by Kacey Shea
“Kiki, you are such a romantic,” I deadpan and she chuckles.
“Real love isn’t always sunshine and flowers. It’s hard work, digging, hoeing, removing all the weeds and laying down new soil so the seed you’ve planted will bloom after the winter freeze. It’s work, but really, isn’t everything worth having?” I find myself nodding because, yes, I see her point. I’m not quite sure it applies to Ash’s feelings for me. “Now. I must finish this flower while it’s still wet.”
“Because no one likes a dry pussy.” I can’t help myself and Kiki laughs her throaty chuckle, picks up the brush and gets back to work. I turn her music back up and fill a mug of coffee before heading down to the basement.
I grab my purse and jog down the steps. I’m really happy Kiki is painting again. She never mentioned why she stopped, but I can’t help but feel maybe I had a little something to do with bringing back her joy when I agreed to help clean up her yard. Sitting down on the floor I savor a few sips of my java and pull my phone from my bag. I almost choke when I see the message waiting for me.
Ex-Boyfriend Don’t Pick Up: Hey, Callie. Have you thought about what we talked about?
Thanking my past self for having the mindfulness to reprogram Chase’s contact name in my phone, I take a deep breath. I did that because he hurt me badly. And he made me weak. And I was worried I couldn’t hold my own around him. The person I was back when I did that and all those feelings of betrayal come back in a rush.
Fuck that! I’m not her anymore. And I need Chase to know that. He needs to know exactly what he did. And I need answers. Every time I try to move forward I can’t because we never had a real breakup. No argument. No big fight. I need to know why he did what he did. I need to hear him say the words. I need him to own it.
I don’t overthink and type out a reply.
Me: Hi. Yes, I’d like to talk. How’s tomorrow morning?
Ex-Boyfriend Don’t Pick Up: Great, meet at ten for coffee?
Oh, hell no! He’s not fucking up coffee. There’s no way I’d ever let him screw that up for me. Imagine the sort of intervention Ash would have to stage to bring me back from that? Chills run along my spine as I do just that. Shit. My body and mind are completely confused when it comes to Ash. He and I need to talk when he gets back, that much is clear. In the meantime, I need to find some sort of resolution with Chase. I’m not in love with him, but I did love him, and I want to hear what he has to say. I’m not sure I’d give us another shot, but if we don’t talk now I’m afraid it’ll be one of those things I second guess, that I’d always wonder “what if.” I’m done living with regret.
Me: That smoothie shop off Greenland Ave? Ten is good.
Ex-Boyfriend Don’t Pick Up: I’m looking forward to it.
I don’t reply to that and instead shoot a message to Jill asking if she’s free for an impromptu dinner. When she doesn’t message back right away I pull out my computer and check my email. A message from my contractor catches my attention.
Jim totally hooked me up. His contact ended up being a close family friend. Repairs that would have cost thousands more and probably taken months longer were quickly getting done thanks to the connection. Dusty agreed to bump me ahead of his waiting projects to fix the exterior wall and also repair damages that would affect the electricity or gas lines from working safely so I could move back sooner than later. Make the space livable until he’s able to return in a month and fix the cosmetic repairs. I scan his email to find a few pictures and I’m totally impressed with the progress. A little taken aback too, because at this rate he expects I can move back home by next weekend.
Oh.
My eyes scrutinize my well organized belongings. It will be good to move home. Yep. Everything will go back to its place. Yep.
Kiki’s serenade along with the instrumental music drifts down the stairwell and breaks my train of thought. There’s a tightness in my chest and I rub at the spot. It takes me a quick second to find my breath and I snap my computer screen closed. I don’t know why I’m agitated after reading that email. It’s great news. I’ll be moving back home in another seven days so why am I not jumping up and down with excitement?
Because you’re already home.
It might feel like it, yes, but Kiki’s not even related to me and she’s been more than generous letting me stay here for free. I pull off my sweatshirt, toe off my shoes, and unearth my note pads and color markers, setting to work to devise the best plan to execute my move.
