by M. C. Decker
“You know it’s just some stupid traveling trophy, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s an awesome trophy that I plan to proudly display on the bookshelf in my office once we win,” I exclaimed, exuberantly. “Do they engrave our names on it too?”
“Oh my god. It isn’t the Stanley Cup!” she protested. “Have you been drinking Brad’s Kool-Aid? You’re starting to act like him and quite honestly it’s scaring me!” She was really taking me seriously. I was all in now.
“What? Oh no! You haven’t touched it prematurely, have you? You know if you’ve already touched it then we won’t win.”
“Like I said, it’s NOT the Stanley Cup!”
“These are all acceptable questions, Ashlynn!” I said. “I wish you were taking this as seriously as I am,” I added, bursting into a fit of laughter.
“Oh my god, you’re such a prick,” she squealed, smacking me on the bicep. “I totally thought you were being serious.”
“Well, I mean it’d be nice to win, but I’m not going to lose any sleep over it, if we don’t.”
“You two are going to have to settle for second place,” Brad singsonged, waltzing past us. “I’ve got this one in the bag. Turns out the ladies on the hospital women’s auxiliary board really love a man in tights.”
“I told you we should’ve been Peter Pan and Wendy,” Ashlynn protested, now suddenly interested in the victory.
“Nah, Brad really pulls off Lycra much better than I ever could. You watch, I’ll go sway those ladies. They won’t be able to resist my Ricky Ricardo accent. I knew there was a reason I’d been practicing for days,” I said, smiling as I turned to walk away.
“Be sure to flash them those dimples while you’re over there,” she shouted.
“Oh, Lucy, you play dirty and I like it!”
“Damn, he’s right. You’re totally going to win this. There’s no way those ladies are going to be able to resist that killer smile,” I heard Brad tell Ashlynn. Stopping just out of their view, I listened to the remainder of their conversation. Maybe it wasn’t right to eavesdrop on their discussion, but I had to get into Ashlynn’s head. I had to know that my feelings for her weren’t for nothing.
“Yeah, he is pretty irresistible, isn’t he?” she sighed.
“Girl, you’ve got it bad. Don’t you think it’s about time you told him? Don’t think I didn’t notice your crazy eyes come out when I referred to you as his girlfriend earlier,” Brad reminded her.
“I can’t, Brad. I’ve thought about it a lot over the last few weeks and I just can’t fake it around him,” she sighed. Fake it? What did she mean by faking it? I leaned in closer, hoping Brad would ask the questions that I should be asking myself.
“But, you just said he was irresistible. I don’t understand what you’d be faking, Ash. You’re just as into him as he’s into you. Help me understand.”
“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is, in the end, we’d both end up hurt. It’s just easier this way. Trust me, I’ve been down this road before with Parker. It would have been easier if I’d just left him when he wanted more. I didn’t have more to give then, and I don’t have more to give now. It’s just that simple,” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Watching as she cried, I should’ve run over to console her, but instead, I left the comforting to Brad. In the end, maybe Ashlynn was right. Maybe we would both end up hurt. Lord knows, it’s a road I’d been down before and it’d taken me a long time to recover, but it was a risk I knew I was willing to take–especially for her.
Ashlynn
“Seems like Carson has been gone a long time,” I said, drying the tears from the corners of my eyes. Even though I knew things would never work out romantically between the two of us, it didn’t mean that I didn’t care about him. He’d been good to me over the last several weeks, and even I couldn’t deny that the kiss we shared didn’t have me second-guessing everything.
“Yeah, we should probably go save him from the flock of hungry women,” Brad laughed, pointing toward the corner where Carson was standing in the middle of a circle of ladies from the auxiliary.
“I think he’s motioning for me to come rescue him,” I laughed.
“On second thought, I’m sure he’s fine. It’s good for him. I’m sure they could even teach the old Doc a thing or two. Who knows, it could even help him down the road with his techniques,” Brad joked.
“Really? You two couldn’t come over there and offer me some assistance,” Carson guffawed as he rejoined us. “I thought those ladies were going to eat me alive.”
