Page 27 of Curious Hearts (The Healing Hearts #2)
“What happens if you don’t get the grant?” Jessica asked, her brow forming tiny lines of concern.
Ali hesitated, aware of how precarious the foundation’s finances were. How precarious her personal finances were most of the time. “We scale back. Try to keep a few core programs running in the hope we can secure alternative funding.”
“Ali is too modest,” Yaya interrupted. “She works for nothing sometimes. Helping animals no one wants, children who are afraid. The money people, they don’t always understand the value in this.”
“Not all money people,” Jessica said quietly. “Some of us understand perfectly well.”
Their eyes met across the table, and Ali saw something shift in Jessica’s expression—a determination that hadn’t been there before.
“Tell me more about this grant,” Jessica said, her attention returning to Fenna. “Who makes the final decision?”
“It’s a committee,” Fenna explained. “Hospital administration, board members, some practitioners like me, although I won’t get a vote because I’m Ali’s internal sponsor. Dr. Monahan chairs it.”
“Is he supportive of alternative therapies?” Jessica asked, her analytical mind clearly at work.
Fenna grimaced. “Let’s just say he’s more interested in treatments that come with pharmaceutical backing and corporate sponsorships.”
“Politics.” Jessica nodded, understanding immediately.
The conversation shifted when Usha flung a spoonful of mashed potatoes that landed with impressive accuracy on Kristi’s cheek, drawing laughter from around the table. As dinner wound down, Yaya insisted they move to the living room for dessert and coffee.
“Ali, help me in the kitchen,” Yaya commanded, leaving no room for argument.
In the kitchen, as they arranged flan on small plates, Yaya spoke low and fast. “This woman, she has a shell. A hard shell like the turtle. But I see how she looks at you.”
Ali paused in her task. “What do you think, Yaya? Really?”
The older woman considered this, her weathered hands still working efficiently. “I think her heart is good but guarded. She has learned to protect herself, like you.” Yaya tapped Ali’s chest. “But she looks at you the way my Fernando looked at me. Like you are the sun after a long winter.”
“It’s still new,” Ali cautioned. “We’re still sort of figuring everything out.”
“Some things do not need figuring. They need feeling.” Yaya picked up two plates. “She fits, Ali. Not like a puzzle that matches just so, but like a good chair that becomes more comfortable with time.”
When they returned to the living room, they found Jessica on the floor with the twins, who had somehow convinced her to join their play. Flor was fascinated by Jessica’s curls, patting them with chubby hands while Jessica maintained her composure with impressive patience.
“Sorry,” Fenna said, moving to extract her daughter. “They’re in a grabby phase.”
“It’s fine,” Jessica assured her, helping Flor stand on wobbling legs. “She has good taste. These curls take a lot of maintenance.”
“Do you want kids?” Kristi asked.
“Kristi!” Ali said, taking in Jessica’s wide-eyed expression.
“I wasn’t asking if she wanted kids with you… just generally,” Kristi said, holding up her hands in defense.
Jessica focused on Flor for a second before answering. “I have cousins much younger than me, and I learned early that the key to surviving family gatherings was making allies of the smallest members.”
Ali handed Jessica a plate of flan, desperate to change the direction of the conversation and grateful for Jessica’s side-stepping answer.
There had never been any doubt she’d wanted children, at least when she was younger, but sometimes life took you on a different road to the one you’d planned, and she’d finally resigned herself to animals being her surrogate children.
But watching Jessica play with the twins…
No. She wouldn’t allow herself to go there.
After dessert, as the evening wound down, Yaya pulled Jessica aside for what appeared to be a serious conversation. Ali watched from across the room as Jessica listened intently, nodding occasionally, her expression moving from surprise to something softer, more vulnerable.
When it was time to leave, Yaya embraced Jessica with the same fierce affection she showed Ali. “You come back soon,” she insisted. “Next time you help cook, yes? I teach you my special rice.”
“I’d like that,” Jessica replied, and Ali could tell by the way she looked at the old woman she was being sincere.
In the car, heading back toward the Victorian, Jessica was quieter than usual, reflective. Ali glanced at her, wondering what Yaya had said in their private conversation.
“That was Yaya in full force,” she said. “And you survived!”
Jessica smiled, watching the streetlights pass. “She’s remarkable. They all are. You’re lucky to have them.”
“I know,” Ali agreed. “They’ve really been there for me over the last couple of years.
Kristi and Fenna are just the best, and they’re so lucky…
with everything they have…” Her voice trailed off as she shook away too many thoughts, too many hopes, all happening too soon.
She swallowed down the emotion and moved to safer ground.
“And Yaya, well she’s the grandmother I never had. ”
“No grandparents?’ Jessica asked.
Ali shrugged. “Not to speak of. My mother’s parents never really liked my dad, so we weren’t close, and they died years ago. They were more free-spirited than my dad would have liked. I think I might have inherited some of their genes.” She gave a self-conscious laugh.
“And your dad’s parents?”
‘My dad lost his mom when he was ten, and his dad was army too, so his grandparents raised him. I met my grandfather twice, I think. He wasn’t a warm man.” She scrunched her face at the memory. “I suppose that’s why I’m a little envious of what Kristi and Fenna have.”
They sat for a few moments, the silence in the car comfortable, before curiosity got the better of her.
“What did Yaya say to you? At the end?”
“That’s confidential grandmother-girlfriend intelligence,” Jessica replied with a small smile. “But I can tell you she offered to teach me to make her flan if I promised not to break your heart.”
Ali’s pulse quickened at “girlfriend”—the first time either of them had used that label.
“And what did you say?” Ali asked, trying to keep her voice light.
“I told her I’d try my best,” Jessica answered, her tone suddenly serious. “On both counts.”
Jessica reached over and took her hand, her thumb tracing circles on Ali’s skin.
“I want to help with the foundation’s grant,” she said. “I have contacts who might be able to provide alternative funding if the hospital falls through.”
“Jessica, you don’t have to?—”
“I know I don’t but if I can help,” she interrupted. “What you’re doing matters. And besides,” she added with a hint of her professional confidence, “securing sustainable funding is literally what I do for a living.”
Ali felt a swell of gratitude, mixed with a wave of unease she couldn’t quite place. “That’s... thank you. But let’s see what happens with the current application first.”
Jessica nodded, bringing Ali’s hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Whatever you want. But the offer stands.”
As they pulled into the driveway of the Victorian, Ali couldn’t help but reflect on how seamlessly their lives seemed to be intertwining—Jessica fitting into her world in ways Ali hadn’t expected. It was exciting but at the same time, if she was honest with herself, a little frightening.
“You know,” Jessica said as they walked to the front door, Waffle trotting ahead, “I think the cats have missed you today. Even Empress was looking expectantly at the door this afternoon.”
“Just the cats?” Ali teased, unlocking the door with the key Jessica had given her.
Jessica pulled her close as they stepped inside, pressing Ali against the closed door. “Not just the cats,” she murmured, her mouth finding Ali’s with renewed hunger. “I believe I made you a promise about after dinner.”
Ali’s body responded instantly, need rising. “I thought you might have forgotten.”
“I never forget my promises,” Jessica said, her voice dropping to that commanding tone that made Ali’s knees weak. “Especially ones that involve you.”
As Jessica led her upstairs, Ali pushed aside the nagging worry at the back of her mind—the sense that everything was moving so fast, falling into place too easily.