Loving Ashe (24 page)
Authors: Liz Madrid
“Riley, what are you doing here?” Paige asked as she approached, surprised. She was dressed in a T-shirt under a leather jacket with fitted jeans and boots, and she was holding three yellow balloons and party favors. The triplets had abandoned her side and were now surrounding Riley. Priscilla, the nanny, followed close behind and Paige asked her to bring the balloons and party favors inside the house.
Aunt Riley, you’re back! Are you staying? Can you read us a story like you did that last time? Where is Ashe? Did you go away? How come you didn’t call us back? I made you a picture!
“Can I talk to your mother for a few minutes?” Riley asked the boys who were trying to outdo one another in catching her attention. In addition to all their questions, they wanted to show her their latest toys. Trey was carrying a plastic version of Thor’s hammer while Trevor, judging from the stuffed toy he clutched against his chest, was apparently into Snoopy as the flying ace. Thomas simply kept embracing Riley, crying and refusing to let go, telling her how much he’d missed her and asking why she never called them back or answered their calls.
“You promise not to leave yet?” Thomas pleaded when Riley asked them again to go upstairs for a few minutes while she talked to Paige. “I have something to show you.”
“Yes, Aunt Riley,” Trey said. “Promise? It’s been forever!”
Riley nodded guiltily. She knew that children shouldn’t have to pay for their parents’ mistakes. She’d seen her fair share of it herself when their mother had died in the fire and her father had laid the blame on her. She didn’t want the triplets to pay the same price, but what other choice did she have at the moment? She told herself that needed space. She told herself that she needed to sort things out alone. But she’d been sorting nothing for two weeks, and all that time, the triplets waited, not realizing that something was wrong.
“I’ll talk to you before I go,” she said. “I promise.”
“Cross your heart?” Thomas asked, his green eyes wide and trusting, and Riley stared at him for a few seconds. He had Gareth’s eyes. They all had Gareth’s eyes.
Riley nodded, fighting back tears. “Cross my heart. Now go upstairs and Mommy will call you so you can come down to see me before I go.”
They watched the boys go upstairs, Priscilla waiting for them at the door to let them in.
“What are you doing here?” Paige asked again. “Did you come to see me? I sure hope so, because I’d really like to talk to you.”
“I came to see Clint. We thought I could arrange to see the boys without you,” Riley said, sighing. “But it turned out to be a big mistake. I can’t do it. I’ll have to work out something else.”
Paige looked stricken. She looked up at the front door, glancing at the windows as if searching for a face, before turning back to face Riley.
“What the hell did he tell you?” she demanded, her eyes growing wide. “It wasn’t his place to tell you anything.”
“He told me everything you should have been the one to tell me in the first place.”
Paige brought her hand to her lips, her face turning pale.
“He had no right to do that,” she whispered.
“You could have told me five years ago what you and Gareth did,” said Riley. “Four years ago? Three years ago? You had all that time to tell me, and you never did.”
Paige’s gaze fell, her shoulders slumping forward in a manner so unlike the supermodel whom Riley had looked up to for so long. Riley saw that she had gray circles under her eyes and that, no matter how well she had applied her make-up, anyone could tell she hadn’t been sleeping well. B
“I don’t know how you can do it, Paige, living like you and Clint do, knowing what you’ve done to your baby sister,” Riley said. “But as long as it makes you happy, I guess you think it’s all right.”
“It’s not all right. It never was,” Paige whispered. “I’m sorry, Riley. I’m so sorry for hurting you. I wanted to tell you so badly, but you were so torn up over Gareth’s leaving, even years later. When you overdosed, I realized that I could never tell you. I didn’t want to lose you — and I don’t want to lose you. I know I should have told you, I really should have. You mean the world to me, you know that.”
“If I meant the world to you, you would never have slept with Gareth in the first place,” Riley said, continuing before Paige could interrupt. “But I get it now. I see why Gareth needed to get away from New York three years ago, and why he wanted me with him, too, before things went wrong and Clint got his hands into everything.”
“What has Clint done?” Paige asked.
“Just what he does best,” Riley said, shrugging. “Protecting his assets, real and imagined. He was only doing what he thought was right — but right only for him and his family. But that’s Clint for you though, always working behind the scenes-”
“Oh, my God,” Paige whispered, realization dawning on her. “He was the one who left you the money!”
