For The Love of Ash

by Taylor Lavati

  "Hi!" The woman I spoke to last time came over to me, smiling ear to ear. I looked up at her and noticed again how beautiful she was, with long dark crazy hair and the brightest blue eyes ever.

  "Hi, how are you?" I asked as she sat beside me on the bench. I looked away from the rink and faced her. She was the first person from the team to be nice to me, really the only one.

  "I'm doing good. How about yourself?" she asked. She had a strange accent. It wasn't really an accent, but she spoke very formally. Despite her speech, she seemed like she was laid back.

  "I'm great. Still nervous about the checking," I said, chuckling as I remembered our short conversation during the boys' practice.

  "I can tell you're as wound up as a jack-in-the-box. Your son is Asher, right?"

  "Yeah." I nodded, smiling at her remembrance of me.

  "My son Eric was raving about him after their practice. He said Asher was such a nice boy. I'm sure they'd love to have a playdate one day soon."

  "That'd be great. Asher could use a friend on the team."

  "What do you say we head on in? Looks like the boys are coming out."

  I looked behind us and saw the young kids lining up by the door. I nodded and followed Janet around the left side of the oval ice to the wooden bleachers that rose from the cement ground.

  Janet stopped on the third level. I usually liked to stand on the top. These sort of games made me anxious, and I liked to pace. I yelled a lot, and sometimes that made people angry, so I figured I'd give Janet fair warning.

  "I'm a bit of a screamer on game days," I told her as I sat beside her. I was clutching my coffee in both of my hands. I made a mental note to grab hand warmers the next time I was at Walmart. Shove those things in your boots and gloves, and you were good for hours.

  "My husband is a screamer. I'm used to it."

  "Where is your husband now?" I asked her, hoping that I wasn't crossing some invisible line. I wasn't smellto adult conversations unless it was a teacher or therapist.

  "He has a management position with IBM so he travels frequently. I swear I feel like a single mom half the days of the year."

  "That must be rough," I said honestly. I had only been a single parent for less than a year, and I could feel myself aging by the day. It wasn't a single person's job, yet we still had to do it.

  "Don't answer if you don't want, but are you married?" I looked over at Janet and saw the indecision on her face. I smiled warmly.

  "I'm not. Asher is actually my brother," I told her, deciding to open up to her. I might as well with someone, right? She seemed like an understanding woman that I could get advice from. "I took over custody of him when my parents passed. So it's just me and him now."

  "Wow," she said under her breath, shaking her head. "That must be really hard for you."

  "It's worth it. I love that kid, and he grounds me. I'm just learning as I go."

  "Well, you're clearly doing a great job," she said as Asher skated in front of us. He stopped and looked up from the ice, waving at me as he got into line to do drills.

  Janet stopped talking as we watched our boys with proud eyes. Asher was killing it. There were two lines of boys, one on each side of the goal, which was dead center on the red line. They would skate to the blue line, catch the puck, and then shoot on their own goalie.

  Asher got to the front of the line and took the puck in the middle of his stick. A boy from the other side skated in a large semicircle and then looked to Ash for the pass.

  Ash perfectly led his teammate towards the goalie with the puck, and the kid scored. It was now Ash's turn to catch and shoot. The pass from his teammate was a bit off, too far back which made him slow down, but Asher got it in with the tip of his stick and then lifted the puck into the top right corner of the net. I beamed.

  After drills, the two teams lined up at their boxes on either side of the penalty box and clock manager. The boxes were on the opposite side of the ice from us, so we had a perfect view of the bench.

  I knew that Ash was the new kid on the team, but I hoped that he'd get some playing time. He deserved it after all the hard work he did this summer. Hell, I deserved it after all my hours designated to being goalie in our driveway. I had endured more shin bruises from blocked pucks than I ever wanted to admit.

  By the time the third period rolled around, Ash hadn't stepped on the ice. Ash's team, the Lions, was up 3-2. I felt for the kid. He kept looking up at me from the center of the box, questioning, but I didn't know why he wasn't playing. I figured it was mostly since he was new, but I had no idea. Maybe I was biased but I thought he was good enough.