I don’t think about meeting Chase tomorrow. I don’t wonder why Jill hasn’t responded. And I especially don’t wish that I was road tripping with a man named Ashley in a tiny environmentally friendly car.
I love silent treatment.
I’m childish, I know, but my satisfaction grows as I sit across the tiny sterile white tabletop while Chase fiddles with the straw of his smoothie. I’m not going to talk first. He invited me.
I wore a power outfit today, not an easy accomplishment in this late fall weather, but I unearthed my black ankle high boots. The ones with laces and extra buckles that are reminiscent of biker chick wear but cute enough to be sold in department stores. I paired those bad boys with black leggings and a black cotton long sleeve dress. I feel strong, tough, kickass and cute. It’s a lot of black and I realized as I was walking out the door that I’m dressed more appropriately for a funeral, but that’s sort of what this is. I’m here to say good-bye to Chase for good.
Last night when I couldn’t sleep it wasn’t because I was meeting Chase. It was because I was sick to my stomach with worry about Ash. Was he okay? Why did he leave? Did he make it to his dad’s or was he stranded in his eco-buggy on the side of the road, freezing to death and in potential danger of being abducted by a lonely truck driver named Gus? So specific and detail oriented were my obsessive fears that I broke down and sent him a text.
Me: Are you okay?
Me: It’s okay if you don’t want to talk but did you get to your dad’s okay?
Me: Because I’m picturing you in a ditch on the side of the road or in some psycho killer’s car. Can you please respond with a 1 for I’m not dead or a 2 for send help?
Ash: 1
Me: Shit, now I’m worried your abductor typed that.
Ash: Good night, Sweet Cheeks.
Me: Good night, Ash. Thank you.
I stopped myself there and I finally rested easy knowing he was safe. Hence my realization: if I’m more worried about my best friend than I am Chase, then I don’t love Chase anymore. And knowing that, hands down, is more empowering than any pep talk from Ash, or Alicia or Jill, or even Kiki can accomplish.
I sip my smoothie and smile politely. Impersonally. Chase fidgets uncomfortably on his seat and finally sets down his cup.
He meets my gaze. “So, I wondered if you gave any thought to what I said yesterday?”
I sip from my strawberry drink once more before placing it on the table and straightening my spine. “I have a few questions.” I say and Chase nods. “Why didn’t you tell me about your family?”
He leans back in the chair and exhales deep. “Going straight for it, huh?”
“I’d like answers, yes.”
His fingers tap an anxious beat across the tabletop. I get that he doesn’t want to talk about this, but I’m asking anyway. I hold his gaze until he answers, “My mom died because of me, you know that?”
“I’m sorry, Chase,” I say, because I am.
“She and my father struggled through years of infertility and when she got pregnant with me she thought her prayers had been answered. She died of an infection the day after my birth. I have one photo of us together. That’s it.” There’s so much hurt and anger in his words. I almost reach out to touch his arm, to calm his nervous tapping, to comfort him, but I don’t.
“My dad remarried right away. A woman who’d been divorced and left to raise her children alone. She never wanted me. Loved my dad, though. I don’t know, maybe it’s because my features favored my mother so
much, an ever present reminder of my father’s first love, she hated me. I grew up being reminded daily I was not her son.”
“So Cam and Tiff? They were cruel to you also?” I’m honestly curious, because it doesn’t fit with how they all act together.
“No. The contrary. They respected their mom, but when she wasn’t paying attention, or more often lost in a bottle of Jameson, they made sure I didn’t go without. That I knew I was loved. Appreciated. My dad worked a lot, so if it wasn’t for them I would’ve never survived.”
“Next question. Why Alicia?”
His brows lift and he shrugs and folds his hands into his lap. “A challenge. Too much alcohol. I don’t really have a good reason for that other than I’m sorry because it fucked up the good thing we had going. I want you back, Callie. I know I made that clear yesterday. So, what do you say?” He leans forward over the table and his eyes do the chocolate melty thing, only it doesn’t stir up any of the tingly anticipation or attraction that it used to.
