by Kacey Shea
Today, much like the past few days, I find myself driving aimlessly for an hour to try and clear my mind. It doesn’t surprise me when I glide down the street near the old library and pull into the empty lot. The charred structure glows with an almost luminous glare from the way the sunlight reflects off the fresh snow. It looks so innocent, unassuming. The remnants don’t showcase the destruction of what was an entire community’s collection of books, crafts, and artwork. The fire that took my dear friend’s life.
I wish they would knock the place down.
My feet hit the snow with a soft crunch as I hop out of my Jeep. I follow the familiar path to where it meets the chain link fence, something the county installed within days of the fire to keep the area secure. My eyes peruse the wrecked structure, the inside a gaping black hole. I squat down and pull the wrapped bag from my pocket. Though I’m probably only feeding the squirrels, I can’t help but leave a paper bowl of food in the hopes Silas will find it. That or he’ll realize I’m coming here daily and show his face.
The crunch of snow lifts my gaze and I search for movement. A flash of black fabric around the corner of the building catches my attention but it’s gone before I get a good look. Someone’s here? And inside the fence?
Maybe I should call the cops. But then whoever it is will be long gone. I have to find this person and ask if they’ve seen a very unhappy tabby cat. I shoot to my feet and jog the fence line, looking for a break or hole. I discover one, farther from the path that leads to the parking lot, and I slip through where the fence gapes.
I race in the direction I saw the person disappear. Pumping my legs as fast as they’ll go I almost stumble and trip twice before I round the corner. A man’s body, or maybe a large woman because all I see is a long coat, boots, and beanie covered head, walks along the exterior wall. Shit, they’re almost to the other corner.
“Stop! Wait! Please!” I shout and I’m thankful they do. Slowing my run to a jog I’m a little breathless when the person turns so I can see his face.
“Ash?”
“Callie?” His brows lift with surprise and he appears as shocked as I.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt and he shrugs. His gaze falls to the ground. “It’s good to see you. I just—I thought you left.” It hurts to say the words aloud.
His gaze lifts and he pulls his hands from his jacket pockets, rubbing them together and then breathing into them for warmth. “You look good, Callie.” I notice he avoids my question.
I take a moment to study his features. His eyes that hold no joy, the deep circles under them, and the frown of his lips. “You’ve looked better,” I respond and he gives a gruff laugh. My lips pull up at the edges because I’m so happy to see him, but I hold it back. I don’t know why he’s here but it’s surely not to stay. “You told me you were leaving,” I say and it secures his frown in place.
“I was leaving. But—”
“What?” I say with all the hurt I feel. He’s been here. Around. And I’ve been suffering without him, with loss for Kiki, missing two people when I could have had one by my side. Or in my bed. Fuck. So not going there right now.
“I talked to my dad and he said I couldn’t come back. Not until I faced my fears.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” I throw my arms out wide toward the burned building.
“No. I’m being a pussy. Actually, I’m looking for one.” He blows out a deep exhale, runs his hands over his face, and glances up. His eyes widen and his arms halt. “Don’t move,” he whispers, his gaze trained over my shoulder. Fear prickles my skin underneath my warm coat.
“What? What is it, Ash?” I whisper back.
“Silas.” Ash moves toward me with one slow step after the other. I twist carefully as he passes and my eyes find the not-so-fat, angry tabby glaring down from the second story window. The glass is blown out and I’ve no clue how we’re gonna get him down. We both are gentle with our steps, not wanting to spook the kitty.
“What are we gonna do?”
“Hell if I know. Any ideas?”
“Well, you’re the firefighter! Isn’t this your area of expertise?” I smart back and reach inside my pocket. I have another stash of kitty food. Silas’ favorite. I’m not sure what to do with it, though. That cat ain’t jumping down on his own, even for a meal. I shove the baggie at Ash. “Here.”
“This could work.” He nods approvingly and his lips pull into a ghost of a smile. He shakes the bag and Silas stands at attention. That’s right, buddy, come get the good stuff. Ash removes two kibbles and tosses them through the window. Silas disappears.
“No! Why’d you do that?”