“Looks like you managed,” I laughed, as Brad was called to the stage to announce the contest winners. “Now that he’s gone, were you able to sway them?”
“Oh, we’re a shoo-in,” he confirmed.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention,” Brad said from the stage. “In my hands are the results for this year’s costume contest,” he added, the crowd erupting in applause. This being my first experience at the Halloween Ball, I really was shocked to see how seriously the staff took this little competition.
After announcing the second and third place winners, Brad looked toward the crowd and gave me a knowing glance. We’d be happy for one another no matter who captured the trophy. “Without further ado, the winners of this year’s Halloween Ball Costume Contest are . . .” he paused, opening the envelope. “It’s a tie,” he continued, shock in his voice.
“Who won?” someone yelled from the crowd.
“The winners are Ashlynn Sommers and Carson Foster and Lucille Ball and Ricky Ricardo and myself as Peter Pan,” Brad squealed, hoisting the trophy over his head as Carson and I walked onto the stage.
“I don’t think we’ll ever be able to pry that trophy out of his hands,” I sighed, shaking my head.
“I’m so shocked by this win!” Brad gushed into the microphone. “I’d like to thank the Academy, my coworkers, and my B-F-F Ashlynn, for without you, this win wouldn’t have been possible. “
“OK, I think that’s enough, Brad,” I said, dragging him off the stage before he said something that would embarrass himself or maybe me. “Why don’t you go show off that trophy to our colleagues?” I suggested, knowing I needed some alone time with Carson.
“May I have this dance, Lucy?” Carson asked in his best Ricky accent.
“Well aren’t you charming,” I said, grabbing for his outstretched hand.
Carson pulled me tightly against his chest as Demons by Imagine Dragons played through the speakers. I couldn’t help but realize the irony of the moment.
“Hey, you OK?” Carson asked as we swayed together to the music.
“Yeah, it’s just been a long night, that’s all. I guess I’m just kind of tired,” I lied, biting my lip to hold back another round of tears. I hadn’t gone out on Halloween in twenty years. Even when Parker and I were married, I’d usually stay at work late just so I wouldn’t be forced to go out. The other times, I’d come home, turn off the lights, and fall asleep before nightfall just so my memories of that fateful night wouldn’t torment me.
“So, I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I happened to overhear part of your conversation with Brad earlier and something you said has been bothering me,” he admitted.
“Yeah?” I responded, preparing for what was coming next.
“You told him that you couldn’t fake it with me. What did you mean by that?” he questioned.
Knowing that I couldn’t tell him anymore lies, I tried my best to give him the most honest answer that I could possibly come up with.
“Look, Carson. I like you. I really do, but I can’t give you more. I can’t give you the relationship that I think you’re looking for,” I told him, my own heart shattering with each word I spoke. “I can’t pretend that we’d make a happy couple when I know that we wouldn’t. Trust me when I tell you that it’s definitely nothing that you’ve done, it’s all me.”
“Sounds like an excuse to me. I know you feel as much for me
as I do for you. This isn’t fake, Ashlynn. It’s very real. Trust me, you can’t fake this. I won’t let you fake this.”
“There’s just so much you don’t know, Carson. You can never know.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m afraid I want more with you, and I just can’t have more,” I admitted, a steady stream of tears now running down my cheeks.
“Then that’s exactly why you should let me in. Let me give you more. Fight for it–fight for us. At least for the chance at something more,” he begged, leading us into a corner where we sat, away from prying eyes.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t. Please understand, Carson. I can’t have more. Not with you. Not with anyone,” I cried.
“Ashlynn, I’ve heard a lot of excuses from patients over the years, but I’m not sure I can understand this one,” he thundered, pain evident in his eyes.
“You just can’t ever learn the truth, Carson. I can’t give you what you want, and I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t hurt you like I hurt Parker. I just can’t hurt someone else that I care about.”
“Then that’s exactly why you should tell me, Ash,” Carson whispered, kneeling in front of me, placing his palm across my cheek.