“I think it’s too late for an “us,” Chase. What you did, it’s something I can’t move past. I can’t be with someone who is so careless with my heart.”
He sits up straight, his brows pull to a frown and his lips twist into a hard smile. “Because of Dumbo.”
“What?”
“Don’t play stupid. I know you’ve been spending all your free time with that big eared loser. I just don’t get it. Why him over me? I’m way better looking and we both know I bring the full package.” He gestures to his body and it takes all I have not to sneer.
If we weren’t in public, I’d be pulling out all the curse words. I blow out a deep breath and stand from my chair. “You sir, are a goddamn fool if you don’t realize why Ash is ten times the man you’ll ever be. And just so we’re clear, I’m done. I can’t believe I never realized before what a callous, arrogant, selfish person you are. Never call me again. Never.”
Chase stands from his chair. The legs scrape harshly against the floor, and he huffs out a laugh. “So, why’d you meet me here today? If you had no intention of coming back, of leaving Ash. That’s one hell of a manipulative bitch move.”
“Whoa.” I open my mouth to respond, close it, and try again. He really did not just call me a bitch, did he? “First off, I’m not with Ash. I’m single.”
“Yeah, right.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re gonna tell me you’re single right now and you’re passing on another chance with me? Excuse me if I find that hard to believe.” He shakes his head with a roll of his eyes.
Screw public decency. I glance around the smoothie shop and am relieved to find no small children among our fellow patrons. “Fuck you, Chase Matthews!” I say and turn on my badass black boots, not looking back once as I stomp out of the shop and to my Jeep. The engine roars to life and even though the day is extra cold and cloudy I slide my dark shades over my eyes. I check my mirrors and that’s when I discover Chase standing outside the shop and glaring in my direction. His brows pull into such a deep scowl it almost looks painful.
I peel out of the parking lot and leave him in the rear view. Something I should have done a long fucking time ago. Blasting the radio, I sing along to the girl power lyrics of P!nk at the top of my lungs. By the time I pull into Kiki’s drive I’m all amped up and restless energy still bounces around inside as I slam my Jeep door closed. Dark clouds, thick as smoke, swirl and swim in the mid-morning sky and instead of heading inside I go through the gate to the back yard. I stop short, not expecting to find anyone else back here.
“Ash. You’re back already.” It’s weird because his car isn’t out front. I walk down the stone paved path to where he’s kneeling at the edge of one of the flower beds. He stands, sets down his spade and brushes dirt from his knees. His cap is pulled low and I can’t read his eyes. “How’s your dad?” I say when I’m closer.
“Good. My dad’s good.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. The usual comfortable energy between us is off and it makes me a little sad.
“You came back early.”
“Yeah. I have to work tomorrow and I couldn’t sleep anyway so I woke up early and hit the road.”
“Cool.” Lame, but I can’t think of anything else to say.
“You look . . .” Ash appraises my outfit and I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, like I’m dressed for a funeral. I know.” I grin, glad that he’s back to teasing.
“I was gonna say hot. I dig the boots.” His lips pull up at one side and he pulls off his hat to run his hand through his hair once.
“Oh.” His compliment throws me off guard.
“Where were you?”
“I met Chase today.” Shit. I want to talk about what happened, but at the same time I don’t want to cause trouble for him at the station. I shift my weight from one heel to the other and rub my arms against the cold. I should have a jacket with this drop in temperature, but I didn’t expect to be outside long.
“How did that go?” Ash blows out and slaps his ball cap back onto his head.
“Really good, actually—”
“I’m happy for you.” He interrupts and his gaze lifts over my shoulder. “Hey, so I need to get going now. I didn’t sleep much and I’m on shift tomorrow.”
“Ash, wait. Let me explain.” I don’t know what he thinks I was going to say, but I want to explain how things went with Chase. I’ll leave out the bitch part because that’s sure to get him in trouble, but the rest I should share.
