He looked even better than I remembered from yesterday. His cargo pants were tight around his butt, a black tee-shirt squeezing his biceps into submission. He had on a black ball cap facing forward that shadowed his face.
I stared at the two of them standing together, talking as if they knew each other. They had to have. Asher wouldn't just run up and talk to a random person. I warned him about strangers over the summer when we walked everywhere. I pushed the cart towards them on a mission to figure out what the hell was going on.
Luke must have noticed me because his head shot up. Both his eyes lingered on mine, wide and in shock, until they dropped back down to Asher. He looked between the two of us, trying to find a connection, just as I looked at the two of them, trying to find their connection.
"What's going on here?" I asked when I was right in front of them. My voice sounded light and airy, not jittery like I felt inside. I dug my fingers into the cart handle to stop them from tingling.
"Mom, this is Mr. Wilson, my gym teacher!" Asher said, knocking me backwards as he tackled me, hugging around my waist. The mom thing again. I had to ask him what the sudden name change was all about. It almost felt like a punch to the gut every time the three letter word was uttered.
"You're a gym teacher?" I asked in disbelief, unable to hide the snark in my voice.
"Indeed I am," Luke said. His voice didn't give him away at all, and neither did his face. He was completely shielded, a blank slate. His eyes narrowed on me, refusing to actually make eye contact—they were always in front of me or behind me. The way his brows pinched tighter made me feel like he was thinking too hard.
"Well, we gotta go, Ash." I took his hand in mine and started to turn around and get out of there the way I came. The cart scraped against the floor as I one-handedly spun us around. Stupid wheel was shaky.
"Bye, Mr. Wilson!" Asher yelled over his shoulder as he let me lead him back up the aisle.
I turned, wanting Luke to say something else, but he didn't. Instead, he just stood there in the same exact place, not moving or speaking. Disappointed, I turned the corner, pushing the cart and Luke out of my head.
Chapter Nine
Maggie
The closest hockey rink with a fall league was an hour and a half away. I found my nails grinding into the steering wheel of the car more times than not as I made the drive. Between the cost of the league, gas, and time it took, I found myself frustrated and financially spent. But Asher's one passion in life was hockey.
His skills in the sport surpassed most other nine-year-olds by a long shot. I didn't like to use my parents' money, but this particular league cost five hundred dollars up front with no payment plan options. I had to borrow from the account they set up for me. Other than the hockey withdrawals, I hadn't touched a single cent.
I couldn't bring myself to use it despite the need. It was tainted and dirty. I could do this by myself. I didn't need handouts or their constant help that would only serve as a reminder to how ruthless and uncaring they were. If I really needed it, I'd use it. But until then, I was fine with the house and using it for Asher's sports.
I pulled into the rink parking lot, finding a spot right near the cross walk. Asher was more silent than usual. He stared out the window, sucking his thumb. I could understand his nervousness since it was his first practice. Not only that but he made the U10 team. He always worried about fitting in.
I knew how awful kids could be. My heart hurt for him, and I just wanted to help him make friends. I used to be one of those shitty kids that was so insecure they felt the need to put down others.
Whether they were threatened by him being so young, or just didn't like him, I wasn't sure. But last year the kids weren't the nicest to Asher, teasing him for everything from being a baby to saying he was a poor player. But he stuck the season out like the champion he was, all because hockey was his love.
I cut the ignition and hopped out of the car. Asher stayed inside as I walked towards the back and popped the trunk. His large black bag was unzipped, equipment spilling out, so I shoved everything inside and shut it. I threw the bag over my shoulder and shut the trunk.
I pulled open his door, and he jumped in his seat. "Come on, buddy. We're right on time." He widened his eyes as if he was in a deep sleep and then smiled up at me. He hopped out of the car with his new stick in his hands and stared up at me with those neon green eyes. I loved this kid. I grabbed his chin, lifted it up, and kissed his cheek.
I nodded towards the main entrance and led the two of us towards the large brick building. This place would become a second home over the next few months. I hiked the bag over my back and looked over towards the river.
Sometimes I worried that this place was going to get drowned when a heavy storm rolled through. The red brick walls pressed right up against the Shelton River. Even stranger, despite the river not really moving, it never iced over. I looked over my shoulder to make sure that Asher was still with me.
The sliding doors opened for us, and we entered the cold area, not sure where to go. The ground was like a galaxy, black with multicolored speckles coating it. They used this crappy foam flooring so skates wouldn't get dull when kids walked across it. A white board propped against the white wall told us where to go.
U10: Locker room C
I didn't go into the locker room with him. Instead, I passed off his bag, knowing that he liked to carry it to the room himself. The bag was just about as tall as him and probably weighed something close.
He started to walk through another set of sliding glass doors, the bag completely shielding his body, but he suddenly stopped. He dropped his bag and placed the stick on top of it and ran back to my side. Burying his head in my stomach, he started murmuring things I couldn't understand and rubbing his head against me like a needy kitten.
"Buddy, what's wrong?" I bent down so that we were face to face and grabbed onto his shoulders.
