TAUT (13 page)

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

She shakes her head. “No, I can’t. I just can’t. I would, but it’s—”

“OK. That’s OK. But are you two still together? Because to me, it doesn’t look like it’s over.”

She sniffs and looks over at the baby. “It’s over.”

“You just have to have your say, that’s all?”

She nods. “Yes, I just have so much to say to him. I just need to say it to
him
, ya know?”

“OK.” I can deal with this. She just needs closure. It’s totally normal to take some time to figure things out after a big change. I’m no relationship expert, I’ve never actually had a relationship, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand the psychology of a one-sided breakup. “Let’s go get some breakfast. You hungry?” She nods. “I’ll take a shower downstairs so you can use the bathroom up here. If you need me to watch the baby so you can relax a little, I will.”

“No,” she says softly. “I got it. I’m OK, I swear. I just needed to vent. I feel better.” And then she looks up at me and smiles. “But thank you for offering.”

I pull into Jason’s parking lot half expecting the place to be closed, but one bay is open and his brother Jimmy is pulling in a car as I park. “Stay here,” I tell Ashleigh. “I’ll grab your stuff.”

She nods out a yes and says nothing. I’m not convinced she’s OK, but she’s not the least bit argumentative, so I’m enjoying that part of her right now. I leave the van running to keep them warm and then go inside the shop. No one’s at the front desk, so I walk around it and open the door to the garage. Music is blaring and Jason is talking to Jimmy in the far bay where the new car is.

“Hey,” I call out. “I need some stuff out of this car.”

Jason looks and waves to Ash’s car. “It’s open.”

I check the license plate as I walk up to the car—it’s Texas, so that makes me feel better—then pop the hatchback and go around to grab her shit. When Ashleigh said she had a bag of clothes I didn’t expect it to be a plastic grocery bag with one outfit in it for her and yet another footied sleeper for the baby. That’s all the kid’s been wearing since I met her. There’s some stray diapers so I stuff those in the bag, and a stroller. That’s what she really wanted.

“You marrying this girl now or what, Ford? Playing daddy?”

I turn to Jason and he’s laughing, like this is some fun joke. “I’m helping her out, you moron. How’s my Bronco coming?”

“She’ll be done tomorrow, probably around noon. I’m almost done but I’m gonna knock off early today. My nephew’s skiing slalom at Loveland in a couple hours. You wanna come?”

“Fuck you.” I grab the bag and the stroller and walk away.

“Just kidding, Ford,” he calls back.

“Just have my truck ready by noon.” I exit through the mechanic’s door and throw the shit in the back of the van. “You said you had clothes. All I found was a grocery bag with some baby t-shirts, a sleeper, and a pair of jeans.”

“Yeah, clothes,” she says.

“Well, we can pick stuff up in the Village after we eat.”

“My stuff’s not good enough for you?”

I pull away from Jason’s still irritated about his remark, so I say nothing more about it—just head over to the Village, park the van, and get the stroller out for Ashleigh. It’s like a modern marvel of engineering, that thing, but she presses levers and flips it open, and then lies the baby down inside.

“She looks cold. Doesn’t she have a coat?”

“She’s three months old, Ford. Her wardrobe’s a little short on Alpine gear.”

“We’ll get her a snow suit on the way to the restaurant. There’s a baby store.”

“It’s your money,” she mutters as we walk down the sidewalk to the village. “Wow,” she says as we enter the shopping district. “This is pretty swanky. I don’t ski, hate it in fact. So I’ve never been here before.”

“Swanky, yes.” I laugh a little at that. Vail Village is surrounded by five-star hotels built to look like the Bavarian Alps. Why? I have no idea. It’s the fucking Rockies, they should just own it. If I was planning this place I’d make it look like
Deadwood
. “Here’s a baby store right here.”

“They play on your guilt, that’s why the baby store is near the entrance. She’s got like six blankets, Ford. She’s not cold.”

I ignore her and open the door. Ashleigh scoops the baby up and leaves the stroller outside, since the boutiques here are pretty cramped and small.

“Can I help you?” the saleswoman says.

“Yes, I need snow gear for an infant.”

