by Lisa Smartt
“Absolutely.”
She hung her head down low. I could hear a slight sniffle. “I guess my agent’s gonna be mad when I tell him I can’t do it.” She looked like a kid who’d forgotten her homework. She looked at me with tears in her eyes and anguish in her voice. “I have to find a way out of my contract and that won’t be easy.”
“Wait, you mean you’re not excited about being blackmailed by some Australian thugs? I didn’t even know Australia had a thug problem. Keith Urban and Nicole Kidman seem like such nice folks.”
She didn’t even laugh. She just looked out the window again. “No. I’m fine with the movie. But I can’t be in it. The shooting schedule and all, it just won’t work, not this fall anyway.”
“I’m missing something.”
She quietly turned toward me. The tears that had pooled in the corners of her beautiful brown eyes now fell without reservation. “I’m pregnant, Carlie.”
There are a lot of things Ashley could have said that wouldn’t have shocked me. She could have said she was tired of show biz. She could have said she needed a break. She could have said she’d finally decided to write that children’s book about the park near her childhood home. But pregnant?
I’m a word person. I usually try to talk people through things. But I was convinced this scenario required more action than conversation. So I carefully pulled the SUV onto the shoulder and put it in park. By the time I turned toward her, her gray t-shirt was wet with tears. I grabbed her left hand with both of mine and said the only thing I could think of, “I love you.”
She stopped sniffling and started wailing. I found an old Kleenex box in the backseat and she blew her nose until it was red. I sat silently just patting her back or holding her hand. I knew she would talk when she was ready.
Finally she spoke quietly, “You’re not gonna say anything?”
“I’m waiting for you.”
She wiped her eyes. “Well, it’s a long, stupid story.”
“Why don’t I get back on the interstate and head toward home. I’m all ears.” I pulled back onto I-40.
Ashley stopped crying and took a deep breath. She opened a water bottle from between the seats. “It’s Blake. I mean, I guess you figured that out. About a month after you left, he knocked on my door one night and it was the sweetest thing. Really. He said he started out thinking of me as a colleague, a fellow actor. How he’d planned to shoot the movie and not get involved with anyone. He even told me about the old girlfriend and how that had all gone so very wrong. She didn’t understand the business, the weird schedules and appearances. But I did understand. Then he said he was tired of fighting, fighting the way he felt about me, that he was crazy about me, that he couldn’t sleep at night. Plus, he said we had so many things in common, maybe it was all meant to be, y’know?”
Ashley looked down as though she were embarrassed. “And I believed him too. I was totally beside myself with joy ‘cause I knew exactly what he meant. I felt the same way about him and had for several weeks. We kissed a little and I agreed to talk with him the next day after supper. That whole next day of shooting was magical. We had to do these sweet romantic scenes and it was like the whole set came alive. I wasn’t acting anymore. I knew he wasn’t either. Even the make-up girl made a comment about it. After supper, we met out by one of the lake areas. I told him about Cliff, how he was the only man I’d ever loved, the only one I’d ever been with, the only man I would be with until I got married again. Most Hollywood men or any man for that matter would have seriously run for the hills. Not Blake. He didn’t even act shocked. In fact, he agreed. Said he and his last girlfriend had gotten into a bad pattern but he wanted to mend his ways. That he understood the order of things now, and hearing me talk about it made him respect me even more. I think that evening by the lake was one of the happiest times of my life.” She wiped her face with her bare hand and tears reappeared. “It’s so stupid. I actually believed we’d be married by the time we finished shooting or at least engaged.”
I tried to sound supportive. “Are you engaged?”
“Hardly. It was all just a challenge for him. Not only did I compromise my convictions, I compromised with someone who doesn’t even have convictions. A few weeks after the lake conversation, we’d had a particularly hard day of shooting. It was late at night and no one was around. I knew we were going too far. It’s like I didn’t care anymore. I was lonely. He was lonely. He told me he loved me, that he would always and forever love me. And I deemed that enough. I mean, he was the first man since Cliff to say that.”
“Those are powerful words.”