“Can you just please take me home? I think I’m going to be sick,” I said, rubbing my hands across my face. “I knew I shouldn’t even have agreed to come here with you tonight. Nothing good ever happens on this fucking holiday.”
I could tell Carson wanted to continue our discussion, but luckily for me Brad came over to us, interrupting our conversation.
“Ash, I think I’m going to call for an Uber to take me home. I sucked down one too many congratulatory, caramel apple martinis and my head is spinning,” he said, practically tripping over his own feet. “You going to be OK?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Carson was just about to take me home,” I said, looking back in his direction. The look on his face was one that would haunt me for quite some time. The smile that he’d worn earlier was replaced with a blank stare, void of all emotion. He’d given up. Just like I’d asked him to–why did that hurt so fucking much?
“She’s right. We were just about to take off. I can give you a ride too,” Carson told Brad.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your alone time,” Brad said.
“You’re definitely not,” Carson insisted, not even looking at me. “Let’s go.”
Ashlynn
BRAD’S SHRILL, DRUNKEN yapping about a community theater award he’d won for his portrayal of Frankie Valli in “Jersey Boys” was much preferred to the deafening silence of the drive after dropping Brad off at his house. Pulling in my driveway, I turned to face Carson who stoically peered ahead, not even looking in my direction.
“Carson, please understand. It’s not my intention to hurt you. It’s just for the best. Please say you understand?” I nearly begged, grabbing his arm.
Wincing, as though my hand was molten lava, I pulled it away, not wanting to cause him any more pain.
“I don’t understand. I thought we were both on the same page, but it turns out we’re miles apart. You won’t trust me with your secrets. And, if I haven’t earned your trust then what’s the fucking point, Ashlynn? he barked, pain evident in his voice. His words hurt, but he was at least partially right.
“It’s not like that. I do trust you!” I cried, praying he’d eventually forgive me. I didn’t want to lose him entirely. I enjoyed the friendship that we’d built over the last several weeks.
“Maybe, but not enough. Listen, I think we’ve said all that needs to be said. I don’t want to say something that I may regret, and it’s not like we can just disappear from each other’s lives–at least until Dr. Reynolds comes back. So, let’s just go back to being colleagues. Nothing more. It’s my fault for ever thinking there could be something more.”
Seeing the torment in his eyes and knowing that I’d been the reason for his pain, had me on the brink of unburying my secrets.
“Carson, I . . .” I paused.
“Don’t, Ashlyn,” he interrupted. “You said earlier that you weren’t interested in pursuing a relationship, so I give up. As much as I wanted to give you a hundred percent, I can’t do that when I only get fifty percent of you in return. Now, have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Not knowing how to respond, I opened the passenger door in defeat.
“OK, then. Goodnight, I guess,” I mumbled, stepping out of the SUV.
Before I’d even reached the front porch, Carson had pulled away, leaving behind only a lingering trail of dust.
Quickly changing out of my Lucy costume, I hopped into bed without even bothering to wash the layers of makeup off my face. I’m sure I’d pay for it in about fifteen years, but right now I didn’t care. My only concern was making it through the rest of the night unscathed–fucking Halloween.
Turning on the television, I flipped through the channels seeing only horror flicks being aired, one after another. Turning off the screen, I hoped it wasn’t a forewarning of the nightmares that were yet to come. As I drifted off to sleep, I was momentarily startled awake when Steve Urkel jumped on the bed, cuddling up to my side.
“Are you sure your mom and dad won’t care if I spend the night?” I asked Parker for the hundredth time.
“No, Mom already said it was fine. They’re going to a Halloween party with your parents, but they should be home later. Vanessa will be out with her friends and Mom said that Kyle would be staying at the house if we need anything,” Parker said, reassuring me.
“OK, I just don’t want to get into trouble.”
“Seriously, Ash. You worry too much!”
“Sorry,” I said, sticking out my bottom lip.
“You’re cute,” he said, smiling.
