The Promise of Paradise

by Allie Boniface

“Eddie, you don’t have to…” But he waved away her words with a damp hand. “It was a drunk driver, so bombed that he never even remembered hitting us. Ran into Cal’s side of the car, square on. Docs said he never felt anything, died on impact. I hope so. ‘Cause all I thought about after that was what if we’d gone to the late show, or what if we’d stopped for a burger the way Cal wanted to? What if that guy hadn’t left the bar when he did?” Eddie’s voice began to shake a little.

  “Sometimes I think Cal’s lucky. At least he’s free. I deal with it every day. Every fuckin’ day.”

  For a few minutes, his ragged breaths were the only sound in the apartment. Ash didn’t move. Didn’t speak. She didn’t even trust herself to reach out to him in comfort.

  Eddie raised a hand and traced the line along his jawbone. “So yeah, that’s what the scars are from. Plastic surgery only does so much. The doctor said he could have gotten rid of this one…” He touched his cheek gently. “But I wanted it. I wanted to remember.”

  He stopped talking and sat there for a long time with his eyes closed.

  You didn’t need to tell me all this, Ash wanted to say. I didn’t need to know. Yet she knew why the words had spilled from him the minute he’d sat down next to her. It was easy for them. They could sit and not say anything special. They didn’t have to be funny, or flirty, or witty, or even kind. They could just be…whatever they wanted. The realization scared the hell out of her.

  When he spoke again, Eddie looked at her with such fierce affection that her heart swooped. “But I’m happy now, Ash, really happy, for the first time in I can’t remember how long.” He shook his head. “After the accident, my life went to shit. I drank too much. I took six months off from work and slept all day. I dated the wrong women just to fill up the nights. I blamed myself for Cal’s death. Still do. Most days, to be honest, I wished I were dead too.”

  He stopped and took a breath. “Then I moved in here, and met you, and everything changed.” His hand moved over hers in soft circles, until she felt as though her insides might float away.

  “It’s different with you, Ash. It’s like I don’t have to pretend.”

  “Eddie, I—”

  “I know you’re only here for the summer.” He pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her and murmuring into her hair. “I know that. But Boston isn’t that far away.” His lips moved against her temple. “Maybe we could give it a try. Maybe we could—”

  He twisted a little. “What am I sitting on?”

  Oh, no. Ash reached to grab the notebook, but Eddie had already pulled it from between the cushions. He smoothed its wrinkled top page and glanced down. “What is…?” His words fell away. When he looked up again, something had fallen across his face, a chilly pall that stole all warmth from his expression.

  “Who’s Colin?”

  “Eddie, it’s nothing. No one.” She took the notebook and tossed it onto the floor.

  “Your ex-boyfriend? The one you never talk about?”

  She waved a hand. “Yeah. But that’s over with. He doesn’t matter.” She tried to run her fingers across Eddie’s face and calm the irritation growing there.

  “Why are you making lists about him? About him and me?”

  “It’s nothing. It’s just…” How could she explain? “It’s something I do sometimes, to sort things out.”

  “What needs sorting out? Are you still in love with him?”

  “No. But it’s complicated.”

  “I thought you said it was over.”

  “It is.” And it isn’t.

  His voice softened then. “Then tell me about it. About him. Let me in, Ash. For once.”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” she whispered. “Really.”

  Eddie punched the arm of the loveseat. “I sit here and tell you all about the accident that ripped my life in half, all about the brother I lost, and you can’t even talk to me about your ex? What is it? You don’t trust me?” With every word, his voice raised, until he was shouting.

  “That’s not it,” Ash began. “I just…” I can’t get into it, she wanted to say. I can’t tell you about Colin without telling you about my father. And I can’t tell you about my father without telling you my real name. And then you’ll know I’ve been lying to you all along.

  Eddie stared at her for another minute. Then he shot to a stand. “If you can’t trust me, there’s no way this will work. Ever.”

