Still Standing

by Kristen Ashley

  “I lied,” he declared.

  Again with the eyelids fluttering.

  “Sorry?” I asked.

  “I knew just how deep I was in it with you when you were holdin’ Tatie’s hair back when she was pukin’. But I fell in love with you over a game of pool.”

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  I melted into him and didn’t have it in me to do anything but breathe, “West.”

  “We can’t do anything about those pages that were already written, baby. But we’re past those. Now we’re writing it new. You with me?”

  I was so with him, I could become him.

  If I did that, however, I couldn’t kiss him.

  Which was what I did to share I was with him.

  We made out for a spell on his deck in what Arizonians considered cold (when it was probably around seventy degrees).

  Buck ended it.

  And took me inside.

  30

  Still Standing

  “You’ve got to be fuckin’ shitting me.”

  Buck spoke words I was thinking when we saw Kristy’s junker sitting outside his house on our way back from visiting Rogan.

  I went in to see him alone.

  I went in prepared.

  I found, upon seeing my emaciated ex-husband, who’d once been so handsome I could barely look at him and breathe at the same time, now had aged thirty years in six months, and I was not prepared.

  What I was, was forgiving.

  He needed that.

  He was dying.

  I gave it to him.

  I wasn’t sure I meant it, not totally.

  What I was sure of was that I no longer had the time to find my way to the place of forgiveness.

  I also knew I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself knowing I didn’t offer it even if I wasn’t there yet.

  And last, I knew that now he could die having it.

  I also assured him I was fine. I had a good job I liked doing and I was moving on.

  I did not tell him about Buck.

  That was something he didn’t need to know before he was lost to this world.

  “It was stupid,” he’d rasped before I left.

  “We don’t need to talk about it, Rogan,” I told him.

  “I wanted it, when I was gone, to take the place of me,” he explained.

  He was talking about the money.

  “Nothing could have taken the place of you,” I replied.

  It took visible effort, and was hard to watch him make that effort, but he nodded.

  “You’re going to think I’m ass, sweetheart,” he warned. “But I don’t regret doing something stupid to look out for you. I regret that doing something stupid took you away from me so I didn’t have you. Not when I needed you. That I just didn’t have the time I had left with you.”

  I didn’t know how to respond.

  I went with honest.

  “I regret you did that too.”

  “You loved me, right?” he asked.

  My throat closing, I took his hand in mine and kept being honest.

  “I loved you, Rogan. So, so much. You were the best thing in my life up to that point. I’ll always have that. And I’ll have it because you gave it to me.”

  And I could tell by the expression on his face that was what he needed to know before he was gone.

  Needless to say, I was in a quiet, reflective mood.

  And Buck was giving me that, but doing it holding my hand tight in his, resting on his thigh.

  Now it was even tighter as we drove up his lane to see Kristy get out from her car.

  It was still early. The kids wouldn’t be home for at least an hour or two.

  And she was alone.

  No Knuckles.

  Buck parked, but before he got out, angry eyes on Kristy, he was Buck.

  So he issued orders to me.

  “Right. In the house, baby, make yourself a margarita. I’ll be in soon’s I can.”

  “No way.”

  That made his attention shift to me.

  “You’ve had enough today,” he declared.

  “And I’m still standing,” I replied.

  He stared at me.

  Then he scowled at me.

  Then he stated, “Next time, I’m gettin’ a weak woman who leans on me and does what she’s told.”

  “Seeing as I’ve got my hooks in you and I’m never letting go, good luck with that, baby,” I returned, throwing open my door and pulling myself out of his SUV.

  Kristy’s eyes were going back and forth between us, and I barely got a few steps in before I had Buck’s arm around my neck, curling me to his side and halting us a good ten feet away from her.

  This was probably a good call.

  I was in no mood.

  “We haven’t had a good day, so whatever shit you got planned to lay on us, pick another time,” Buck demanded.

  “I just want to talk,” Kristy said.

  I felt Buck’s body move in surprise, which was the same thing mine did.

  Not just her words.

  But her whipped tone.

  “What do you wanna talk about?” Buck asked cautiously.

  “Can we go inside?” Kristy asked back.

  “No,” Buck denied.

  Her jaw got tight.

  Buck said nothing.

  I didn’t either.

  This lasted what felt like a long time.

  “Okay, listen, things aren’t good with Knuckles,” she finally said, each word sounding like it took the gravest of efforts to force it out.

  “And I care about this because…?” Buck let that trail.

  More self-forced confessions from Kristy. “I’m not proud of it, but maybe I’ve been takin’ that out on Tatie and Gear.”

  Buck again said nothing, and neither did I, but our bodies did the surprised sway again.

  “Tatiana mostly,” she muttered.

  “I’ll repeat, I care about this because…?” Buck pushed.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Because I don’t want you to take my kids from me, asshole.”

  “Well, callin’ me names makes me feel all kinds a’ good about makin’ your life easier when you got it shit and you take that shit out on my kids,” Buck replied.

  “My kids too,” she fired back.

  “Woman…”

  Uh-oh.

