He didn't say anything, just shook his head again. The muscles in his back drew tight with tension. In silence, she pulled on her shorts and grabbed her shirt and panties from the couch. She couldn't find her socks and shoes, but she didn't dare stay. In another minute he'll throw me out himself. As it was, the air, thick with anger and betrayal, nearly pushed her out the door.
"I'll stop by later,” she said in a low voice. “Maybe we can talk then.” She pulled the door shut before Eddie could answer. She wasn't sure he would forgive her this time. And she wasn't sure she would blame him if he didn't.
* * * *
Senator Kirk waited on the front porch, rocking in one of the wicker chairs. Ash closed her eyes and pressed her back into the wall. I can't do this. I can't. She opened her eyes again. I have to. She took a deep breath and stepped outside.
"Dad, what are you doing here?"
"This isn't exactly where I expected to find you.” He didn't look at her.
I am not apologizing to him. Her cheeks turned hot. I am not going to feel guilty about any of this.
"Your mother called you the other day,” he went on.
"Yes."
"Told you we were going to the Vineyard next weekend. As a family."
"And I told her I was working."
At that, her father stood and turned. “Sweetheart, I know why you're here."
You do?
He reached for Ash and pulled her into a hug. “I'm sorry,” he whispered into the top of her head. “I'm sorry for everything I put you through."
She began to cry.
"I know what you've gone through the last few months. I know it's been hell."
Her shoulders shook, and the more she tried to stop the tears, the harder they seemed to come.
"But please come home. Please. I want to...” He stepped back and swiped a thumb across her cheekbone. “I'm going to make things right. But I need you there. All of you."
Ash hiccupped. “I don't know..."
Her father glanced around, taking in the house with its peeling paint, Eddie's truck parked by the curb, the auto shop logo on her borrowed shirt. “This isn't what you want. Is it? This isn't really you."
How do you know what I want? Or who I am? “Maybe it is,” she whispered.
He tilted his chin a little and smiled. “Come on. That—” He nodded toward Eddie's front window. “That's just a distraction. I won't tell your mother about it. About any of it. Just come back with me."
Something inside Ash shifted. A distraction? Not Eddie. You don't get to take shots at Eddie. Not when he's the one true thing I've found this summer. Maybe the one true thing I've found in my life. “I can't."
"This place has nothing to offer you."
"You don't know that."
Senator Kirk barked out a laugh. “Yes, I do. I've been in a hundred of these towns, sweetheart. They seem charming at first. They're nice to look at. The people are welcoming enough. But there's nothing here for you. Where the hell would you find a job? You're brilliant. You need to live in Boston. Or New York. Not someplace so small. So limiting."
"Limiting?” He would never understand, she thought, and for the first time, she saw the distance in her father's eyes, the cold sliding scale that measured people and places. I'm tired of it, tired of wondering where I fall on that scale. And tired of knowing that no one really measures up.
"You should go,” she said.
His brows rose. “You're saying no? Just like that?” He paused, rubbing his jaw. “Your mother will be devastated. Colin too."
The mention of her ex was enough. Ash stepped away from her father, toward the door of her home. “Well, sorry. Sorry you wasted your time coming here. Tell them whatever you want. But I'm not leaving Paradise."
Chapter Nineteen
"My father was here.” Even as Ash said the words, she couldn't believe them.
"What?” Jen's voice raced up the octave. “At your house?"
"Yeah."
"You're kidding."
Ash didn't answer. One hand wound itself through her hair, still damp from the shower.
"You're not kidding?"
"It gets worse."
Jen whistled.
"I was at Eddie's."
"This morning? As in you spent the night there?"
"Yeah."
"Holy shit! It's about time.” Jen practically purred her approval across the telephone line. “So how was it?"
"How do you think?” Ash didn't want to remember, because it made everything worse.