“Oh sure, we have—hey, Ford? Ford Aston?” The woman smiles at me, her eyes picking up interest now that she’s recognized a familiar face. “It’s me, Stacylynn.” She gives me a little wink. “Remember me? Senior year at CU? The Hairy Buffalo New Year’s Party?”

“I never went to that party, but yes, I do remember you, Stacylynn. How have you been?”

“I know, we never made it inside—believe me, I’ve never forgotten that night.” She sways her hips a little as she stares up at me.

“Eh-hemmm,” Ashleigh says. “Do you mind? We’re shopping for baby snowsuits.”

Stacylynn barely acknowledges Ash and if we were together that might piss me off. In fact, it does piss me off. “That part was rather forgettable for me, sorry, Stacy.”

She scowls at me. “All the infant wear is over against the back wall. Let me know if you need help.”

Ash and I walk to the back and she picks up the first one she sees. “This one’s good. Let’s go.”

“What about a hat? And mittens?”

She waves her hand at me and takes the suit up to the counter. I grab a hat and mittens and join her, pay Stacylynn, and then we head back out. Ashleigh slips he baby into the snow suit, which is more like a down-filled cocoon, and pushes the stroller. “So did you live here your whole life? In Vail, I mean? It’s pretty nice.”

“No, I lived in Denver most of the time. I went to school in Denver. But we came here on the weekends, for winter break, and summers. I guess it adds up to about half the year. So it’s home for me.”

“Did you really not remember your tryst with that girl back there?”

I have a photographic memory, I forget nothing. And Stacylynn was what I’d call adventurous. But I know what Ashleigh wants to hear, so I say that instead. “She’s one of many, nothing more. Completely forgettable.”

“Are you gonna forget me?” She keeps walking even though this is a pretty big question. “When we stop hanging out. Will I be just another forgettable girl?”

We walk past a large group of drunk skiers, so I wait until they are behind us before I answer. “I guess that depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you let me forget you.”

“So it’s up to me to hold your attention? What if I forget you? Will you care?”

Normally I’d never participate in a conversation like this, so the fact that I’m even considering it tells me that no, I won’t forget her. She’s different. She’s nice, for one. She’s calm—mostly. And even though she had me pretty wound up this morning with the crying stuff, she’s not being difficult on purpose. But I’m not gonna give in so easily. “I’ll think about you every time I break out a blizzard blanket, that’s for sure.”

“Oh.”

“Or see a pretty woman breastfeeding,” I add before I can stop myself.

She laughs at that. “Perv.” I know my limits, so I say nothing. “You want to watch me, don’t you?”

I look over at her and I swear, my dick does a little jump at her words. “No.” I think about it for a second. “Maybe a little.” She snickers this time. “OK, I’d like to explore my options.”

She has to bite her lip to hold down the smile, but it leaks out anyway.

We reach the diner and I hold the door open and wait for her to push the stroller in. It’s not crowded since breakfast is over and lunch hasn’t started yet. The hostess bends down to coo at the baby, and then Ashleigh asks if they have a booth that might be more private so she can breastfeed. She shoots me a look and I raise my eyebrows and smile. They don’t, not really, it’s a diner. But the waitress takes us to the back where there are only a few other tables.

The baby’s asleep, so she’s not going to be nursing. But the innuendo lingers in my mind. She’s playing with me now. Maybe because of Stacylynn, maybe because I saw her in a vulnerable spot earlier. Maybe because she knows we’re gonna spend the next few days together on the road. I’m not quite sure what she’s thinking, but she’s laughing at me right fucking now. “What?” I ask.

She shakes her head and looks at her menu. “What’s good here?”

Your tits
, I think.
Take them out for me.
They are hard and swollen under her—
my
—t-shirt. “Maybe I should just give you all the shirts in my closet, since you seem to like them so much.”

“I think it’s interesting that you just now noticed I was wearing it.”

“You two ready to order?”

I glance up at the waitress and thank God that it’s not someone I know. “Number seven, scrambled, toast, and turkey bacon.”

“Number eleven, strawberries on top, hash browns and real bacon.”

“And coffee,” we both say at the same time. “Decaf,” Ashleigh adds quickly.

She smiles at us and leaves.

My phone buzzes in my pants and I take it out and check the screen. “Fuck.”

“Who is it?”

“Rook.”

“Who’s Rook?”

