Becoming Forever (Waking Forever Series)

by McVea, Heather

  “Damn straight, friend.” Alan’s voice filled the apartment.

  Ash leaned over and picked one of the twenty magazines Emma had brought her up from the coffee table. She had managed to read five of them while in the hospital, and given the fact each magazine interested her, she decided to cart them home with her.

  Alan walked in and sat down in the recliner adjacent to Ash. “Two hours and counting.” He reached for the television remote. “Aren’t the Longhorns playing today?” He pressed the power button.

  “Yeah, but not until four.” Ash glanced at her watch, it was half past two. “Pre-game hasn’t even started yet.”

  Alan flipped through a few channels, and then muted the television. “Where did you get all these damn magazines?” He picked up All About Beer from the coffee table. “Did you lose a bet or something?”

  Ash laughed. “No, Emma brought them to the hospital.”

  The mention of the doctor got Alan’s attention, and he put the magazine down. “So, what’s going on with that? And are you cheating on poor Lara?”

  Ash shook her head, and continued to thumb through Psychology Today. “First, Lara and I aren’t exclusive; so there couldn’t be any cheating. Second, Emma and I are friends, and nothing more.”

  Alan arched his eyebrow. “This is serious.”

  Ash looked at her friend. “Why is it whatever I say, you have to say the opposite?”

  Alan shrugged and leaned back in the recliner. “Because I know you, and any time you have ended that second bullet point with - and nothing more, it’s always been a lot more.”

  Ash tossed the magazine on the table. “Well, let me put your mind at ease. We are just friends. Full stop.”

  “Well, Christ, now there’s a full stop. You are madly in love with her.” Alan casually said as he stretched his arms over his head.

  Ash sat up. “So I can’t defend myself against your unfounded accusations without furthering your cause?”

  Alan pushed the foot rest of the recliner down and leaned forward. “My dear, sweet Ash, I’ve known you since God was a boy, and the only time I have ever seen you defend something is when you are defensive.” He winked and leaned back in the chair.

  “Nice Alan. Circular logic wins the day.” Ash felt the heat rise to her face. Her friend knew her too well, and she knew her friend was right.

  Alan smiled at her. “I love you no matter what you do or who you’re with. Lara, Emma, none of my never mind. Just be happy.” Alan held up his index finger. “And one more thing, be happy and try not to hurt Lara in pursuit of said happiness.”

  Ash reached for the television remote, and unmuted an episode of Golden Girls on TV Land. She knew Alan was right. It wasn’t fair to Lara not to finish the conversation the woman had the courage to begin in the hospital three days ago. Ash wasn’t ready to take the next step with Lara, but she was attracted to her and wanted to continue to see her. The sooner she could have that conversation the better.

  A knock on Ash’s front door brought her out of her musings to find Blanche and Dorothy discussing Blanche’s too-numerous-to-count sexual escapades on the lanai as Golden Girls went to commercial.

  “I’ll get it.” Alan popped up from the recliner and looked through the peephole of the door. He turned to Ash with a devilish grin on his face. “Speaking of.”

  Ash turned on the couch to see Emma at the door. She was the last person Ash expected to see. The doctor was wearing dark denim jeans, a pair of Anne Klein brown suede moccasin flats, and a three quarter length sleeve, olive green Ralph Lauren shirt. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail, and Ash thought she was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

  “I came with peace offerings.” Emma lifted a bouquet of purple heather, white carnations, yellow Gerbera daisies, and white lilies. “But more importantly.” She held up a six pack of 90 Dogfish IPA, a hopeful smile on her face.

  Alan looked back and forth between Emma and his clearly speechless friend. “You had me at the Gerbera daisies. Come in.” Alan reached for the flowers, and closed the door behind Emma.

  “I’ll get these in some water if my friend over there actually has a vase.” Walking back into the kitchen, Alan mouthed over Emma’s shoulder. “Oh-my-god.”

  Emma sat the six pack of beer on the end table next to the sofa. “I remembered you ordered this at 1919; so I took a chance. Hope you’re not on any pain meds.” She was clearly nervous as she looked around the room, and Ash sitting open mouthed on the sofa wasn’t helping.