“Just wait,” Ash says and moments later Silas returns to the window with maybe a little less hate in his stance. “Silas! Silas, you need to come down for more.” Ash sings and shakes the bag. Silas’ tail pops up and the cat begins to pace back and forth along the window ledge. “That’s right. You want this, don’t ya? Callie brought you the good stuff.” Ash begins walking, his pace brisk, at the same time shaking the bag. I have to jog to keep up with his long strides. Silas disappears from the window and I fear we’ve lost him again.
“Ash,” I say, not sure why, other than I’m scared. I’ve been searching for Silas every day. Now that I’ve found him I’m worried it won’t be enough.
“Trust me, Callie.” Ash hurries his pace. We wrap around the building to the front, to where there’s the most damage and the structure lacks an entire front. You’ve got to be kidding me. Silas sits on his hind legs, tail snapping back and forth, just waiting for us as if it were the most natural thing. Ash hands me the food bag. “Only give him a few at a time.”
I squat down, a few feet away from the weathered kitty, and shake the bag. Ash removes his coat and walks around the cat, giving him a wide berth. Silas glances at me with what could only be construed as boredom.
“Yeah, right, buddy. You don’t have to play it cool with me. I know you want this,” I murmur to the cat. Ash’s brows rise and his fluid steps falter. I place a few kibble bits on my palm and hold them out.
Silas struts my way and chews one piece hungrily. Poor cat has had it rough. He’s one tough kitty though, surviving these weeks alone with below freezing temps. Ash lets him eat another bite and then scoops Silas into his coat. Silas claws, scratches, and hisses in an attempt to escape but Ash holds him firm. Kitty is pissed.
“Oh, thank God,” I say, completely relieved that we can bring Silas home.
“I’ll hold him if you drive?” Ash offers and the hues of his gaze swim with sincerity, more green than hazel. I nod and he follows me to my Jeep. I open the door for Ash and he climbs inside with ease. Silas has abandoned his fight and instead alternates an angry cry with an ominous hiss every few minutes to inform us of his disapproval.
The drive is short, quiet, and I’m relieved when we pull into Kiki’s drive. Ash’s brows lift and he tilts his chin to the house. “You’re still here?”
I glance away and nod. And almost leave it at that. But this is Ash, and I’ve only ever been honest with him. “I can’t bring myself to leave. And, well, she left it to me.”
“The house?” he says, and his brow rises even further, disappearing into the beanie. He’s surprised, but hell, so was I.
“Yeah.” I pop the door open, walk around the front, and hold his door so he can slide out. Ash follows me inside the house and when we enter the kitchen he finally releases the cat. Silas darts out of Ash’s coat and races down the hall toward Kiki’s room. “He’s looking for her,” I say without really thinking and the loss fills me with pain.
Ash places his coat over the back of a chair. “How are you?” He shoves his hands into his front pockets and rocks back on his heels. He’s nervous.
“I’m taking it one day at a time. You?”
“Same.”
It’s strange with him here in this kitchen again. I want to ask him so many things but I’m not sure I want the answers. Why did you leave me? Why didn�
�t you really go? What am I to you? Do you love me? Instead, I opt to pick at the polish on my nails.
“So, how does Chase feel about Kiki leaving the house to you?”
“Chase?” I shake my head. “Why would I care what he thinks?”
“I would think your boyfriend would care about that,” Ash scoffs.
Wait, what? “Chase and I aren’t together.” I tilt my head and study the surprise that crosses Ash’s features.
“I . . .I thought . . .When you met him after the food drive?”
“I told him to go fuck himself.” I grin.
“You—?” Ash shakes his head and his lips pull to a blinding smile. God, he’s beautiful. “You really told him to fuck off?” His nose crinkles with his smile and I can’t help but giggle.
“I think my exact words were ‘Fuck you, Chase Matthews,’ but I think he got the gist.”
“Damn, Callie. I’m impressed.” He grins and it’s so good, having him here with me again.
“Coffee?” I ask and go to make a pot. Even if he declines, I need a cup.
“Yeah, I’d love that.” The wooden chair legs drag loudly across the floor. It’s a comfortable silence and as soon as the coffee begins to drip Silas enters the room with a loud meow.
