Face the Music

by Salsbury, JB

  “Okay,” I say in my dino voice and make it walk as poutily as it can to the barn, which is really an old shoebox.

  We play for what feels like three hours—though in reality, it’s only one hour tops—when I hear the front door open. I check the time. Ben shouldn’t be home for another forty-five minutes. I hop up, fearing whoever walked in isn’t Ben at all. When I head to the living room, I stop in my tracks when I see Ben—tall, broad, and in his workout clothes—standing at the kitchen table.

  His eyes take me in from head to bare feet and he grins. “Hey.”

  “You’re early.”

  He drops a stack of mail on the table and turns more fully toward me. “Yeah. I wanted to get a shower and get Elliot fed. I have plans tonight.” His smile grows.

  Warmth blooms in my chest. “I guess I should go home and do the same.”

  “No rush.” He nods at the dinosaur in my hand. “Looks like I may have interrupted something.”

  “Dad, you wanna play dinosaur stables with us?” Elliot makes her way toward him while struggling to get her Barbie’s arm into a tiny shirt.

  “How can I say no?” Ben says.

  We head back to the tiny stable on Elliot’s floor. Ben’s presence seems to suck all the air out of the room. His leg brushes against mine when we sit to play, and the heat of his powerful leg against mine lights up my skin.

  “Here, you take this one.” Elliot hands her dad a plastic dino, this one much bigger and with more teeth than mine.

  I try not to breathe too deeply to keep my eyes from rolling back at the scent of Ben’s skin.

  He takes the toy. “Who is this guy?”

  “That’s the dad,” she says.

  “Seems appropriate.”

  “His name is George and he’s married to Phyllis,” Elliot goes on to explain. “And that is their baby, Max.”

  “Which one is Phyllis?” Ben says from his casual position on the floor, elbow propping himself up, his long, tan legs stretched out behind me.

  “That one.” Elliot points at the animal in my hand.

  “They’re not even the same species.” I contemplate picking up a different dino because playing make-believe husband and wife with Ben, even in animal form, feels like crossing a line.

  “But they love each other,” she says. “And they’re both meat-eaters, so they don’t fight at meals about what they eat.”

  “That’s helpful,” Ben says softly.

  “I’ll be baby Max and you can be Phyllis.” I hand the figurine back to Elliot, but she refuses to take it.

  “I can’t. I’m the stable girl.” She walks her Barbie around, throwing imaginary food to the animals while giving George and Phyllis imaginary hot dogs.

  “Now it’s nighttime, so all of them have to go to sleep.” She lays the animals on their sides and covers them with felt blankets. “Here’s the blanket for George and Phyllis.”

  “They have to share?” asks Ben as he lays the toy in the shoebox.

  “Moms and dads sleep under the same blanket, Dad.”

  I smile sadly at how Elliot seems to really feel like her dad might not know that. I lay my animal next to Ben’s in the shoebox. “I get the feeling George is going to be a bed hog.”

  “No way!” he says in mock offense. “Phyllis probably snores with that massive nose.”

  I gasp. “How dare you point out her flaws. She’s been self-conscious about that for years but can’t find a plastic surgeon who’ll touch it.”

  “It’s called a crest, and all dilophosaurus have one.” Elliot covers each animal with a blanket while Ben and I smile at each other.

  “Call it whatever you want, it still makes her snore, so George needs his own blanket to cover his ears while he sleeps.”

  “He can’t cover himself with anything, not with those tiny arms. He’ll need Phyllis to help, so he should apologize, get back in her good graces.”

  Elliot giggles. “Kiss!”

  Our heads whip around simultaneously, but it’s Ben who chokes out, “What?”

  “Kiss!” she says happily. “You’re married and you should kiss before you go to sleep.”

  I feel Ben’s eyes on me. I also feel heat rising in my cheeks, which is ridiculous considering the things I’ve done in my life. Making two dinosaurs kiss is the least embarrassing thing I’ve ever done. But something about doing it with Ben has me all mixed up inside, and I find that highly unnerving.