  The initial surprise began to pass, and Ash stood up and turned the beer’s label toward her. “Good memory. This is perfect.” Ash smiled, not sure what to say considering the last time they had spoken ended badly. “Would you like to sit down? Alan is making spaghetti and you are welcome to stay.”

  Emma walked toward Ash, and instead of sitting on the sofa took Ash’s hand in hers. Reaching up with her free hand, Emma gently cupped Ash’s still swollen jaw. “Does it hurt terribly?”

  Ash swallowed. The scent of lavender mixed with a clean laundry scent washed over her. The concern in Emma’s eyes nearly brought tears to Ash’s. Clearing her throat, Ash took a step back.

  “Not much.” She gestured for Emma to sit on the sofa. “And no worries, the doctor gave me some Motrin, but I’m not taking it.”

  Emma sat next to Ash on the sofa and crossed her legs. “Because you’re stubborn, or because it really doesn’t hurt?” She smirked as she looked at Ash.

  Ash chuckled. “Stubborn, of course.”

  Emma smiled. “I want to -”

  Alan came back into the living room with the bouquet of flowers now beautifully arranged in a clear glass vase. He placed the arrangement in the center of Ash’s dining room table. “You have wonderful taste in flowers, Emma. The last arrangement you sent Ash was beautiful.” He slid the vase a few inches to the right so it was centered on the table, and then walked to the recliner and sat down.

  Emma sat back on the sofa, and rested her hands in her lap. “Thank you. I have always had an affinity for flowers. It makes me a little sad, given the climate in South Texas, that I had to opt for xeriscape in my own yard, but it’s the responsible thing to do given the relatively low rain fall in this area of the state.”

  Emma shifted and put her arm along the back of the sofa so that her fingers nearly grazed the back of Ash’s neck. “As I’m sure you know, the xeriscape approach is promoted in regions that do not have easily accessible, plentiful, or reliable supplies of fresh water. In most cases, it’s usually promoted as a substitute for Kentucky bluegrass lawns; since the grass requires more water use than usual in arid regions.”

  Alan nodded and Ash could see from the glassy eyed look on her friend’s face Emma’s conservation lesson was boring him. “Al, I’ve asked Emma to stay for dinner.”

  Alan nodded. “Excellent. I wouldn’t want you eating alone.”

  Ash frowned. “Sorry?”

  Alan got up, and walked back toward the kitchen as he spoke over his shoulder. “I have to get over to the shop. Juan called in, his partner has the flu.”

  Ash looked at Emma, who continued to sit casually on the sofa. “Excuse me. I’m going to put the beer in the fridge.” Ash got up, picked the six pack of beer up from the end table, and followed her friend into the kitchen.

  Alan was stirring marinara sauce in a medium sized pot, and the entire kitchen smelled of garlic, basil and red wine. Ash walked up behind him, her voice lowered. “Do you even have a team member named Juan?”

  Alan put the lid back on the pot, and turned to face Ash. “For today’s assignment - yes.” He grinned.

  Ash opened the refrigerator and put the beer on the top shelf. Closing the door, she looked toward the living room. “Did it ever occur to you I might want you to stay?”

  Alan chuckled. “If you would choose your gay Asian friend over a hot blonde doctor, you have bigger issues than I thought.”

  Ash leaned against the counter. “It�
��s just I -”

  Alan crossed his arms over his chest. “What? Has it been so long you’ve forgotten what to do?”

  Ash punched Alan in the bicep. “No!”

  Alan took Ash by the shoulders, and spun her around toward the kitchen door. “Now, my Padawan, go forth and make nice with the pretty lady.”

  Ash shrugged Alan’s hands off her shoulders. “You know I’ll get you for this. When you least expect it.” She walked toward the living room.

  Alan chuckled. “You’ll get something tonight if you play your cards right.”

  Ash spun around. “Pervert, and she really doesn’t think of me like that.”

  Alan walked toward Ash. “Right. She’s in the habit of bringing booze and flowers to women she doesn’t like.”

  Ash looked toward the living room. “She’s polite, and we had a bit of a fight in the hospital, so she’s trying to make that right.”

  Alan quietly clapped his hands together. “Fun. Makeup sex.”

