The Wright Choice

by Kristy Gibs

  “What’d I miss?” Jaxson said as he abruptly sat back down next to me, snapping me out of the trance I was in from Ashton.

  “Not much,” I said breathlessly.

  Ashton chuckled, and Jax gave me a side-eye glance.

  “We were just discussing the trip to LA. I was telling your sister that I was wondering if you would finally make a move on Lucy.”

  I turned toward my brother, who was red-faced. “I knew it.” I nudged him.

  “I mean, yeah, she’s cool.” He tried to play it off, grabbing his phone and looking down at it.

  “Look at you. I have never seen you act like this because of a girl.”

  He shrugged.

  “Is my brother finally going to stop being a man-whore?” I asked, causing Ash to laugh and Jax to shake his head. “Well, she's been into you for years, and I guess she could do worse...” I took a sip of my neglected wine.

  “She is?”

  Rolling my eyes, I replied, “How could you not know? Everyone knows. I just assumed you flirted back with her to give her a rise, but I never expected you had feelings too.”

  “Gabriella, I am going to let you in on a little secret,” Ashton added. “Unless it hits us right on the head, we are clueless 99% of the time.”

  I burst out laughing but quickly forced myself to stop when both sets of parents turn and look our way, as well as Preston and Mia. Mom and Connor smiled, but the newlyweds-to-be had matching scowls on their faces.

  After dinner, everyone moved toward the living room, where a tray of pastries and coffee were waiting. I declined and decided to go out onto the large porch off the living room. It was another favorite spot of mine.

  Growing up, I spent many nights on the porch swing. Tonight, with just a glass of wine in my hand, I sat gazing up at the clear sky. Part of me wanted to run upstairs and grab my sketchbook. The dark blue and purple of the night, mixed with the twinkling white stars were mesmerizing. I closed my eyes, trying to capture this moment in my mind.

  “I love this time of year,” a voice interrupted my thoughts.

  I turned to find the man I was beginning to like more than I should, leaning on the railing.

  “Mr. Wright, I am beginning to think you are stalking me,” I teased.

  “Would that be such a bad thing?” he asked, pushing off the railing and moving closer to me. “I am finding it difficult to stay away from you.”

  “Ella?” my mother called.

  Clearing my throat, I responded, “Out here, Mom.”

  She peeked her head around the corner of the porch. “Have you seen your knucklehead brother? Dad is looking for him?”

  “No, I haven’t seen him since dinner.” He probably snuck out. Traitor.

  “Oh, Ashton. I didn’t even get a chance to say hello to you tonight. Where are my manners?”

  “Mrs. King, it’s nice to see you again. Dinner was delicious.” He took my mother’s hand and kissed it like some sort of move from a movie, and her cheeks reddened. This man had an effect on everyone.

  “Well, you kids enjoy. I better get back inside before Mia has a heart attack.” She pulled back her hand, waved goodnight and took off, leaving us alone again.

  “So…” I said once she cleared the porch.

  “So…” He moved closer to me once again.

  As if the universe was doing everything possible to interrupt whatever was going on between us, his phone rang. Sighing, he took the phone out of his pocket and scowled. “I am so sorry, but I have to take this.”

  “Oh, of course,” I said, instantly wondering who it was.

  “Hello?” he said to the person on the other end. “Right now?” he said, clearly irritated. “Okay, I am on my way.” He hung up and spun back toward me, and I pretended to not be eavesdropping on his conversation. “I have to take off.”

  “Oh, yeah. I should go back inside, anyway,” I said.

  “I will talk to you soon, Gabriella,” he said in his silky soft voice before walking away.

  I hope so.

  I survived the rest of the night sitting with my mother. I smiled and nodded when appropriate. Mia was ridiculous. I always thought she was a spoiled brat, but after having to listen to all her grand plans for the wedding and her all but stomping her foot when Connor disagreed with something, I couldn’t help but wonder what Preston saw in her. His parents sat and smiled, but I saw the subtle glance they made to each other and could tell even they were reaching their breaking point with Mia and her behavior.