“Hey, buddy,” I croon and squat down as he trots close, rubs along my leg, and allows me to scratch his head. “I’m glad you’re back.” I stand and he goes to his water bowl and laps up a drink before finding his spot in the window. I wash my hands and feel Ash’s gaze follow my every move. I really want to ask him why he’s here but at the same time I don’t want to ruin the moment.
“How’s your leg?” I sit across him at the table and slide over a full mug. He takes the cup and our fingers brush. It’s a jolt to my heart and I inhale sharply but he doesn’t seem fazed. He takes a long sip from his coffee and sets it down before answering.
“Healing well. They don’t think it’ll need surgery. I’m on leave, though, for four more weeks. It’s driving me crazy not having anything to do. I’m sure I’d be good for light duty but Cam didn’t give me a choice in the matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because I disobeyed orders that day. I didn’t follow my supervisors and I’m being punished.” He says the words so light and casual, as though it’s fine.
“That’s not fair.” I pull my face into a scowl when I think of what he did, how he risked his own life to save Kiki’s.
“But it is. Look, given a do over, I’d make the same choice, but my behavior, it wasn’t just my life on the line that day. I was lucky no one else was injured or worse. I accept my punishment. I’m thankful they’re allowing me back.”
“So, why did you say you were leaving?”
“Because I was angry that day. I was angry at Cam for chewing me out. I was angry I didn’t save Kiki in time. I was angry at God for taking her too soon. And I was angry at you because I thought you were choosing Chase over me.”
I reach across the table to grip his hand in mine. “I’m sorry.” His lips pull into a weak smile before he pulls his hand away.
“It’s okay. I’ve made peace with everything. I said things I didn’t mean. Let the intensity of the moment influence my words. So, when I said I was leaving, I was planning to, only my plans changed.”
“I get that.” I glance out the window where the clouds twist and churn as they cover the midday sun. I hate winter. It’s never bothered me before. But now . . . it’s just so difficult to find happiness when my sadness is mirrored in the clouds.
“Can we be friends again?” Ash says and earns my gaze. His eyes, they’re open, honest, true, and I miss our time together. Of course.
“It’s a yes for me.” I exhale a breath of relief and my lips pull into a smile, moving wider when he does the same. “I’ve missed you, Ashley. You and your bitch car,” I say smartly and it earns the laugh I was aiming for.
“I’ve missed you, too, Callie. More than you know.”
I hate how nervous I am.
But today’s the day. The reading of Kiki’s will in the lawyer’s office. The revised will. The one she had drawn up not five weeks ago. The one that her step children are unaware of, as far as I know. She also left instructions with her lawyer that Tiff, Cam, and I all be present today. To say I’m nervous is a vast understatement. I want to be strong, for Kiki, and so I don’t appear weak in front of Tiff and Cam.
But even knowing that I’ll have to tolerate interaction with that family, yesterday’s adventure of Operation Rescue Silas brings a joyful air to the house. Every time he meows, or jumps on the counter while I’m brewing coffee, or snakes himself between my legs begging for some love after I remove him from the counter brings a smile to my face. It’s as if I’ve gotten a piece of Kiki back.
And Ash . . . is just Ash. We talked, laughed, joked, and teased for hours before I drove him back to his car. And it wasn’t weird or uncomfortable at all. No strange tension. No building sexual energy. Well, maybe a tiny bit on my end, but none that I desired to act on. It was great to have my best friend back. And when he volunteered to drive me to the reading today I agreed immediately. If there’s anyone I want in my corner, it’s Ash. I feel safe and protected in his presence. And knowing he’ll be by my side today removes some of the apprehension of having to see Tiff and Cam again.
When he picks me up I don’t even argue about riding shotgun in his tiny car. The ride is short and quiet without the rumble of an engine to play background to my growing worries. I can’t imagine this experience will go well. My only hope is that it’s over sooner than later. We pull in front of the red brick building and Ash snags one of several empty parking spaces. The gravel crunches beneath my shoes and the bitter cold air stings my face. Ash holds the office door open and when my gaze finds his I’m met with understanding and compassion. He offers me a smile and follows inside.