  Finally, when there were only seven minutes left in the game, the coach grabbed Ash's shoulder pads and tugged him towards the front of the line. Ash was always center, but it looked like he was going to be playing right wing when the lines changed.

  A kid from Ash's team iced the puck, causing the ref to blow his whistle, stopping play, and the kids all skated to the bench while the next line hopped onto the ice. I was right. Ash was right wing, and at first, his ankles were a little wobbly. I knew it was just nerves.

  "Look, there he is," Janet said, pointing to Asher. I smiled and nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from the ice. My heart was pounding, filling my eardrums with its rhythmic thumping.

  The center got the puck and began to break away from the group. Asher kept up with him well and paused at the other team's blue line so he wasn't offsides. The center passed it to Ash, who skated around the outer circle and turned.

  Ash found the center near the middle of the ice and passed the puck through two defensemen to get it to him. The pass was a rocket, fast and precise. The center caught the puck and fired it off right away. The whistle blew: goal.

  "Yeah!" I yelled and stood up. I started clapping as the boys on the ice huddled up and hugged each other. Ash would get that assist. I yelled again, unable to hold back my excitement.

  "Go Eric!" Janet yelled beside me, jumping to her feet.

  "Was that your son who scored?" I asked her.

  "Yeah," she said, nodding her head and whistling. I clapped and yelled a few more times as the boys lined up in the center of the ice. The whistle blew, and the next play began.

  "What a great play," I said as I sat back down and picked up my coffee. It was no longer warm, but it still had caffeine so I took a sip.

  "What a great pass. Our boys should play on the same line together."

  "Yours is a first liner, though."

  "I'm sure Ash will be soon, too."

  "He would love that."

  We won the game, 4-2. I knew that Ash was going to be ecstatic today. He always acted high when the games were over, win or lose. But since he got an assist, I decided that we'd go to Prime Time tonight and eat out.

  The guys at the diner loved Ash. Since I'd been working there for a while, everyone knew him and usually gave him free treat, or let him sit at the bar while I worked. I was lucky to have such awesome people surrounding me, supporting me.

  The kids from the team all came out together. I spotted Asher near the middle of the group. His dark hair was matted to his forehead, wet with sweat. The boys never showered here, but it didn't bother Ash at all to be sweaty all day. Only everyone else around him.

  "You were awesome," I said as Asher ran towards me. He dropped his black bag on the ground and jumped towards me, his hand outstretched. I high-fived him and then bent down to grab his bag.

  "Coach said I'd get to play the whole game next weekend."

  "No way," I said, smiling down at Ash.

  "Can I have a playdate?" he asked, looking behind him at the other kids as they said hello to their families. I was surprised by the amount of people that turned out for the first game. I felt a little pang of sadness that I was the only one here representing Ash.

  "Not tonight. I was thinking we could go get burgers and then rent a movie."

  "Yes!" he said as he jumped up again. He waved behind him, and I saw Janet sitting on
the bleachers with her son beside her. He was the spitting image of her, dark curly hair, light blue eyes that were wide as could be. He was large though, carrying at least twenty pounds and three or four inches above Ash.

  I waved to her and when she looked up and saw me, she waved back. I lugged Asher's bag to the back of my car and threw it in. His stick was just short enough to fit back there, too.

  Asher was close behind. He jumped into the back seat and buckled in before I had a chance to start the car. I laughed as I slowly moved out of the parking lot, navigating my way around all the other people who were trying to escape.

  "How awesome was my assist?"

  "It was—"

  "My passing was just, like, so good. I knew Eric was in the middle and just went with it. He's so nice to me." I could barely keep up with everything he was saying. He was talking a mile a minute. "Do you think he could come over some day? He told me his favorite movie was Guardians of the Galaxy, too, and I kind of told him we had it at home and he wanted to come over so we could watch it together."