  After I finished helping my mother clean up, I walked back toward the stairs that led to my bedroom and came face to face with Mia. I planned on continuing past her, but she blocked the stairs, arms folded with a scowl on her face.

  “I don’t know what you are trying to pull, Ella, but I am watching you.”

  “Um, I am not sure what you mean? I am not trying to pull anything?” Which was the truth. I was doing my best to be as invisible as possible around them.

  “Don’t think I don’t know about your little crush on Preston,” she sneered. “You aren’t going to win this time, Ella.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about, but it was nice chatting with you, Mia. Buh-bye.” I waved before I pushed past her and hurried up the stairs to my bedroom as Mia muttered something behind me.

  I need to move out.

  9

  Ash

  The plan tonight was to finally kiss those lush lips. We finally had the perfect opportunity, and I was just about to make my move when my phone went off. Just my luck. Her mom interrupted me first, then my mom.

  I arrived at the sober house, where my mother lived, in record time, parked, and took the steps up to the building two at a time. Her caretaker had called to say she showed up drunk. I paid an arm and a leg to get her in here after she relapsed again. This house was her last resort. Something had to be done before her addiction took her life, like it did my father’s. When I was fourteen, he overdosed; my mother was devastated and drank to dull the pain.

  I was fifteen when she went to rehab for the first time, and I moved in with my aunt and uncle. Since then, she has been in and out of rehabs and sober living houses. It took its toll, mentally and physically, but thankfully, my aunt and uncle stepped up and raised me. This is part of the reason Preston and I don’t get along well; he was jealous when I moved in and the attention I was receiving. He didn’t understand I was a troubled kid who not only lost his father but his mother too.

  Not many people knew I lived with the Channings. While Preston went to Our Lady, a private school for the privileged, I was adamant that I stay in the same school I was attending when my dad died. My uncle didn’t like it; he was afraid of what everyone would think, but to keep some sense of normalcy in my life, he gave in and I finished out high school with my friends.

  I arrived at the front desk; an older woman sat typing away vigorously.

  “Excuse me?”

  She glanced up from what she was doing. “I am here to see Mr. Thompson.”

  The woman picked up the phone and called the caretaker of the house. “He will be with you shortly,” she said before returning to her computer.

  Not wanting to stand over her, I walked over to a row of chairs and took a seat, hoping my mother’s relapse wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

  What if she got kicked out? I leaned over, with my elbows on my knees, and thought about the next step. There was a zero-tolerance policy. If needed, I could rent her an apartment, but that would just give her the tools to drink herself to death. She needed help, and part of me thought she needed to be moved elsewhere.

  I was just about to take out my phone to Google treatment centers in Florida when Mr. Thompson approached. I stood immediately and held out my hand.

  “Ashton, thank you for coming.” He shook it firmly. “Let’s go talk in my office.”

  Nodding, I followed the caretaker down a long corridor.

  He took out a set of keys and opened the oak door. “Please, h
ave a seat. Can I get you anything? Water?”

  “No, thank you, sir. How is she?”

  Sighing, he took the seat across from me. “She is sleeping it off. As you know, she has gotten to the point in her recovery where she is allowed to leave the premises between the hours of eight in the morning and six in the evening without a chaperone. This is the phase of reentering society to see how she performs.”

  Obviously, not well.

  “She had been doing very well until today. Does today or this week have any significance to her? Something that could have triggered her?” I should have known right away why she relapsed. I was an idiot to have forgotten.

  “My father has been dead fifteen years today.” I felt like a piece of shit. I should have been with my mother today, not at work and certainly not at the Kings’ house for dinner. The anniversary of my father’s death was always rough. “This is all my fault,” I confessed.

  “Son, I can assure you, this is not your fault. Not at all.” It was nice of him to say, but I felt like it was.