  Tears bubbled up to the surface, and Ash looked away in case they fell. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  “You know, I’m not stupid. I know you came to Paradise because something chased you out of Boston. I know you’re running away from something. Or someone.” His voice shook. “And I don’t care. I’ve never pushed. But if you can’t even begin to tell me about it—”

  Eddie’s voice broke, and he didn’t finish, just retraced his steps to the front door and shut it behind him.

  That was what happened when you let yourself get involved, Ash thought. Her chest tightened. She never should have kissed him. She never should have become friends with him in the first place.

  But it was too late for that, and she knew it. She stared at her door, willing it open again. Suddenly, she wanted to confess everything. She wanted to look into those dark eyes and know Eddie didn’t care where she came from or who she really was. She wanted to feel his mouth on hers again. She wanted him to fold his arms around her and tell her everything would be okay.

  But she didn’t know if it would be.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Twenty-four hours of heartless rain poured down. It soaked the roof and seeped into Ash’s bedroom in the form of dreary dampness. She rearranged her furniture. She took all the recyclables to the store, careful to avoid looking at Eddie’s door on the way there and back. She rearranged her CD collection. She drove all the way to Burnt Hills, a leftover hippie colony past Silver Creek rumored to have the best hummus in the state.

  Finally, she gave in and called her mother.

  “Ashton!” Mamie Kirk’s voice wobbled. “Where have you been?”

  “I’m sorry.” She curled into a ball on the loveseat and stared at the ceiling. “It’s just…I needed to take a break from things back home. It was getting a little crazy.” Getting crazy? Already way beyond, if you want the truth.

  “Jess said you’re subletting a place in New Hampshire?” Doubt crept into her mother’s voice and hung there, waiting for Ash to correct her, to say that no, Jess was wrong, she wouldn’t do something so un-Kirk-like.

  “Mm hmm,” Ash said instead.

  “You’ve heard about your father? About the charges being dropped?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’d like to make a statement to the press,” she went on when Ash didn’t. “At the house on Martha’s Vineyard. The secretary of state will be there next week, and we’re planning on joining him and his wife for a few days.”

  God, no. Ash squeezed her eyes shut. Less than three months away from that life, and it already seemed foreign to her, as if she’d never lived it at all.

  “So will you be there?”

  “I don’t think I can make it.”

  “Ash, your father needs all of us together. As a family. You know the nomination is—”

  “I know. The most important thing in his life right now.” And that’s why he needs the shiny, happy faces of his wife and daughters with him when the cameras start snapping.

  “The thing is, I’m working,” she said. “I’m not sure I can get away.”

  Mamie didn’t answer, a quick intake of breath the only indication that she’d heard. “Well...what do you mean, exactly? You’re not…you haven’t taken a position with another firm, have you? Not up there?”

  Oh, how that would complicate things. Ash almost smiled. She could just picture the headline: “Youngest Kirk daughter turns down prestigious job in Boston only to slum in the hills of New Hampshire.” Part of her wanted to tell her mother just where she spent her worki
ng hours. It’s a jazz club in a blue-collar town. I serve people food and then clean up after them. Want me to issue a statement to the press about that? But she kept her mouth shut.

  “We’ll be at the Vineyard the whole week,” her mother said. “I’m sure you can take some time off.” She paused. “Colin asked if he can join us.”

  “What?” Ash sat straight up. “No. No way.” How dare he try to weasel his way back into her life? That’s what the phone call was all about. He didn’t miss her. He missed the Kirk name. He missed the reputation. Her cheeks burned with anger. “Forget it.”

  “Ash, please—”

  “He broke up with me, Mom. Did you know that? That Colin dumped me right after everything happened with Dad? That he was sleeping with someone else?”

  “No, I didn't. I…” Her mother choked off into silence.

  “Tell Dad I’m sorry,” Ash said. “I wish I could be there. I do. But I can’t.” She couldn't play that charade, shrug that life on again like a skin that just slipped off for a few weeks. It wasn't that easy.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.” Mamie hiccupped, but Ash could hear her smoothing her voice, ratcheting down any emotion that might betray her. The way she always did. The way she probably always would.

