The stucco apartments were old but nice. Built in the fifties, they had been completely restored about ten years ago, and located in the heart of downtown, they were on prime real estate. Marley parked in the visitor section then tried Ashton’s number once more on her cell phone. Still no answer. This was deeply troubling. She spotted Ashton’s little car, a red MINI Cooper, in his numbered parking space. Unless he was on his bike or on foot, he was probably home. She slowly climbed the wrought-iron stairs and knocked on the heavy wooden door. Bracing herself, she waited. When there was no answer, she knocked again, louder this time.
“Ashton,” she called out, “it’s your mother. Please open up!” Still there was no answer. She pounded on the window, continuing to call loudly.
“Something wrong?” asked a young woman with a small dog.
“I’m worried about my son,” Marley confessed. “I’ve been trying to reach Ashton for days, and he’s just not—”
“Ashton is your son?”
Marley nodded eagerly. “Do you know him?”
“Yes. He’s really bummed about Leo.”
“What happened to Leo?” Marley asked.
“Oh, you haven’t heard?”
“What?” demanded Marley.
“Leo left Ashton for someone else.”
“Oh dear.” Marley turned back to the door, pounding even more loudly now. “Ashton! Open the door!”
“Ashton’s really taking it hard,” the girl continued. “Yesterday I invited him to come over for dinner with some friends and he refused.”
Marley turned back to the girl. “So you saw him yesterday?”
She nodded with a grim expression. “He didn’t seem like himself, though.”
Marley pounded once more. “Ashton Phelps, you come and open this door, or I’ll get the manager to let me in!”
“Want me to call the manager for you?” the girl offered.
“Yes,” Marley said firmly. “I would appreciate that.”
The girl got on her phone, but before she reached the manager, Marley heard the dead bolt click, and the door cracked open. “Ashton!” Marley exclaimed as she pushed her way into the dim apartment. She threw her arms around him and held him tight. “You’re okay!” Tears of relief filled her eyes.
“Actually I’m not okay,” he admitted when she finally let him go.
She reached up and touched his cheek. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. “Oh, Ashton,” she said gently. “I’m so sorry to hear about you and Leo. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to tell you.” He turned and walked away from her. “But you were busy making Barbie clothes.”
She followed him into the kitchen, surprised to see dirty dishes piled up in the sink and a saucepan containing something brown and smelly sitting on the stove. The whole apartment seemed to be a mess. The only times she had been here before, all had been tidy and pristine. “I’m never too busy to talk to you, Ashton. You know that.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “I can tell you’re hurting. Do you want to talk about it?”
With his back still to her, he shrugged like he used to do as a boy. “I don’t know. Not much to talk about.”
“How about if you clean up a bit and we’ll go get a bite to eat?” she suggested.
He looked down at his stained T-shirt and wrinkled pajama bottoms and frowned. “Yeah, I guess I could do that.”
While he showered and changed clothes, Marley attacked the kitchen with vigor. She rinsed the dishes, loaded the dishwasher, dumped what appeared to be some kind of Asian sauce into the garbage disposal, and wiped down all the surfaces.
“Oh, Mom.” Ashton frowned. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“I know, but I guess that’s just how some moms work.” She made a weak smile. “You look like you’re ready to go.”
He shrugged again. “I guess so.”
“Well, I’m starving.” She linked her arm in his. “How about if we walk to that little deli around the corner?”
He didn’t argue, so she simply took the lead, and before long they were seated at the deli. As they waited for their soup and sandwiches to arrive, she gently prodded him to tell her about what had happened between him and Leo. Gay or straight didn’t matter, apparently—it was the same old worn-out story. Someone falls out of love with one person and into love with another, and the one left behind suffers the agony of a broken heart.
“I know you might find this hard to believe right now,” she said gently, “but it will get better in time.”
He groaned as he ran a hand through his wavy brown hair.
“It really will.”
“Man, when I think of all the times Dad hurt you, and the way you put up with it … it used to kind of blow my mind.”
She frowned. “Yeah, me, too.”
“Except that now I think I’m starting to get it.”
“How so?”
He shook his head. “If Leo came back and apologized, I’d probably take him back.”
“Oh.”
“Kind of how you’d do with Dad.”
“The reason I put up with your dad was for you, Ashton. I had this crazy idea that a boy needed his father, but the truth is, if I could do it all over again, I’d do it differently.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.” She nodded vigorously. “It wouldn’t have been easy. Divorce is always hard on kids. But knowing what I know now, I would’ve ended it with your father a whole lot sooner.”
For a while they both ate quietly. Marley was relieved that Ashton was actually eating. He admitted that he hadn’t eaten in days, and he looked gaunt and pale, with dark shadows beneath his eyes.
“It’s just such a mess, Mom,” he said as he pushed his soup bowl away.
“What do you mean?”
“Life. I mean my life.”
