by Lara Swann
“Dad…this is Ash - Ash, my Dad, John.”
I stand off to the side between them, and I can almost feel the testosterone rising as they look at each other. Ash has heard and gleaned enough about Dad to dislike him, purely from the way he’s upset me at times, and Dad…well…I think he’s determined enough not to like Ash even without a reason - and I get the feeling Ash is going to give him plenty.
“Good to meet you.” Ash says, pleasantly enough, and offering a small smile.
He doesn’t raise his hand to try to shake Dad’s - I’m not sure Ash really does shaking hands anyway - which is probably a good thing, because I’d guess Dad might leave him hanging.
Dad doesn’t respond for a beat, but then he gives a reluctant nod and I just smile at Ash.
“Do you want to come through to the dining room? Dinner is almost ready, I think.” I offer.
“Sure.” Ash nods, his smile turning to me and becoming deeper.
I’m glad the hallway here is dark, because I’m sure what I see there is enough for my cheeks to turn red. I turn and lead the way back down the hallway, the space requiring Dad to turn around and walk back through in front of me. I want to take Ash’s hand, but that seems silly so I push the urge away.
I swear I feel a light caress on my neck as we walk though, the shudder of heat going through me telling me what it is before I can process it for myself. Then, as we’re ascending the stairs, there’s a much firmer touch on my ass and I twist my head around, half-amused and half-outraged.
‘Ash!’ I mouth at him, and he smirks back, raising his eyebrows.
I just roll my eyes, having to bite my lip to keep from laughing as Dad walks ahead, totally unaware - thank goodness.
Yeah. This is going to go well.
Ash behaves a little better the moment we emerge into our apartment, and we walk into the kitchen to introduce him to Mom. She turns around from where she’s bent over the stove with a smile.
“Hi there - I’m Maria - do go through now though, I’m almost done and then I’ll bring it all through.”
“Nice to meet you.” Ash repeats again, nodding as Mom gives him a quick wave, then turns back to the food.
“Do you want any help?” I ask, as Dad walks through the kitchen to the door to the dining room.
Mom shakes her head at me, and I can’t deny I’m a little relieved. I’d rather not leave Ash and Dad together by themselves just yet.
I give Ash a quick half-hug when Dad walks out the room, and then I do take his hand - if only to keep him from groping me in front of my parents - and lead him through to the dining room.
True to her word, we’re only just sat down together when Mom comes through with a steaming dish of chili.
“Ohh, that smells amazing.” Ash enthuses, totally genuinely, and she gives him a smile.
“Thank you - I didn’t know whether you liked rice or potatoes with it, so I did both—”
“Both is perfect.” He flashes the same cocky smile at her that first worked on me, and I have a moment of appreciation as she reddens a little, laughing slightly.
“Well, a healthy appetite is no bad thing—and I was just saying, there’s tortilla chips as well over there.”
“It all looks perfect.” He says again, grinning. “Thank you.”
“It’s no trouble.” She says, and I start thinking for a moment that maybe this will all be okay.
Then I glance over at the grim expression on Dad’s face, and I know that he isn’t enjoying Ash’s charm nearly as much.
Mom brings out the last of the food and we all sit down together. Dad pauses for a moment before saying grace, and while Ash doesn’t join in, he drops his head to mimic us at least.
Then we start passing food around to each other and filling our plates, Ash asking about things at the store today and Mom chattering easily in response. I can tell she finds him a little bit disconcerting - not least because of his direct nature and the sparkle in his eyes, I’m sure - but she’s also obviously making an effort to be warm and friendly, and I feel a burst of gratitude toward her.
For a few minutes, nothing else happens, and even though I’m a little too stressed to be particularly hungry, I eat my chili and try to relax.
At the first lull in the conversation, though, Dad finally speaks up - fixing Ash with a deliberate look.
“So…Ash…tell us about yourself, then.”
Ash raises an eyebrow at him, clearly not put off by the slightly foreboding tone. “What would you like to know?”
