by JA Huss
She ignores me.
“Ashleigh, where are you going? And for that matter, where the hell did you come from?” I wish I had looked at her car closer, to see the plates. But either I was too distracted by my own circumstances or the snow was covering it up, so I never noticed.
She cuddles the baby and whispers in her ear for a few seconds and then she looks up at me with that smile she smiles when she’s being overly polite. “Look, I understand you might be freaked out about my little… emotional display… but I’m fine. OK? I’m fine. I’m just…” She stops and takes a deep breath. “Exhausted. I’m tired. I’m running on no sleep, I’m stressed, I’m hungry, I’m desperately in need of a shower, I smell like spit-up, and that stupid toy means a lot to me. OK?” She stares at me, calm but frowning.
I wait for her to look away before I speak and bring her attention back to me. “Got it. Now, answer my questions.”
“Or what?” she challenges.
“Or nothing. You can choose not to answer, it’s your decision. But if you refuse, I’m going to call Jason, get your plate number, hack into every fucking DMV in the US, and figure out who the fuck you are.”
She snorts out a laugh. “Good luck with that.”
“I’ll let that pass, since you don’t know who I am. And I would have to go back to Denver and grab my own laptop to make sure the connection is secure. I’ll take you with me, by the way. So if you think I’m gonna leave you here alone, you’re wrong. And then I’ll fucking get that data right in front of you. Or I can just call up Mrs. fucking Pearson and have her tell you some more stories about how I fucked with the virtual lives of anyone who crossed me as a teenager.” I wait a few beats as she tries to decide if I’m telling the truth. “But either way, it’s a two-hour drive to Denver, tops. I’ll know who you are in three hours or less, because I already have code written for the DMV search. I can do that shit with my eyes closed.”
Now she gets angry and plucks the baby from her breast, making her squeal, as clearly five minutes of feeding is not enough. She starts to get up and I grab her by the waist and force her to stay. “Let go,” she snarls over the baby’s wails.
“No.” I say calmly. “Feed her, Ashleigh. And tell me which way you’d like to do this. Answer my question, or I call Jason and figure out who you are myself.”
“Fine,” she says as she positions the baby over her breast again. “I’m coming from Texas and going to LA.”
She said she was a Stars fan, so that makes sense. But then again… “That makes no sense. Why not just go across New Mexico and into Arizona? Why come north?”
She bites her lip and scrunches up her face as she thinks. Is this a lying pause? Ronin would know, but I’m not as good at this lie-detector shit as he is, so I’m not sure. “I just needed more time. That’s all.” She looks me in the eye and repeats it. “I just wasn’t ready to face things yet, I just wanted a little more time, so I took the scenic route.”
I sit back and laugh. “The scenic route? Through the fucking Rocky Mountains in the dead of winter? Are you crazy?”
“I didn’t know it was so…”
“Cold? Dangerous? Wild? It’s the fucking mountains!”
“I get it now, obviously. But I’m more of a beach person, so I didn’t understand it might be dangerous.”
“What part of LA are you going to?” She might actually be from Texas, but I think her destination is a lie. She heard me tell my mother I was driving to LA on the phone. I think she’s just telling me what I want to hear.
“Westwood. I’m going to Westwood. Satisfied?” she asks with a sneer.
“Hardly. Why are you going there? What’s in LA?”
She takes a deep breath like she’s about to say something important, and then she looks me in the eye. “Tell me why you’re going to LA and then I’ll tell you why I’m going.”
I smile. “You think that’s cute?”
“I think you’re running away. At least I’m running to something.”
Ouch. “Tell me why right now, or I get the car warmed up for a nice drive to Denver.”
She shakes her head and tries to stop the tears, but they roll down her face anyway. A few seconds later I realize she’s holding her breath to stop the sobs, but it starts coming out in ugly gasps.
