by Mary Calmes
“How come?” I asked bluntly, calling him out.
The candid remark interrupted his ooze of silky seduction. “What?”
“Since when have you gone all smooth operator on me? The hell is that?”
“I—I just wanted to see you.”
“How come?”
“Well, as it turns out, you were right. This coming week will be the last free time I have in a while.”
“And?”
“And because it is, I want you to come to LA and spend it with me.”
LA? Since when? “Where are you filming?” I asked to change the subject, give myself a moment to get my bearings.
“I go to Paris next Sunday.”
“Aww, man, I’m so happy for you.”
“Well, there’s no guarantee of anything in Hollywood.”
“Yeah, but being in a huge summer blockbuster can’t hurt one bit.”
“No, it can’t, you’re right.”
Awkward silence. It was nice that he’d invited me to Los Angeles, but there was no way I could go.
“Hey? Did you hear me when I said I wanted you to visit?”
“I did.”
He cleared his throat. “After you drop the kids off or do whatever you’re doing with them on Tuesday, I want you to fly out to LA and spend the rest of the week with me.”
The question needed to be asked. “Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“I mean, why?” I tried to sound playful and not just the confused that I was. “What’s the point? If you’re gonna be filming for the foreseeable future, don’t you want to party and get laid and see friends until you have to go?”
“I do, but I’d like to see you too. I’ve never gotten to show you where I live.”
It sounded harmless.
“You’ll like my house in Malibu; you can see the ocean from the back deck.”
“I’m sure it’s great.”
“Then come down. I want you on a plane and I want you here on Tuesday afternoon. I’ll get you a plane ticket right now.”
“I can get my own plane ticket if I decide to come.”
“If?”
“I have to work and you’re gonna be busy, so maybe I’ll come down for the weekend when we’ll both—”
“No,” he insisted. “You have guys who can watch the damn job sites for three or four days. I know you can do this. The question is, will you?”
It was odd that he was pushing. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just want you here!” he yelled. “I need you here. And I don’t want you there with Mitch-fucking-Thayer who is ten times more beautiful in person than he was on Monday Night Football!”
“Oh yeah?” I posed.
“He is!”
“I’m not arguing with you, the man is stunning.”
His snarl made me laugh.
“But so are you,” I said, because it was the truth. “And you know it.”
“Hage—”
“What is this about?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve never asked me to visit before.”
“I’ve never planned on being gone this long before.”
The length of time should not have mattered; we were friends, nothing more. “But we can catch up if and when you come back.”
“Why do you keep saying if?”
“Because things change, Ash, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to call me or see me or whatever. I want it to be easy.”
“You always think I’m not serious.”
I sighed deeply. “I don’t wanna fight.”
“I don’t either. I just want you to come to LA.”
A vacation would not be a bad thing, and Ash’s company was easy. The issue was, having made a verbal commitment to Mitch, sex was off the table now. “We should talk about something first.”
“And what’s that?”
“If I come, I’m coming as your friend. Not as anything else.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You were happy when I said that even if we couldn’t be lovers, that we’d still be friends.”
“I—no, not particularly.”
“Oh, the hell you weren’t,” I groused. “You were relieved and so was I.”
“So all that means what?”
“That if I come, I’ll be in the guest room,” I apprised him. “You and I are done screwin’ around. Friends is all we are from right this second.”
“What? Why?”
“You know.”
“That’s bullshit!” he exploded. “I haven’t even been gone a whole day!”
“It’s that ancient history we were talking about earlier.”
“I can’t—how is that okay?”
“I’m missing your meaning.”
“How is it fair that you’re giving Mitch Thayer a chance but you won’t give me one?”
Was he kidding? There was no way he was so obtuse. “Are you being funny?”
“No, I’m not being funny! I’m dead serious!”
“Well, for starters, we’re two completely different people who want two completely different things.”
“We both want to be in a relationship. How is that different?”
“Yeah, but, you live there, I live here. You’re going off to Paris to film a movie and, by the way, how many people even get to say that in their lives?”
“You’re digressing.”
I was, yes, but it was, in fact, amazing. “And while you’re flying across the world, I’m staying in Benson where my business is. These are two totally different worlds we live in, Ash.”
“But it doesn’t have to be, if you’d just come with me.”
It was hard to say what would have happened if Ash had been a regular guy who moved into town. If he had been like me, happiest in a small town, waving to neighbors and chatting on the corner, things might have gone very differently for the two of us. And by the time Mitch had come home, I could have already been in love. But the whole time I’d known Ash, I kept my distance, never getting too close, knowing, of course, that our time would run out. The difference between he and Mitch was that I’d counted on following Mitch for a while, living his dream until it was time for us, together, to come home. That was what I’d been promised: that when he was done with college and the NFL, whatever came after football would include me being a contractor in Benson because building things was my passion, and him doing something that he loved too.