“It doesn’t matter now who did what,” Riley said, not wanting to talk about it all over again. She’d talked enough for one day. “I’ve always looked up to you, Paige, and in some sick way, even after everything that’s happened, I think I always will. Only because I’ll always wonder how you manage to keep it all together. How you manage to keep this lie you live in all together.”
“Because it’s not a lie, Riley. And however you see it, I have to do it for the boys,” Paige whispered. “I can’t let them know anything else except that they’re Caldwell’s. Maybe one day they’ll find out, but for now, I can’t. I hope you understand that. I love them more than you will ever know.”
“I know you do,” Riley said, searching Paige’s face. “Do you love him?”
“Of course I do,” Paige said. “I’ve always loved him and I will always love him, no matter how hard he can seem to others. He loves his family more than anything, and I’m sorry he — we — hurt you, Riley. I really am.”
Suddenly Riley stepped forward and hugged her, feeling Paige stiffen in her arms before sobs wracked her sister’s body. Riley was as surprised as Paige doing what she did. She never expected to be the one to make the first move but somehow it didn’t matter who made what move first. Riley had no idea what the hell she was doing, but one thing that she did know was that she still loved Paige, no matter what happened between them. She was family, and as Paige always reminded her, family always stuck together.
“Take care of the boys, Thomas most of all. He’s quite sensitive,” Riley said quietly as she stepped away, hoping her tears would not fall. “Probably something he got from me. You know, me being too emotional and all.”
“Aunt Riley, are you done yet?” Thomas called out from the top of the stairs. He was holding something Riley recognized was something he’d made at preschool, a folded piece of construction paper with his name scrawled at the top in glitter glue, and next to it, in capital letters.
I LOVE AUNT RILEY.
Riley fought back the tears as she nodded. She wished this wasn’t happening, that it was all happening too fast and she couldn’t understand how to deal with the emotions hitting her all at the same time. But she needed to run as far away from them, if only to escape from the emotions that overwhelmed her.
“I’m done talking with your mother, Thomas. Why don’t you guys come down and say good-bye to your Aunt Riley? I’m going away for a little bit but I want my extra long hugs before I go.”
When will you be back? Did I do something wrong? Can you still stay and read us a story — just one? Will you put up my drawing on your wall? It’s a drawing of me, Aunt Riley. Where are you going?
“Riley, please don’t do this,” Paige said, reaching for Riley, but Riley held her hand up.
“I need to do this for me, Paige. So for once, please don’t tell me what to do.”
Riley couldn’t remember when she had last stopped by the old house in Jackson Heights. After the apartment fire, their father had refused to move into another apartment or house that had a second floor. And so with Paige’s first big paycheck working as a catalog model, she put a down payment on a small 3-bedroom, 2-bath house with a small front lawn and even smaller backyard. Forget that it wasn’t in the greatest neighborhood, it was theirs, and after a few years, it was paid for.
As Riley walked the three blocks from the subway station, she didn’t know what she was doing in the old neighborhood, though she knew she needed closure before she could move on. So why not another round of pain, she thought, laughing at the thought of what she was really doing — facing the man who’d probably shaped her more than any man ever did. That was why she hugged Paige when she should have slapped her sister, right? Because she was just a pathetic mess.
How ironic, she thought. She should be happy, almost gloating that she was able to speak to Paige and not be reduced to a puddle of tears at her sister’s feet. She should be celebrating over whiskey sours back in the city. Instead, here she was walking towards the house where she’d been told she was nothing over and over again. And she was miserable.
Before getting on the R train to Jackson Heights, she’d texted Ashe and told him that her talk with Clint had turned out “OK” and that she was alright. She just needed to be alone for a while.
I’ll be right here
, he had texted back.
Please remember that you’re not alone.
Riley found herself wondering what she’d done to deserve someone like Ashe – if she even deserved someone like him. Just like she had told him in Atlantic City, she often wondered when everything would come crashing down, when the dream would end and she’d wake up all alone again, with only Miss Bailey for company, and her mother’s old books that still smelled of smoke from over ten years ago.
Still, she’d managed to push such thoughts away. And the last two weeks with him were the happiest two weeks of her life. It was all about revelation, mostly about him simply because she insisted on knowing everything about him, that way, she wouldn’t be able to talk about herself, Paige, or how much she missed the triplets. He was a country boy at heart and she loved that. It seemed to complement her city-ness, and she couldn’t wait to see where he grew up and ride one of the two horses that he owned, stabled in the old farmhouse where his family still lived. Just modernized, that’s all, but mum and dad love the view.