  His tone had changed and was such, I slid both my arms around his middle in case I had to hold him back.

  “…your daughter was assaulted. She was nearly raped. And you’re not gettin’ on with your old man, you show the fuckin’ day after that shit happens, and lay my baby girl out, and now you’re layin’ claim to those kids like you’re saving your place in line for mother of the year?”

  “She’s a handful,” Kristy hissed.

  “I know that,” Buck bit back. “She’s also a teenage girl. You been one, you didn’t see this coming?”

  “You don’t know how it is day to day,” she returned. “It’s tough day to day, puttin’ up with her shit.”

  “Okay then, it’s so tough, I’ll take that chore off your hands,” Buck stated instantly.

  “Buck, listen to me—” she began, leaning forward.

  “No, you listen to me, bitch. I have not been a teenage girl. But I had two sisters. And growin’ up with them, I got the drift. Shit happens for girls. It’s worse, the kids at school are fuckwads. What my sisters had was a mom and dad who gave a shit. What my daughter has is a dad who gives a shit who’s two hours away and a mom who’s so up her own ass, most a’ the goddamn time, my baby girl is blowin’ in the wind.”

  “I’m gonna get it together, Buck,” she bit out.

  “It’s too late,” he returned. “I sense you’re concerned about the custody battle, but you comin’ here hat in hand is not gonna stop that.”

  “I’m gonna get it together!” Her voice was rising.

  And at that, I lost hold on Buck as he broke loose and advanced on her, so
the only choice I had was to follow, and fast, since he was moving like a bullet.

  He was going so quickly, Kristy almost tripped in her retreat.

  She hit her car.

  And Buck got close, bent right into her face and thundered, “She was nearly raped!”

  I put my hand on his back and whispered, “West. Honey.”

  But my eyes darted to Kristy when I heard her broken words.

  “I know.”

  Okay, maybe not mother of the year and maybe late, as in too late.

  But knock me over with a feather…

  She cared.

  From his next words, Buck clearly did not see this.

  “You think she had a mom at home who gave more of a shit about her daughter than her own problems, she might not act out and maybe wouldn’t have been in a position to get herself nearly…motherfucking…raped?”

  Okay, that might have a kernel of truth.

  It was still below the belt.

  “West,” I whispered again.

  “You think I haven’t thought that?” Kristy demanded.

  “No, I think you haven’t thought that. ’Cause, see, since that happened, my girl isn’t callin’ home tellin’ us about the joys of livin’ with her mom and her stepdad and how understanding and supportive they are and how she can’t come down for the weekend ’cause all her friends got all sorts of plans, she can’t tear herself away. She calls Clara and bitches about what a bitch her mom is and how she needs to get the fuck outta there ’cause she’s goddamned miserable.”

  Kristy’s attention came to me when he mentioned me, but it went back to Buck on the word miserable.

  “I’m gonna try harder, Buck,” she reiterated.

  “Too late.”

  “I think I’m gonna leave Knuckles.”

  “I think I don’t care.”

  “He doesn’t get on with the kids.”

  “No shit?” Buck asked sarcastically.

  I knew Kristy had had it just by the expression on her face, even before she spat, “You know, you’re not perfect.”

  “Yeah, I do know that. I also know that house,” he swung his arm out behind him to point at the house, but he didn’t take his face out of Kristy’s, “is a safe place for my kids. Safe from their mother. And I’m gonna do what I can to give them more of that. I might lose. I might also win. We’ll see. But I don’t think dick. I’m gonna fight to give my kids some happy. And whatever happens, they’re gonna know their dad went to the mat for them. That’s what I know.”

  They stared at each other, Kristy was near tears, Buck was not backing down.

  “Go inside, West,” I said.

  He turned his heat to me.

  “No fuckin’ way.”

  “Go inside, honey,” I whispered.

  He didn’t go inside.

  He took a step back from Kristy and crossed his arms on his chest.

  I turned to her and said, “I think you should let the kids come live with us.”

  Her face twisted, she opened her mouth, but I got there quicker.

  “For a spell. If things aren’t good with your partner, sort that out. Tell them you need to handle it, and you need to protect them from it while you do. Tell them you want to see them and keep the path clear should they want to see you. Or come down here and see them. Buck won’t stand in your way.”

  Buck grunted his indication he was not at one with the last part.

  I persevered.

  “Kristy, you have this shot to take care of your kids. I know it seems like losing them, but in the end, it might be winning them back.”

  “So you get my kids,” she said snidely.

  “No, all three of us get to look after them while you deal with your life issues and start on the road to repairing your relationship with them,” I replied.

  Now she and I were in a staring contest.

  Ours didn’t last as long as hers did with Buck since Buck wasn’t feeling it.

  “We’re done. Go home,” he said to Kristy, catching my hand and beginning to drag me to the house.

  “If I have to move out on my own, I won’t have the money to fight for custody,” she called after us.

  Buck made no response, he just kept dragging me.

  “For fuck’s sake, Buck, Gear is nearly eighteen!” she shouted. “I’m not stupid. I know he’s gonna bail as soon as he’s legal to do it. He’s gone come May, and then I only have a couple of years with Tatie.”

