CHAPTER 14
He arrived in the kitchen to find Margaret and Marshall chatting wildly over a bottle of wine.
“Hey,” he said loudly, announcing his arrival. “What’d I miss?”
“A fine bottle of Chardonnay,” said Marshall, filling him a glass.
Ashton noticed that Marshall had deliberately left the head of the table vacant for him and willingly taken seat to the left. Something caught in his throat. He must have become such a softie in the days he had spent here, finding meaning and depth in the smallest gestures.
He pulled back his chair and settled in, quickly glancing at Christy seated at the other end. He would have preferred her closer to him; where he could at least graze her fingers accidently while passing over the salt, pepper or sauce. She always did smell so delicious after cooking.
She looked away from him, turning instead towards JR. “We should start eating before dinner gets any colder.”
He sulked, picking up a piece of stuffed chicken breasts. She was avoiding any eye contact. She spoke very little and when she did she always directed her conversation to anyone but him. She seemed adamant on adhering to her decision on staying with Chad. Well, that wasn’t going to happen if he could help it.
“You’re a little picky with your food tonight, Ashton.” Marshall observed.
Ashton put down his fork to rub his temples. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”
“He must not like breasts,” Christy mumbled.
Ashton caressed the stem of his wine glass with the tips of his fingers. “Actually, I love them. I had some last night and they were beautiful. They were a special variety.” He smiled at the others at the table.
Christie blushed, almost dropping her fork.
“Right, you weren’t here for dinner.” Margaret noted. “Where did you dine out?”
He felt cheeky and he suddenly had an urge to torment the beautiful woman reddening across him. “I had a take-out. And they were delicious. They delivered right at the door.”
Christy puffed with embarrassment.
“Where did you order from?” Margaret asked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Christy ordered for me. I am totally hopeless at remembering names.”
He sat back, enjoying the woman shift uncomfortably on her chair as everyone turned towards her for answers. Well, she deserved it considering how much hurt she had caused him the entire day. And how the heck could she simply make an important decision as staying on with Chad all on her own? What about him? Hadn’t what they shared last night mean anything at all? He had gone down on his knees trying to please her last night and he was damned if she had decided that was the last time he’d do it.
“I… I can’t remember,” Christie stuttered. “It was from one of those junk catalogues in the mail. I threw the pamphlet away this morning.” She glared at Ashton. “I’m terribly sorry, but it looks like you will never get a taste of them again.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Ashton feigned a groan. “They were a small serving but they were delicious. It doesn’t matter though, because Christy’s are the best.” He took a bite of the stuffed meat and chewed it, glaring back at her.
“Oh, yeah,” Margaret said, bobbling her head. “Christy does know how to cook. Anyone’s who’s had a taste of her food can’t deny that. The guests rave about it, that’s for sure.”
“She’s always had a knack for cooking.” Marshall smiled. “She took charge of the kitchen when she was living with us as well.”
Christy stood up, carrying her plate with her. “I’m not that good. But thanks.” She managed a small smile.
Ashton gaze lingered on her frame, her back and then slowly moved down to her buttocks. He would agree she was a great cook. But right now, he was eager to have more than just stuffed chicken breasts.
Margaret stood up, and then JR left the table, leaving he and Marshall alone with an almost empty bottle of wine.
“Hey, you want to get out of here for a while?” Marshall whispered, crouching low as if he were hiding from Christy.
“Go into town? Get some beer?”
“More like drinking it there? At a bar?”
“Sounds good. Meet me by the crew cab in fifteen minutes?”
“You got it.”
Marshall rose casually and tossed his plate into the sink. “I’ll just take a walk before I head to bed,” he told Christy.
“Don’t stay up too long. Remember, you’re travelling tomorrow.”
“Yeah, got you sis,” Marshall said, kissing her on her temple.
Ashton rose up and put his plate into the sink as well. “You need some help clearing up?”
“No,” she replied tersely. “Margaret will be back soon.”
He nodded and began to walk away.
“How could you do that?” she uttered with disbelief, stopping him in his tracks.
“Do what?” he asked nonchalantly as he turned around.
“Embarrassing me like that,” she spat out. “That was so inappropriate!”
“Inappropriate?” He neared her until he was a breath away from her. She stepped back and he moved along with her. “No, inappropriate was you announcing that you were going to remain with that idiotic of a man after a night of passionate love-making, and having the gall to walk away with him hand-in-hand right in front of me!”
“Lovemaking? It was sex, Ashton. Nothing more. So get over it.”
“Sex?” He grabbed her wrist angrily and pulled her to him. “Is that what it was? Then why do I feel this!” He dragged her hand to his hard crotch, making her feel the length of his shaft straining against his pants. He rubbed her hands up and down against his hard cock and she caught her breath. “This is what you do to me every time I’m near you. And then there is this.” He dragged her palm up to his heart. “What do I do with that? It won’t fucking stop racing when I see you, when I touch you.” He cupped her face, nuzzling it. “And I’m so afraid it will completely stop if I don’t ever get to kiss you again,” he whispered, his breath shivering her skin.