  Ash rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have to be somewhere?” She turned and walked back into the living room.

  Emma was still sitting on the couch, looking through Psychology Today. “Everything okay?” She looked up at Ash.

  Ash nodded and sat on the sofa next to her. “Yep. Al is going to head out shortly, and if you’re still game, you and I can muddle through the rest of the meal prep.”

  Emma smiled. “I would like that very much.”

  Ash’s emotions swung back and forth between excited to have the time alone with Emma, and nervous as hell. She wasn’t sure where they stood, and the uncertainty of that would inevitably lead to awkwardness. Ash would ask Emma about their relationship, but if she misjudged the situation, the question alone could cause issues. In the end, Ash decided there was no good way to broach the subject with Emma, so she would try to relax, and let things fall as they may.

  “Ladies, I am out.” Alan crossed the living room, and leaned over to place a quick kiss on Ash’s uninjured cheek. “Call if you need anything, but I would hope since I’m leaving you in the hands of a medical professional, I won’t be hearing from you.”

  “Granted, my patients are all dead, but I’m sure you’ll be fine anyway, Ash.” Emma casually commented.

  Alan laughed. “Good point.” He reached over and handed Ash her phone. “Keep this close.” He looked at Emma and winked. “Doctor, nice to see you again.” He walked toward the front door, and without another word, was gone.

  “He’s funny.” Emma looked toward the door Alan had just departed through. “You two met in college?”

  Ash nodded. “We did.” She smiled thinking of how they met. “We went out on a date.”

  Emma’s brows went up. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”

  Ash shook her head, and got up from the sofa. “I know. After one date we both knew we weren’t to the other’s taste, so to speak, and we decided to be friends instead.” Ash walked toward the kitchen. “Would you like some wine? Or I have a bottle of Dewar’s Twelve my father usually drinks when he comes over.”

  Emma got up, and followed Ash into the kitchen. “Let me help.”

  “There really isn’t too much left to do. The sauce is on a timer and will be done in about an hour, and I can throw the pasta on in about thirty minutes. I’ll just toss a quick salad and we’re ready to eat.” Ash stopped walking, turned, and not realizing Emma was following so closely, came face-to-face with the doctor. They stood less than a foot apart as startled brown eyes stared intently into surprised blue eyes.

  Emma’s breath caught. “I - I can make the salad.” Her eyes looked from Ash’s to her full lips, and Ash was certain in that moment, Emma was attracted to her.

  Taking a deep breath, Ash hoped her voice sounded calmer than she felt. “It’s bagged.” Their voices were low and intimate.

  Emma cocked her head to the side. “The salad?”

  Ash nodded, not able to take her eyes off of Emma. “Prewashed, bagged. Just needs dressing.” She wondered if this was really an appropriate topic of conversation when one was standing inches from a beautiful woman who clearly wanted more than salad talk.

  Al is right. I’ve forgotten how to do this.

  Emma smiled, and took a step back. The electricity of the moment dissipated as the space between them widened. “Easy enough.” She looked over Ash’s shoulder toward the kitchen. “Point the way.”

  Ash shook her head. “Right, follow me.” Turning and walking into the kitchen, Ash felt like her face was on fire from the surge of blood moments ago. If it wouldn’t have raised suspicions, she would have stuck her head in the freezer.

  “I like your apartment.” Emma stated casually as Ash handed her a bowl and the bag of salad mix.

  Ash struggled not mentioning what had just transpired between her and the doctor. Clearly Emma was having no such issue as she prattled on about a myriad of topics as Ash filled a large pot with water to boil the spaghetti noodles in.

  “It was the saddest thing. She choked to death on her engagement ring.” Finished with the salad, Emma leaned against the counter and watched as Ash stirred the marinara sauce. “It’s only endearing in the movies to put the ring in a flute of champagne. In real life, it’s deadly.” Emma shook her head.

  Ash was trying desperately to push past her annoyance with Emma over the small talk, and the complete disregard for the fact they nearly kissed ten minutes ago. She didn’t want to be rude, and it was clear forcing the conversation wasn’t an option. If Emma was talking shop, Ash could do the same. “Speaking of deadly, Cris and I are getting nowhere on the Garrett case.” Ash glanced up at Emma who had fallen silent.

