TAUT (32 page)

But
fuck
Tony. I don’t even know this guy. And yeah, Ash loves him. I respect that. But if he’s not gonna take care of her and Kate, then I don’t have to walk away.

I have four more hours on the road with her. Probably five with traffic. I go back to our bedroom and grab some jeans and a t-shirt Ashleigh packed for me from the Vail house. I laugh when I read this one. Fucking Ash. It says
Jedi in the streets, Sith in the sheets
. I don’t even remember
owning
this shirt.

After I’m cleaned up and dressed I go back to the living room and Ashleigh is all ready, sitting on the couch waiting for me. I grab my keys and wallet and Ashleigh stuffs some pastries in her diaper bag and hoists it over her shoulder with Kate in her other arm. “Here,” I say, grabbing the bag. “I got it.”

“Thanks,” she says, giving me a look as we leave the room and walk down the hall. “What’s up with you, anyway?”

I pretend I don’t hear her and just punch the button for the elevator. Luckily there’s one waiting and the doors open up immediately so we are momentarily distracted by the process of getting ourselves inside.

The doors close and she’s staring at me. “Ford.”

“Yes,” I say as I stare at my phone and pretend to text someone.

“What’s wrong?”

I look up and smile. “Business, Ashleigh. Sorry. I have a meeting this afternoon that I should try and make. So I’m thinking about that. They’ve been planning production schedules all week without me. I’m playing catch up.”

Ronin would be proud.

“Oh,” she says, like that was not the answer she was expecting. I’m not sure what she was expecting, but I’m not in the mood to talk about it just yet. I’m not avoiding the topic of Tony, but why end this trip before we have to? We’ll be in LA soon enough and I’m pretty sure Tony is the only topic on the table when we get there.

The elevator doors open and we walk out to the valet area. The Bronco has been washed. Actually, I’d call it detailed because it smells like
Guy on a Hot Date
and the tires are gleaming in the sun from an Armor All application.

Ashleigh buckles Kate in the back and then jumps up front with me. “If we’re lucky, she’ll sleep the whole way.”

“I could use some luck, so here’s hoping.”

She lets out a long breath and settles into her seat. I pull out and make our way to the 15 freeway that will take us all the way to the 10 in LA. It’s warm out but not hot. The Bronco likes the extreme heat just about as much as it enjoys the extreme cold. So luckily, Vegas in January is mostly mild. As soon as we clear the city limits and are heading west, Ashleigh kicks her feet up, lowers her seat, and closes her eyes.

“You just woke up, how can you be tired already?”

“Ford,” she says as she lowers the sunglasses the hotel gave us yesterday. “I’m a new mom. With anyone but you, I’d choose sleep over sex any day of the week, that’s how fucking fantastic it feels to close my eyes and forget about life.” I can see her out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t want her to see my smile, so I keep focused on the road. “And I do not want to hear about my swearing today. Yesterday you called the shots so today it’s my turn.”

“Should we play a game to see who calls the shots?”

She slides her glasses back into position and sighs. “Me. I call the shots.”

“You cheat, Miss Li. You only play until you win, then you back out.”

“I’m too tired to entertain you today, Ford. I think you should entertain me.”

I get a wicked grin.

“With my clothes on,” she amends.

“I’m a master of entertaining. However, you still owe me something.”

She snorts. “Like what?”

“My favor. You promised to tell me about school.”

“Oh,” she says with more relief than might be necessary. “Yeah, whatever. What do you want to know?”

“What kind of program, to start.” She laughs, then covers her mouth and when I look over she’s blushing. “What?” I ask, laughing with her. “You’re getting a master’s degree in porn or something? Why are you blushing?”

“No, it’s just kinda funny.”

I wait for it.

“I’m a psychologist. Well, I will be if I ever finish grad school and pass my licensing exam.”

Psychologist. I should not be surprised—she was reading my mind back in Vail just like I was reading hers. “Will you? Finish the program?”

She slides her sunglasses down her nose again. “No. I never wanted to be a stupid psychologist. But I had to pick something, and that was as good a major as any and it was all paid for out of my trust. It was a way to get money. A way to survive and become educated at the same time. Plus, it pacified my father when I left home.”

