Beauty and the Mustache (43 page)

However, I really missed
my brothers. The thought of spending Christmas without them felt
unacceptable. I wondered if I could talk them into meeting me
halfway between Chicago and Green Valley, or maybe just an hour or
two from the homestead.

I heard the door swing
open followed by Elizabeth’s shout, “It’s us: Janie, Sandra, Nico,
and me.”

“
Quinn and Alex might be
by later,” Janie announced.

“
It is colder than Satan’s
balls out there!” Sandra’s voice bellowed from the hallway. Kat and
I shared a smile and I rolled my eyes.

“
Well, come in then, and
take off your clothes,” I called back.

“
I can’t. Nicoletta is
with us.”

“
Don’t let me stop you.”
Nico’s teasing tone made me laugh.

“
It’s not you, Nico.” I
heard Janie’s voice respond from beyond the kitchen. “It’s Alex and
Quinn. The last time they dropped by knit night unexpectedly and we
were having a panty dance party, it took me twenty six days of
constant physical intimacy before he started to relax
again.”

Nico chuckled. “Because it
was a coed party?”

“
Honestly, no. I don’t
think he was jealous….” Janie walked into the kitchen, pausing to
give Kat then me a hug.

“
What was it then?” I
asked her, curious.

Janie pressed her lips together, her eyes
growing wide as she stared at me for a long moment. Abruptly, she
leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “I think it turned him
on.”

I barked a laugh and
covered my mouth. “Oh, my God. By all means, we should all keep our
clothes on.”

Sandra burst into the
room, still removing layers of clothing. “Yeah, it’s not a good
idea. Alex couldn’t keep his hands off me for months after. It’s
like I was Alex-catnip.”

I couldn’t help but smile
at Sandra. Where Janie whispered intimate information, Sandra just
put it all out there. It struck me that they were a perfect yin and
yang. Janie was overly verbose about trivial information and made
strangers uncomfortable with her random factoids, whereas Sandra
was unsurpassed in social settings; she knew exactly what to say
and when to say it—when she set her mind to it.

With her friends, Sandra
was the queen of personal TMI, whereas Janie never spoke of
personal issues unless pushed or prodded.

“
What smells good?” Nico
hovered in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes twinkly, eyebrow
raised, boyish grin in place.

It took me months to get
used to Nico, maybe even a year. I definitely had a little—and very
benign—crush on him. In fact, I was pretty certain we all did.
Never mind the fact that he was a celebrity, he had dangerously
unnatural levels of charisma. It was like having a crush on a
nebula or a painting; you just wanted to look at him.

Over time, however, the
sensation and feelings became similar to the girl-crushes I had on
the rest of the knitting ladies. I admired him, enjoyed his
company, and wished him happiness in all things.

“
Kat picked up wonton soup
and egg rolls for dinner,” I explained.

“
Hey, thanks, Kat!” The
group echoed this grateful sentiment, and Kat ducked her head, her
cheeks turning pink. Since she and I had started spending more time
together, I’d noticed that she did not accept praise or compliments
very well. I would have to start saturating her with comments about
how awesome she was.

“
It’s no big deal.” She
waved away their gratitude.

“
Hey, Ashley, what’s
this?” Sandra strolled into the already crowded kitchen and picked
up the package I’d left on the counter.

I pulled several wine
glasses from the cabinet. “Oh, I don’t know. It just
came.”

“
Can I open it?” She
asked. “You know how I love to open other people’s mail—so annoying
that it’s a felony.”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

She began ripping into the
package while I filled the goblets with plum wine.

“
I need some advice,”
Janie announced. She was leaning against the kitchen table, her
arms folded, her pretty face marred by a pensive frown.

“
What’s up, buttercup?”
Elizabeth squeezed into the kitchen and grabbed the bowls from the
counter to set the table.

“
I don’t know what to get
Quinn for Christmas.”

“
You—in a bow.” Nico said
this deadpan. “Maybe forget the bow.”

“
No—I mean, I have it
narrowed down to two things. I need help deciding between the
two.”

“
What are they?” Sandra
asked as she pulled a rectangular bundle wrapped in newspaper from
the envelope. “Why don’t you make him something?”

“
Well, I already crocheted
him that hat and scarf. So, that’s done.”

“
And it’s black and very
dark gray, so you know he’ll love it.” Elizabeth said this with
some sarcasm. We had a running joke that Quinn was actually
Batman.

Janie nodded, both because
she agreed and because she got the joke. “But the other two things
are a little complicated. I can either fly his parents out for
Christmas, or I think I can get his sister to come.”

“
But not both.” Kat stated
this, her voice warm with sympathy and understanding.

Janie sighed. “His parents
would be fine with seeing his sister, but I think Shelly wouldn’t
come if his parents were there. She still has…issues.”

I listened to the
conversation with interest because it mirrored my situation. I
wanted to see my brothers for Christmas, but I didn’t want to face
Drew. Whether I liked it or not, my brothers considered him a part
of the family. Actually, he
was
a part of the family—especially after all he’d
done for us, for my mother, for me.

Hearing Janie struggle
with the situation made me realize how selfish I’d been about the
whole thing. I didn’t want my brothers to choose between us. I
wasn’t that person. My momma raised me to be better. I would just
have to find a way to need nothing from Drew like he needed nothing
from me.

I cleared my throat,
prepared to tell Janie that she should invite both of them—Quinn’s
sister Shelly and his parents—but then Sandra gasped.

I was mid pour, so I gave her a cursory
glance. “What is it?”

“
Oh!” Elizabeth’s startled
exclamation came next.