Yet even as she said it, heat fluttered in her belly. His hands on her skin, his body, lean and hard, his mouth skating across hers and making her ache for more ... the memory of it made her dizzy. She lay flat on the hardwood floor of her living room and put a hand over her eyes.
"Ash?"
"I'm here."
"How the hell did your father find you?"
"Who knows?” Connections, she imagined, a phone call or two. It didn't really matter. He might have traced her credit card or gotten a copy of her cell phone bill. He might even have had her followed, the first day she arrived in town. She sighed. She knew enough of politicians to know they could find out just about anything they wanted to.
"He wants me to come back to Boston,” she said after a minute. “The family's doing a big press thing next weekend."
"What did you tell him?"
"That I wasn't coming."
"How'd he take that?"
"Not well. Big surprise.” She tried to rub away the headache. That wasn't the worst part, though. Not even close. “Eddie's furious."
"Mmm...” Jen clicked her tongue. “Yeah, I guess finding out your girlfriend is Senator Kirk's daughter might be kind of a rude awakening for a Saturday morning."
"No, he's really ... he threw me out. I don't know.” Ash's voice broke. “I don't think he wants to have anything to do with me."
"He'll get over it."
"I lied to him. About everything."
"Ah, you just didn't tell him the whole truth. There's a difference."
But Ash knew there wasn't, not in Eddie's mind.
"Give him some time. He'll come around."
She closed her eyes against the sun that insisted on poking through the blinds. “What if he doesn't?"
"I'm not answering that.” Jen paused. “But okay, if he doesn't, then you'll have to go down there and convince him to. Explain why you made up the name, why you didn't tell him who you really were. Come on, anyone else in your situation would have done the same thing."
But neither of her sisters had. Jess and Anne, whatever other faults they might have, had remained in Boston, fielding media questions and carrying on with their lives as Kirk daughters. Only Ashton had turned her back on the family.
"I saw Colin the other day,” Jen said.
"So?"
"He looks like hell."
"Good."
"That's what I said. To his face."
"You didn't."
"Sure did. I walked up to him and told him he'd never looked worse in his life, and that it served him right for letting the best thing go that ever happened to him."
"Jen, I love you."
"I know.” She laughed. “He agreed with me, too. You know, Callie went back to her old boyfriend. Right after Colin dumped her."
Ash thought about that. In the last few months, everything and everyone in her life had seemed topsy-turvy. Everything she believed so steady had tumbled out of place. But now her father stood guilt-free. Callie and Colin were no more. Next weekend, the Kirk family would travel to Martha's Vineyard, the way they did every summer. Ash remained the only puzzle piece still out of place.
"Jen, I have to go."
"So what are you going to do about Eddie?"
"I don't know."
But she did. Ash knew exactly what she needed to do. She needed to go down there and tell him everything, once and for all. She needed to explain why she'd come to Paradise. Why she'd changed her name. Why she'd left Colin, and wh
y she had no intentions of taking him back. Sure, she had some things to work out, including one hell of a mess back in Boston, but she needed to start here, with the one man who'd made her feel like no one else ever had. She needed to start with Eddie.
* * * *
Ash stared into her closet. Draped on a hook hung the shirt she'd grabbed from Eddie's apartment that morning. She glanced at the clock. Four hours ago, she thought. Has it only been a matter of hours? She felt as though she'd been fed through a roller, squeezed of all emotion and energy. She felt as though if she turned sideways and looked into the mirror, there'd be nothing left of her but a thin little line.
What do you wear when you're about to have the most difficult conversation of your life? Do you pull on something comfortable, to remind yourself no matter what happens, you'll still be all right? Do you wear something stunning, to make up for the shake in your voice? Or something familiar, to remind the other person that, really, you're the same person you were yesterday?
She sighed and reached for her favorite blue tank top, the one with the silver stripe across the front, the one that made her feel a little like a retro Wonder Woman whenever she pulled it on. Not that it matters. Eddie doesn't care what I wear. He never has. It was one of the many reasons, she realized, that she liked him so much.