  “I’ll have Jess or Anne call you next week,” she went on, as if Ash hadn’t refused to join them at the Kirk vacation home but simply said she needed to check her calendar. “Maybe you can find some time to work us in.”

  “Mom, listen. It’s not that I don’t want to be there for Dad. I just…”

  “I know. You have a life of your own, and you want to live it. I understand that.”

  Ash weakened a little.

  “But your father needs your support. Is that too much to ask?”

  Ash didn’t answer. She didn’t know. And when her mother hung up a moment later, all she really knew was that she felt exhausted beyond belief, squeezed tight and wrung out, like laundry left too long in the rain.

  * * *

  “Evenin’, boss.” J.T. flashed Ash a smile as she stepped inside Blues and Booze. The stupid umbrella she’d grabbed from her car had lasted exactly thirty seconds before it pulled itself inside out and went twisting down the sidewalk away from her.

  She ignored his greeting and stomped through the bar, checking the orders and the cash register before making her way to the kitchen.

  “Well, somebody’s got her panties in a knot,” she heard behind her. One of the guys at the bar, she supposed. Probably Jackson Todd. Or maybe Tyler Mulligan. J.T.’s cronies often hung out after their shifts at the cheese factory, slurping down a few beers before going home to their wives.

  She didn’t bother to turn around. Get it together, Ash. A bad mood isn’t going to get you anywhere. It’s not their fault your life is a total mess right now. You have work to do. So do it. She grabbed a clipboard and pulled open the coolers in the back, making notes as she went down each shelf. “More apple pie, more double-chocolate torte, still enough cheesecake…”

  “Ash?” Lacey waltzed into the kitchen. “Carla just called. Said she can’t make it tonight. Car trouble or something.”

  “You’re kidding.” Their newest waitress, a single mother of two, had called in late three times in the last week. Ash really needed to tell Marty to get rid of her. If they couldn't depend on Carla, she might as well look somewhere else for a job. Ash would pick up extra shifts if she had to.

  Lacey started making salads, draping them loosely with plastic wrap and storing them in the refrigerator. “Sorry.”

  Ash shrugged. “We’ll deal. Rain might keep people away, anyway.”

  “Remember that Ladies’ Day idea you were talking about?” Lacey asked. She dumped out the afternoon’s coffee and started another pot.

  Ash nodded. She’d thought about opening the restaurant on Sunday afternoons, offering specials for Paradise’s wives and girlfriends whose men spent the day staring at eight straight hours of baseball. Maybe introduce a vegetarian dish or two. Maybe get one of the local salons to offer manicures. She didn’t know any of the girls who worked in Hair Heaven or Nails and Tails, but she supposed she could ask around.

  Ash bit her bottom lip as a thought snuck its way in. That wasn’t exactly true, was it? She knew Cass worked at one of the salons in Paradise.

  “Hi yourself, Cassandra. What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Stopping by to say hi, that’s all…It’s been a while. You haven’t stopped by the salon…”

  Cassandra. And Eddie. That thought hurt.

  “Ash?”

  “Sorry.” She jumped, and the pencil slipped from her fingers. “What?”

  Lacey gave her a funny look. “I was talking to my housemates about it. They think the Sunday thing’s a great idea. They’d definitely come.”

  “Oh. Well, good. Maybe I’ll mention it to Marty, see what he thinks.”

  Lacey nodded and backed through the swinging door. “Let me know if I can help. I wouldn’t mind picking up another shift.”

  Ash straightened her shirt and grabbed a fresh stack of order slips. Deep down, she hoped the rain brought people in today, rather than kept them away. That way she could keep her mind on juggling trays instead of botched kisses and awkward telephone conversations she didn’t know how to sort out. She spent another ten minutes sorting through napkins and tablecloths in the back. Then she filled two pitchers of ice water and walked into the dining room.

  “Could we have some menus?”

  “I asked for Absolut, not Stoli.”

  “I thought tonight’s special was going to be chicken.”