He let her go and she stumbled back in a daze, utterly speechless.
“I have to go,” he muttered. He walked away with melancholic strides, dejected and frustrated. He had to respect her choices. And he could only do that if he put some distance between them, where he knew he couldn’t touch her.
*****
Her legs wobbled beneath her and she had to hold onto the kitchen sink to steady herself. She pulled out the nearest chair and dropped into it. What had he done? I’m madly in love with him.
Her mind raced, trying to rationalize through everything that had happened. But it was clear she had complicated it by sleeping with him. No, this is not love. It’s just a physical reaction. After all, he’s so goddamned handsome. Her body was simply reacting to memories of how she had felt about him all those years ago. This was sex. This was only physical attraction. She had to be right.
She shivered. Her ears deafened with the pounding of her heart as she recalled how his hard length had felt against her hand. His warmth had suffused through his pants and at that moment, all she had wanted to do was to wrap her hand around his hot velvety length. He had heated her instantly, her hot fluid creaming in her core. If he had known… if only he had known…
But then he had made her touch his heart and she had melted. Did he still love her? Was there a possibility that… he and she…?
She put her head in her hands in frustration. It was sexual compatibility. They were simply attracted to each other, she told herself again. Ashton was probably just as confused as she was. He didn’t love her. For god sakes, he was still engaged. What was more confirming than that? She had to sort this out and she had to do it fast. Otherwise, she’d be the one hurt again once it all came to an end. And she didn’t think she had the strength to pull through it this time.
*****
Country music blared in the small bar. People chattered and laughed, adding to the no
ise reverberating against the walls. Ashton wondered where they all came from as he glanced around at the people filling it to the hilt.
“Your first time here?” Marshall asked as he lifted another large mug of beer to his lips.
“Not yours, I can tell.” He grinned.
“Usually I would come here any time other than the night before I return to Bennett. Christy doesn’t like me traveling drunk back home. She worries about me a lot. But seeing that you and I… we, er, started out rough, we really didn’t get the chance to make amends over a glass of beer.”
“Thanks.” He smiled.
“Sisters.” He sighed. “They cause a good deal of grief when you’re close to them.”
“Well, you’ve always treated Christy like your little girl. I should have expected I would be messing with her father and not her brother.”
“And you’ve always looked out for Linda.”
Ashton grew quiet. “She was always a sickly thing.”
“And you were being protective. I know that now.”
“I didn’t expect to her be so mean and devious. She was always sharp with Christy, but I just it was her lupus getting to her; making her frustrated and all.” He recalled how he had witnessed Linda chastise Christy in the kitchen on that night she had run-off to her first date. He had uncomfortably listened to her curse at Christy and he had done nothing to stop her then. Christy had naturally assumed he had taken sides with Linda. What she didn’t know was how he later had tried to reason with Linda to ease off Christy a little.
“It’s all in the past now, kid. No need delving in them now.”
He palmed his face. “Sometimes, you just need to dive into that old trash to know why things are the way they are now. I was so stupid.”
“Everyone makes mistakes, Ashton. I made my own as well. No one is perfect. I wished things would have turned out better for Linda and me. You know, I loved your sister, right?” Marshall took another gulp of his drink. “She was beautiful. She was the belle of the town. Every man had his eye on her. So I was pretty surprised when she paid me any attention whenever I visited your father’s hardware store. She wasn’t always there. But when she was, she’d swish right up to me in one of her beautiful dresses.”
Ashton groaned. “Do I need to hear any more of this?”
Marshall punched him in the arm. “Ahhh, she was a princess. I should have known I was marrying trouble.”
“How come you never took up her offer to work at Dad’s store?”
Marshall perked his lips thoughtfully, tip-tapping his now empty mug on the bar table. “Can I have another?” He ordered the bartender. The man in crisp white shirt and black apron whisked him another and slapped the mug on a clean serviette. Marshall stared at his mug of beer, silently playing with the edges of the tissue. “Your father was a total bastard,” he said at last.
Ashton raised his brow. How does anyone react to someone cursing their parents? His mom and dad weren’t perfect, but he had always thought they were there for him and Linda whenever they needed them.
“When I had started dating Linda, your father didn’t like it. He wouldn’t let anyone serve me at the store and I ended up avoiding it altogether. Linda and I had a small wedding, as you know. But I wonder if you noticed that he had snubbed me during the entire ceremony. I thought things would improve after the wedding. I was mistaken. He never accepted me as part of the family.”
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t know.”
He shrugged. “They were subtle. You wouldn’t have noticed them unless you were looking out for them.”
“Did Linda know?”
“Yes.” He smacked his lips after another sip of his drink. “She told me to basically shut-up and put up with it and take that offer from your father while I stood a chance with him. Of course with the kind of pride I carried around; there was no way I was going to let that happen. I was immature. For the sake of our marriage, I probably should have taken his offer. But I knew I would never be happy. And then there was Linda who wasn’t happy just being a construction worker’s wife. We were screwed either way. I suppose things worked out for the best in the end. I’m happy with my new family and she’s happy being the rich daughter again.”