I sigh and lean back into the uncomfortable modern piece-of-shit couch. “OK, stop. Please.” She doesn’t stop and the baby starts fussing. “Ashleigh—”
“I need to talk to him one more time, OK?” She looks up at me and she is a fucking mess—her eyes are wild and bloodshot, her face is all contorted as she tries to hold it together but simply fails, her skin is pale like she hasn’t slept in weeks, and that coupled with the crying baby makes her look like some poor teen mom from a bad MTV reality show. “Is that a good enough answer for you? I just need to talk to him one more time.” And then she gets up and bolts towards the bedroom before I can grab her.
Chapter Fifteen
I sit in the living room listening to Ashleigh as she concentrates on the baby in the bedroom. She calms her down pretty fast, but her own loud erratic breathing is hard to miss. I lean over and hold my head in my hands as I think this through.
She’s probably insane. Total nutjob. She might be stalking her ex, who knows.
I sit like this for a while, just thinking, and then I hear her playing games in there. “Peek-a-boo.”
The baby squeals, but not in a bad way. She’s laughing.
Ashleigh says it again. More squealing laughter—and then Ash is laughing too. Hell, even I smile.
OK, maybe she’s not nuts. She’s just sad. She has a new baby. The father—for whatever reason—is gone. That’s gotta hurt. She’s got herself into some whackjob of a road trip and maybe she really is going to LA. Maybe she can save whatever it is she’s missing right now. If I were her, wouldn’t I try?
I definitely would. Yeah. I’d give it a shot.
I scrub my hands down my face, get up, and get to the open bedroom door just in time to see the baby laugh. That’s a cure for just about anything. Ashleigh looks a thousand times better already, just because she’s smiling. They’re lying down on the bed. She leans over the baby, her long hair falling over to cover her face. And then they giggle like girls. I reach into my pocket and take a phone picture of them because it’s sorta cute.
The shutter sound gives me away and Ash sits up real fast. “Look,” she says with a hitch in her breath from crying. “I’m sorry, I’m just hormonal, OK? I can’t help it. I miss him.” She has to stop and pull it together here, but she manages and that makes me feel better. She’s just sad.
“I understand, Ashleigh, I do. But if you really are going to LA and not lying to me, then I’m gonna have to take you with me. I’ll have your car delivered to wherever you want when it’s done. But I can’t leave you here alone. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
I half expect a little fight over my perceived opinion of her state of mind, but she just nods. “That is where I’m going, Ford. So thank you. And for what it’s worth, I realize it’s over. That life is over. I get it.” She stops to wait for a response, so I give her a nod. “It’s over,” she says again, trying to talk herself into it. “It’s over. And I just have to accept it.” For a second I think she’s about to cry again but she swallows hard and wipes the tears. “And once I talk to him, I swear, I’ll let it go.” It takes her a few seconds to meet my gaze, but she does it. “I’ll let him go, I just have so much to say.” Her chin starts quivering and shit, it sorta tugs at my heart, all this sadness from her.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
She shakes her head. “No, I can’t. I just can’t. I would, but it’s—”
“OK. That’s OK. But are you two still together? Because to me, it doesn’t look like it’s over.”
She sniffs and looks over at the baby. “It’s over.”
“You just have to have your say, that’s all?”
She nods. “Yes, I just have
so much to say to him. I just need to say it to him, ya know?”
“OK.” I can deal with this. She just needs closure. It’s totally normal to take some time to figure things out after a big change. I’m no relationship expert, I’ve never actually had a relationship, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand the psychology of a one-sided breakup. “Let’s go get some breakfast. You hungry?” She nods. “I’ll take a shower downstairs so you can use the bathroom up here. If you need me to watch the baby so you can relax a little, I will.”
“No,” she says softly. “I got it. I’m OK, I swear. I just needed to vent. I feel better.” And then she looks up at me and smiles. “But thank you for offering.”
I pull into Jason’s parking lot half expecting the place to be closed, but one bay is open and his brother Jimmy is pulling in a car as I park. “Stay here,” I tell Ashleigh. “I’ll grab your stuff.”