I took a breath, feeling the calm and certainty of my decision wash over me. Mitch coming back now seemed inexorable, like we’d taken the roundabout way to the exact place we’d planned on since high school. It felt like fate.
“Hagen, for fuck’s sake, are you listening to me?”
“I am,” I said gently, soothing.
“The fact of the matter is that you’ve always been afraid that I’ll go off and leave you.”
“Not afraid,” I corrected him, because fear had never been the issue. “But it is the reason I never took us seriously, yes,” I admitted. “But it’s not the leaving, right? You get that. It’s the knowledge that you would.”
“What?”
How to explain. “Like I could deal with you coming and going if I knew this was your home, that I was your home, and that I alone would be enough when you were home.”
“I don’t—what?”
“Like Mitch, for example,” I began, feeling grounded and peaceful just saying his name. I had it bad. “I know that he has to travel and be away from Benson, but between me and his boys, when he gets back, he’ll be content to be with us, never bored. He’ll want to be home, he’ll long for it when he’s away, and he won’t be looking for something else.”
“And you’re saying that wouldn’t be the same for me?”
“I think I’m appealing because you knew it wasn’t ever gonna get serious.”
“That’s not it at all.”
“Okay,” I acceded, not needing him to say I was
right. “I don’t trust you not to go, Ash, and I need a guy who will stay.”
“I’ll stay, or even better, you can come with me. Don’t you want your life to be an adventure?”
Oh dear God, no.
I wanted to be happy, to have roots, to have a family, to feel content at the end of the day, knowing I’d done my best, and I wanted to be loved so hard, so fiercely, that I’d never doubt I held the heart of another in my hands.
“I want to live as big as I can, see the world, and have everyone know my name.”
I knew he did.
“And I want the person I love there beside me for the whole ride.”
He needed someone devoted to him, that made perfect sense. That person wasn’t me.
“But it doesn’t mean I don’t want a home to return to. It’s just that me and my partner will be coming home, and then leaving again, together.”
His logic was faulty, but it wasn’t my place to point that out. “I think in order to be happy, both people have to be fulfilled, and because of that, you’ll have separate, diverse lives. But a solid home base is the key.”
“And you can’t see yourself having that with me.”
“Home is one place, not you living in Malibu and me living here.”
“Your thinking is far too limited. It needs to be more fluid.”
“Fluid or not, we have places we need to be, and that makes us, simply, incompatible long-term. But again, there are no limits on friendship.”
He exhaled sharply. “Why do you have to live there?”
“Because it’s my home.”
“And you love it there.”
“I do.”
“But you could love another place. There are more places than Oregon.”
I chuckled. “I know you. You’re not leaving Malibu.”
“I—”
“Everyone knows all the stars live in Malibu,” I said, smiling into the phone. “And for the record, it’s so nice that you care enough to argue with me. I feel very appreciated.”
“But you still don’t trust me enough to come with me on my adventure.”
“I think you’re starting something new and you gotta live big and see what that feels like. Be free to spend time with whoever you want and do whatever you want. Putting any sort of ties on you would be a mistake.”
“Because you don’t trust me.”
“Not with my heart, no,” I said honestly. “Because you don’t know what’s gonna happen.”
“I would if you’d just come with me.”
“I have my life, you have yours. Let’s part as friends and if you want, call me when you get back.”
“If I want?”
“Yeah. If you want,” I told him. “Just—”
“Come see me.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I told you I have to go to Paris, and I want to see you before that, so I really want you to come to LA.”
“Because you need a friend,” I suggested.
“Yes.”
But why me? Why did he need… and it hit me. I was the only friend he had who was an ordinary mortal. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“You are. You’re terrified because you’re about to get everything you ever wanted, and you’re freaking the fuck out.”
I heard his breath catch then and again and again.
“Ash?”
No answer, just choking.
“Breathe, buddy, just try and calm down.”
“I’m freaking out.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Why? Why am I freaking out?”
Just like I thought. The man was on the brink of superstardom and was having a tiny mental breakdown. “It’s gonna be okay. Your life’s gonna be great.”
“Yeah, well, yes, probably… but can you come check on me, just this one time, before my life doesn’t look like this anymore?”
“You need grounding,” I stated, because it felt like that, more than anything, was needed.
“I need grounding,” he agreed quickly.
“We’re gonna be such good friends,” I said cheerfully. “I can’t wait to see ya.”
“We can still be more than friends, too, and I’d like to point out that Paris is beautiful this time of year.”
“Enough with that already or I’m not coming. And I suspect that Paris does not have a bad time of year,”
He grunted.
“I’ll be there on Tuesday, and I’ll call you when I get in.”
“I’ll send you a ticket.”
“I can buy my own ticket, thank you.”