I can see that tick at the side of his jaw start up again, but he keeps his expression mild.
“Why…everything. Your family, your past, your morals, convictions…I mean, apparently you’ve been dating my daughter for months at least, and I have to say, we don’t know anything about you at all.”
Mom’s eyes skip to Dad and I can see her expression tightening up, but before either she or I can try to rescue that comment and all the potential insecurities he’s trying to focus in on, Ash just laughs. Actually laughs. Even Dad can’t keep the disbelief off his face.
“I guess that’s true.” He says, taking another bite of chili and giving Dad his usual roguish smile. He doesn’t blink at the dating me for months thing, which I’m grateful for as I belatedly realize we haven’t actually talked about what I’ve told my parents. “I’m not sure those are things I can just list off for you, though, you know. Those are things you get an impression about over time, and I doubt very much I could draw that picture for you.”
Dad blinks, slightly taken aback, and I watch as his eyes narrow. “I’m definitely starting to draw a picture…”
His tone is the same one I’ve heard a dozen times, that pointed comment, the kind that’s meant to make you second guess what you’re saying or doing and wonder what he’s thinking—but Ash just grins at him.
“Good! That’s what today is about, huh?” He smiles and casually reaches over to offer my Mom some more tortilla chips. I’m not sure she even noticed she’d finished hers.
He doesn’t seem at all concerned, and even I am a little bit shocked. I mean, I know what Ash is like and I didn’t exactly expect him to be intimidated, but…I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone act like this around Dad. It’s clearly infuriating him, too, and Ash doesn’t seem to notice. I’m pretty sure he does, but he definitely doesn’t give that impression.
“You seem particularly skilled at using a lot of words to say very little.” Dad finally follows up, his food seemingly forgotten as he focuses on Ash. “You can at least tell us what you do, surely - unless you don’t do anything at all? I thought there was something to do with…motorcycles, wasn’t there?”
He says motorcycles as if it’s a dirty word, his lip curling up with disdain as he does, and I can’t help noticing the way the insults are becoming less and less subtle the more Ash simply ignores them.
“Sure, we can talk shop if you like - my Mom just raised me not to talk business at the dinner table, that’s all.” He says easily, already halfway through his dinner. He seems to be the only one at this table who still has some kind of appetite. “I run a motorcycle shop - parts, repairs, bodywork, that kind of thing. I only just started it up this year, actually, and I’ve got to say, it’s really starting to go somewhere - already turning a profit, better than I expected by far. I think some of the deals I’ve been offering have raised the interest I sorely needed when I started—I guess you’d know all about that, right? You run a shop too, don’t you?”
I have to shove a forkful of chili into my mouth to stop the laugh that wants to escape from within me.
Did Ash really just compare his bike shop to my Dad’s store? Oh my goodness, that’s going to be impossible to swallow.
I don’t even look at Dad. I think if I do, I won’t be able to stop the laughter for anything.
“I run a store at the heart of the community here in Waverly.” Dad grinds out, every word clipped as he obviously tries to make it clear how different
that is from Ash’s bike shop.
“Yeah, exactly!” Ash ignores that entirely, his sudden enthusiasm steamrolling over Dad’s point. “So you know what I mean. Actually, this is really useful - can I ask what sort of advertising structure you’ve been using, and also…”
Somehow, Ash manages to twist Dad’s conversation to the point that he’s trapped talking about business strategies and intricate details - and even though Dad tries valiantly to undermine Ash within each of those topics, the scope for that gets smaller and smaller.
I don’t look over at Mom. I have no idea what she thinks, but I know I’m suddenly enjoying this meal immensely. I don’t think Dad has ever tried to deal with someone so direct and totally impervious to his opinion of them - as he said, he’s enjoyed being at the heart of the community for years. That has a certain kind of status to it. I guess it’s just too bad Ash has never even heard of that community.