  Buck turned at that. “You know, I have not one single fuckin’ issue with you feelin’ my pain. You took my kids from me, not across town, two goddamn hours away, and then you made their lives a misery and I could do dick. So no, Kristy, I do not have one single fuckin’ issue with you feelin’ my pain.”

  It was yet another shock, but at that, Kristy looked ashamed.

  “You’ve made your point, baby, let it go,” I whispered.

  A muscle jumped through Buck’s beard, he jerked up his chin, then he finished tugging me to and in the house.

  He slammed the door.

  And locked it.

  He stalked into the house and immediately went to the cupboard where the liquor was kept.

  I went to the end of the counter.

  “Uh…” I didn’t really begin.

  “No, babe, unh-unh.” He shook his head, pulling down the ingredients for margaritas. “Do not fight that bitch’s battle.”

  “I think she’s genuinely remorseful.”

  With the tequila and margarita mix down, his hands still around the bottles, he turned his gaze to me.

  “And I think she’s done with puttin’ up with Knuckles’ shit, she senses some serious alone time is in her near future, her kids fuckin’ hate her, or at least Tatie does, and she needs them now. She needed them before to shit all over them when her life wasn’t goin’ as she’d planned. And she’ll need them then when she wants a shoulder to cry on. Your ex’s attorney, babe, he’s an asshole. But he’s got one thing right. There are women out there who are weak, but they don’t just latch on to men. They latch on to whoever they have in order to see them through because they don’t got the balls to do it themselves. Kristy is that kind of woman.”

  “Well, you know her better than I do,” I said softly.

  “Yeah, I do. Don’t be taken in by her shit. She’ll do whatever she has to do to get what she wants. And if that fails, she’ll crumble. It is not a kid’s job to take care of a parent who cannot cope with their own fuckin’ life. It’s a parent’s job to look after their goddamn kids.”

  “Right,” I whispered.

  He moved to the cupboard and got out a pitcher.

  Since Buck didn’t drink them, apparently, I was going to enjoy a fair amount of margaritas that night.

  “Worst part about that is,” he mumbled, “you just did what you had to do, and it sucked, and we come home and we gotta deal with her shit.”

  “It’s okay, West.”

  That brought me his attention again.

  “It is not, Clara.”

  “Okay,” I murmured.

  Buck got down to the business of making margaritas.

  He had a heavy hand with the tequila.

  Then again, he always did.

  “Um…since we’re kind of on the subject, though perhaps you’re not in the appropriate mood to discuss this at this juncture, so I’m fine to defer it until later…but after Nolan left, you mentioned our kid,” I noted.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Our kid?”

  He looked to me. “Yeah, our kid.”

  “Um…”

  I had no more to say.

  Buck, on the other hand, did.

  “I didn’t knock you up, babe. But I’m gonna.”

  What?

  “You are?” I breathed.

  “Yeah,” he replied casually.

  “Um…”

  Again, I had no more to say.

  “You don’t wanna get married because the first one didn’t go too good, I understand,�
�� he stated, standing at the freezer, filling a tumbler with ice.

  Yes, a tumbler.

  He came back to the pitcher he’d filled and started pouring while still talking.

  “But I wanna get married. Want my ring on your finger. That doesn’t just mean shit to women, it means shit to guys. You’re gorgeous, I want you wearing my claim on you.”

  I was having trouble breathing.

  He walked to me, set the tumbler of margarita in front of me, then moved back toward the fridge, still speaking.

  “So all I ask is you think on that. Again, you’re not down, I’ll find a way to be good with it. But I’ll say now, I’d prefer you find your way to being down.”

  He got out a beer and twisted off the cap.

  It sounded strangled when I queried, “Are you asking me to marry you?”

  He was taking a drag from his beer.

  He stopped doing that, swallowed, and said, “No. Not gonna do that shit after you sat down with your dying ex who fucked you over huge then we had a scene with my ex, who’s been fucking me over huge for years. But I’m gonna.”

  “Oh…okay,” I muttered, unable to do more than that.

  “I see you’re not down,” he said quietly.

  And he looked disappointed.

  Oh God.

  I really, really loved this man.

  “When you ask me, I’ll try very hard not to scream ‘yes!’ and then do cartwheels all the way down to Phoenix.”

  His head ticked.

  Then his lips twitched.

  And finally, his eyes lit.

  “But you’re right. Now isn’t the time,” I finished.

  “Good we agree, babe,” he said, his voice filled with humor.

  “Mm…” I hummed, my heart filled with warmth.

  His humor fled and he asked gently, “You okay?”

  Was I okay?

  Buck was going to ask me to marry him (someday) and we were going to have a baby (or perhaps two, with him, I’d want two, but he already had two—we’d discuss that later as well).

  So, yes.

  I was okay.

  I was very, very okay.

  “Yes, I’m okay.”

  “Clara, darlin’, are you okay?”

  I got it then.

  “He was not in a good way,” I whispered.

  “I see that, considering,” he whispered back.

  “It was hard, seeing him that way,” I told him.

  “I see that too.”