“How is it a mess?”
“Well, for one thing, you know that Leo and I were business partners. And there’s the apartment lease. And, well, it’s just such a mess trying to figure it all out.” He rubbed his temples. “It literally makes my head hurt.”
“You don’t have to figure it all out at once, do you?”
He shrugged.
“What you need to do is take care of yourself. You need to get up every morning, take a shower, eat a good breakfast, then put one foot in front of the other.”
“Easier said than done.”
“I know.” She nodded. “There’s something else you need too, Ashton.”
He looked slightly curious. “What?”
“You need God in your life.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah right.”
“I’m serious.”
He faked a laugh. “Get real, Mom.”
“I am getting real.” She told him she had started praying to God, and God was making a difference in her life. “It’s hard to explain, but it is very real, Ashton. I feel more complete, more centered, more on track now than I have ever felt in my life. Even my art seems to be working.”
“That’s great. For you.”
“It would be great for you, too, Ashton.”
His expression grew hard. “Maybe you haven’t heard yet, Mom, but God hates homosexuals.”
“Oh, that’s not—”
“Hey, we hear it all the time. We gays are disgusting, repulsive, an aberration, a blight on this fine country, and God would rather strike us dead than—”
“That is not true, Ashton.”
“Says who?”
“Says me. And other Christian people too.” Okay, she could actually only think of one other person—Fran. But Doris was coming around, and maybe the other Lindas. Surely they would love Ashton too.
“Nice try, Mom, but I’m not buying.”
/> “Look, Ashton, I’m sorry for what you might’ve heard—that God hates homosexuals—but I know that’s not true. That’s just some narrow-minded, judgmental people trying to speak for God. I’m sure God does not appreciate it. And it seems unfair that you would listen to some mean-spirited person’s take on God rather than allowing God to speak for himself.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I might be overstating it a bit.”
“I might not exactly be an expert on all of this, but I just started reading the Bible, and one of my favorite Scriptures says that God loved the whole world, meaning every single person in the world. He loved us so much that he sent his son so that everyone could have a chance to believe.”
Ashton nodded, and Marley could tell he was losing interest.
“Okay, my sermon is over.” She wiped her mouth with her napkin and thought for a moment. “I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Why don’t you come home with me for a few days? It’s Thanksgiving this week, and I was hoping you and—well, that you could come. You haven’t seen my little beach bungalow yet.”
“I don’t know.”
She stood now, tugging him up to his feet. “Don’t you try to use work for an excuse, Ashton. Since no one’s been answering the phone in the drum shop, my guess is that no one’s been going in to work either. Right?”
Again with the shrug. “It’s just a mess. My life is one great big mess.”
“So why not come spend the week with me? It certainly can’t mess things up any worse, can it?”
“What am I going to do at your house, Mom?”
“I don’t know. Walk the beach, eat some homemade food, meet my friends.”
His dark brows knitted together, forming the expression he wore as a little boy when trying to figure out something much too difficult for him to understand.
“Come on,” she urged him as they walked back to the apartment. “Just throw some things in a bag and we’ll be on our way.”
“But what if …”
“What?” She turned to peer into his face.
His mouth twisted to one side. “What if Leo comes back to the apartment, you know, looking for me?”
She held up her hands. “So? What if he did?”
“He might be worried, you know, to find me gone.”
She smiled. “So let him worry.”
Ashton nodded. “Yeah. Why not?”
As Marley drove them back toward the coast, Ashton slept. Or at least he appeared to be sleeping. It was possible he was simply trying to avoid having a conversation with her, but Marley didn’t mind. Something about her boy—yes, a grown man—riding quietly next to her was strangely comforting. Once again, as she drove, she prayed. This time it was not the frantic, desperate kind of praying she’d done on her way to Ashton’s apartment. Now her prayer was simple and concise: God, please help Ashton to find himself, and help him to find you. Amen.
Chapter 22
CAROLINE
“I’m going to try to make it for the funeral,” Mitch assured Caroline for about the third time.
“I’ll understand if you don’t,” she told him.
“I want to be there for you.”
“I know.” She sighed as she glanced out the window overlooking the street. Michael hadn’t made an appearance since yesterday, but she would be surprised if he didn’t. He wasn’t one to give up easily.
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay.” She let the curtains fall closed again. Mitch didn’t know anything about Michael. As badly as she wanted Mitch to make it in time for the funeral, she was not eager to have him meet her volatile brother. She was getting seriously worried that Michael might say or do something at the service tomorrow, something that would embarrass them all. For her mother’s sake she hoped she was wrong.
Caroline had spent most of Saturday night going through the boxes of things she’d salvaged from her parents’ home. Her goal was to gather some items she thought Michael might actually appreciate, if that was possible. Janie had said she was wasting her time, but Caroline’s conscience had been nagging her. She was determined to do all she could to mend her bridges with her brother—for her mother’s sake. When Michael and Caroline were kids, their mom had blatantly favored Michael, and their dad had made no secret over preferring Caroline. As dysfunctional as their family was, the division of favor had worked for a while.
