“Mason, get your butt down here, now,” I shouted up the stairs from the kitchen.
“Isn’t this domestic,” Jessica said from the back door. Her hair was wild, her clothes rumpled. “Came crawling home, huh?”
“Fuck off,” I said.
“That’s no way to talk to your wife.”
“We’re separated. Papers signed and filed at the courthouse. You forced the issue, and I couldn’t be happier.”
Jessica’s eyes narrowed. “It’s that smut writer you’re screwing. She’s the reason you’re happy about the divorce.”
“No, I’m happy because we’re over. Have been for years. Since Olivia died. Who’d you fuck last night? The lawyer or Car Wash Dale?”
“Like you can talk. You flew my son out to meet your bed buddy.”
Dahlia had been right. I took too much delight when I said, “We’re not sleeping together. She’s a friend. End of story.”
“I have the pictures of you two. I have the proof.”
“That we talked on a beach. Sure did. Best conversation of my life.”
Jessica’s blue eyes narrowed further and her lips peeled back. I wondered if she’d start growling. “Dale met her for a date. Said she’s pretty in a wallflower kind of way.” Jessica sauntered forward so her body was pressed against mine. “Seems like a step down from me, and we both know she won’t compare to me in bed. Or out.”
I refused to look down and check out her cleavage. I kept my eyes on her face, noting the faint twist of her mouth as she realized her ploy failed. “You have no say in my love life.”
“You don’t know what love means.”
“I know we never had it.”
I finished throwing Mason’s lunch into his lunch box. I grabbed his breakfast sandwich from the microwave, burning my finger on the melted cheese.
“Mason,” I bellowed. “We gotta go now.”
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
“I need to get out of here before I say something I’m going to regret. Let my lawyer know when you want Mason, but I intend to be around a lot this next month.”
Mason’s feet pounded down the steps. His sneakers weren’t tied. I bent and tied them double-quick, snagged his backpack from its hook, and handed him his sandwich.
“Brushed your teeth?” I asked.
He nodded as he bit into his sandwich.
“Come give me a hug, honey.”
Mason let her wrap her arms around him for a second before he darted out the door.
“Mrs. Knowles’ll pick you up from school,” she called.
I glowered at her. “No. I will. One of us is going to parent, Jessica. If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. But our son is going to know I love him.”
She waved me off. “Enjoy playing daddy.”
I grabbed my car keys from the counter and slammed the door.
I took a minute to calm down before I got into the car.
“Are you getting divorced because you met Dahlia?” Mason asked.
I started the car, wishing Jessica would’ve waited ten more minutes to come home.
“You heard that, did you? No. Dahlia’s my friend. I’m not marrying her.”
“Too bad.”
I braked harder than I expected. I peered back into the rearview mirror. “What?”
“I like Dahlia. Abbi, too. I liked Darlin’. If we lived with them, I could ride that horse every day and we could eat buffalo burgers and I’d get to play baseball with you.”
“That does sound nice.” Warmth filled my chest with the fantasy Mason evoked. It sounded like paradise.
“Are you really going to pick me up?”
“Of course, buddy. I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”
“These new songs are awesome, Ash. Some of the best you’ve ever written,” Bill said when I walked into the studio. He had the pages spread out in front of him. He strummed out a few chords, smiling. “I can feel the clicking, and I haven’t even heard you sing the lyrics yet.”
I bit my tongue. My relationship with Bill had changed. I didn’t know if he was being effusive because he liked the tunes or because he was trying to make up for his mistakes with Jessica. We’d never been here before. I’d never questioned his honesty or his integrity. Now, I wasn’t sure I could trust either.
“Grab your guitar. Let’s work through this bridge before practice. The guys want to grab a bite and a beer after.”
“Can’t do the dinner. I need to pick up Mason. He’s seems to be taking the divorce well, but he’s just a little kid.”
Bill scratched the side of his head. “Okay, man. Let’s do this now. You got time?”
