“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.”
“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 why she had no intention 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. Had it only been a matter of hours since her life had fallen apart? She felt as though she’d been fed through a roller, squeezed of all emotion and energy. She wondered if she turned sideways and looked into the mirror, there’d be nothing left of her but a thin little line.
What did one wear to have the most difficult conversation of one's life? Did she pull on something comfortable, to remind herself that no matter what happened, she'd still be all right? Did she wear something stunning, to make up for the shake in her voice? Or something familiar, to remind the other person that, really, she was the same person as yesterday?
She sighed and reached for her favorite blue tank top, the one with the silver stripe across the front that made her feel a little like a retro Wonder Woman whenever she pulled it on. Not that it mattered. Eddie didn’t care what she wore. He never had. It was one of the many reasons she liked him so much.
For the last two hours, his stereo downstairs had blasted raucous, heavy metal music. 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 and 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.
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. She pulled back the blinds of the front window and 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 stuck a hand out the window and flipped it off so fast, Ash imagined he meant the middle finger 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. She'd give him his space. “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. 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 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 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 mewed on the other side of the door.
Three times, though she knew by now he wasn’t home yet.
I’m going to Frank’s. If Eddie’s mad at me, fine. But she needed to tell her side of the story. And she needed to do that today, tonight, before they woke up tomorrow with another twelve hours of anger between them.
The drive to the shop took less than five minutes, but still her insides had 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 knob. 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 5.
Thursday Nights and Saturday Afternoons: By Appt. Only.
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 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 have been gone ever since.”
Chapter Twent
y-One
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.
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 ahead 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.
They could 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? 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. “For old time's sake?”
He shrugged. “Sure.” What else did he have to do tonight but get rip-roaring drunk? “Tequila. And two cheeseburgers,” he told the bartender. “One with the works. One with ketchup only.”
Cass smiled sideways at him. “You remembered.” Her hand slid up Eddie’s leg. Of course he remembered. He remembered every damn thing. That was the problem.
***
Ash lay face down on her bed, listening to Paradise’s only jazz station. She should have told Marty she’d take an extra shift. Or she should have stopped down there anyway, had a beer, and listened to J.T.’s stupid jokes. Anything to get out of the house. Anything to keep her mind off what had happened that morning.
Instead she’d eaten cold pizza around seven and crawled into bed. She’d pulled the blinds down tight, not wanting a sliver of light to sneak in and brighten her mood. Now the room pressed down with heavy, unpleasant humidity. She tried to take a breath and tasted stale cotton. Tucking rumpled blankets around her shoulders, she turned to face the wall. The blues rolled over her, thick as murky midnight, and she gave in to tears.
Cass. He went to Cass. She couldn’t stop replaying Frank’s words and the awful, pitying expression on the man’s face. Worse, she couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie’s ex-girlfriend, with the red hair and the tight clothes and the come-hither look she didn’t bother to hide.
He dated her once. It only made sense that he’d go back to her. What guy wouldn’t want a woman who looked like that? She drew a forearm across her face and told herself to stop crying.
“…and that was Miles Davis, with his classic rendition of ‘Bye Bye Blackbird,’” the DJ said. “To all you lonely lovers out there, this next one’s for you…”
Ash looked at the clock. Ten minutes to twelve. She shut off the radio and listened. Nothing but silence from the apartment below. No music patterning the floor with vibrations. No kitten paws racing around the hardwood. No laughter. No voices. Nothing at all.
She fell back against the pillows. “Maybe Dad’s right. Maybe Colin’s right. Maybe there really is nothing here for me.”
What was the point in staying? She supposed part of her had always known that she’d have to go back to Boston. She just didn’t think it would be this soon. Well, tomorrow she'd give Marty two weeks’ notice. That should give him enough time to find another night manager. By then, the summer would be almost over, and they could sublet her apartment to someone else. If she told Helen she’d be out by mid-August, maybe the landlord could rent to a college student. Ash rolled over and tried to slow her breath, to still her heartbeat, to find a rhythm that would carry her toward sleep. And she tried not to think of all the things she’d miss when she said goodbye.