  Ash stopped and stared. Three-quarters of the restaurant was packed with people escaping the storm.

  “Can you believe this?” Lacey whizzed by on her way to the kitchen. “I’ve never seen a night like this.”

  Neither had Ash.

  “Came in for the meatloaf,” June Frisbie confided, as she stopped by the elderly woman’s table. “Saw it on the specials board outside and couldn’t resist.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Ash said. “Don’t know if there’s enough back there for everyone, but I’ll make sure to set aside an extra-large serving for you.” She bent closer and aimed her voice at the woman’s hearing aid. “Make sure to save some for Dobber and Jones.”

  The woman broke out in a huge smile at the mention of her two beloved poodles. “Oh, I will.” She patted Ash on the wrist. “Dear, you’re the best thing that’s happened to this place since Marty took it over. I hope you’ll be staying a while.”

  Ash moved on without answering.

  “Ash!” A heavyset man dressed in head-to-toe camouflage waved her over.

  “Hi, guys.” She nodded a hello to the three farmers, portly and red-cheeked. “Nice to see you.” She glanced at their empty table. “Need a pitcher of Bud?”

  The men nodded in unison. “Better make it two.”

  “Coming right up.”

  She headed for the bar and checked in with J.T. “What do you need?”

  “Another set of hands would be nice.”

  She cracked a smile. “Wish I could.” But she slipped behind the bar and started pouring drinks and filling pitchers. “Give you a few minutes, anyway.”

  Lacey flashed back to the bar, slim legs trotting faster than Ash had ever seen them move. The young girl loaded up a tray, grabbed some cocktail napkins, and took off again.

  “She’s working her tail off tonight,” Ash noted, glad to see it.

  “Nice tail it is, too,” one of the guys at the bar guffawed.

  Ash pointed a finger in his direction. “Watch it,” she said with a serious squint of the eyes. She recognized him but couldn’t come up with a name. Give me another hour and I’ll remember it for the rest of the summer. Once again, she was glad the photographic memory that had served her so well in college was coming in handy.

  “Ash?” The new Blues and Booze hostess, a meek woman of forty, shuffled over. Behind her, a crowd of people
jostled for space in the restaurant’s narrow lobby. “We just got a party of twelve. Can we take them?”

  “Let me see.” She surveyed the dining room. “I think Gus Masterson’ll move if I ask him to, and the Wallaces just decided they’re getting take-out instead of staying, so we’ll push those tables together and…”

  * * *

  “There.” Three hours later, Ash set down the bill for table nineteen and exhaled. Her feet ached. Her throat was raw. Her shirt stuck to her lower back. Her hair had fallen from its ponytail and hung around her face. She rolled her neck. Well, at least the rush had kept her mind off anything except running orders, replacing napkins, and filling empty glasses. What next? She looked around for a table to clear, a new party to seat. But the room was quiet. Finally.

  She took a few minutes to drink a tall glass of water and then found Lacey in the kitchen. “Are we actually finished?”

  The girl smiled. Her eyes shone with fatigue. “I think so. God, I never saw such a rush.”

  “Me either.”

  Lacey pulled a wad of bills from her pocket. “Definitely over a hundred.”

  “Good for you.” Ash sagged against the salad bar, exhausted.

  Lacey eyed her. “You okay? You were running like crazy tonight, too.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  The college student pulled off her apron and headed for the door. “You’re good at this, you know. I mean, I know you’re probably not staying around Paradise forever, but still…” She shrugged. “You’d be good at running a restaurant. If you ever wanted to.”

  Ash didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She did like being in charge. She liked the social part of the job. And there was a lot less stress involved in keeping customers happy than memorizing cases or prepping briefs, even on a night like tonight. But a lifetime of it? She thought she’d probably go a little stir-crazy.

  “You can head home, Lace,” she said without answering the girl’s question. She glanced at the time clock. Almost nine on a Tuesday, and Eddie hadn’t stopped in. He always came in on Tuesdays after work. Always, since the second day she'd worked there.