Professionally, we clicked. Better than we had in years. We’d made great use of our time, getting Simon’s song worked out with some quick fret work by Bill. Simon offered another for the sound track, and I’d jumped on it, loving the slow, smooth chord progression. Over the past ten days, I’d compiled six more songs from other indie rock bands and one female electric viola player. As cool as her playing was, it was her voice that absolutely blew me away. I looked forward to working with her again soon. A duet, maybe.
Later that day, I dropped Mason off at Bryan’s house for a sleepover and drove back to Seattle, exhausted. I’d talked to Dahlia, as I did every day, but she’d been distracted by her deadlines.
When I rolled into the apartment, Bill was already there, sitting on the beat-up leather couch in the living room. I told him he and Cammie could stay with my while they were in town for the show and recording the new racks. He watched me walk into the room, his eyes never straying back to the baseball game blaring from the big, flat-screen TV. He picked up the remote and clicked off the game.
I raised my eyebrow. Bill was a baseball fanatic. He hated to miss any play of any game.
“I should’ve told you about Jessica’s breakdown sooner. I’m really sorry, man.”
“Yeah.” I raised my hand. “Look, I’m not pissed. Not anymore, anyway. I don’t want it eating away at any more of my life. You and me, we go back further than Jessica.”
“I talked to your lawyer after you left to pick up Mason. It’s been bugging me this whole time I’ve been up here, what you’re going through. I told him about Jessica coming to my room. Cammie wasn’t happy I never told her about that night, thinks I didn’t say anything because more had happened. But I swear, Asher, I never screwed your wife.”
“Pete told me.” I clapped him on the shoulder, ending with a squeeze. “Thanks.” I met his eyes. “Means a lot, you doing that for me.” I kept my hand on his shoulder as I leaned in closer. “I’ll beat the shit out of you if you ever touch Dahlia, twenty years of friendship or not.”
Bill nodded. “Fair enough. I always liked her. For you, I mean.” He paused. “I miss hanging out.”
“Me, too,” I said. “Things good with Cammie?”
He clasped his hand over my forearm. “They will be. I’m going to make sure of it.”
“Good. Come on. I’ll buy you a beer.”
Bill smiled, his eyes alight with pleasure. “I’d like that.”
The problem with an hour-long commute was I spent a lot of time driving. Once again, I was on the road between Mount Vernon and Seattle. At least I’d seen Mrs. Knowles this morning when I picked up Mason for school. She’d told me she’d started a notebook cataloguing Jessica’s activities and careless comments. I would’ve felt worse about spying if Jessica hadn’t sicced Car Wash Dale on Dahlia.
I couldn’t believe Dale went along with such manipulation. He’d seemed like a decent, if boring, guy the few times we’d met at school-related events.
I’d turned over the pictures from Briar, which Pete said helped my case because it showed that Dale’s relationship with Jessica started while we were still married. Bill’s affidavit was on file now, too. I was waiting for the media to report that information, struggling with what I’d tell Mason.
Saturday night was our Seattle gig. I still didn’t know if
Dahlia was coming, and it was already Thursday. I pressed her number on my phone.
“Hey,” she said, picking up after the first ring. “Field trip day, right?”
She always asked about my day first.
“The kids are going to the aquarium. Mason’s going to come home wanting a shark or something equally impossible. Tell me about your writing.”
“Bev said she loved the story. She sent it to my publisher yesterday and also to Garcia and Paul.”
“When do I get to read it?”
She was quiet. The muscles in my neck tensed as I waited.
“I e-mailed you the file.”
“Excellent,” I said, smiling. The sky was overcast and the roads were snarled with traffic, but my day was fucking fantastic.
“Lie if you hate it.”
“I’m not going to lie to you, Dahlia. About anything. And I already know I won’t hate it. I read the genesis and it was amazing.”
She made a noncommittal sound, but I’d bet money she was blushing with pleasure.
“Any news on the miniseries?”
Dahlia’s smile slid through the phone, wrapping me in sunshine. “Casting’s started. Garcia and Paul asked me to come for the first day of filming. That’s in August.”