  He stands up his T-Rex, and I follow along, doing the same with my dilophosaurus. “Good night, Phyllis. Thank goodness I don’t have ears so that I’ll be able to sleep through your sawing logs.”

  I smirk. “Good night, George. I’m really, really sorry about your teenie tiny arms. After the snoring comment, you’re going to wish you could use them for more than pulling on your blanket.”

  Ben barks out a laugh.

  Elliot claps and yells, “Kiss!”

  We bring the toys together and press their jagged-toothed open mouths together.

  “Ouch!” I say. “You bit me!”

  Elliot falls over, laughing.

  Ben’s grinning, but there’s a heat in his eyes that makes me squirm.

  “Kiss again!” Elliot says.

  I tuck my dino into the shoebox and push myself up to stand. “Sorry, midget. My time here is up.” And this is some whacked out foreplay that’s strangely working. Too well even.

  “I’ll walk you out.” Ben stands. “Clean this up, okay?”

  Elliot grumbles but agrees. I tell her goodbye and feel Ben at my heels as I walk down the hallway to grab my purse and shoes.

  “You get some sleep?” he asks as I slip on my Vans without untying the laces.

  “Yes, thank you.” I push my hair out of my face, wondering when anyone last cared about how much sleep I got. “I think I slept for fifteen hours last night.”

  “Good.”

  “So uh…” I fumble with my keys. “What’s the plan?”

  “Donna should be here at five. I’ll pick you up at five thirty.”

  “Where are we going?”

  He cocks a brow. “That, Ms. Kendrick, is a surprise.”

  “But how will I know what to wear?”

  “It doesn’t matter what you wear. Wear whatever you’re most comfortable in.”

  “You should know, I’m comfortable in heels and a micro-mini, so if your plan involves walking or hiking or some other kind of physical activity”—I swear his eyes flare—“you’re going to have to tell me.”

  He steps a foot closer. “No physical activity. Dress however you want.”

  I fold my arms and study him. “I don’t know if I like all the secrecy.”

  “Weren’t you saying just yesterday that I couldn’t surprise you?”

  I nod.

  “Let’s see if you’re right.”

  I have to turn away from him or I’m liable to take a flying jump and wrap myself around his tall, broad body like a howler monkey.

  “See you soon, Ash.”

  I repress a shiver at the sound of my name on his lips. “See you tonight, Ben.”

  Ben

  “Where are you going again?”

  I’ve been purposefully vague with Donna about my plans for the night, hoping she wouldn’t dig too deep or read too much into my going out on a date. But she hasn’t even put her purse down yet and she’s already asking questions.

  “Dinner and then to a concert at the MIM.” I tuck my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans and grab my keys. “I should be home around ten, but I’ll text you and let you know.” I feel her eyes on me while I hunt down my phone. “I left cash for a pizza and the number is on the fridge. Elliot hates pepperoni.”

  “Are you going with a work colleague or…”

  I look at her and try to keep myself from smiling. I won’t lie to Donna, but I can’t tell her I’m going with Ashleigh. Not yet. Not when the possibility of nothing happening between us after this date is so high. As it is, I’m trying to ignore the sha
me I feel at stepping out on my wife. I tried taking off my wedding ring three times while showering and getting dressed, and every single time, I ended up putting it back on. I’m taking a leap of faith that things will go well tonight, but there’s a high probability this will be the first and last date I ever go on.

  “Not exactly. No.”

  Her entire expression changes to one of interest and excitement. “Ben, are you going out with a woman? Who is she?” Her voice is higher, louder.

  “I’m not ready to talk about her yet. It’s just a date.” Why does that feel like a lie?

  “This is wonderful! I had a feeling when I walked in and saw you dressed like that”—she motions toward me—“and you smell so good. Your hair is different. I’m so excited for you.”

  I lower my voice. “Thank you, but try not to give anything away to Elliot, okay? I don’t expect you to lie, but I don’t want to upset her by telling her I’m out with—on a date.”