For the last two hours, the music downstairs had blasted raucous, heavy metal. Some she recognized. Most she didn't. All sounded angry, frenzied, turned up to full volume, as if to block out sound and thought. She pictured him down there, cursing at her, wondering why he'd ever gotten involved in the first place. Ash brushed her hair and pinned some of it back from her face. Much as she wanted to hide behind it, today she needed to look Eddie straight in the eye when she apologized to him. He deserved that much.
The music shut off. Ash stopped in her bedroom doorway, feet searching for her flip-flops. His door opened. Her heart turned over. Is he coming up here? Maybe he would save her the shameful walk downstairs, the difficult knock on his door. She hoped. But then the front door to the house opened and thudded shut. No, Eddie wasn't coming up here to see her. Eddie was leaving.
Ash hurried through the living room. Pulling back the blinds of the front window, she peered into the street in time to see his truck spin in a tight circle and head downtown. Without even stopping at the intersection, he made a hard left, cutting off a mini-van. The van honked. Eddie flipped it off so fast, Ash imagined he meant it for her as well. Maybe for the whole town of Paradise.
He's going to Frank's. Somehow, she knew that's where he was headed. To work on cars. To forget his frustration. To put in a couple of hours away from the house and away from her.
Something inside Ash squeezed tight, and her chest began to ache. Okay, I'll give him his space. She let the blinds fall back into place. “I'm not going to chase him,” she whispered. If he left the house, then he didn't want to see her. Not now. Maybe not even today. Jen was right. She would wait.
Even if it just about killed her.
* * * *
Three hours passed. Ash did two loads of laundry, cleaned out her refrigerator, and e-mailed both her sisters. Finally, around four-thirty, she fell into a restless sleep on the loveseat.
A dream. Red and blue balloons. Ash on a Ferris wheel, all alone. She looked around, startled, and grabbed at the safety bar. As she spun around and around, the ground grew farther away each time she passed. Someone below her laughed, but when she glanced down, all she could see were faceless people. Flashes of light. Cracks of thunder. Still she spun in a slow circle, until the next time she looked, the ground had disappeared altogether, and all she could see was the sky falling beneath her.
In a cold sweat, Ash sat straight up. She blinked away the dream and looked around her darkened living room. Rain sliced against her windows; the sky had turned stone gray. The clock read nearly six. Her legs, crunched underneath her, tingled when she tried to move them. She rubbed her eyes and made her way back to the front window. Please let him be home. Please let his truck be there.
It wasn't.
She straightened her clothes and walked downstairs barefoot. Biting her bottom lip, she knocked on Eddie's door.
Once.
No answer.
Twice. Tiny began to mew on the other side of the door.
Three times, though she knew by now he wasn't home yet.
Then I'm going to Frank's. If Eddie's mad at me, fine. But I need to tell my side of the story. And I need to do that today, tonight, before we wake up tomorrow with another twelve hours of anger between us.
Five minutes later, Ash sat in her car, feet soaked from running through wet grass in flip-flops. She didn't care.
The drive to the shop took less than five minutes, but still her insides worked themselves into a giant pretzel by the time she pulled into the lot. The office light burned, and she jumped from her VW. Please be here. She peeked around the side of the building, where the employees parked. Five empty spots. And one with a truck inside it, parked at a crooked angle, as if its driver had slammed on the brakes just in time. A red truck. Eddie's truck.
Ash's heart hurled itself into her throat. She had to stop and take a breath before returning to the front door to try the handle.
Locked.
She frowned and tried again. It didn't budge. Then she read the sign near the bottom of the glass:
Monday-Friday: 9 to 6.
Thursday Nights and Saturday Afternoons:
By Appt. Only.
But he's here. I know he is. Ash knocked on the glass. She hadn't seen anyone else's vehicle parked outside, but if Eddie was here, wouldn't his boss be as well? She cupped her hands around her eyes and stared inside. It looked as though a dim light illuminated the work area, back behind the office. Maybe they're hanging out in the shop, she thought. Talking trash and telling stories. She knocked one more time.