“Sounds cool.”
“I’m going to bring Abbi. She’ll be out of school, so we may make a week of it or something.”
I sucked my lip, considering my schedule. “Let me know when. Mason wants to see you both. Are you coming to the show Saturday?” I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know.
“I want to,” she said, her voice hesitant. “Abbi’s campaigning hard.”
“But?” I asked. I clutched the steering wheel. Shit, I really wanted her there.
“I don’t want our relationship to mess up your chances to get custody of Mason.”
“You can’t. You won’t. Please come. I told Simon to bring Jeremiah. Mason will be there.”
She was quiet. “I’m still so scared,” she said.
“Of what?”
“You’re building something with me but also with Abbi. What happens when you move on? This is my daughter’s heart, too.”
I exhaled slow and steady. This I could handle. Fix even. “I won’t hurt you, Dahlia. And I swear on Olivia’s grave I’ll never lie to you.”
The line was quiet for so long I wondered if I’d lost the connection.
“We’ll leave after Abbi gets out of school on Friday. I’ll call you when we’re on the road.”
“And when you get to Simon’s.”
“It’ll be late,” she said. Why she sounded startled I couldn’t begin to guess.
“All the more reason. I’ll worry about you. I’ve only ever worried about my kids. With you, it’s not a choice.”
She chuckled but it was watery. “Then I’ll call.”
“And be ready for an event.”
“Oh, I am.” Her voice was warm. “I expect a rocking performance.”
“No, earlier. I’m bringing Mason to Simon’s in the morning to hang out. He wants your waffles.”
I hung up to her laughter.
27
Dahlia
I’d texted Abbi during her lunch break to let her know the plan. She’d sent me back a message with more exclamation points than words.
So I was surprised when Abbi was quieter than usual when I picked her up Friday afternoon. She’d been quiet the night before, too. I’d expected her normal high-energy response and a fight when I told her Luke wasn’t invited because we were staying with Simon and Ella. She hadn’t argued over anything, just nodded. When I’d tried to get more out of her, she’d said she was tired and went to her room.
“Thanks for taking me to Seattle,” she said.
“What’s wrong?”
She leaned forward and flipped on the radio. A happy beat slammed around the car, followed by peppy voices talking about how some girl didn’t realize she was beautiful.
“Change the channel now, Abigail. You know how I feel about manufactured music. That’s for your ears alone.”
“Pfft. I’ve matured way beyond cute boy bands.”
“Since when?”
She propped her chin in her hands. “Since I understood heartache. Luke broke up with me yesterday.”
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Did he give you a reason?”
“Yeah, he’s going off to college and didn’t want to be tied down to a high schooler. Better to break up now than at the end of the summer when I cared about him even more.”
I patted her leg, my heart aching for my daughter. “He hurt you.”
“So I’m glad you decided we could go to Seattle. I totally need to get out of town. You know, to mend my broken heart. And because I don’t want to run into Luke. I might punch him. He broke up with me by changing his status on Facebook.” Her pretty, peaches-and-cream complexion mottled red as she frowned.
“That’s low.”
“Yeah. Sucks.”
I squeezed her hand. “I know, sweetie.”
“Do you think I can take lots of pictures with me hanging out with Asher and the band and plaster them all over my page? That’d make me feel a little better.”
“We’ll do what we can but remember we have to be careful about what we post. And Asher and I are just friends. We’ll definitely do some shopping before we come home. Retail therapy so that you look extra cute next time you see Luke. Maybe it’d help to talk to someone else. You want to call Asher?” I asked, my voice hesitant.
I knew Abbi talked to Asher regularly, mostly via text. She’d initiated the relationship, a painful reminder of how much she craved a father. I wasn’t sure how close they’d become. I hadn’t asked too many questions, fearful of the answer.
If Asher and I didn’t work out romantically, he’d feel weird about continuing a relationship with my daughter. But if we stayed friends, then Asher and Abbi could build the relationship she needed. Even if the thought of losing him romantically destroyed my ability to focus.