“Right. But they were just words. And no one was there to say, ‘Hey, you guys might be making a mistake.’ No. People left us alone. We’re grown-ups, right? Well, I am anyway. Turns out Blake is a 26-year-old kid.”
“I didn’t know he was that young. He looks a little older.”
“Yeah. I didn’t know either. I felt bad the next morning, but it wasn’t just about what we’d done. Everything between us had changed. Instantly. He wasn’t being loving or kind. We were in his room, but he acted like I was an intruder, like I was suffocating him. We were supposed to feel closer to each other, right? I started questioning myself. Was I not good enough? Had I been a disappointment to him in some way? We had to shoot some scenes together that day but the director was yelling at us, saying neither of us were on our game. I think he knew we’d been messin’ around. After supper Blake said he was tired and maybe we could spend time together later in the week. But later never came. Within a few days, I realized he was done with me. I would have left right then if it hadn’t been for my contract. I’m serious. I would have given all the money back just to never have to face him again. But we both had to finish the movie. We were obligated. It was the worst two months of my life. We literally didn’t speak to each other off camera. Tense is an understatement. So much for the always and forever love. I was completely rejected.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Within two weeks of our night together, he was already involved with the local bar tender. Told some of the extras a man couldn’t be expected to resist an Irish accent. But trust me, her accent wasn’t the appeal. Everyone began to feel sorry for me. A few weeks after that, he put the moves on the sister of our make-up artist, who was only on set for a week. Evidently his ‘I respect your values and I share them’ speech was just a speech. I was just another conquest. Once he had me, he no longer wanted me. I wasn’t good enough.”
Anger was rising. “He’s the one who’s not good enough. I guess that’s about the time you realized you were pregnant?”
“No. I didn’t even think about it at first. I’ve never been very regular. When Cliff and I got married the doctor said I could have some fertility issues. Of course, we were so young and it didn’t matter. I knew Blake and I hadn’t used birth control. I guess there was a chance, but I figured it was still unlikely. I mean, it was just the one time.” She blew her nose hard and her voice was cracking. “Gosh, now I’m sounding like some stupid teenager in a health class video. Anyway, a few weeks ago, I started throwing up and losing weight. Most people assumed I’d just been dieting too severely. But I knew the truth. I took the test two weeks ago.”
“And I take it Blake’s reaction was pretty negative.”
“He doesn’t know.”
“What?”
“He doesn’t know. Look, he’s not a good guy. He doesn’t even love me. Trust me. He’d be a lousy father. It’s better this way.”
“Ashley, you can’t do this. Good guy or not, he’s this baby’s biological father. He has the right to know.”
She looked out the window and spoke as though she’d just finished a marathon and needed a rest. “I know. I know. Just give me a little time. Please. I’m not even twelve weeks yet. Give me one week to just hang out at your house and rest. I promise by the end of the week, I’ll have a plan. A plan to tell him.”
“I can do that. Sorry about this whole de
al. Really sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I signed up for this one. Big time.”
“Yeah, but I can still be sorry you signed up for it. Right?”
She smiled and leaned her head on my shoulder. “Thank you. What would I do without you?”
I handed her a pillow from the back seat. Within a few minutes, she was sound asleep. Jet lag from International travel was a particular kick in the pants. Plus, she was carrying a baby now. It was still unbelievable. It made me think about the bald reporter that thought she was carrying twins. We all thought it was so preposterous. But no.
Chapter 25 CARLIE: Wasted Days and Wasted Nights
Ashley’s body clock was completely off kilter but she was determined to come to church with us the next morning, saying she needed to get back to some foundations in life. Doug and I had made sure no one knew she was in town. Even Uncle Bart and Aunt Charlotte were in the dark. If they had known she was coming, in a completely non-malicious way, Aunt Charlotte would have told Mabel who would have told Irene and The National Inquirer would have been in Sharon within 30 minutes. It was best to just walk in the back door of the sanctuary.