  "He can definitely come over," I said. "Next time I see his mom, I'll ask her, okay?" I knew Janet would have no problem with it. She was as nice as they came.

  Before too long we pulled into Prime Time, and Ash leaped from the car. He waited for me near the back of it, and I took his hand in mine as we crossed the busy parking lot.

  It was six thirty by the time we were seated. I didn't realize that a Saturday night would be so busy, but that was my own stupidity. I didn't work weekends because it was my only time with Ash, so I was oblivious to the rushes.

  "My favorite couple!" Jet said as he slid down the bar. We sat at the far end near the kitchen. The hostess, Mary Ellen, knew I wouldn't mind since it was a less desirable spot. A lot of customers didn't like it because of conflicting smells and the noises. I could care less.

  "I got an assist," Ash bragged as Jet noogied him.

  "Free milkshake right here!" Jet yelled. Ash giggled as we were handed menus. He already knew what he was getting, I knew it and so did he. It was the same thing every time. Large sea salt fries and a hamburger with American cheese and two pickles.

  I loved eating out with Asher. It was much more fun this way. Although it was hard since we were on such a tight budget, I loved splurging and treating him. I decided right there that every time Asher did well in a game, we'd go out to eat.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Luke

  My body ached as someone pounded on my shoulder and spun me around. I darted awake, flipping onto my side and falling face first onto the wood floor of my bedroom. I groaned as I rolled onto my back and stared up into crystal blue eyes.

  "You have therapy," Lilly said. She nodded to someone else in the room, and two large arms grabbed me under the armpits and lifted me back onto my bed so I was in a sitting position.

  "Take this. Then shower. You smell like piss and vomit." Lilly handed me a few Advil and a large glass of water. I heard my bathroom shower sputter to life, and then Liam came into the room.

  "Hey, Dude," I said since I never got to see him.

  "Come on, big guy. Let's get you ready." I struggled to get balanced on my feet, but luckily, the way to the shower was straightforward. Liam left the door open a crack while I began to undress, promising that he was waiting on just the other side.

  I could barely see; my eyes were so foggy everything was just different colored blurs. I was pretty certain the shower wasn't on that hot. I stepped into the large tiled shower and stood under all three heads, letting the strongest pound into my shoulder muscles.

  I stared down at the disappearing water and saw it turn a light shade of red for a moment. I looked down at my body and saw my split knuckles and bruised hands. Shit. The fight. Remembrance of the night before made my gut coil into tight knots.

  I grabbed the Dove and rubbed it up and down my arms. My hands stung as the soap seeped into my broken skin, but I actually enjoyed the burn. It woke me up a bit. My face ached, especially my lower jaw and lip.

  I jutted my tongue out, tasting copper in the corner of my mouth. I had work in two days, and I couldn't look like I had gotten into a fight. I needed to fix this.

  I shut off the shower and patted myself dry before tying the towel around my waist and walking back into my room. I stifled a laugh when I saw Liam asleep in my bed on top of the covers. So much for my watch dog…

  I took another swig of the water as I threw on a short sleeved graphic tee and a pair of jeans. I slipped into a pair of sneakers and then threw on sunglasses so my eyes would stop watering from the bright morning. I grabbed my wallet and keys and then trudged downstairs.

  "I made you coffee," Lil sang as I stepped into the kitchen. I sat on the other side of the counter. She slid the coffee mug across the counter, and some of the dark contents sloshed out. "Whoops," she chuckled.

  "Want to do your big brother a favor and drive me to Dr. Linhart's office?"

  "I'm not even dressed!" she complained. She grabbed a silver spoon and began shoveling sugar into her drink.

  "You don't have to get out. I just can't think with my brain banging against my skull." I nursed the coffee, my hands around the warm mug. I could've easily passed out on the table right there.

  "Fine. Give me five," she mumbled as she ran around the counter. She patted my back and then skipped up the stairs to her room. I must have zoned because the next second I heard her footsteps coming back down.

