have to.”

I stared at him hard. “Make me believe.”

He ran his thumb over my lip. “I will, even if it fucking takes me forever.” And then his lips were on mine and we were in it, pulling away from the past and rushing fast into the future.