When I knocked on the guest room door to wake her, I got no response. That’s when I heard her in the hall bathroom. Bless her heart. I too had thrown up every day during the first few months of pregnancy. I knew her pain all too well. She tried to plaster a smile on her face as she walked toward the coffee pot. “Good morning, all.”
James screamed, “Ashwee, Ashwee!!”
“Hey Sport! How’s it goin’?”
“Gwavy! Daddy made me gwavy!!”
“Yes, I see that.” Her face grew pale and she excused herself to the bathroom once more.
Doug looked at me and shrugged a silent apology as he drank his coffee and read the paper. He hadn’t thought about morning sickness when he’d filled the house with the aroma of sausage and gravy. Ashley wanted no one to know about the pregnancy, but she understood my need to tell Doug. So when everyone was in bed, I told him the whole story. His response was similar to when we found Dave stone drunk on his front porch. Compassionate. Wondering what we could do to make things better. Grieving all that was lost.
I jumped up and quickly disposed of all the sausage and gravy makings. We had long ago finished breakfast and clearly, sausage and gravy wasn’t going to be on Ashley’s breakfast menu. By the time she came out of the bathroom, I was offering saltines or dry toast. She reluctantly picked the saltines and a cup of black coffee.
By the time she showered and dressed, the morning sickness had passed and she looked like beautiful healthy Ashley again. She wore a solid black long-sleeved cotton dress with a flared skirt and a multi-colored belt around her ever-shrinking waist. Ironically, she looked thinner than I had ever seen her. Thin and carrying a baby.
Unlike her last visit, this morning the church parking lot contained only the regulars filing routinely into unmarked spaces. When Aunt Charlotte caught sight of Ashley getting out of the backseat, she ran full-bore across the parking lot. Her bright green double-knit dress was so tight and her slip showed at least two inches out the back. An old black purse with a brass buckle was flopping up and down in rhythmic motion with her massive breasts as she ran. “The Lord done been good to us! He brought one of ours back home from a foreign land! Oh Child, let me look at you!” Ashley reached down for a big hug. Aunt Charlotte was the epitome of comfort and reliability. She always wore Chantilly dusting powder. She always wore her clothes too tight. And she always loved. Deeply.
“I’ve missed you, Aunt Charlotte. I’ve missed you!”
“Oh Honey, we’ve missed you too. Good to see you. Are you crying? Baby, are you crying?”
Ashley wiped the tear. “I’m just glad to be back in Sharon. That’s all.”
Doug had gotten James from his car seat and I’d grabbed the diaper bag. But the minute we headed toward the church door, James yelled, “Ashwee, hold me!” Ashley happily reached out to him and cradled his head in her hand. Then he looked across the asphalt and yelled, “Cowin! Cowin!”
Ashley startled and then stood completely still as she watched Dave reach into the back seat for Collin. He stood up straight and gently brushed Collin’s hair from his forehead. He placed him on the ground and held his hand while reaching into the backseat for the diaper bag. Without looking up, he yelled across the parking lot. “We’re coming, James. We’re coming!” As he approached our car, he finally looked up. And there she was. He’d thought it was just a regular Sunday. Collin and James would greet each other loudly. He’d sit on the fifth row next to Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Bart. He’d eat dinner with Doug and me. But no. Her presence changed everything.
His face flushed a little as he approached us. He looked even better than the last time she was here. He’d completely stopped drinking and gained about fifteen needed pounds. He wore dark pants and a bright blue long-sleeved shirt. Every single woman in town swooned for him. Some of them had even gone so far as to transfer their bank accounts with the hopes of seeing him on a regular basis. He’d gone out with Karen Simpson a few times. But she moved to Indiana a few months ago to work at a bigger law firm. He didn’t seem remotely devastated.
It was odd, how he smiled so kindly at Ashley. He’d opened up to her, told her he missed her…and she never wrote again. Cold turkey. But he still smiled and greeted her as though she were a good friend. “Looks like someone’s returned to the homeland.”
“I have! I just hope someone’s made cabbage for lunch! My culinary standards have changed, y’know.”
Dave grinned. “Yeah, that right there is why you never hear a hungry person say, ‘Let’s go out for Irish.’”