  “I understand,” she whispers.

  “Thank you. I owe you.”

  She waves me off. “Go. Have fun. God knows you deserve it.”

  I hug and kiss my daughter goodbye, but she hardly seems to care that I’m leaving as Donna sets up a bunch of crafting items she brought over. I’m pulling out of my driveway a little earlier than planned, so I stop for gas, a couple bottled waters, then head to Ashleigh’s.

  I realize halfway there that I never asked her for her address and she never offered it. She must have known I’d know where she lives because she and Bethany used to share the apartment. I may have overstepped by not asking for her address though, and when I find a place to park in the strip of guest parking spaces, I’m fighting off a wave of insecurity about not getting her address from her.

  I’m ten minutes early, and as I stand with a raised fist about to knock on her door, I wonder if I should text her and let her know I’m here. Deciding it’s too late, I go ahead and knock. The person who answers the door isn’t Ashleigh, but rather the dark-haired woman from the club. Stormie. She’s dressed in a sports bra and tight workout pants, her thick hair pulled away from her face and her skin flushed from—I assume because of her clothes—exercise.

  “Hi, I’m Ben. You must be Stormie.”

  She’s a pretty girl with big brown eyes and severe cheekbones. She grins and steps back for me to come inside. “I saw you at the club the other night.”

  I smile as I pass her into the living room.

  “You’re the pastor.”

  “I am.”

  She cocks her hip and folds her arms beneath her breasts, but I keep my gaze firmly planted on her face. Usually it takes no effort to keep my eyes above a woman’s shoulders, I’ve been a master at respecting women with my gaze since I went to seminary. Ashleigh has been the occasional exception as of late.

  “The good pastor decides to take a little walk on the wild side, huh?”

  I laugh. “If dinner and a small concert is considered ‘wild,’ then I’ve been out of the game for far longer than I thought.” I thumb the backside of my wedding ring like an itch I can’t scratch.

  Her smile turns predatory. “Let me know if you’re ever interested in trading in for a different model.” She struts by me. “Ash and I have a history of sharing our toys.”

  She winks and disappears down the hallway. I’m left staring at nothing with a nasty case of what the hell does that mean working its way through my system. I’m not dumb, I know exactly what she was implying, I just don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.

  “You’re early!”

  I jerk my head around to see Ashleigh hopping on one foot while slipping the other into an intricate heel with criss-cross straps. My mind blanks out momentarily when I see what she’s wearing—a simple, pale pink dress with thin straps. It’s not too tight and looks as soft as silk. Her hair is pulled back in a low bundle that showcases the gentle lines of her face. Her makeup isn’t as dark as usual, just enough to accentuate her blue eyes and full lips.

  With her shoes on, she steps closer with a concerned expression. “How long have you been waiting?”

  “Not long.” I clear my throat and blink my eyes back into focus after having fallen into an Ashleigh haze. “You are stunning, Ash.”

  Her expression falls as if my compliment scares her, but she shakes off whatever she’s feeling and nods toward my jeans. “You’re wearing my favorite pair of jeans.”

  “I didn’t realize you had a favorite pair of my jeans. What exactly is it that makes these your favorite?” The second the question is out of my mouth, I regret it, because if I know Ashleigh, she’ll answer me honestly. I’m not sure I’m ready for her response.

  “Your ass and your package look fantastic in them.”

  Yep. Not ready. Heat crawls up my neck to my face.

  I’m grateful when she laughs and turns away from me. “Let me grab my purse and we can go.”

  Being close to a woman as honest as Ashleigh takes some getting used to. It’s refreshing, sure, but it’s difficult to take when all that honesty is directed at me.

  “Where are we going?”

  I open the apartment door for her and follow her out. “Dinner. Are you hungry?”

  She stops on the stairs and looks over her shoulder. “I’m always hungry.”

  I pretend to miss the double-entendre because she could very well just be talking about food and not sex. I wonder, with Ashleigh’s history with dating, if we need to talk about what to expect from tonight. I’d hate for either of us to end the night disappointed.