They prepared dinner together on cold nights when he wasn’t up to being out and having people surreptitiously take pictures of them with their camera phones. Some nights they simply played his old records and twice, she convinced him to rehearse a screenplay with her, watching him get into the zone and emote for her. Most nights and early mornings before the sun rose, she made love to him, wanting to memorize every line on his face, every muscle on his torso that tensed when her hand or her mouth would drift lower and hear her name spoken on his lips. She loved how he would turn the tables on her, shifting their roles with him taking control of her and her body, her mind and her heart, leaving her begging for him to fill her, complete her.
She could live forever with Ashe just like that. Yet Riley couldn’t live feeling hollow inside, only feeling complete with him there with her, as if his presence filled the shadow that she was. For that’s what she had always felt ever since her mother died — a shadow.
A shadow her father found solace in blaming his wife’s death on, the same shadow her sister tried her best to protect from everything else — even from the truth.
There was a light in the front of the house when Riley pushed open the wire and metal fence, noting that at least the grass was clipped short and on the outside, the property looked decent. Paige hired some local company to make sure the outside looked presentable, just as she took care of the property taxes long after she paid for the house in full before she married Clint. Riley took care of the utilities.
Her father was sitting in front of the television set, still the old style tube TV that needed a converter to show the local channels. He glanced at her briefly as she walked in but turned his attention back to whatever he was watching. A can of beer in one hand, the remote in the other. He was wearing a white short sleeve undershirt and pajama bottoms, his feet in slippers that revealed unclipped toenails. Riley wondered if Paige would need to hire someone to take him to the podiatrist, too.
“Hi, Dad,” Riley said, closing the door behind her.
“What are you doing here?”
“Just wanted to see you. Maybe talk to you,” Riley said as she stood next to the TV, hoping he would look at her. He’d stopped looking at Riley since after his wife died, since the doctors who assured him that Millie was strong and would make it, died anyway when an errant blood clot decided to park itself inside her lung and stay awhile. Sure, he’d look at her, Riley thought, but he never saw her.
“Alright,” he said, just before belching. “Then talk.”
“Won’t you look at me?”
“What do you want from me, Riley? I’ve had a long day at work and I’m tired,” her father said, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Just say what you want to say.”
“Why do you hate me so much?”
Her father’s eyes fluttered, his gaze finally settling on her for a brief moment. But as soon as Riley saw it, saw his acknowledgement that she really was there, it was gone, and soon he was back staring at the TV screen again.
He didn’t say anything. He just took a deep breath and exhaled, his face clouding. Then he downed the rest of his beer, crumpled it in his hand and tossed it into a pile of other beer cans in a pink trashcan next to him. It was one of those cutesy plastic bins one picked up from the dollar store.
Riley took a deep breath and walked towards him. She knelt in front of him, both her hands gripping the ends of the arm rests, as if caging him. Why did her father have to freeze like that? She wondered as she looked at him. She knew she was trembling. She was scared.
But when one has been rejected for so long, what else was there to be afraid of?
“I didn’t cause mom’s death,” she said slowly. “I was only ten years old and I was home from school because I had the flu. I know you loved her, dad. You worshipped her, and it’s the way you treated her then — like a queen — that I know how it feels to be loved by someone. It’s that look you used to give her when you came home from the garage, the way you would dance with her even if she was in her wheelchair and you never noticed it.”
“Don’t-” Her father’s voice cracked as his eyes welled up with tears. He looked away from her, his eyes staring into space, his mouth set in straight line.
He could easily push her away, even kick her if he wanted like he did once so long ago, or demand that she leave. But he didn’t do any of that. He simply looked away from her, his breathing becoming deeper.
“Look at me, dad,” Riley pleaded.
“You know I can’t do that,” he whispered. “You killed her. If it weren’t you, she’d still be alive today. My Millie would still be around. She’d still be laughing, saying my name. She had the most beautiful voice.”
No, she wouldn’t, Riley wanted to tell him. She wouldn’t be able to do anything once the MS progressed. But no matter how true, it would have been cruel. In many ways, the fire had memorialized her mother before the disease would have progressed further. Though she couldn’t walk anymore, she could still use her arms, reading her books out loud to Riley. She could still cook, though they were the type of meals one threw together in the crockpot. She could still smile and laugh.
“I miss her, too, dad,” Riley said. “But I didn’t kill her. The fire did. The smoke did. I didn’t.”
She could have told her father that she’d tried to get her mother to get off her wheelchair and make it down the steps.
