“You ok, Dad?” he asked when he pulled back, his troubled gaze assessing.
“Yeah, son.” He rubbed a hand over his husky beard. “It hasn’t happened in so long, I forget what to do. Guess I’m a little flustered.”
“Linc and I’ll handle her. Things will be fine. You’ll see.”
“I know I should be more firm with her. But when she’s doing well, she starts to believe that she doesn’t really need her medication anymore. She’s been halving her dose. Says it makes her too sleepy. Disinterested in…” he trailed off, noticing me. “Who’s this?”
“Fanny, Dad. Fanny Bay.”
“Fanny,” he repeated. “Sorry to make your acquaintance under such…exceptional circumstances.”
Linc reappeared and the vocal stylings of the fifty-something blonde currently standing atop the apple bin rose in volume. We all turned to regard her. She shimmied her booty and tossed her scarf down to the ground as she rendered her version of ‘I’m A Slave 4 U’. Now I knew where Ash got his singing voice.
“Aunt Maggie told me to go away and not return unless I could make it rain.”
Ash’s dad sighed.
“Sorry, Uncle Gene. I tried.”
“What if Gene and I get Linc’s car?” Simone suggested. “We’ll bring it around to the front of the store while you two get Maggie to come down so we can take her to the hospital.”
“That’s a good plan.” Ash nodded. “Thanks, Simone.” He kissed her cheek.
“You would do the same for me, Ash. Your family, Linc’s family, it’s mine, too.” She turned to Gene. “Ready to go?” she asked him. He glanced back at his wife and cringed. She was showing no signs of letting up.
“Yes, sure. I’ll call her doctor while we’re in the car. Tell her which hospital we’re going to. Maybe she can meet us there.”
“Good thinking, Dad.”
“Yeah,” he returned wryly. “It’s easier to think straight when you’re surrounded by people you love.”
“It’ll be ok.” Ash embraced his father. “We’ll join you in a bit.” He turned to Linc as Simone escorted his father away. His expression was part resignation part bemusement. “Let’s shut this down, Linc. You play good cop. I’ll be the bad one.”
“I’ll follow your lead.”
They squeezed their way through the small semicircle of onlookers that had gathered. Linc said something to his aunt that made her smile and stopped her singing. Ignoring Ash, she took the hand her nephew extended, stepped down like a queen flanked by her royal escort, and we all left the store through the automatic doors, a smattering of applause following us.
Outside, there were logistics to sort out. In the end, Linc switched places with his fiancée driving his sleek new car with Gene in the front seat and Ash and his mom in the back. Simone called a Lyft for us. We arrived at the hospital not long after they had. They were just finishing filling out the paperwork in the emergency room when we stepped through the sliding glass doors.
“I miss my boys,” Maggie lamented from her spot in one of the plastic chairs in the waiting area squeezing her nephew’s arm, then her son’s. Simone and I moved to take seats on either side of Gene. He looked alone and more than a little overwhelmed.
“I miss you, Aunt Maggie. What’s been happening lately on the city council?”
“Oh, you know. The usual scheming and backstabbing and underhanded tactics.”
“Ohh-kayy. Maybe small talk isn’t such a good idea right now,” Linc admitted.
“Ash,” she called even though he was right beside her, and her hand was curled around his crooked arm. “There’s some girl I don’t know sitting with your dad,” she whispered loudly.
“I know, Mom. She belongs to me.”
“She does? Oh my. That’s never happened.” She narrowed her gaze on me.
“Hello, Mrs. Keys.” I waved, my heart warming even in the chilled hospital air because of Ash’s words. She swiveled back to him. “She’s pretty enough. You should keep her.”
“I plan to for as long as I can.”
“You and your plans.” She made a disapproving sound. “You should try a little spontaneity.”
“Like stripping in the grocery store?”
“Don’t be fresh,” she sputtered.
“Ash knows love doesn’t follow rules, dear,” Gene said softly.
“But he puts people off with all those do’s and don’ts and keep away boundaries.”
“Mom,” Ash warned.
“Yes, son?”
“Drop it. Before you scare her away.”
“You don’t think the stripping thing did it?” Linc muttered.
“I can hope not,” Ash returned.