***
“Shit.” Eddie stumbled off his barstool and spilled a bowl of peanuts onto the floor.
Cass leaned against him. Her perfume wafted up and reminded him of other days, earlier days, when he’d breathed in that scent and wanted more, always more, of it. “You can’t drive home.”
“No kidding.” Double-shit. He hadn’t meant to get so slobbering drunk. He’d just wanted a few shots, some beers to chase them down, something to mellow him out so he could forget Ashley Kirtland. Or Ashton Kirk. Or whatever the hell her name really was.
“There’s a motel next block over,” offered the bartender. “I can call you a cab.”
Cass wound her arm through Eddie’s and tugged him toward the door. “The motel’ll be fine,” she said over her shoulder. “We can walk.”
Outside, the air felt good as Eddie drew it into his lungs. Fresh. Clean. Forgiving. Everything he wasn’t. The rain had stopped, though puddles still dotted the pavement. He lifted the two helmets off the back of Frank’s bike.
“I gotta text Frank, tell him I’ll get the Harley back tomorrow.”
Cass pressed her hand against his. “You already did. About an hour ago.”
“Really?” Eddie rubbed his forehead and tried to remember. He pulled out his cell phone and checked. “Oh. Yeah.”
“There’s the motel.” Cass pointed across the street.
A few hundred yards away, Eddie could make out the blur of a neon sign. “Vacancy,” he read. “We’ll get two rooms.”
The redhead put one hand on a hip. “Like hell we will.” She snuggled herself under his arm. “You need some comforting, Eddie West. I don’t know who broke your heart, or how she did it, but tonight you need some grade-A ex-girlfriend lovin’, and that’s exactly what I’m gonna give you.” She slipped a hand inside his back pocket.
Eddie didn’t answer, just started to walk. What he really needed was a soft bed and about a thousand hours of sleep. Then, in the morning, he’d let some greasy home fries ease his hangover while he went about shoveling the pieces of his heart under the carpet. He glanced over. But hey, if a woman like Cassandra Perkins wanted to keep herself warm beside him in the meantime, he wasn’t sure h
e had any objections.
Not tonight, anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Consciousness came slowly, working its way into Ash’s bedroom on leaden feet.
I’m still in Paradise, she thought after a minute of staring at the ceiling. For now, anyway. A blink at the clock and a long swig of water reminded her of last night’s decision. She’d give Blues and Booze two more weeks. But no more.
She swung her feet over the edge of the bed. Though nearly nine, no light came through her blinds. She padded across the room and peered outside. Rain spit against her windows, not heavy, just steady.
“Great. Another stupid, gray day.” Just what she needed to match her mood. Ash headed for the bathroom, glad she’d taken a lunch shift to fill up the empty afternoon. I’ll tell Marty when I get there. She eased her way under the shower’s hot spray. No reason to call him earlier. He’d throw enough of a fit as it was.
She felt more than a little guilty about leaving Blues and Booze, especially since she’d been running the place a couple nights a week, but what was she supposed to do?
This place has nothing to offer you…
“Dad’s right,” she said aloud. The sooner she went back to Boston and faced down her demons, the better. She had a degree from one of the top law schools in the country. She knew of a half-dozen firms in the city who’d give their eyeteeth to hire a Harvard grad, especially one with the last name Kirk. She’d have no problem working herself back into that way of life. And if her father and her family needed her, then it was about time she stopped acting like a spoiled child with her heart broken. She was twenty-six, not sixteen. She needed to get it together and go to Martha’s Vineyard. What’s the worst that can happen?
Ash turned off the shower in time to hear her phone ring.
Eddie. The thought that it might be him shot adrenaline straight into her soul. He’s calling to talk. He wants to make up. It wasn't too late after all. She wrapped a towel around her head and grabbed her robe. All thoughts of Boston and her father and the Vineyard fled. Still wet, she skated into the living room.
Summer on Main Street Page 72