Ashton caressed the ear of his mug with his finger. But Linda was far from happy. After returning to the family home, she became even more resentful and recalcitrant, plaguing his parents with a lot more worry than they had whilst she was married.
“Yeah, Arthur Pryor was some nasty piece of work.” Marshall shook his head solemnly. He grew silent, staring at the glass shelf displaying an array of expensive liquor. “How is she doing now? Is she still ill?” he asked slowly, with genuine concern lining his eyes.
“Not as much.” Ashton sighed. “She had taken a serious turn a few months ago. But she’s out of that now and is actually coping quite well.”
Marshall nodded his fair head. “That’s good. I wish her well. I really do.”
“I know.”
“It’s strange how divorces are. Some people end-up hating their ex-spouses more than they had once loved them. And then there are the unfortunate ones like me. We let them live in some corner of our hearts,” he said, pointing to the left of his torso. “Right there. Absolutely hopeless at releasing them. Never being able to let them go.”
Ashton picked up his mug to his lips, drawing in the cool liquid into his mouth. He didn’t want to release Christy from his heart. He wasn’t ready. But then, would he ever be?
*****
Christy walked about the house, switching out the lights as she veered through it. Marshall should be asleep, she thought. It was close to midnight. She must not have heard him walk back in. She wondered if she should check up on him just in case she locked him out, and then decided against it. He had evidently looked worn-out when he had arrived to dinner. The last thing she wanted was to disturb him.
She turned the knob to JR’s room, treading softly towards his bed. He was sleeping on the edge, one hand dangling over it. She pushed him as gently as she could to the center of the bed and re-adjusted his pillow. She neatened his covers over him and then sat on the edge, threading her hands through his hair as she gazed down lovingly at his face.
He was so much like his father. His nose, his eyes, his hair. Everything about him reminded her of Ashton. If Ashton did want to commit to their marriage, should she allow him another chance? For JR’s sake?
She sighed. The truth was she was scared. There, I admit it. She tucked her head down tiredly into JR’s small shoulders. The Pryors and the Huntleys never did have a great relationship. And seeing that Marshall and Linda’s marriage had collapsed, she was far too afraid of confronting the same problems. It was safer as it was now. She and Ashton were already living separate lives. There was no good reason for them to stay together. None that was worth the risk of her son going through the emotional trauma that usually accompanied a divorce. If she stayed with him, she knew it would be difficult for her to simply walk away later. What was more tragic than staying in a bad marriage? She didn’t want JR developing a fear of commitment and love as she had done- witnessing one failed marriage after another.
She laid a small kiss on her son’s cheek. He was deeply asleep, traveling his world of dreams. She wanted to give him the best. And the best would be to allow him to enjoy his parents separately- where they were contented and peaceful in their own little worlds, where they each could give back to him the happiness he rightfully deserved.
Her phone buzzed and she immediately sprung out of JR’s room, hoping it hadn’t disturbed him. She frowned, wondering who it could be at such an unearthly hour. She glanced down at the caller ID and noticed with great annoyance that it was her husband.
“Hello,” she answered into it. “Ashton?”
“Christy,” he croaked. “Oh baby… Christy.”
“Ashton, are you drunk?”
He laughed. “As a skunk, babe. Or is it a newt?”
“Ummm… neithe
r. Can a newt drink?” She heard someone mumble sloppily.
“Of course, they can. Everyone drinks. We all drink. Get drunk. Be happy! No worries!” Ashton said clumsily.
“Ashton,” she said, trying to get him to focus on the conversation with her. “Where are you?”
“I am… where, where am I?”
“Ummm… O’ Reilly’s Bar,” the other man said.
“O’Reilly’s… Bar. You have to come and get us.”
“No, I won’t go and get you.” She almost screamed into the phone. “You will catch a cab and come straight home. Do you understand?”
“No, no, no,” he grumbled. “Damn. Why won’t these women ever listen?”
“I don’t know. Baffles me too. If you find out, you must tell me. You hear me, Pryor! You must tell me!” the other man screamed at him.
“Ok…ok. You need to let go of my collar so I can speak to my wife.”
“Sorry, sorry. Is that ok?”
Christy rolled up her eyes. Evidently, the other man, whoever he was, must be straightening Ashton’s collar now.
“Yes, fine. Thank you,” muttered Ashton. “I’m speaking to my wife.”
“Ashton?” Christy tried again.
“Listen, wife,” Ashton began and the man chuckled. “You must come and get me. I can’t drive… I will get a DB… umm U and I… something like that.”
“Yes, no drinking and driving,” the man said. “It’s highly… very, very, very… highly dangerous.”
“Shhhhh… no drinking and driving,” said Ashton. “You come now, woman.”
“I don’t think so,” Christy replied sternly.
“Oh, but you must because…”
“Marshall,” the other man said. “Marshall needs to travel back to Bennett tomorrow morning.”
Affairs & Atonements Page 13