“Parker Flynn, do you like me? Do you want to kiss me?” I teased.
“What if I said yes? Would you let me kiss you?” he asked, catching me off guard. Parker and I had been best friends for longer than I could remember. Did I want him to kiss me? What if I hated it? Would we still be best friends? But, what if I liked it? I was fifteen and I’d never kissed a boy before. It would be nice to finally have a boyfriend to brag about to my girlfriends.
“Stop it! You’re not being serious,” I laughed, not knowing how else to respond.
“I’m being completely serious, Ash. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time now, but I never knew if you felt the same way,” he explained, stepping toward me. “Do you feel the same way? Can I kiss you, Ashlynn?”
“Sure,” I hesitated. “I mean, yes. I’d like it if you kissed me.”
I don’t remember it being an earth-shattering first kiss. I didn’t see stars or fireworks, but I’m sure as far as first kisses go it was at least average. At least we didn’t get our braces stuck together like Brett and Sarah, or he didn’t slobber on me like Drooling David. I knew I liked Parker well enough, and I knew he’d be a good boyfriend. It seemed like the obvious choice at the time.
“So, you’re my girlfriend now?” he asked, setting a large bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, popping in the scary movie I’d let Parker pick. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into one of these stupid slasher movies.”
“Don’t worry, Ash. It’s my job as your boyfriend to protect you,” he said, winking.
“Yeah, is it your job as my boyfriend to be super cheesy now too?” I asked with a laugh.
“Com’ on! It wasn’t that bad,” he yelled, throwing a couch pillow at me.
“Whatever you say, let’s just watch the movie.”
Burying my head into his chest, I watched out of the corner of my eye as the bad guy entered through the front door of the house.
“Look behind you!” Parker yelled at the TV, neither of us aware that Parker’s older brother, Kyle, had entered the house.
“I don’t think Mom and Dad would approve of you two sucking face on their couch,” Kyle said, flipping on the lig
hts.
“Fuck, Kyle! You scared the shit outta us!” Parker yelled after I’d jumped three feet away from him. “And, we weren’t ‘sucking face.’”
“Yeah, OK, whatever you say, Park,” he said, stepping into the kitchen. “Keep the lights on. Mom asked me to keep an eye on you two, but I don’t really feel like playing babysitter. Oh, and watch the language, Little Brother,” he taunted.
“We’re fifteen, Kyle. I think we’ll be fine.” Parker was right, everything was fine for the rest of the night–it wasn’t until the early hours of the morning when everything went horribly wrong.
Waking to the sound of my phone ringing, I frantically looked around the room before realizing I’d left it in my purse. Taking a moment to wipe the sleep from my eyes, I hopped off the bed, grabbing my purse from the floor. Glancing at the phone, I was surprised I’d missed four calls and seven text messages from Brad. Opening the screen to read the messages, the phone flickered with another incoming call.
“How the fuck are you awake? It’s seven in the morning on a Saturday. You were drunk as a skunk less than six hours ago,” I said, answering the call.
“Ash, what the fuck happened last night? I woke up feeling like I’d been roofied, but I’m in my own bed and still wearing my Peter Pan tights.”
“Relax, you just drank your weight in caramel apple martinis. Carson and I dropped you off at your house shortly after midnight. I made sure you made it inside safely.”
“Phew. That’s a fucking relief,” he sighed.
“Glad I could be of assistance, now if you’re done, I’m going back to bed,” I said.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the time. I hope I didn’t interrupt sexy time with Doctor C,” he chuckled.
“Goodbye, Bradley. Take two aspirin and drink a glass of water. You’ll thank me later,” I said, avoiding his comment.
“Bye. Thanks, Ash,” he said, ending the call.
Carson
EVEN THOUGH IT was the weekend and I was on-call at the hospital, I decided to go into the office to take care of some things that I’d left during the week. Sitting down at my desk, the folder with Ashlynn’s case caught the corner of my eye as if it were taunting me. Scanning through the pages once again, I still couldn’t find anything that stuck out.