"What if I suck? We didn't play much this summer, and I could have gotten worse," he explained. His green eyes filled with tears, his bottom lip beginning to tremble.
"Seriously, Ash. You're the best kid out there, you know that. You're going to be just like Gretzky. I'm here if you need me, but you're going to be amazing." I hoped I was saying the right words to make him confident. His innocent eyes met mine, full of questions.
"Okay. Can you sit in the middle?"
"Of course." I nodded. "Go on," I said, patting his butt as he turned to go.
"Love you, Mom."
"Love you too, buddy," I said back, trying to understand this recent name change. I didn't get it, but I didn't want to push anything until I asked our therapist, Dr. Cohen.
Five minutes before practice began, I walked into the downstairs rink and sat in the middle of the bleachers like I had promised. I was able to watch him with ease. His passion translated into his game, and it was obvious that this was his calling in life. Of course, it helped that he played like a superstar.
I didn't get why Asher became so nervous. If anything, he had only improved over the summer. He could skate circles around these ten-year-olds like it was no problem. I brought him to enough Sticks and Pucks at all the local rinks.
When practice ended, I headed into the warming hut, which really wasn't that much warmer than the rink. They had a small concession stand, and I grabbed a coffee for a dollar.
I sat on a bench by myself, leaning against the window. My mind had gone numb from my excruciatingly long day. I couldn't even dwell on what I had to do when I got home. I could've fallen asleep with how long it took Asher to undress. He was always the last one out of the locker room. I could understand why, since there was so much equipment to take on and off. His new coach exited through the double doors and stopped right in front of me.
"Hello, Mrs. Larken. I wanted to talk to you about Asher." The man was large, probably in his mid-forties. I stood up, not wanting the conversation to be awkward, and ran my hand through my knotty hair.
"Sure, what's going on?"
/> "I'm sure you saw, but he was really great today." He paused and I nodded, wanting him to get to the point. "I was thinking maybe I could try him out on our U12 team."
"U12? Really?"
"Normally, I would ask him first, but I wanted to get the okay from his parents. If you didn't know, U12 allows checking," Coach said.
"Oh." I sighed, knowing nothing would make Asher happier than to be on a team that pushed and challenged him. "Can I think about it?" I asked.
"Sure, talk it over with your husband. Here's my card. You can call me." I hated when people made assumptions, but I couldn't blame him. "You've got a talented kid," he said while walking away.
"Thanks," I muttered, shaking my head as I tried to think this through.
When we got home from practice, I ran in and set the table for a snack. It was nine-fifteen, but after practice, I was sure he was hungry. I whipped up some quick peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and laid them out at the kitchen table.
"Ready, Ash!" I yelled. Asher smelled like a normal child again, soapy and clean, with his hair wet and still dripping. He was no longer my sweat-laden mongrel.
"I wanted to talk to you," I said after he sat down at the table. He groaned, but I kept going. "You've started calling me Mom. Is there a reason or…" I trailed off not knowing what else to say. My stomach tilted as I debated my next words.
"I don't know. You don't want me to?" His voice sounded broken, and he seemed much younger than he was as he looked up at me through his dark lashes.
"No, of course I do. I just wanted to know the sudden reason." The last thing I wanted was to hurt his feelings or make it seem like it wasn't okay. I reached across the table and grabbed his hand.
"Everyone at school talks about their moms, and I don't want to say 'Maggie' 'cause that's stupid. I just think you're my mom more than our real mom was before anyway. I'm sorry."
He broke my heart. I knew our mom wasn't in the picture much for me, but I just always assumed Asher knew she loved him. I had hoped that she changed, or tried to do better with him.
"Mom loved you, you know."
"Not as much as you do."
"Nobody loves you as much as I do." I grabbed him around the shoulders and tugged him towards me. I planted hundreds of loud kisses on his cheeks and neck until he giggled, little bubbles of joy emanating from him. "I have something else I want to say, too."
"What?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and rolling his green eyes. I could tell he was over these heavy conversations. I settled him on my lap and ran my fingernails up and down his back in his favorite way. The boy loved tickles.
"Your coach wants to move you up to U12," I said, staring at him, wanting to see the look on his face. Of course, his eyes widened in disbelief, but I nodded my head so he knew I was serious.
"What'd you say?"
"I said we'd talk about it. There's checking. I don't know if you're ready for that." I didn't want to put him down. But the thought of him getting hit by other, bigger, boys made my palms sweat.
"I'm ready, I swear! I can do it!" He jumped off of me and spun in a circle through the small kitchen. He danced like I'd never seen him dance before, skipping and playing and twirling around.
"Are you sure? It's a big commitment. You'll have a game every weekend."
"I swear, I'm ready. Call him now! Please, please, please!" Asher leaped his way into the living room and bent down, grabbing my cheap cellphone from my bag and tossing it towards me. I couldn't help but laugh at his excitement.
"You sure?"
"I'm positive."
"If your grades start dropping, I will pull you from the team. I'm not joking."
"I know!" He furrowed his brow and glared at me, pursing his lips.
"If you get hurt, I'll pull you, too. These are going to be big boys."