“I will in a minute,” she said. “I wanted to tell you first. Just think about how much worse Luke would feel if he saw me driving around town in a cute little convertible.”
“Not happening, daughter of mine.”
“Worth a try.” Abbi dialed. “Hey, Asher. Luke broke up with me yesterday. Mom seems to think you’ll make me feel better.”
My stomach quivered as I listened to Abbi talking to the man we’d come to depend on. In less than a minute, Abbi was laughing. From her next response, Asher must have asked if she was excited about her birthday. My throat felt tight. He’d remembered my daughter’s birthday with no prompting.
I was in so much trouble. I didn’t want to be friends. I wanted to rely on him as much as Abbi did. I tugged at the ends of my hair, wishing I’d been smart enough to back out while I had the chance. Before our walk. Because once I’d talked to him, really talked, I was in deep.
Abbi hung up the phone looking happier. “He’s the best, Mom.”
I sucked my bottom lip to keep the panic from bubbling out.
She turned to look at me. “Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, he is,” I said.
Asher arrived at eight the next morning. He hugged me, pressing a kiss to my temple before spinning Abbi into his arms. Dipping her with a dramatic flourish, he sang her happy birthday. Abbi laughed, her cheeks pink with excitement.
Simon and Ella joined us while Asher was singing. Mason and Jeremiah already had their heads bent over a book Mason had brought. Jeremiah’s dark hair was shorn short while Mason’s lighter brown was shaggier. The two boys were about the same height, but Jeremiah had his mother’s pale English skin that reddened in the sun. He was also missing one of his front teeth, which made me melt every time he smiled.
Asher spun Abbi one more time. Clearing his throat, he turned to Simon, who dipped his head. What was that about? Pulling a slim box from his back pocket, Asher’s eyes darted to mine
before settling back on Abbi’s excited face.
“I hear ladies like jewelry,” he said. His eyes sought mine. “Since your dad isn’t here to be the one to do this, I figured I’d step in.”
He looked so uncertain, my heart melted. Ella’s whimper drowned out the sound of my crumbling resistance.
Abbi grasped the box, her eyes bright. “Omigod, Asher, that was so freaking nice of you.”
“I don’t wrap well.” He shrugged. I mashed my lips together and locked my knees so I didn’t collapse at his feet. Who cared about the wrapping? He’d bought my daughter a gift.
Abbi opened the lid, flashing the silver Tiffany logo embossed on the cover. Sucking in a quick, sharp breath, Abbi hugged him. He patted her back with a gentle hand.
“Thank you.” Abbi’s voice was muffled against his chest. “You really are the best, and I love it.”
Asher smiled into her upturned face. My feet led me forward, and I pressed into his side. He curled his arm around my waist. I let the warmth from his skin saturate mine as I kissed the bottom of his jaw, the highest point I could reach.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice catching. I cleared my throat. “Let me see.”
With slow, careful movements, Abbi pulled out a delicate silver chain. A silver heart dangled from the end, bright blue gems flashing as it spun in a slow circle.
“Gorgeous,” Ella gasped.
I nodded as I cupped the pendant, bending forward for a better look. Asher’s cheeks built to a dull red as we crowded around Abbi’s present.
“I know sapphires aren’t your birthstone, but they remind me of your eyes.”
“Holy God, it’s a good thing you’re into Lia,” Ella said in a choked voice. “Otherwise I’d throw myself at you.”
Simon and I turned to frown at her, but Ella raised her hand, eyes wide. “He bought her real jewels, Simon. That’s knickers-dropping good.”
Abbi laughed, breaking the tension. “I’m not dropping my knickers, but I love it, Asher.”
Ella helped her put it on while Simon grumbled, his lips turning up in amusement.
I tipped my head toward Abbi, who was stroking the necklace. “Thank you for remembering her birthday,” I said to Asher. “Thank you for making it special.”
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