By the time Dad manages to wrest himself out of the business conversation, he’s obviously fuming and outraged by this all - his glare in Ash’s direction getting more intense with every moment - and just as I’m sure he’s about ready to explode, Mom interrupts brightly with the suggestion of dessert.
I look over at her half-finished plate of food, Dad’s barely touched dish and my own fork full of food—
“That sounds wonderful, thank you.” Ash responds, in an equally lively tone, and I notice he’s the only one with a completely clean plate. “Let me help you take all this back to the kitchen.”
Just like that, they gather everything together and Ash starts chatting to my Mom as they make their way between the two rooms. I’m not sure what he says to her, but within moments she’s blushing again, and it makes me smile to see how infallible his charm really is - if you’re a woman anyway, I guess.
I don’t know whether Dad is relieved not to be caught up in an inane conversation that’s not going his way anymore, or infuriated that Ash ended it so abruptly. Probably both. He’s too distracted to object to the idea of not getting to finish his main course, anyway, and if I’m honest I’m not really sure he’s hungry.
By the time Mom’s famous chocolate cake is served out - everyone but Ash taking noticeably small slices - he seems to have recuperated a little, and I can read the grim determination in his expression. My stomach churns slightly, and I’m thankful for not taking too much cake as he looks between Ash and I deliberately.
“So…you intend to raise this baby…together?” His tone makes it obvious what he thinks of that idea, but just like Ash, for once I manage to ignore it.
Ash’s eyes find mine as I nod, and I can see the warmth there. If we weren’t sat at diagonally opposite sides of the table, I think he’d try to reach over and take my hand.
“Yes.” He says, and for the first time this meal some of the casual cockiness in his voice is replaced by the soft warmth I see in him all the time. He glances back at my father, and I’m surprised at his easy honesty. “It was a surprise, when we found out, but it’s quickly become the best thing that’s ever happened to me—to both of us.”
His gaze finds mine again, and even though I know the way he’s speaking for me is irritating Dad, it makes me happy. I smile back at him, unable to help the simple happiness that he brings out of me.
“Mm.” Dad makes a non-committal noise, pinning his gaze on Ash. I don’t think he’s even realized there’s a slice of cake untouched in front of him. “Are you going to do what’s right by her and get married, then?”
I freeze, stunned.
Dad!
I shouldn’t have been surprised, obviously, but somehow I am. I know part of the reason he’s saying it is just to scare Ash off - he doesn’t exactly give the impression of being the kind of guy to want to settle down - but I can’t help the momentary fear that rocks through me that maybe it will work. We’re nowhere near that—
“Maybe I will.” He says, startling me more than Dad’s question ever could have. He holds Dad’s gaze easily, but the way he answers that question doesn’t sound…casual. Not like all his other easy irreverence. No, it sounds like there’s far more in there instead.
Dad stares at him in shock, clearly as surprised as me, and I can almost see his eyes bulging out of his head as he looks back at Ash. I suddenly get the impression that - for all his insistence about marriage being so important - he’s suddenly alarmed at the idea of Ash as a son-in-law.
“That’s not something you should be so casual about.” Dad snaps at him, finally loosing the last remnants of the cool control I always thought he could maintain through fire or flood or natural disaster.
“It’s not. I can promise you that.” He says, with enough weight in his words to make me shudder, and as I watch the expression that passes through his eyes, I start re-evaluating my assessment of the intensity of Dad’s looks. Right now, they have nothing on Ash. And then - without anything further, while Dad just stares at him - he turns simply back to my Mom. “This cake is amazing, Maria. You’ve got to let me have the recipe - I know my Mom would love it.”
Mom takes the invitation easily enough, and starts asking about his Mom, even though her eyes keep flicking between the two men. I’m not sure she’s seen anything like this either.
I’m just sit there, totally taken aback as I struggle to process everything he just said about marriage.
Marriage!
We haven’t talked about that…that’s not in our plan…not right now…but…the way he looked!
