Roman was correct. If this is how each moment felt, the pain would quickly eat away the years.
“Ve need to talk.” Babushka sat in the chair across from Sadie’s desk.
“What do you want to talk about?” Sadie asked, adjusting the jacket of her skirt suit.
“My Roman, he did ask for my help to get you two together,” Babushka admitted. “I did things I do not regret to ensure this happened.”
“I know I keep firing you and you keep coming back. But I really think it’s time for the Dvornakovs to move along so I can, too.” Sadie said it and she meant it. Oh, how she meant it.
“Roman may have asked me to meddle, but I make my own choices when I help someone vith love,” Babushka said with a smack on the desktop. “You are blind to this. Vhat is right for your heart.”
“Babushka—”
“I only help those who are hashtag M-F-E-O.” Babushka raised her eyebrows and made her eyes comically wide.
Sade couldn’t help but smile. “Made for each other?”
“Yes,” Babushka said. “You two are whole apart, but together, you are more. Two halves that equal more than a whole. That is a special gift that you don’t turn away from vhen it is offered. I had that vith my husband.”
Sadie shifted in her seat. “What happened between Rome and me is nothing that anyone else needs to be concerned about.”
“You are family. Roman is family. You are my vorry. It’s vhat I do.” Babushka reached across the desk and squeezed Sadie’s hands where she had folded them on the desk.
“You are a smart girl. Roman is smart boy. My great-granddaughter named after me vill be as intelligent as she is beautiful. Don’t take that hope away from an old woman.”
Sadie’s heart actually hurt at the idea of a little Dvornakov girl named Nadzieja who wouldn’t be hers.
“Your ten o’clock is here.” Babushka gave one final squeeze to Sadie’s hands.
Sadie shook her head. “I don’t have a ten o’clock.”
“You do,” Babushka replied with a very heavy wink. “His name is Harry.”
Sadie followed Babushka back to the reception area where Etta was chatting up an elderly man holding a tweed flatcap in his hands.
“Hello,” she said, the greeting sounding a little more like a question.
“You’re Sadie?” he asked.
“I am,” she replied. “What can I do for you today?”
“Well, I’m in a pickle.” He stretched his expression into a grimace. “It’s my understanding that you offer legal assistance to the building owners as part of your lease agreement?”
Sadie nodded.
“What kind of pickle are we talking about?” Sadie asked.
“It seems I got arrested,” Harry said.
Oh. Well, that would be a pickle.
“Shall we go in my office and discuss what happened?” she asked.
He nodded, following her through the small reception area. Babushka smiled knowingly.
“Can I get you something to drink, Harry?” Sadie asked.
“No, thank you.” Harry took a seat and patted his hip. He removed a small coil-bound notebook and a metal ballpoint pen. He placed them in front of him in what appeared to be a precise layout.