She laughed, “Hey now!” She placed James carefully on the ground and reached out for a hug. He let go of Collin’s hand and wrapped both arms around her and held her longer than seemed necessary. She pulled away and when she did, her face turned a bright shade of red. “How are you, Dave? You look good.”
“I am good. You look good too, Ashley.” His eyes locked in on hers and for a minute, I think he forgot where he was, what he was doing, that he needed to get Collin’s hand, and that Ashley had stopped writing to him.
She broke the silence as she stooped down, “Collin, how are you, Buddy? You’ve grown since I saw you last. You’re a big boy now.”
Dave may have forgotten where he was. But Ashley, she didn’t forget. She didn’t forget Dave’s declaration that he missed her. She didn’t forget that she never wrote him back. She didn’t forget the night with Blake Blanton. She didn’t forget about the baby. “We better get inside, I guess.”
Uncle Bart had started guarding the door when he realized Ashley had returned. He didn’t want a repeat of the last fiasco with reporters and overall craziness. She hugged him and said, “It’s a wonder I’ve been able to go anywhere without you, Uncle Bart. You always make things better.” A few young people approached her and many of the adults asked about Ireland. But it stayed calm and contained. As they entered the back of the sanctuary, Ashley followed behind Dave. She waved at people and hugged a few fans who cautiously approached her.
Dave sat on his regular Row 5. He asked Aunt Charlotte to scoot over a bit, knowing Ashley would sit down beside him. But she didn’t. She sat across the aisle next to Amanda Watts, a chubby teenage girl, who was telling her all about their drama club and the plans to do Fiddler on the Roof. And how she desperately hoped to be cast as one of the daughters.
Observing all this from the back of the room, I saw heartbreak on Dave’s face. He hadn’t a clue why it had all gone so wrong. Or maybe he did. He probably figured Blake Blanton had swept Ashley off her feet. He probably thought she was in love and simply regarded him as an old friend now. But none of it was true. Ashley doesn’t love Blake Blanton. She doesn’t regard Dave as an old friend either. But she believes she’s burned all her bridges. I held out hope that one bridge still stood.
When Dusty, Clara, and family walked down the
center aisle, Ashley stood and said, “Now there’s a good lookin’ family!”
Clara turned and embraced her like a long-lost sorority sister. “Oh Ashley, you’ve got to meet our crew. This is Will, Mandy, and Molly. Guys, this is our dear friend, Ashley Harrison.”
Will piped up, “You’re a movie star.”
Ashley put her hand out to shake his. “That’s what they tell me. And I hear you’re a good baseball player.”
He grinned as though he’d won a Nobel Peace Prize. “I am!”
Ashley looked at Dusty and Clara, “I’m so happy for you both! Really! And Mandy and Molly, what do you girls like to do when brother is busy playing baseball?”
Mandy said quietly, “I like to play dolls and horses.”
“Oh, I loved dolls when I was little. I used to hold the dolls and tuck them into little homemade beds and pretend they were my babies.”
Molly spoke up, “Do you have a real baby?”
“I don’t.”
“That’s good ‘cause babies are loud and messy. And they can’t even talk.”
“Well, you talk very well.” She patted Molly and Mandy. “I think a whole lot of your mom and dad too. They’re very special people.”
Brother Dan stood and in honor of Ashley’s presence, he began the service with a firm reminder about not taking cell phone pictures in the sanctuary. “Uncle Bart doesn’t want his handsome bad boy image to go viral on Facebook or Twitter.” The crowd laughed.
Ashley sat back down by Amanda. She glanced over at Dave a few times. He glanced at her too. How I wished Blake Blanton had never been from Missouri. He was so convincing…we all forgot he was an actor.
In honor of Ashley’s arrival, Doug and I invited Uncle Bart, Aunt Charlotte, Dusty, Clara, and the kids, Dave and Collin, and Brother Dan and Margaret to our house for Sunday lunch. Only we were going to have take-out pizza instead of roast beef and potatoes. I felt certain MeeMaw would forgive this travesty to my southern upbringing.