Just grip the railings, mom, we can do it.
But her mother didn’t even want to try. She said no, pushed Riley away, and told her to go down the stairs alone. That she, Riley, could do it. She was strong enough.
You’ll be fine, my darling
, she had said.
You’re strong. Now be brave and go!
But she had refused, clinging to her mother even as the fire approached the landing. She had screamed, the sound of crackling fire filling the room, the heat hotter than she’d ever felt before, coming from downstairs where she’d later learn that their first floor neighbor had fallen asleep with a cigarette in bed, and books and newspapers all around him.
It’s for the best, love. I’m tired. One day you’ll understand. Now go, or I’ll be forced to push you down the stairs.
But of course, Riley didn’t go. She stayed with her mother, even after the door, a window, or a wall — she couldn’t remember now — popped and a piece of wood hit her in the arm and she screamed and smoke spilled into the hallway where they’d been waiting at the top of the stairs for help. Riley saw that smoke in her dreams, like fog rolling in, filling the corridor, creeping up the stairs, one step at a time.
“I didn’t kill her,” Riley said as her father’s breathing came in deep bursts, like he was struggling to breathe. As she pulled herself up, his breathing calmed and she wondered how her presence so close to him could make him feel like he was drowning. Did he hate her that much?
Still, it was something Riley had no control over. And she was done with worrying about things she couldn’t control — not that she would have wanted to control them if she could. She didn’t want to turn into Clint, micro-managing other people’s lives without their permission or knowledge. She didn’t want to be the grand master of other people’s lives — just her own.
“I hope you have a good Thanksgiving, dad,” she said. In the past, she and Paige usually came by to say hello, bearing sliced turkey and ham for they could never stay too long, not when their dad usually had friends over, like Gareth’s dad and other guys without families from the garage where he worked.
“Aren’t you coming?” He asked, his voice raspy.
“Would you want me to?”
“Not really. Not with that attitude,” he replied and Riley nodded, the pain in her chest deepening. She had asked for it this time, she thought. She should have known better than to ask him.
She nodded, finally done with the self-immolation, even if it were all emotional with no physical wounds to hide. She knew she had come here to do one thing, and she’d done it. She’d done what she could. Maybe she would keep reaching out to him like this, not caring whether she’d get the same answer though always hoping that one day, he’d tell her that he really did care for her, that it wasn’t her fault. But who was she fooling?
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she said, moving away from him and allowing him view of the TV screen again. “And Merry Christmas. I probably won’t be able to see you for the holidays.” Or at all, if she wanted to say the truth, but Riley doubted it would faze him. She had to stop being his whipping boy. Or was it whipping girl?
“Why? Where are you going?”
She shrugged. “Nowhere. I’ll still be around. I just can’t be where I’m not wanted.”
Her father frowned as Riley headed towards the door, reaching for the doorknob.
“She called you her Mini-Millie. Did you know that?”
Riley stopped and turned to look back at him. “No, I didn’t.”
“That’s why I can’t stand to look at you. You look just like her — only you’re not her. You’re just the one who killed her,” he said, his eyes looking into space as he popped open another can of beer and took a sip. “I just want her back, Riley. Is that too much to ask? I just want my wife back.”
When her father finally burst to tears, Riley took a step towards him but he brought up his hand, palm facing her. It felt like a slap to the face, but then, Riley realized that she should have known better. How many more times would she do this? How many more times would she be able to handle his rejection of her?
“I didn’t kill her, dad,” Riley said. “And I won’t let you make me believe that I did either. Not anymore. It’s just too much and I’m tired carrying it around. I couldn’t help being ten. I couldn’t help being too small to help her down the stairs. But she didn’t want to go down the stairs. Can you understand that? She could have, but she didn’t want to.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what she wanted,” he said quietly. “You didn’t know what she wanted.”
Her father wiped the tears from his face and glared at her. This time, she realized that he really was seeing her. Or maybe it was her just hoping he was seeing her.
“Just get out,” he said. “If you came here to say good-bye, then you’ve done it. But you’ll be back. I know it. You always come back.”
Riley sighed. It was useless, and she didn’t need to stand there one more minute feeling herself being weighed down by the guilt all over again. She’d allowed it to frame her whole life and all her relationships for so long, and she needed desperately to move forward.
“Bye, dad,” she said, opening the door and letting herself out. She’d tried all that she could and there was just no use.
Riley Eames simply needed to move on.