We are greeted by a receptionist who directs us to the adjoining conference room. With one large oval table, we find chairs at the far end and wait. Not so patiently. My fingernails tap against the mahogany table, only I don’t realize I’m doing it until Ash’s hand covers mine. He offers my hand a light squeeze and attempts a smile.
My eyes snap up as the door opens. First through the doorway is a man in his late fifties dressed in a suit. I assume he’s the lawyer calling this meeting, but I don’t pay him much attention. No, my stare is caught in the glares Chase and Cam shoot my way. When I realize they’re staring at where Ash’s hand holds mine, I pull my hands off the table and fold them into my lap.
They take the seats at the opposite end of the table and leave one empty chair between them. For a second I pray Tiff’s come down with a violent case of diarrhea or stomach flu. Something that keeps her home. Something painful but not life threatening. It’s vindictive and petty, I know, but it’d be a nice way for the universe to offer her a little karma.
The old man sets a stack of papers at the center of the table, turns to our end of the table, and clears his throat. “I’m Albert Thompson, Mrs. Callahan’s attorney. Thank you for coming today. We’ll get started in just a—”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Tiffany’s voice rakes like nails on a chalkboard and it takes everything in me not to move out of my seat. She stands at the door in all her glory—high heels, makeup, designer suit, and glower firmly in place. “I know you’ve been squatting at her house. You’re not family. You’re nothing,” she snips.
“That’s enough, Tiff! Shut up so we can get this over with. Jesus Christ!” Cam’s hard voice cuts through the entire room and even the lawyer looks uncomfortable. He takes a moment to straighten his tie. Cam reaches over, grips her wrist, and tugs until she releases her glare on me to take the seat between her brothers.
Mr. Thompson clears his throat and sits in the chair midway around the table. “Folks, thanks for coming today. I had the pleasure of working with Mrs. Callahan, as well as Mr. Callahan, prior to his passing. Mary Katherine requested that I read aloud
a letter before we get to the will.”
“Of course she did,” Tiff mutters loud enough that everyone hears. I ball my fists in my lap and Ash reaches over to massage my shoulder. He’s trying to calm me, and he’s right, I need to remain so, but part of me wants to wipe that high and mighty look off her face.
Mr. Thompson shuffles the pile of paperwork before him and produces a letter, much like the one Kiki left me in the box at home. My breath catches and I wait as the seconds drag before he finally clears his throat to read aloud.
“Dear Cameron, Tiffany, and Callie. This is quite the predicament, isn’t it? All of you in the same room together on my account. It’s sad to me this probably won’t happen voluntarily until I’m gone, and I wish I could be there myself, but I don’t believe in ghosts so I can’t imagine I’ll be sticking around to haunt.” That earns a chuckle from Ash and a smile from Chase. The rest of us are waiting to hear what else is held in this letter. Tiff appears much too confident, cocky even, and just plain mean. She has no clue what’s about to drop.
“No, I’ll be high tailing it out of here to reunite with my dearest, Phil. But that’s not what you want to hear about so let’s get to the nitty gritty, shall we? I’ve always had my doubts about paternity in regard to my late husband’s children. Though as they grew it’s plain as day that Cameron is his son. Cam, there is a trust I’ve set up for you to inherit upon my death. It’s made up from monies your father saved in hopes you two would one day reconnect. It’s a shame you never had the chance. He always loved you, was proud of the man you became, and you would have loved him.”
I glance over to Cam and his jaw works back and forth. He sniffs several times and it’s apparent he’s trying to hold back any emotional response. I wonder if he regrets his past decisions.
“Now, as for the princess Tiffany, my trash talking neighbor—”
“What in the hell!” Tiff interrupts but the lawyer continues reading.
“I always suspected you were not my husband’s child. Therefore, you also have a trust set up in your name. However, it comes with the stipulation that you obtain a paternity test, using Cam and Chase’s DNA, before you receive one dime.” Tiff’s face turns beet red as she gasps and sputters. Cam’s brows draw to a deep scowl and Chase looks as though he might be sick.