“He needed pacifying. Why?”

She’s silent for this one. For a long time, like more than a minute. When she finally speaks her speech has an edge to it. “You know that story about the boy who drew cats? Well, that’s me. I draw cats. But no one wanted to let me draw cats and I never had the good fortune of having my cat drawings come to life to save a shitload of people to prove I’m worthwhile, so I had to do something else.”

“So what do you really do? When you draw cats?”

“It’s stupid.” She turns her head to the window and watches the desert for a little while. I let her, because I’m not starting an argument on this ride. I’m deflecting. I’m in denial. I’m postponing. I’m stalling.

“You’re super smart, Ford. I mean—Eagle Scout? Those equations in your bedroom? The sign language, the Japanese, and probably a lot more shit I have no clue about. I’m not a physics expert or anything, but I’ve taken my share of science classes and those equations were way up there on the genius level. So why did you become a film producer?”

“I wanted to draw cats, Ashleigh. And my dad didn’t give a fuck what I did in school. He told me to choose something fun. I got offers from every top ten school in the country and quite a few big ones overseas as well. And I went to a public university in my hometown and studied how other people who wanted to draw cats make shit up and put it on film. Because it looked fun.”

She settles back into her seat and sighs.

“I get it. I get
you
, Ashleigh. And you get me. I understand what it means to be misunderstood. So just tell me, what kind of cats do you draw?”

“Poetry,” she whispers so softly I can barely hear her over the engine and the wind from the open window.

“Poetry. Do you have some with you that I can read?”

“No, I left my journal at the hotel because I’m tired of thinking about it. If I read that stuff one more time I might really go insane.” She pauses, but it’s almost an afterthought. Like she was going to say something but changed her mind.

I wait her out.

She presses the button for both our windows and rolls them up to quiet things down. “I can tell you one from memory, if you want. They’re not complicated, Ford.”

She says this like she feels the need to explain herself, and that saddens me. She should not have to explain why she wants to draw cats.

“I write them simple on purpose. Because my life….” She trails off for a few seconds, then sighs and gives it another shot. “My life is so, so fucked up. It’s twisted and complicated, and filled with
shit
.” She swallows hard. “Bad shit. But my poems are the opposite of that. When my life is unraveling, and everything about it is slack, my poems are taut. My poems take the fray and wind it back together.”

“Taut.” I say the word out loud as I scan the desert landscape.

“They’re short and simple. Not long and complicated and pretty, but very concise and controlled. And honest. I usually take lyrics to songs that I love, choose all the words in that song that stand out, then make up my own poem using those words. That’s how I like to write them. Every word is ordinary. But when I mix the words up and put them together in a new way, that’s what makes the difference. That’s what makes them special. It changes everything.”

I get off the freeway at the next exit, take the off-ramp over towards a truck stop, pull off on a dirt road, and stop the vehicle in the middle of the Nevada desert.

“What are you doing?” Ashleigh asks.

I pull the e-brake and turn to face her. “Listening.”

She stares at me, her eyes darting back and forth across my face. “Did he send you, Ford? Please. You can tell me if he did.”

“Who, Ashleigh? You’ve asked me that question three times now. Why the hell do you think someone sent me?”

“Why are you helping me?”

I throw up my hands and let out a long breath. “I don’t know. I was there. I was reeling from a volatile conversation with Rook back in Denver and I just… I don’t know. I just didn’t have it in me to be a dick, I guess. I was too wounded to put effort into getting rid of you, so I just…”

Her expression changes from interested to disappointed. I owe her more than this. If I want her to trust me, I owe her more that this lame shit.

“I wanted company. You needed help. It made me feel… wanted. You were hungry that morning at the hotel and when I said I’d take care of your car you looked so… relieved. And thankful. And then when I told you to put the baby in the van after things were settled and you didn’t question me, it felt good to be in control of two helpless people. It felt good to drive you to a house and get you inside. And buy things that you needed at the store. It felt good to take care of you.”