  I took the mug with me as we walked out the back kitchen door and into the garage. Lilly had been given the white BMW coup for her sixteenth birthday and surprisingly hadn't crashed it yet. I had to bend and crouch to get into the low leveled car, but the seats were so comfortable, it was worth it.

  "So, what happened last night?" Lilly immediately started with the questioning. I groaned and took another sip of my coffee.

  "What do you know?"

  "Well, I heard Lauren talking shit that you hit some guy at the bar. Then she told Mom that you had an anger problem, and Mom said you had to go to therapy. Then Lindsay and Mom got into a screaming match, and she told me to make sure you were up before she left."

  "That pretty much sums it up," I told her.

  "Well, did you hit someone?" She stopped at a red light on the main strip in New Canaan and looked across the car at me. I shrugged.

  "He was hitting on Maggie even though she said no. I didn't know what else to do. I don't have a problem." I tried to make that very clear. The last thing I wanted was Lilly to be scared of me.

  "Good."

  "Good?"

  "Yeah. If the guy was an ass then he deserved to be hit."

  It wasn't long before Lilly pulled up to Dr. Linhart's office. It was a regular house, small with black shutters and set back from the commercial area. The office had three different therapists, but my entire family saw Dr. Linhart because she was allegedly the best and had the most education.

  Once we all reached high school, Mother made us attend monthly meetings with her. Sometimes we had family meetings, sans Father, but most of the time, we each got an hour to ourselves.

  I wasn't forced to see Dr. Linhart more regularly until I hit college and started "acting out" according to my mother. She didn't like that I changed my major from law to education. She didn't like my tattoos and my binge-drinking phase. I got into one fight that landed me in the county jail in Storrs, and that just sent her into the deep end, despite the fact that the other guy didn't press charges.

  Looking back, I couldn't blame her. It was a dramatic change from when I was in high school. My father had influence over me when I lived in the house, so I made sure to be on honor roll and a varsity team all three seasons at prep school. I made sure to get into college. And then once I was there, I went crazy.

  "Do you want me to come in with you?" Lilly asked as I stared at the building through the windshield. I tried to pick up my feet and go in, but they were like lead. I sipped on my coffee.

  "No. Just give
me a second." I paused and saw a red Wrangler pull around the side of the building and park in a handicapped spot. I placed my mug in the center cup holder and opened the door. "I'll text you when I need a ride. Thanks, Lil. Love you."

  "Love you too brother."

  It had already been twenty minutes, and I wasn't giving anything up. Dr. Linhart knew me by now, and when I didn't want to say anything, my resolve was hard to break.

  "Do you want to talk about the girl?" she asked.

  "Not really."

  "Will you at least tell me her name and how you met? I know you got into the fight because of her. Give me something here, Luke." I didn't want to. Maggie didn't deserve to be dragged into this room with all my other dirty secrets and haunting flaws. She should've been in a different plane, but I realized that my life was my life. If I pursued her, she'd be dragged in the muck.

  "Her name is Maggie; she lives in Norwalk. She goes to Western and is in one of the education classes I have to take over."

  "What's she like?"

  "She's closed off, but in a way where you can tell she's just trying to protect herself. She doesn't go out much because of her son, who she hates talking about with me for some reason."

  "Why do you think she'd hate that?"

  "I don't know. Maybe she doesn't want me and him involved. But I'm his teacher, she knows that, so I see him daily. She can't separate us."

  "I'm sure she's just trying to do right by him. How old is her son?"

  "He's in fourth grade, so nine or ten."

  "How old is Maggie?" Dr. Linhart crinkled her already wrinkled forehead as she asked. I noticed that Dr. Linhart didn't look like she used to. Her regularly brown hair was fading to a more salt and peppered look. I didn't know how old she was, but her age was catching up to her, and her physical appearance showed it.

  "I think she's my age. She looks twenty, but she has to be older than that. Maybe twenty-five… that'd make her sixteen when she had him. That's the oldest I'd think she is."

  "Wow. That's young. I'm sure she's had some hard times."