Chapter Fourteen
Molly
Greg and I take a couple of days to recalibrate the center’s budget. The last time we did this, it was a grim task, and we had to make some deeply painful cuts. It’s different now. With the influx of cash, we get to throw money around like Oprah. In fact, Greg keeps pretending to be her, shouting, “you get a raise!” “you get new carpet!” “you get a new chair!” as we allocate the funds. There’s even enough leftover to start the digital outreach campaign we always talked about. We’ll be able to get the word out, and sign up many more new clients.
Thanks to Franco’s donation, I feel more hopeful than I have in a long time. It’s such a relief. I’d thought I was close to having to shut the doors. It’s funny, and a bit sad, how money can make your problems disappear, poof, just like that. I know Franco and his family are flush with cash, and they probably won’t miss it, but I’m deeply touched by their generosity. They are helping so many people.
It makes me feel a bit guilty for rebuffing Sal. Sure, he can be difficult to deal with, but maybe that’s just him. As a counselor, I know it’s worth looking past someone’s troubling behaviors to their heart. I just don’t know if Sal will let me. He’s so closed off.
I want to send around a mass email informing the counselors of their raises, and the changes happening around the office. But Greg insists we announce it in person.
One morning, we call the entire staff into the break room. I stand with Greg at the front of the room. My counselors look worried. They aren’t used to good news, only bad. They probably think we’re going to announce the end of the center.
Not today, I think, smiling inwardly.
I let Greg take the lead, since he’s still possessed with Oprah’s ghost. He stands by my side, beaming brilliantly. It warms my soul to see Greg happy, truly happy. He’s an expert at managing expectations, and not getting too emotionally invested in the lows of nonprofit work, but this is what he truly wants, to be working somewhere that’s successfully changing people’s lives.
“Molly and I have a very exciting announcement,” Greg begins. He clasps my hand. “Thanks to Molly’s tireless efforts, she’s been able to secure a donation for-“ He pauses for effect, glancing around the room. “One hundred thousand dollars.”
The counselors let out a collective gasp. They cover their mouths, their eyes widen. They can barely believe this. No one saw this coming. Myself included.
“Each and every one of you will get a raise,” Greg continues. “We’re getting new carpet for the building, a new air-conditioning system, and everyone gets a new chair!” He raises his arms in the air, and the general spirit of the room lifts with them.
My counselors are tearing up and hugging each other. Slowly, they turn their heads towards me. Someone starts to clap, and the rest follow. I’m brimming with positivity. All of my problems are forgotten. It’s like they never existed in the first place. All is right with the world. This feels so good.
Greg raises his hand to silence everyone. There’s a coy look in his eye. “That’s not all. I have one more surprise up my sleeve.”
“You do?” I whisper to him. Whatever it is is a surprise to me too.
Greg turns his back on us, and opens the supply closet. He wheels out something on a cart, covered by a white sheet. He pulls off the sheet with a flourish. “Ta-da!”
I study the slick, elegant machine in front of me. It’s an espresso machine with all the bells and whistles. Joyful shrieks rise up from the counselors. Greg encourages them to try it out. They quickly line up to wait their turn, and chat excitedly while they wait. I’m thrilled to see them so happy. This might be a frivolous pleasure, but they deserve it.
I pull Greg aside. “You’ve reached peak Oprah.”
“Everyone’s dreams are coming true,” he says. The espresso machine sputters and gurgles in the background. The gentle whir of frothing milk puts me at ease. Greg puts his hands on my shoulder, turning me to look at our happy counselors. “You’re doing it, Molly. Your vision is coming to life before your eyes.”
My eyes well up with tears. He’s right. Everything I’ve dreamed of is right here within my grasp. And I can’t deny that it’s all because of Sal.
“Have you dumped your landlord yet?” Greg asks, sardonically. “Because I’d really like to shake his hand. Let’s double date.”
My knee-jerk reaction is to reject this idea. But with all the good vibes in the air, I decide to try something different. Just once, I’m going to say ‘yes’ to what I really want.
“I’ll talk to Sal,” I say. “We’ll try to set something up.”
Greg looks impressed.
*
Something’s come over me. I’m planning to talk to Sal, and I’m not scared, or nervous, or tempted to run in the other direction. I walk confidently down the hall, clutching his invoice, and the check I’ve just written, then knock solidly on his door.
Sal’s slow, deliberate footsteps approach the door. My breath hitches in my throat. I remind myself not to be intimidated. He’s just a man.
The door swings open. He’s wearing a dark smile. Before he can say anything, I shove the invoice and check into his hands. He studies them for a moment.
“So,” he says, his smile deepening. “Looks like we’re square.”
I inhale deeply, finding the newly sprung reservoir of confidence inside of me. “Sal, I’m sorry for being rude to you the other night. I was just taken off guard.”
He stares at me with his intense eyes, not giving me any hint as to what he’s thinking. I push a curl out of my face nervously, and continue.
“I’m so, so grateful for Franco’s contribution. I really am. And I’m grateful to you, for whatever you did to inspire Franco to give so generously.”
Sal slides his arm towards me and takes my hand. My heart pounds in my chest. I look up at his handsome face, realizing that this isn’t a tiny crush anymore. It’s something more. Still, I’m not sure if he feels the same way. He tugs my arm, pulling me a bit closer to him. A part of me wishes we would go inside of his apartment to be alone.
“You deserve it,” Sal says, his gravelly voice floating to my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “Do me a favor, and stop thinking you don’t.”
“My counselors were thrilled. They’re getting raises. And so am I.”
Sal drops my hand. His jaw muscles flex as he clenches his teeth. “Then you won’t need to do anymore favors for me.”
I shake my head. “I won’t. But I’m wondering if you can do one for me.”
There’s a flash in his dark eyes. It stirs something deep in my belly. All I can hear is my breath reverberating in my ears.
“Oh?” he says, with a raised eyebrow.
“My partner at the center, Greg, he’s dying to meet you. To say thank you.” I clear my throat, reaching deep down to find my confidence. “Would you like to have dinner with us? Greg, me, and his boyfriend, Grant?”
“You can just say it, Molly. A double date.”
I bite my lip. “We could call it that.”
Sal chuckles softly, and lightly grazes my forearm with his fingertips. “Do we need to negotiate terms this time? How many kisses?”
“No,” I say, waving him off. “We can just…see what happens.” I cringe inwardly. What the hell did I just say?
But Sal seems pleased. He takes my hand and kisses it. “See what happens. I look forward to it.”