She nods out a yes and says nothing. I’m not convinced she’s OK, but she’s not the least bit argumentative, so I’m enjoying that part of her right now. I leave the van running to keep them warm and then go inside the shop. No one’s at the front desk, so I walk around it and open the door to the garage. Music is blaring and Jason is talking to Jimmy in the far bay where the new car is.
“Hey,” I call out. “I need some stuff out of this car.”
Jason looks and waves to Ash’s car. “It’s open.”
I check the license plate as I walk up to the car—it’s Texas, so that makes me feel better—then pop the hatchback and go around to grab her shit. When Ashleigh said she had a bag of clothes I didn’t expect it to be a plastic grocery bag with one outfit in it for her and yet another footied sleeper for the baby. That’s all the kid’s been wearing since I met her. There’s some stray diapers so I stuff those in the bag, and a stroller. That’s what she really wanted.
“You marrying this girl now or what, Ford? Playing daddy?”
I turn to Jason and he’s laughing, like this is some fun joke. “I’m helping her out, you moron. How’s my Bronco coming?”
“She’ll be done tomorrow, probably around noon. I’m almost done but I’m gonna knock off early today. My nephew’s skiing slalom at Loveland in a couple hours. You wanna come?”
“Fuck you.” I grab the bag and the stroller and walk away.
“Just kidding, Ford,” he calls back.
“Just have my truck ready by noon.” I exit through the mechanic’s door and throw the shit in the back of the van. “You said you had clothes. All I found was a grocery bag with some baby t-shirts, a sleeper, and a pair of jeans.”
“Yeah, clothes,” she says.
“Well, we can pick stuff up in the Village after we eat.”
“My stuff’s not good enough for you?”
I pull away from Jason’s still irritated about his remark, so I say nothing more about it—just head over to the Village, park the van, and get the stroller out for Ashleigh. It’s like a modern marvel of engineering, that thing, but she presses levers and flips it open, and then lies the baby down inside.
“She looks cold. Doesn’t she have a coat?”
“She’s three months old, Ford. Her wardrobe’s a little short on Alpine gear.”
“We’ll get her a snow suit on the way to the restaurant. There’s a baby store.”
“It’s your money,” she mutters as we walk down the sidewalk to the village. “Wow,” she says as we enter the shopping district. “This is pretty swanky. I don’t ski, hate it in fact. So I’ve never been here before.”
“Swanky, yes.” I laugh a little at that. Vail Village is surrounded by five-star hotels built to look like the Bavarian Alps. Why? I have no idea. It’s the fucking Rockies, they should just own it. If I was planning this place I’d make it look like Deadwood. “Here’s a baby store right here.”
“They play on your guilt, that’s why the baby store is near the entrance. She’s got like six blankets, Ford. She’s not cold.”
I ignore her and open the door. Ashleigh scoops the baby up and leaves the stroller outside, since the boutiques here are pretty cramped and small.
“Can I help you?” the saleswoman says.
“Yes, I need snow gear for an infant.”
“Oh sure, we have—hey, Ford? Ford Aston?” The woman smiles at me, her eyes picking up interest now that she’s recognized a familiar face. “It’s me, Stacylynn.” She gives me a little wink. “Remember me? Senior year at CU? The Hairy Buffalo New Year’s Party?”
“I never went to that party, but yes, I do remember you, Stacylynn. How have you been?”
“I know, we never made it inside—believe me, I’ve never forgotten that night.” She sways her hips a little as she stares up at me.
“Eh-hemmm,” Ashleigh says. “Do you mind? We’re shopping for baby snowsuits.”
Stacylynn barely acknowledges Ash and if we were together that might piss me off. In fact, it does piss me off. “That part was rather forgettable for me, sorry, Stacy.”
She scowls at me. “All the infant wear is over against the back wall. Let me know if you need help.”
Ash and I walk to the back and she picks up the first one she sees. “This one’s good. Let’s go.”
“What about a hat? And mittens?”
She waves her hand at me and takes the suit up to the counter. I grab a hat and mittens and join her, pay Stacylynn, and then we head back out. Ashleigh slips he baby into the snow suit, which is more like a down-filled cocoon, and pushes the stroller. “So did you live here your whole life? In Vail, I mean? It’s pretty nice.”