“Mrs. Keys?” A nurse appeared, an electronic pad in hand glancing around the surprisingly empty waiting room.
“Yes?” Maggie replied, standing but now she was the one who appeared overwhelmed, more than a little. Her husband moved to take her hand, leading her toward the back with Ash and Linc following. Ash stopped and came back to me. “Do you mind waiting with Simone?”
“Of course not.” I formed my hands into a lotus flower. “I’ll put positive thoughts in here. For her to get well soon. For strength for you, your dad, Linc and Simone. All of you.”
“Thank you,” he said, bringing his hands up to close his fingers around mine, closing my flower. “I appreciate that.”
Simone and I kept each other company. We didn’t have to wait overly long. Maggie’s doctor admitted her. She was taken to a private room and sedated. The men returned, somber in expression and not very talkative, but it was decided that Linc would drive all five of us to the home he and Ash had grown up in. Gene would pick up some things he needed before returning to the hospital to stay the night with her.
Twenty minutes of driving along dark winding hilly residential streets brought us to it, a one story white stucco home with red clay Mission roof tiles and arched Mediterranean windows. It was more than a few blocks away from the ocean. Once we were inside, Ash went to the kitchen to call the insurance company while Gene took my hand and led me around the modest but warmly appointed house showing me family photos in the hall and the trophies in his son’s bedroom as we conversed.
“He made top grades in all of his classes, but science and math were his favorites.” Gene’s coppery brown eyes brimmed with fatherly pride.
“I can see that,” I affirmed as I perused a wall lined with Ash’s academic awards. “I imagine he excels at anything he puts his mind to,” I muttered. It was a bit intimidating.
“Pretty much. Yes. He’s most comfortable when things follow a set of rules. You know he taught himself to play the drums? Never took one lesson. And I think, well…” His expression turned bemused. “I think they’re his refuge when the world around him gets chaotic. Like with Maggie’s episodes.”
“You ready to head back to the penthouse?” Ash appeared at the entrance to his old room, a worried crease between his eyes.
“Whenever you are,” I answered though I was a little confused. “But aren’t we going back to the hospital with your father?”
“No.” He turned to Gene. “Get your things, Dad. Linc’s ready to take you. I’m going to walk home.”
“Alright, son.” Gene shuffled past us, looking suddenly less enthusiastic than he had been when bragging about Ash.
“Let’s go, Fanny.” Ash put his hand on the small of my back. He seemed in a hurry for us to leave. Firmly, he steered me down the short hall, through the living room and directly out the front door.
“Your house is very nice,” I stated as we crossed his lawn and turned right on the sidewalk. The street was wide on this part of town, the houses along it a lot like his and quiet at this late of an hour. The ocean was too far away to see or hear.
“Not Beverly Hills nice,” he returned.
“My house wasn’t nice. Sure it had fine furnishings and plenty of space, but we were never a functioning family loving each other and solving our problems
together like yours.”
“I’m sorry, Fanny. Tonight’s made me poor company.”
“It’s ok, Ash.” Foot catching in a pothole, I started to tell him I understood, but he hadn’t noticed my stumble and had gotten a couple of steps ahead of me. Suddenly a shadow separated from the alleyway we were crossing. Three of them.
“El Jefe!” I gasped recognizing the gang leader as his face tipped into the illumination from a nearby street lamp.
“I saw you walking out here.” His expression was sinister. “I said to Carlos and Nieto, we should go over and say hi. Make sure our lesson took, güera.” He snatched the black beanie from my head and tossed it to Carlos, who tossed it to Nieto.
“Now I bet you wish you had this one, eh?” His gaze overly bright as if he were high on something he withdrew my purple Lakers cap from one of his front pockets and a switchblade from the other. Fear slamming into me, I backed away from him so scared I almost threw up my Deck Bar tacos.
But this time it was different. This time I wasn’t alone.
Silently Ash swooped in, my own personal avenging angel. Lips pulled back from his teeth, his expression grim, he grabbed the gang leader’s arm and yanked it down hard toward his rising knee. I heard a sickening crack, and El Jefe’s arm bent at an odd angle across his thigh. The switchblade clattered to the concrete as it fell from his useless grip. My cap fell quietly to the ground beside it.