At this, I set the bottle
down and crossed to where Sandra held the contents of the envelope,
but Elizabeth was blocking my view.

“
What is it?” I asked
again, insinuating myself between them so I could see what the fuss
was about.

Then I saw it.

“
Oh….” I exhaled, my eyes
moving over the object in Sandra’s hands.

It was Drew’s leather
notebook; the one he carried around in his pocket, always seemed to
be writing in, and was never without. I immediately recognized the
Norse symbols on the front. But it was singed; the cover was burnt
as were several of the pages. The edges were black and brittle,
but—other than the scarred cover—it was mostly intact.

Sandra held it out to me,
her eyes wide. “Drew sent this to you?”

I shook my head, not
taking the notebook. “I—I don’t know.”

I couldn’t believe my
eyes. I wanted to be irritated or ambivalent, but I
wasn’t.

Elizabeth put her hands on
her hips. “Is he okay? Why is this burnt?” Picking up the envelope
and giving it a closer inspection, she added, “The postmark is from
Franklin, North Carolina. Did he move there?”

I shrugged, lifting my
hands palms up, my eyes glued to the notebook. “I don’t know. I
have no idea. I haven’t talked to him since Momma’s
funeral.”

The last words I’d said to
him were
I’m not your problem
anymore.

I couldn’t get over Drew
until I started disliking him. I wasn’t going to be able to forgive
and forget. This wasn’t going to be one of those relationships
where we could be friends. He’d cut too deep with his good
intentions, not to mention our brief interludes of perfect physical
chemistry.

Anger was essential
because otherwise I was just tremendously sad. Bitterness and anger
provided harvestable energy, something on which to focus, something
through which to work. Sadness simply left me adrift.

But now, dread gripped my
chest as I studied the book; my stomach coiled into a knot at the
sight of the charred cover. This book had been in a
fire.

I rubbed my fingers over
my chest because my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my
ribs. Without accepting the notebook, I rushed out of the kitchen
and ran to my cell phone. I hesitated for a minute then decided to
call Jethro just in case Drew was alive and well and I was
overreacting.

His phone went straight to voicemail. I
called twice more. Both times it went straight to voicemail.

Then I called Drew. His went straight to
voicemail.

Then I called Billy. He picked up on the
third ring.

“
Hey, Ash. What’s up?” I
knew he was still at work because I could hear the telltale sounds
of saws in the background.

“
Billy! I tried calling
Jethro and Drew. Neither of them picked up. Are they…is everything
okay?”

“
Uh, yeah, as far as I
know. They’re in North Carolina on that Appalachian trekf or two
weeks. Jethro will be back Friday. They turn off their phones
because there’s no service where they are, but they have the
satellite phone with them for emergencies. It’s probably off to
save battery life.”

North Carolina.

“
They’re
together?”

“
Yep. Why?”

“
When is the last time you
spoke to either of them?’

“
Uh, this morning. Hey,
are you still coming for Christmas? Jethro said not to count you in
this year.”

I breathed a huge sigh of relief, the
tension in my chest easing.

“
Yes.” I nodded, even
though he couldn’t see me. “Yes, of course I’m coming for
Christmas. I said I’d be there. I’ll be there.”

For Billy, his response
sounded almost chipper. “Oh. Good. Cletus is making moonshine
eggnog.”

“
Ugh, that sounds gross.”
I laughed, my head hitting the wall as I closed my eyes. My brain
was still coming down from its skyscraper of worry.

“
Listen, I’ll talk to you
later. I have to get back to work. Did you want me to tell Jethro
something?”

“
No. It’s nothing. They
get back Friday?”

“
Jethro gets back Friday,
yes.”

We said our goodbyes, and
I glanced at the phone screen after hanging up, absorbing the
information Billy had just related. I became aware of a presence at
my elbow and glanced to my right. Everyone was hovering around me.
Their expressions tense.

“
So? Everything okay?”
Elizabeth asked.

“
Yes.
Jethro and Dr. Ruin…
Drew
…are doing some trek in North
Carolina. Their phones are off. Billy just talked to Jethro
yesterday.”

“
The envelope was sent
before yesterday.” Elizabeth held it up like it was evidence.
“Whatever fire burned the book happened before yesterday, so Jethro
and Drew must be fine.”

“
If either were injured,
Billy would know.”

Sandra held the notebook
out to me. “Ashley, I think he must’ve sent this to you for a
reason.”

I glanced at the burnt book then met her
green eyes, wide with earnest concern. I gathered a deep breath
before responding.

“
I don’t….” I shook my
head. “I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“
Why don’t you start by
looking at it?” She held it out to me.

I didn’t take it. The deep
breath I’d taken felt insufficient, so I crossed to the couch and
sat down.

Field notes.
That’s what Drew said was in the book.

Sandra followed and sat on the coffee table
facing me. She took my right hand in one of hers and placed the
book in it.

“
He sent this to you. You
don’t have to read it, but it belongs to you now. You have to take
it.”

I nodded, holding but not
looking at the book. I wasn’t ready to speak, not yet; I didn’t
know my own thoughts. Sandra seemed to sense this because she stood
abruptly and walked back to the kitchen.

“
Where are Marie and
Fiona?” I heard Elizabeth ask, and the subject was officially
changed. My friends left me alone with Drew’s burnt
notebook.

I listened to their
discussion from the other room, the sounds they made gathering
around my table to eat. I loved their noises, their laughter. It
felt like home, comfort, contentment, safety.

My emotions were a
stampede of conflict as I looked at the notebook in my hands. I
brushed my fingers over the brittle, charred leather.

It was covered in ash.

“
If you read someone else’s diary, you get what you
deserve.
”