  At the car, I open the door for her. The car on, radio low, I point us toward the 101 to head to North Scottsdale.

  “I hope you like sushi,” I say.

  “Sushi’s great, and might I say, you smell really good tonight.”

  “Thank you. Elliot picked out cologne for me for Father’s Day and I never wear it to preach. Special occasions only.”

  “I’m honored.” I grip the wheel and wonder which direction to take the conversation when she says, “So you met Stormie.”

  “I did.”

  “I’m sorry she hit on you.”

  “How would you know she hit on me?”

  “I assumed she would. You might not realize it, but you’re kind of a beacon for girls like us.” Her brows draw down.

  “Girls like what?”

  She looks out the window. “Nothing.”

  “Ash. Come on, look at me.”

  She does, but her face is etched with unease.

  “We’re never going to relax enough to enjoy ourselves tonight if we’re not honest about how we’re feeling.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  I chuckle and try to release the tension in my shoulders. “Um… well, truthfully? I’m out of my element here. I never imagined myself dating again. I want to be here, don’t get me wrong, but I’m fighting some pretty intense feelings.”

  She frowns.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I’m being too honest.”

  “No, no, this is good. I need to know where you’re at.”

  “And I’d like to know where you’re at. I know, in the past, you said you had certain expectations on dates. What are your expectations tonight?” I brace for her honesty because Ash is nothing if not brutally honest.

  “I’m just happy to be here. I never imagined I’d be on an actual date with you. I have no expectations beyond an enjoyable evening.” She leans over. “And I don’t mean sexually, so you can release the death grip you have on the steering wheel.”

  I laugh and do just that, releasing my pent-up concern. “That’s good to know.”

  “Yeah.” Do I hear a hint of disappointment in her voice? “Now that that’s out of the way…”

  We enjoy the twenty-minute drive, talking about Jesiah and Bethany, funny things Elliot said. She asks me questions about people from the church. I notice she tends to avoid talking about herself. That just won’t do.

  I don’t miss the way men’s heads turn when Ashle
igh walks into the restaurant, or the way women avoid looking directly at her. We’re seated at a corner booth at Tru Sushi—quiet, private. We scoot in on opposite sides and move to the middle until our knees touch. The warmth of her bare skin against my jeans is a small bit of comfort, but not nearly enough.

  I order a beer and Ashleigh orders a lychee martini.

  We peruse the sushi menu, pick a few rolls, and I’m surprised how easy it is to be with Ash. She has the same ease Bethany does, which is surprising because they’re so different in almost every other way.

  “Did you grow up in Arizona?” I sip my beer casually, pretending I didn’t just ask her something I know she’s been trying to avoid.

  “No. I was born in Dallas. Did we order edamame?”

  Nice try. “We did. Born in Dallas and no accent. You must’ve come to Arizona pretty young?”

  “Not really. Some time in high school.” She sips her drink. “I don’t really remember.”

  She’s lying. A move to another state would’ve been memorable to a teenage girl. But I don’t want to corner her into lying, so I change the subject. We talk about music, her job, and she tells me some of the stories about the people she works with.

  “I should’ve known after bailing the girl out of jail that having Stormie as a roommate was going to be a nightmare.”

  “She seems like a nice enough girl.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she was very nice to you. What did she say to you anyway?”

  I’m mesmerized by Ashleigh’s mouth, her straight teeth, and the way she licks her upper lip after each sip of her cocktail. Would it be too much to tell her so? “Uh, nothing really.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Seems like we’re both still hiding a little, Ash. “I am. Only because I don’t want to upset you.”

  “Oh, now you have to tell me what she said.”

  “It was nothing, honestly. It was mostly flattering, I think.”

  She studies my face as if searching for the truth in my eyelashes. “She propositioned you, didn’t she?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “Oh my gosh, you see what I have to deal with? How can I live with a person who propositions my dates?” She leans in close. “Tell me everything she said.”