  “So, what now?” I was waiting for him to tell me to pack her up and take her out.

  “Normally, she would be expelled from the program, but she really has been doing very well, so we are going to take back her ability to leave, and I am going to increase her sessions with the counselor. She can stay, but if this happens again, she will be asked to leave.” Relief filled me. She could stay, at least for now.

  After discussing the next step in her treatment, I shook Mr. Thompson’s hand and left. My mother was sleeping off her relapse, so I didn’t want to disturb her. On my drive home, I thought of Gabriella and how I wished I could call her and tell her what happened, but I couldn’t. Not yet. She didn’t need to know how screwed-up my life was. In the past, when a girl found out the details of my upbringing, they would pity me. I didn’t want anyone’s pity.

  Beth: Come meet me and Samantha for a drink at V’s; we are just finishing up dinner.

  I looked at the clock on my nightstand. It was technically early for a Saturday night, and I had no other plans. After the fiasco with my mother last night, the last thing I wanted to do was go out, but I didn’t get to hang out with my best friend often. Plus, if what Beth said was true, her and Samantha were getting serious, and I needed to make sure she was worthy of my best friend.

  V’s Restaurant and Bar was a short drive from my apartment. I walked through the restaurant until I spotted the familiar redhead and her bleach-blonde girlfriend. Two men surrounded them, and Beth pulled Sam into her arms and said something that caused the guys to walk away.

  “Breaking hearts again?” I ask.

  Beth turned and smiled when she saw me. “What’s it with men thinking lesbians want to have a threesome with them?” Her confession caused a wave of laughter. I had assumed they were getting hit on by those men, but propositioning for a menage is ballsy. “Come on, sit down. Get a drink,” she said and I took the seat open next to her girlfriend.

  “How’s it going, Sam?”

  “It’s going really good. I heard your girlfriend is Beth’s new assistant?”

  I looked around Sam to a smirking Beth. “Not exactly. She’s a friend.” Both women exchanged knowing looks. “What?”

  “Friend? Yeah, okay, and I like men,” Beth said

  “If I would have known coming out would be you two pestering me, I would have stayed home,” I teased.

  Once they both stopped talking about Ella, we fell into easy conversation: we talked about the gallery, minus Ella’s involvement, and Sam told us about how her yoga studio was exploding. She was thinking of opening a second location. Overall, it was a pleasant night. I am not sure at what point Beth and Sam started taking shots, but as the night went on, and my anticipated hour of hanging out came and went, I decided I was going to be the girls’ DD for the night.

  Beth had gone to the bathroom when Sam whipped out her phone and snapped pictures. I couldn’t help but laugh and even smiled in one with her. I liked her. She was perfect for my friend, and I saw the way she looked at Beth. She loved her.

  It was after midnight when I walked both women to my car, shoved them into the backseat, and brought them back to Beth’s apartment. With hugs for all, Beth promised to call me again.

  Tonight was just what I needed to get my mind off my mom and her problems.

  10

  Ella

  Jax: Good luck tomorrow, Elle-Belle. Call me after and tell me all about it.

  I smiled down at my brother's text message. I hadn’t talked to him since he snuck out of dinner Friday night. As much as I wanted to be angry that he left me alone in the lion's den, I’ve never held a grudge against my brother for longer than a day. Plus, I did have Ash to keep me company for a while before he left.

  I tried as best I could not to think about Ash the rest of the weekend, but It was hard not to. The man was a walking Abercrombie model and made my lady bits tingle. The things he said to me have been on repeat in my head. I didn’t know what to think. Was he into me? Was he just trying to make me feel better?

  Sitting on my bed, I opened a new page in my notebook to create my to-do list and update my calendar for the following day. I was a bit O.C.D., so my life consisted of endless lists and spreadsheets. For someone who was so open-minded and creative by trade, I was also particularly anal.