"Ash?” The voice came from behind her.
She spun around, startled. Frank stuck his head out the window of his over-sized diesel truck, which rumbled in place beside her car.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm...” For a moment, she thought the tears might come again. “I'm looking for Eddie. He's not here?"
The big man cleared his throat. “I—um—no."
"But I saw his truck out back."
Frank nodded, eyes averted. “He was here earlier today, left it parked there.” His gaze flicked over her shoulder and back. “He wanted to borrow my bike."
Ash tried to picture Eddie on a ten-speed and couldn't. “Sorry?"
"My Harley. I bought it off a guy last year. Eddie's been messing around with it, wanted to take it for a ride."
"Oh.” She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you know when he'll be back?"
Frank raised his eyes, but the look of pity inside them almost knocked Ash to the pavement. “Honey, I'm sorry. He met Cass here around three-thirty. The two of ‘em been gone ever since."
Chapter Twenty
Cass clutched Eddie around the waist, leaning in close when he took the curve too fast. She shrieked something into his ear, but he couldn't make out the words. Nor did he really want to. When he'd seen her at the convenience store a few hours earlier, she had taken one look at him and known. Black moods and stormy temperaments, Cass could read like an open book. It was the subtleties within a relationship she'd never really gotten. Without saying a word, though, she'd pulled a six-pack of his favorite beer from the cooler and followed him to Frank's. Fifteen minutes later, they were on the bike. And as long as he didn't think too much about it, Eddie was content to ride, as fast as he could. As far as he could. Anything to get away from Paradise. Anything to forget about the woman who had lied her way into his life and then cleaved his heart straight down the middle.
"Cromer's Corners 2 miles” read the sign at the intersection. He slowed for the blinking red light. A right turn took them winding back toward Paradise, a left, nothing but farmland for twenty more miles. Straight ahea
d lay one of the state's most historic towns, dotted with landmarks, restaurants, and gift shops. With its connection to the Civil War, it remained one of New Hampshire's biggest tourist draws. Eddie gunned the engine and took off again. A few raindrops splattered down his chest and onto his legs.
We'll get something to eat and wait out the rain. If he remembered right, there was a local place downtown with fat burgers and endless drafts of beer. That might soothe his anger. Or at least chase it away for a while.
* * * *
"Finally.” Cass climbed off the bike and strolled into the pub. “God, just in time. I was getting wet.” She ran both hands down her chest, smoothing her flimsy tank top over a bra that didn't hide a damn thing. “Nice ride.” She looked at him through full lashes.
"Yeah.” Eddie found a couple of stools at the end of the bar and pulled them up. “Two tall ones,” he told the bartender, opening his wallet.
Cass took her time easing onto the stool beside Eddie, turning the heads of the three other guys at the bar. She wore slim jeans that hugged her hips and slid down just enough in the back to reveal the top of a bright pink thong.
The bartender glanced from her to Eddie and back again. Grunting what Eddie supposed was an approval, he filled two mugs and slid them over. “On the house."
"Bullshit.” Eddie tucked a five into the guy's tip jar.
The bartender shrugged. “Suit yourself. But it's ladies’ night, two for one."
Eddie didn't respond. He ran a quick hand over his hair. What the hell had happened to him today, anyway? How had he managed to wake up next to a woman he thought he was falling for and end up hours later sitting next to his ex-girlfriend?
He didn't want to think about it. He couldn't. The fury of finding out that he'd just opened his soul to someone who was a shadow, a pretend version, a liar, a fake, ate away at his guts. He wanted to puke.
Cass's warm hand crept onto Eddie's knee and stayed there. “How about a shot?” she whispered into his ear.
He shrugged. “Sure.” What else did he have to do tonight, but get rip-roaring drunk? “Tequila. And two burgers,” he told the bartender. “One with the works. One with cheese only."
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