Dad doesn’t seem to be faring any better, sitting and stewing in his total frustration. As we finish what we’re ever going to be able to of the food, I start getting the feeling he’s just waiting for all this to be over.
I have a good idea what will probably happen then, but right now I don’t care. I’m too torn between complete admiration for Ash and total astonishment at the things he’s said.
We should talk about that. Unless he just said it to provoke Dad…but he didn’t sound like he did…and…ohh, God help me.
When the mostly-awkward dinner finally draws to a close, it’s Mom that signals the end of it all.
“Well, it’s been lovely to meet you, Ash.” She says, standing up, and he follows, taking the hint.
“Thank you for inviting me.” He says, smiling back at her.
Neither of them look at Dad for an acknowledgment that clearly isn’t going to come, and Mom gestures to me.
“Chloe, why don’t you show Ash out? I need to get started on all of this.”
She gestures to the dishes spread over the table and Ash raises an eyebrow. “Do you want some help?”
“No, no, don’t be silly.” She shakes her head. “Go on, you two.”
I take the invitation to get out from under Dad’s glare immediately, taking Ash’s hand and almost dragging him from the room, the idea of a few moments alone thrilling me - especially after all of that.
As if Dad can sense exactly what I’m thinking, he stands up abruptly. “I’ll come too.”
I glance back over my shoulder, my heart dropping, but I don’t object. The mood he’s in right now, that wouldn’t be a good idea. We head back downstairs without saying anything, Dad following behind, and when Ash opens the door and turns to say goodbye, I can feel the intensity of his eyes on us.
I almost lean in for a kiss anyway - and I feel it hanging there between Ash and I - before Ash gives me a smile and simply raises his hand to my cheek, his thumb stroking along my lips in a way Dad can’t see from where he is.
“I’ll see you soon.” He murmurs. The words are simple enough, but what’s in them has heat breaking out all over me. I hold his gaze like I’m condemned and looking for salvation, but I force myself to just nod.
“Thank you for coming.” I say quietly, and he quirks that familiar smirk at me.
“Anytime, Chloe.” Then his eyes flick up to Dad, his expression becoming that casual mask again. “It was nice to meet you, John.”
He gives a small wave, then turns to go wi
thout waiting for a response. I sigh and almost sag against the door frame, watching him go as Dad turns around and heads back upstairs. I almost try to call Ash back for that kiss we didn’t have, but I know that wouldn’t end well.
Soon.
After tonight, there’s nothing that can stop me from visiting him tomorrow.
I return back upstairs to Mom standing over the sink and Dad leaning against a counter, clutching a glass of whiskey and scowling off to the side. He seems to be drinking more these days.
As soon as I enter, he turns to me, eyes flashing.
“Well, I can see where your sense of respect went! With that…that…man…as an influence—”
“John…” Mom tries to say, soothingly, but I can see she’s more than a little exhausted from the evening already.
“Don’t John me.” He snaps at her, knocking the whiskey back. “You didn’t have to put up with the way he spoke to me. The insolence and arrogance. This is the man who you think will be a good father to your kid?”
He turns back to me with the latter and I lean against the doorway, for once feeling relatively calm in the face of Dad’s ire.
“Yes.” I say simply. “He will be—he is.”
“I can see how you were tempted, Chloe, oh yes I can, how he managed to take something you should have been guarding far more closely than—”
“Dad!”
My face twists in disgust and I wonder how many whiskeys he’s gone through in the short space of time I was watching after Ash. I absolutely refuse to talk about that with him.
He lets out a loud harrumph, but seems to realize the complete impropriety of that comment, because he at least changes tack.
“But that sort of guy…that’s no good for you, Chloe, even if he is the father of your child. You can’t trust someone like him—difficult—manipulative—charming. Oh, he looks and sounds clever, but that’s not the kind of cleverness you want in your life. That’s the kind of man who will leave you heart-broken and devastated, just when you need him most—”