  “Oh, I thought you had a person of interest.” Emma said flatly.

  “Yea, she’s disappeared.” Ash hesitated. She knew she was being short, but she was irritated with her own inaction, and the doctor’s willful disregard for what was happening between them. “And with all due respect, the forensics didn’t help much.”

  Emma’s eyebrow arched. “Forensics neither help nor hinder, they just are.”

  Ash huffed. “That’s very Zen.”

  Emma frowned. “Are you mad at me because the autopsy didn’t turn up more?”

  Ash replaced the lid on the pot of marinara, put her hands on the edge of the counter, and looked down. She knew she was picking a fight out of frustration, and she hated herself for it.

  “No, of course not.” She wanted to say she was sorry, but the irritation was clinging to her. She looked up at Emma. “Actually yes. I am mad about the autopsy. The fact you won’t discuss some very strange findings is kinda pissing me off.”

  Emma’s eyes widened. “I explained to you why that is. I don’t want the only thing we have in common-”

  Ash shook her head, irritated. “Right, it can’t be all about work.”

  Emma managed a faint smile. “Right.”

  Ash grabbed the dish towel lying next to the stove top and clutched it in her hand. “I want to talk about it.”

  Emma sat down in the chair at the small kitchenette table. “Okay.”

  Ash was surprised by Emma’s response, and now given the chance to discuss the Garrett case was drawing a complete blank. “Well - what about the bite marks?”

  Emma leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs. “What about them?”

  Ash pursed her lips. Obviously Emma was going to make this difficult. “Are we dealing with someone who thinks they’re a vampire?”

  Emma laughed. “Or what, an actual vampire?”

  Ash put the dish towel down and went to sit across the table from Emma. “No, but is this someone acting out a fantasy?” Ash bit her lower lip.

  Emma rested her elbow on the table and put her chin in the palm of her hand. “I wouldn’t disagree with the role playing angle.”

  Ash looked up at Emma. She was clearly indulging Ash with this conversation, and even though part of Ash thought she should be thankful Emma would do something for her she so clearly did not want to
do, the irritation and frustration from earlier wouldn’t go away. “And then there’s Ela.”

  Emma got up from the table. She opened the box of spaghetti and dumped it in the boiling water. “What about her?”

  Ash sighed. “She’s strange.”

  Emma turned to face Ash. “I haven’t met her. Why is she strange?”

  Ash shook her head. “She moves so smoothly, and then when she’s sitting she’s eerily still. Like she’s not breathing.” Ash looked up at Emma, and could see from the look on her face, what she was saying wasn’t making any sense. “And she’s really-” Ash stopped before she could make an unkind comparison.

  Emma sat back down at the table. “She’s really what?”

  Ash shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Emma sighed. “You’ve forced me into this back and forth, at least finish it.”

  Ash chewed on the inside of her cheek. “She’s cold.” Ash glanced at Emma and then back at the table.

  “You mean cold like me?” Emma said plainly.

  “Yes.”

  Emma rubbed the back of her neck. “Like me.” She muttered.

  Ash shook her head and took Emma’s hand. “Not like you. I was just saying she reminded me of you when-” Ash closed her mouth before she could continue to insult her friend.

  Emma smiled and squeezed Ash’s hand reassuringly. “I get it. You’re not comparing me to a possible accomplice to a murderer, and/or an actual killer.”

  Ash smiled. “Exactly.”

  Emma wiped at her forehead with an exaggerated gesture and smiled. “Thank heaven for that.”

  Ash got up. She was feeling better about earlier, and it occurred to her that it hardly mattered how Emma and her were together. She was happy to be with her regardless. “Pasta should be about ready. Do you mind putting the dressing on the salad?”

  Emma sighed, pretending to be exasperated. “Fine, Ash, if I have to do everything.”

  Ash smirked as she poured the pasta through a stainless steel colander. “Remind me not to let you and Alan spend too much time together.”

  Emma opened the refrigerator. “Beer?”

  Ash nodded. “Please.”

  “And where would I find that Dewar’s you mentioned earlier?” Emma scanned the cabinets.