“No, I lived in Denver most of the time. I went to school in Denver. But we came here on the weekends, for winter break, and summers. I guess it adds up to about half the year. So it’s home for me.”
“Did you really not remember your tryst with that girl back there?”
I have a photographic memory, I forget nothing. And Stacylynn was what I’d call adventurous. But I know what Ashleigh wants to hear, so I say that instead. “She’s one of many, nothing more. Completely forgettable.”
“Are you gonna forget me?” She keeps walking even though this is a pretty big question. “When we stop hanging out. Will I be just another forgettable girl?”
We walk past a large group of drunk skiers, so I wait until they are behind us before I answer. “I guess that depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not you let me forget you.”
“So it’s up to me to hold your attention? What if I forget you? Will you care?”
Normally I’d never participate in a conversation like this, so the fact that I’m even considering it tells me that no, I won’t forget her. She’s different. She’s nice, for one. She’s calm—mostly. And even though she had me pretty wound up this morning with the crying stuff, she’s not being difficult on purpose. But I’m not gonna give in so easily. “I’ll think about you every time I break out a blizzard blanket, that’s for sure.”
“Oh.”
“Or see a pretty woman breastfeeding,” I add before I can stop myself.
She laughs at that. “Perv.” I know my limits, so I say nothing. “You want to watch me, don’t you?”
I look over at her and I swear, my dick does a little jump at her words. “No.” I think about it for a second. “Maybe a little.” She snickers this time. “OK, I’d like to explore my options.”
She has to bite her lip to hold down the smile, but it leaks out anyway.
We reach the diner and I hold the door open and wait for her to push the stroller in. It’s not crowded since breakfast is over and lunch hasn’t started yet. The hostess bends down to coo at the baby, and then Ashleigh asks if they have a booth that might be more private so she can breastfeed. She shoots me a look and I raise my eyebrows and smile. They don’t, not really, it’s a diner. But the waitress takes us to the back where there are only a few other tables.
The baby’s asleep, so she’s not going to be nursing. But the innuendo lingers in my
mind. She’s playing with me now. Maybe because of Stacylynn, maybe because I saw her in a vulnerable spot earlier. Maybe because she knows we’re gonna spend the next few days together on the road. I’m not quite sure what she’s thinking, but she’s laughing at me right fucking now. “What?” I ask.
She shakes her head and looks at her menu. “What’s good here?”
Your tits, I think. Take them out for me. They are hard and swollen under her—my—t-shirt. “Maybe I should just give you all the shirts in my closet, since you seem to like them so much.”
“I think it’s interesting that you just now noticed I was wearing it.”
“You two ready to order?”
I glance up at the waitress and thank God that it’s not someone I know. “Number seven, scrambled, toast, and turkey bacon.”
“Number eleven, strawberries on top, hash browns and real bacon.”
“And coffee,” we both say at the same time. “Decaf,” Ashleigh adds quickly.
She smiles at us and leaves.
My phone buzzes in my pants and I take it out and check the screen. “Fuck.”
“Who is it?”
“Rook.”
“Who’s Rook?”
I hold up a finger at Ashleigh. “Yes, Miss Corvus.”
“Ford,” she starts calmly. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. OK? Don’t say mean things to make me hang up. I can’t take it.”
“Where’s Ronin?”
“Downstairs. I’m at home.”
“So you’re calling when he’s not around. Why?”
“Ford—”
“Rook, I’m done. I’ve walked away. When I walk away I mean it. I’m not coming back. It’s over.”
“Ford, you don’t end friendships that way. That’s not how you end a friendship. I know we’re still friends. I know we are. You’re just… I dunno. You’re just… Help me. Say something, Ford. Help me understand this. You know I love you, you know I do. I just…”
“You just don’t love me like you love Ronin.”
She says nothing to this but Ashleigh’s eyebrows go up. She puts her napkin on the table and starts to rise, but I grab her wrist and shake my head. “Stay here.”