"I know!" He glared at me harder, his eyes just narrowed slits, begging me to stop talking.
I smiled. "Get my bag."
He quickly retrieved it and set in front of me on the table. I fished the business card out of the outer pocket and dialed the number on the coach's card.
The call was fast. He was very excited to have Asher try out his team. I could hear a crying baby in the background, wailing as a woman chattered. He called me a Mrs. again, which was annoying, but I let it go because the smile on Asher's face was contagious.
I hung up the phone and told Asher the big news. He reached down and took my hands in his, spinning us in a circle like playing ring-around-the-rosy in the kitchen. He was singing the song as we skipped and sashayed around our small place, laughing together.
I dove into the freezer and pulled out a carton of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice-cream. I didn't even bother getting out the bowls. Instead, I grabbed two spoons, and Asher and I each got five bites before I put it away.
Asher scurried into the living room as I cleaned up the kitchen. When I looked at the clock on the wall, I saw that it was ten. It was way past time for Asher to go to bed, and I'm sure he knew it.
He was watching Nick at Night, his eyes dangerously close to falling shut. I couldn't carry him up today, too tired from the day of constant movement, so I shook him awake.
"Come on. Let's head up." I reached down and took both of his hands, lifting him off the couch. He shuffled up the stairs while I followed behind, making sure he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When I saw that he was, I went to my room and changed into pajamas.
I found him standing in front of his closet, not moving at all. Laughing, I grabbed his clothes from his dresser and did all the work. He was a complete zombie, nearly asleep while standing. I pulled his shirt off and put pajamas on him.
I walked him to his bed, and he fell down, face-first into the stack of pillows. He laughed and scooted across the small bed to the other side, closest to the window. He patted the space beside him, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to get in. I was exhausted but still had work to do.
But I crawled in anyway, knowing it was what he wanted. I pulled the covers over the both of us. He was already asleep when I faced him. And then I followed, his soft breaths soothing.
Chapter Ten
Maggie
"Hey, hey, hey!" June's voice was electric as I walked into class the next day. I found a seat next to her, a desk back from the very first day of classes. I was right next to the door. I smiled at her while I took a notebook out of my bag and prepared for class.
"What are you doing this weekend?"
"I'm busy," I responded. I didn't want to have to explain my situation. I didn't want to have to say why I didn't go out anymore. Not many people could understand why a twenty-three year old couldn't have fun.
"Liar. You should come with me," she said, perking up more and more to the idea. She leaned over the center aisle, tapping her finger on my desk. "Seriously, I don't have many friends. I like you. I think we should hang out."
"I really can't. I have a lot going on." I pretended to write something down on the paper, hoping that she'd drop her nagging. I realized my other hand was pinching the lower hem of my navy blue v-neck tee.
"Listen, I get it. You've got your brother and all—"
"Excuse me?"
"Shit, sorry." June leaned back, putting as much distance between us as possible. The draw together expression on her face told me that she knew more than she was letting on.
"How do you know about him?"
"It's public knowledge. You do realize we live in a small ass town."
"You know about my parents?" I asked her, praying that she didn't. They were terrible people. I didn't even want to be associated with them, but in situations like this, it was impossible to get away.
"Yeah…" she answered, but it wasn't as sure as before.
"Fuck," I muttered, gathering my things before storming out of the class. I ran towards the doors, wanting to get fresh air. But if I was honest with myself, I just needed a smoke. It was impossible to run from my problems.
I sat down on the fi
rst bench I could find and lit up fast, savoring the high of the first drag. I realized as I was sitting there that I probably just screwed up the first possible friend I could've had.
"Do you want me to go?" I looked up and saw June standing to the side of me. Her bag was in her hand, and I knew that she followed me from class, knowing that we'd be skipping.
"No. I'm sorry," I told her, wanting to apologize for my erratic behavior. I shook my head, unsure of what to say to her. I didn't want to divulge my life story, but I didn't want to turn her off either. "I just hate talking about them. I hoped I could just ignore that they ever existed."
"I get it. I hate my parents, too." Silence enveloped me, strangling me so much that I couldn't breathe. Thank God, June spoke up, cutting the tension. "I still want you to come out with me. You kind of owe me now." She laughed under her breath and leveled me with a cutting glare.
One night out shouldn't hurt.
"So, you smoke?" June asked as I tried to blow the smoke away from her. The air was light today, no breeze at all. However, there was an underlying chill that startled the green leaves and crept up on me, reminding me that fall was on its way.
"Unfortunately," I growled. "I quit when I took over custody of Asher. But with all the stress, I ended up getting back into it. It's a bad habit."
"Will you tell me about your situation?"
"I don't really know what there is to say. Asher and I live together. I'm basically his mother, between being there for him and paying for everything. Technically I have custody of him and adopted him. It's not an easy job, and not one I was ready for when my parents died, but I would never trade it in. He's the best kid around. He deserved more than my parents anyway."
"Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I had different parents."
"What do you mean?" I asked her, flicking my cigarette butt. I watched it arc and land beside an evergreen bush.
For The Love of Ash Page 7