  Buy kickass first-day outfit ✅ Leopard print skirt. Red Top, black flats

  Buy new professional bag ✅ Kate Spade Baby blue tote

  iPad and charger ✅

  I went through my new tote bag, adding the additional necessities I needed to get through the day: gum, mints, hairbrush, extra eyeliner, lip gloss, tampon, and tissues. After double-checking to make sure I had everything packed and ready for tomorrow, I opened up the glass door that led to my private balcony. It held an oversized chair and small table, and I loved it.

  My room overlooked the back of the house, and I could see straight to the fountain. My thoughts went to Preston. I used to sit on this balcony, Taylor Swift’s Love Story playing in the background, pretending he would show up and tell me I was the one. Pathetic how my preteen self was. Lately, I’ve found my adult self, thinking about my future and what I wanted in a partner.

  I wanted kids someday, but my career was first and foremost, at least for now. Whomever I ended up with needed to support my choice to work. I would never be the stay-at-home housewife, not that there was anything wrong with it— my mother loved being home—but that wasn’t me. I wasn’t a cook-dinner-every-night type of woman.

  The beep of my iPad pulled me from my trip down prepubescent Memory Lane and all thoughts of my future self. As I dashed back into my room, I nearly tripped on my face as I dove for the device.

  Disappointment and dread filled me immediately when I saw it wasn’t a message from Ash but an e-mail from Preston. Reluctantly, I opened it.

  From: Preston.Channing@ymail.com

  To: Ella.Costa@ymail.com

  Sent: Sun 08/25/19 9:35 pm

  Subject: Please Read...

  Ella,

  Look, I know you’re pissed at me and want nothing to do with me, but I can’t let you be fooled by Ashton. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He will hurt you.

  I really hope you give me a chance to explain everything someday. I know you hate the idea, but we are going to be family, and it would make things easier if we all got along.

  Please, think about it.

  Preston

  I chuckled. He was giving me advice on who was and wasn’t good for me?

  We’re family. What a crock of shit. Marriage or not, he would never be family to me. I deleted the e-mail without a second thought. How dare he? He had no right to butt into any part of my life. He made that decision when he left me high and dry for Mia. Screw him.

  Attempting to put all thoughts of Preston out of my head, I brought up Facegram to see if Ash had posted anything since dinner Friday night.

  We were friends, so it technically wasn’
t stalking, was it?

  After searching his name, his page opened, and I regretted it immediately. He was tagged in a post from the night before, at some bar, with a very cute blonde wrapped around his neck. My stomach sank, and I closed the app.

  Seems my M.O. is falling for unavailable men.

  Deciding I needed to get back out there, I shot a text to Lucy.

  Me: Friday, let’s go out in LA?

  Lucy: Like you even have to ask! Where to?

  Me: Someplace fun.

  Lucy: I know just the place.

  The three dots appeared at the bottom of the message, signaling she was typing.

  Lucy: Does this have anything to do with a certain boy or boys...

  Me: There’s just something about him. I can’t describe it; I get this feeling whenever I am around him.

  Lucy: Horny?

  Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Me: Lucy...

  Lucy: Hahaha. I wish I could see your face right now!

  Me: Good night. I will call you tomorrow.

  Lucy: Good luck tomorrow! Love you.

  Me: Love you.

  I plugged my phone into the charger and turned off my lights. It was still fairly early, but I needed a good night's sleep.

  It was only noon, and I was already exhausted. Anxiety kept me up all night. I was glad I decided to wear flats today. Beth was no joke; she knew her shit, and the moment I walked through the gallery door, we got straight to work. In two weeks, she was hosting her official gallery opening, featuring two artists from the area.

  With my notebook in hand, I followed Beth around the entire gallery, jotting down her ideas for the night. The center of the gallery would hold two bars, one on each end. Waiters would walk around with finger foods. Two of the four wings would be open, with each artist having their own wing to showcase their art. It was brilliant.