When Michael turned into a rebellious teen, he severely tested their mother’s affections, and their father sometimes acted like he wanted to kill his surly son. However, when Michael was drafted and sent to Vietnam, things changed. Their father started drinking more and staying out later. Meanwhile their mother became obsessed over Michael’s welfare. Constantly writing letters and sending care packages, she watched the nightly news with fear and trembling. When Michael returned home in one piece, she had nearly suffocated him with her attention. Her reward for this was simply more bad behavior and disappearing acts. Michael would come and go, never accounting for himself. When he came, he needed money. When he left, something from the house was always missing.
“You said that Michael already got all of your dad’s guns and sporting goods,” Janie had reminded Caroline, “not to mention all the insurance money he managed to swindle from your mother. I don’t see why you think you owe him anything now.”
“It’s complicated,” Caroline had told her. And it was.
“As your attorney I would recommend that we freeze all assets for now,” Janie had advised. “Let some time pass. If Michael is as determined as you think, let him get his own legal counsel and have at it, not that it will do him any good. I’ve looked over everything and don’t see that Michael can contest anything. But perhaps things will cool off in time.”
Caroline had a hard time imagining Michael ever cooling off. For her mother’s sake Caroline wanted to do all she could to smooth this thing over now. If she was a fool for her efforts, so be it.
She made dozens of photocopies of old family photos, mostly snapshots her mother had taken on holidays or birthdays. Caroline arranged them chronologically as best she could and placed them in a nice photo album. Besides that, she boxed up some old things of her father’s—a few family items that she wasn’t emotionally attached to—and packed them in her father’s old army trunk. It wasn’t much, but other than the house and her mother’s small insurance policy, it was all they had. Their family had never had much. It was what it was.
While going through these old things, Caroline brought out her mother’s old Bible, the one she’d fetched from the charred bedroom. To her surprised delight she had found little notes penciled in on the margins of some of the pages. It seemed that before Alzheimer’s set in, her mother had taken her Bible quite seriously. As much as Caroline wanted to keep this Bible, she felt her mother would prefer it go to Michael. It was the final item Caroline placed in the trunk. She hoped Michael would appreciate it. If not, well, Caroline did not want to know.
The big question now was how and when to get this trunk to Michael without creating an even bigger problem. She suspected that he was staying at the house in spite of its condition. How he could stand the stench of smoke was beyond her, but she and her friends had seen his truck parked there at all hours.
“Let me deal with Michael,” Janie had told Caroline last night. “I will explain to him in legal terms that the house belongs to you. If he has any questions, he can direct them to me.”
“Good luck with that.” Caroline hated to imagine how Michael would respond to that piece of information.
“I don’t mind being the fall guy,” Janie had assured her, and Caroline hadn’t argued. In fact, as she closed the army trunk, she was halfway tempted to ask Janie to deliver this to Michael as well. Was she being a chicken? Well, yes. But, as they used to say as kids, better to be a smart
chicken than a dead duck.
Caroline picked up her phone and called Janie. “Hey, are you terribly busy?” she asked cheerfully.
“Not really.” But Janie’s voice had a hard edge on it, like maybe she really didn’t want to be bothered.
“Are you okay?”
“Depends on how you define okay.”
Caroline was getting worried. “What’s going on?”
Janie let out a long, exasperated-sounding sigh. “I wish I knew.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, Caroline, I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Huh?”
“I know, it sounds silly.” Janie explained how she’d gotten a bunch of things for Victor’s boat. Donna had confronted her there and used some harsh words. “Now all the things I thought I’d left on his boat are gone.”
“What?” Caroline was trying to wrap her head around this. “How could they be gone?”
“Precisely what I’m wondering. But after I called Victor, explaining about the showdown and how Donna snatched my key, he went down there to check on the boat, to make sure it was locked up and all.”
“And he said the things were gone?”
“Yes. He called me from the boat and said that everything looked perfectly normal, except that none of the things I’d told him about were there. Honestly, for a moment I wondered if I was losing it. So I told him about getting those things at Bonnie’s shop, and how they weren’t cheap, and that it was upsetting to hear they were missing.”
“Do you think Donna took them?” Even as Caroline said this, it sounded preposterous. As far as Caroline could see, Donna was a nice, rational, thoughtful person. Why would she steal anything from anyone?
“I just don’t know. I mean she was there. We had that weird conversation. And now, according to Victor, everything I put on his boat is not there.” Janie sighed. “It sounds crazy.”
“Maybe someone broke onto Victor’s boat,” Caroline suggested. “There are some shady characters around the wharf at night sometimes.”
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