“But…” Her eyes are all watery now and I just know she’s gonna cry. I don’t want to make her cry. “But you could’ve just given me money and left me at the hotel. Why did you take me
home
with you? And don’t say they didn’t have rooms, there’s plenty of hotels in Vail and you can afford all of them. So why invest time in me?”

I look back at Kate and shrug. “It was strange to see you take care of her. Even though you had nothing, you gave her everything she needed. You are her whole world. She is your whole world. The two of you are a team. And I was missing my team. Ronin and Spencer and Rook are my team. I wanted—I
want
to be a part of your team.”

I release a long breath. I cannot fucking believe I just said that shit.

I turn away and look out the window.

Her words tumble out and when I turn back to her, she’s got her eyes closed.

“I feel the stress of an eager distance.

I clean the mess of a swelling indifference.

I raise the walls

And steal your love,

But it’s never enough

To meet my needs,

Or heal me from

The ruin of rest and decline,

Falling through the fault line.”

She opens her eyes and the tears are gathering. I swallow. “Who did you write that for?”

She sniffs, wipes her eyes, and then turns away. “My father,” she says. “He prefers dogs.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

I want more.

I want so much more.

I want Ashleigh, I want her baby, and I want a fucking house that is not filled with cold ultra-modern shit. Somewhere that isn’t the suburbs, but I’d make allowances if that’s what she wanted. I want dinner at a table with Kate in a high chair. I want Ash in my bed every night. I want to listen to her thoughts. I want to hear everything she has to say. I want her to write
new
poems, just so I can be the first one to read them and declare her brilliant. I might even want to get her pregnant. Make her tits and belly swollen with my child and then ravish Glowing Ashleigh until she begs me to leave her alone.

I want to keep her forever.

She turns back to me and Composed Ashleigh is in control. “We better get going, huh? You don’t want to miss your meeting.”

“Meeting?” The word barely registers.

“Yeah, you said you have an afternoon meeting and—”

“Right,” I say, releasing the brake. “I’m not sure I’ll make it, so there’s no rush.” I put the truck in gear and pull back onto the highway access road, then get back on the 15.

I am blown. I am destroyed. I am—

“Ford?”

I take a deep breath to calm myself. “Yes, Ashleigh.”

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

“What?”

“For coming all this way just to see him? For not letting go? You can tell me, I get it. It’s crazy. It’s stupid. It’s… it’s… bordering on delusional.”

“Delusional? Who said that?”

“My sister. She thinks she knows everything, but she’s just a bitch. She’s never had to deal with this type of situation. How would she know what’s normal and what’s not? I mean, I’m a psychologist. Maybe I don’t have the master’s degree and the license yet, so I’m not official, but I’m qualified in every other respect. I understand my reaction to this situation isn’t quite…
textbook
. But I figure, it’s my life, right? I’m allowed to live it the way I want. And if I need this last… whatever this is, then I’m not crazy. I just…” She trails off and does not pick it back up. I just glance over at her. I’m not sure what to say. She’s staring out the window, looking down, like she’s watching the road pass by.

“Just what, Ash?”

She swallows and takes a deep breath. She’s been better about the crying since yesterday, but even this is a little warning bell telling me how fragile she is right now. She’s held off the tears for one day and to me this is an accomplishment. “I just need to tell him, Ford. I just need to tell him how much I love him and what life has been like for me since he’s been gone. And I do realize that I went about this the wrong way, I get that.”

I squint my eyes down as I try to make sense of this conversation. I’m not sure what she’s talking about now.

“I shouldn’t have called my sister from Japan, that was my first mistake. I should’ve known she’d never understand. And then when I saw him at the airport, I just sorta freaked out.”

“Wait, what? What are you talking about, Ashleigh?”

She looks over at me and shakes her head. “My road trip. Before you. I flew into LA and my sister had blabbed her mouth off, as usual, and my father sent a driver. I swear to God, I saw that sign that said Miss Li and I almost threw up. So I just walked past and got in a cab. He saw me of course, but what was he gonna do?” She shrugs. “Nothing, he could do nothing. And he was boxed in by other cars, so the cab just left, and I left, and…”