“Callie, you don’t owe me anything. I mean that.”
“But I want to. You’re one of my best friends. I want to tell you everything—”
“You’re right, but I’m not sure I can handle that. Not right now. Not while I’m still working for Chase. I can’t lose my job, Callie, and I can’t hold back my emotions when it comes to you. If you tell me about Chase I’m not sure I could go in to work and not punch my supervisor tomorrow. Give me some time?”
He’s right. I’m being selfish. I think over my brief conversation with Chase and I’m sure most parts Ash won’t enjoy. It’s just so difficult censoring my conversation with him after weeks of open honesty. It’s lonely.
Something wet touches my nose and I lift my chin. Snowflakes flutter through the sky and more hit my face, melting as soon as they hit my skin with a wet kiss.
“You did it,” Ash whispers. He watches the sky with wonder.
“What did I do?”
“Finished the yard before the first snow.” His smile stretches across his face—unguarded, beautiful, real—and it steals my breath.
“I couldn’t have done it without your help,” I say and he shrugs. “Ash . . . I . . .”
“I liked helping. I’m glad we did this together. For Kiki, but you don’t need me anymore.” His smile stays in place but the delight in his eyes dims.
“But what if I do need you?” Because I do. I can’t imagine not seeing him, talking to him, laughing with him every day. The thought has my pulse racing in a panic.
“I need you to be more sure about that.” He bends the cap of his hat between his hands and meets my gaze. “It’s okay, Callie. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me. Put yourself first. You deserve to be happy.”
But you make me happy.
I almost let the words loose, but he’s right, I need to be more certain before I admit that aloud. It’s not fair to him. I need to be honest. I open my mouth to speak but my voice clogs with emotion. I blink to keep the tears from leaking out of the corners of my eyes. The cold air stings my face and his words squeeze my heart. I don’t know what to do here but I can’t help but feel as if I’m losing my best friend.
“Come here,” he says and pulls me to him. My hands wrap around his waist and hold tight to his coat. His breath is at my ear and he squeezes me tight. “You looked like you needed a hug,” he murmurs and I nod, unwilling to speak because I’m sure I’ll sob instead. We stay like that, him
holding me, and the snowflakes pick up pace and size. The day is so silent, nothing but our breath fills the air and it’s as if we’re the only two people outside.
His arms release me and he steps back. “It’s really coming down now. I should go.”
“Where did you park?”
“At the station. I jogged over. I wasn’t sure if I’d sleep there.”
You can stay here. I bite my lip so I don’t say the words. “Want a ride?” I offer instead.
“Nah, the walk will be good for me.” He winks and touches his finger to my nose. His skin is warm against mine and my lips pull into a smile remembering our paint fight in this same place just weeks ago. “You better get inside or you’ll turn into Rudolph,” he teases.
“’Kay, but you’ll text me when you get home? So I’m sure you didn’t fall into a snowdrift or get eaten by wolves.” I’m joking. Mostly.
Ash laughs, picks up the spade from the ground and then stores it back in the shed. He locks the door and I follow him up the path to the front of the house. “Later, Sweet Cheeks.” He grins and backs away down the driveway. He lifts his chin and I love the way his eyes are more amber than green.
“Text me?” I call back and he nods before he turns. Hands in pockets and head down, I watch until he disappears around the corner at the end of the street. There’s magic in the air, the first thin layer of snowflakes finally piling enough to cover the lawns. It reminds me of home and I pull my phone from my pocket to call my daddy as I step inside the house.
“My girl.” His voice is a comfort even with the miles apart and I don’t know why but I burst into tears. “Callie, Callie, is everything all right? Who do I need to hurt?”
I can’t help but laugh, even though I’m crying. “Sorry, Dad. It’s been a day. I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
“I swear. I’ll be okay. I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you.” I unlace my power boots.
“I miss you, too. You’re still coming for Christmas next month?” Hope and maybe even a little apprehension sneak through his question.