I hold up a finger at Ashleigh. “Yes, Miss Corvus.”

“Ford,” she starts calmly. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. OK? Don’t say mean things to make me hang up. I can’t take it.”

“Where’s Ronin?”

“Downstairs. I’m at home.”

“So you’re calling when he’s not around. Why?”

“Ford—”

“Rook, I’m done. I’ve walked away. When I walk away I mean it. I’m not coming back. It’s over.”

“Ford, you don’t end friendships that way. That’s not how you end a friendship. I know we’re still friends. I know we are. You’re just… I dunno. You’re just…
Help me
. Say something, Ford. Help me understand this. You know I love you, you know I do. I just…”

“You just don’t love me like you love Ronin.”

She says nothing to this but Ashleigh’s eyebrows go up. She puts her napkin on the table and starts to rise, but I grab her wrist and shake my head. “Stay here.”

“It sounds private, Ford.”

“Who’s that?” Rook asks.

“My new friend, Ashleigh. We’re driving to LA together. I have to go, Rook. Tell Ronin I said hi.” I press end on the phone and set it down. I’m still holding Ashleigh by the wrist. “It wasn’t private. It’s over.”

Ashleigh sits back against the seat. “I don’t want to be used like that. Whatever you have going on with this girl, don’t make me the reason you hurt her.”

“I’m not. She’s my best friend’s girlfriend. She made her choice, and now I’m over it.”

“And this is why you left Denver and were driving in the mountains on New Year’s Eve?”

“Yes, I had to leave or I’d betray my friend. She and I would both regret it after.”

“So it was the friendship with her boyfriend that had you upset, and not really your relationship with her?”

“Mostly. He and I go way back. We have business together, but beyond that, I’m not interested in betraying him. I’m not a cheater.” At least when it comes to relationships. But I keep that shit tucked away.

Ashleigh thinks about this for a moment, pretending to fuss with the baby’s blankets in the stroller. “So why are you mad at her? If you know it’s best for both of you?”

“I’m not mad, I just don’t want to be a part of her life anymore. I—” I look away and think it through for a second before speaking. “I still want her, I just can’t have her. And she doesn’t want me, not enough, anyway. So what’s the point of continuing to torture myself? It’s better this way.”

“So you’re punishing her. Because she loves you in a way that doesn’t satisfy you?” Ashleigh shakes her head. “That’s fucked up.”

I scowl at her swearing.

“Sorry,” she apologizes. “It just is.”

“She made her choice. She could’ve chosen me, she didn’t. That’s the end of it.”

“So you have a line and if someone crosses it, you just cut them off? Walk away?”

“Doesn’t everyone have a line like that?”

She studies me for a moment. Forming an opinion, maybe. “Well, there’s lines, and then there’s
lines
. Some have a line as thick as the Great Divide. Others the width of a hair. Your line might be microscopic. Do you at least explain your expectations? So people who get close to you understand? Or do you just take what you want and then move on like this all the time?”

I stare at her, angry at that accusation. But I control it before I speak. “For the record, I gave Rook more than anyone else in my entire life. I did everything for her. She only had to ask and I was there. So I did not take anything from her, she took from me.”

“And now you’re pissed and feel used?”

“Are you asking me because you want to sleep with me, Ashleigh? Are you trying to nail down what you can expect from me should that happen?”

“How the hell did you go from what I said to that?”

“Because that’s what people do when they’re thinking about sleeping with someone new. They test the waters by asking questions about the inner workings of previous relationships. Now answer my question. Do you want to know these things so we can push our relationship a little further?”

She gives me a nervous laugh and plays with her earlobe. “Maybe. But I’m not going to let myself be used, Ford. I’m not a piece of trash. I think you’re”—she thinks about her word choice for a moment—“nice-looking. But I’m not interested in being thrown away after you’re
done
, to quote your words. Especially if I don’t know where that line is drawn.”

“What about the ex—whatever he is?”

She takes a deep breath and stares at her hands in her lap. “I need to let go. I need to accept that it’s over. So”—she looks up at me—“maybe starting something new will help.”

“If you think what I have in mind is the beginning of something new, then we definitely need rules.”

She scowls at me. “I didn’t mean it like that. And if we make rules, then we’re playing a game. I’m not in the mood for games.”