“But I need to know when you’re coming in so I can pick you up at the airport.”
“I can get to your place. Just gimme the address.”
“No. I want to come get you.”
He was arguing for no reason other than to simply keep me talking. “What are you afraid of?” I questioned mildly, not wanting to ratchet up his anxiety.
“What?” His voice went up way too high. “What are you talking about? I’m not—”
“You’re a good actor, Ash,” I promised him. “You can go to that movie set with your head held high, confident in your own abilities. You have no reason to doubt yourself or fear that anyone will think you’re a fraud.”
“Why the hell would you even say—”
“Grounding, right? This is what friends do, this is what it sounds like.”
Long moments of silence passed but I didn’t try to fill them with banter. He needed to reflect and just be. I got that.
“I need you here,” he finally said.
“I’ll be there.”
“So, Tuesday?”
“Yessir,” I agreed before I hung up.
As I lay there in bed, staring at the ceiling, I felt a twinge of concern about going, but that was what friends did, they went when they were needed and that made sense. At the same time, I wondered why I was worried about what Mitch would think when he found out.
Chapter Ten
I TOTALLY forgot to worry about what everyone would think when I walked into school with Brandon and Ryder the following morning. The looks, the whispers, hugging Brandon in the hall when he was sure no one was looking because he didn’t want me to walk him to class. He was nine, after all. He didn’t need me to coddle him.
“So I’ll wait for you out front,” he affirmed, our plan set earlier in the truck.
“I’ll be there.”
He nodded.
I nodded.
And then he turned and left, walking the halls of Haggerty Elementary as I had myself a million years ago.
I walked hand in hand with Ryder to his class, and when I got there, his teacher smiled at me, walked over, and crouched down beside him.
“I’m Mrs. Dupree,” she said, beaming at him. “And who are you?”
“Ryder Thayer,” he explained, his voice a little shaky, squeezing my hand tight. “But you can call me Ry if you like.”
“Do you like?” she asked.
He thought about it for a second. “I do.”
She nodded. “Okay, then.”
“This is Hagen,” he went on, tugging on my hand so I crouched down as well. “He’s friends with me and my dad.”
“It’s awesome to have friends,” she assured him. “My husband and I just moved here, and we don’t really know anybody yet.”
“Oh, we can be your friends,” Ryder said cheerfully, “as long as your husband is nice too.”
“He is nice. He’s actually so nice that he’s at home right now, waiting for the moving truck instead of going to work today. He has a lovely new boss who gave him the day off even though he hasn’t actually started work yet.”
“What does he do?” Ryder pried.
“He’s in construction. He’s an electrician.”
“Is his name Henry, by any chance?” I asked.
She smiled and looked confused at the same time. “Yes.”
“I’m the love
ly new boss,” I told her, holding out my hand. “Hagen Wylie.”
“Oh, Mr. Wylie,” she said, her face lighting up, offering me her hand. “You’ve been so kind and understanding. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”
“Yeah, Hagen’s good,” Ryder promised her. “And he cooks great.”
She melted right there over the cute kid and me being kind to her husband. Ryder was off to a really good start.
He hugged me supertight before I left, reminded me to be careful up on the ladder, and admonished me to eat breakfast because I hadn’t had any when he and Brandon had eaten theirs—I’d been packing their lunches and making sure they had what they needed in their backpacks for the first day. Mitch had done a good job with getting everything on their school supply lists, but I’d still had to buy them lunchboxes that looked like mine on Sunday. They both watched in rapt attention as I packed them with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, apple slices, baby carrots, and pretzels. When I promised them the milk I poured into their thermoses would still be cold when they drank it at lunch, they looked at me suspiciously. I gave them both money just in case I was wrong.
Once I dropped off the boys, I concentrated on work, getting to the office in time to watch Loretta Cavanaugh, my office manager, lean her head back in defeat as she held the phone to her ear.
“No, ma’am. He wasn’t mean on purpose.”
I tried to tiptoe past, but she beaned me with the stress ball she kept on her desk. It was cute, a frog that when you squeezed its round body, the eyes bugged out.
When I met her gaze, I saw how furious she was.
“No, ma’am. I’m sure he didn’t mean to imply that your house was dirty,” she said, pointing an aggressive finger at me. “I’m sure he was talking about the furnace.”
“I need to go to my office,” I whispered.
She picked up her stapler, so I stayed where I was. “Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. I promise I’ll send Hage right over to look at it.” She was listening. “Oh absolutely, thank you.”
When she hung up, she picked up a Sharpie from her desk and winged it over at me.
“What is wrong with you?” I snapped, leaning sideways out of the trajectory of the flying marker. “You used to be such a lovely woman.”
“I quit, Hage!” she shrieked, leaping to her feet.
“You can’t quit—or you’d have to stay at home with your husband all day and watch him play video games.”