“You broke my fuckin’ arm!” El Jefe cried, going down onto his knees. Carlos and Nieto scattered. Ash didn’t waste any effort on them. He cast his gaze to the gang leader.
“You’re lucky I didn’t do worse.” His tone was deadly, absent of mercy like the justice he had just dispensed. “Never touch her again.” I had never seen Ash wear a more lethal expression. “In fact, steer clear of OB completely. If I see you or any of your gang around here again, next time I won’t be so merciful.” He straightened and turned, dismissing the gang leader and coming straight toward me. Moaning, El Jefe stumbled to his feet and limped back into the shadows.
“You ok?” Ash asked. He still looked furious.
“Yeah.” I nodded, trying to stave off the post adrenaline trembling. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me for giving that scumbag what he deserved.” He stooped and snagged something off the ground. He pressed it into my hands and turned away. I think he assumed the residual fear in my eyes was because of what he had done. I hurried after him not realizing what he had given me in the dark until we crossed beneath another street lamp.
My Lakers cap.
I crushed the yarn in my grip while marveling at the brooding knight beside me. Tonight had given me a coveted glimpse into his background. I understood better why Ash was emotionally and physically guarded. I suspected that he walled himself off to create a controllable stable environment likely because he didn’t have much of one growing up in a home with a bipolar parent. I was familiar enough with the disorder to know it was cyclical. Manic highs, often with bizarre behavior like Maggie’s display tonight, followed by severe lows. I pondered my new insight and held it close to my heart for safekeeping, as I did my feelings for the man himself and the unlikely favor he had bestowed upon me.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ashland
“Are you ok?” she asked after we were back inside the penthouse.
“Yeah, why do you ask?” Bullshit deflection. My tone was noticeably defensive. I should ask her if she was ok after the things with my mom and then seeing me lose my shit with that street punk.
“No reason, I guess.” She backed away from me looking unsure.
Fuck. Tonight had not gone the way I had wanted it to at all. I needed to regroup before I proceeded. I was not ready for our talk.
“I’m going to the roof. Bang around for a while. I need to be alone.”
“Of course you do. It’s your personal space. I’ll leave you to it.”
I nodded curtly. I needed my drums. I needed to pummel them while I considered long and hard how to fix this. Was it fixable? Did we continue going forward at the speed we were going? This morning in my bedroom together. Then the studio. That song. The kiss. Her beside me again with my friends. So good. Then later. My mom. The retribution I had dispensed. I’d wanted to kill El Jefe. He had been on the ground his arm shattered, yet I’d wanted to hurt him more. Only knowing she was there had restrained me. I’d acted too much like her stepfather. Like Linc’s father. Relishing bringing pain to someone else. Not so admirable. So should I put on the brakes with Fanny? There was so much against us. A pipe dream with all of my issues and who she was. Already I was corrupting her bright outlook with my cynicism. Her song had proven it. Then there were other things. She was so eager to please me. I liked…no I loved that. But was that only her gratitude toward me? Or was that her spirit being in sync with mine? She was so sweet, so full of hope. I was so not either of those things.
And here we were now with her staring at me expectantly.
“Do you need anything before I go?” I asked telling myself to tread softly.
She shook her head. “I’ll find Hollie. I mean, I hear her iPad. She’s in the bedroom. You don’t have to entertain me, Ash. Thanks for dinner. For surfing earlier.” Her hands flapped in front of her body like a little bird trying to fly, but unable to in the face of the stiff and unpredictable wind that I represented.
I lifted my chin. “You’re welcome,” I managed lamely.
“Yes, ok, alright.” Her arms settled at her sides. “Well, goodnight.” Hesitating, she looked like she was considering saying something else, but in the end she only bobbed her head, turned and walked away.
“Goodnight, little one,” I whispered, but she was already too far removed to hear me. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe a little more space would be better. Room to reestablish boundaries. To clarify roles. If I was going to sail this ship, it would be easier to do if she was more like a crew member than a co-captain. I was better at giving commands than consulting others about them.
Shaking my head at myself and my indecision, I spun in the opposite direction from Fanny. Crossing the apartment, my movements were briskly efficient, my jerky strides as agitated as my thoughts. I hit the stairs. I took them fast. Up at the top in seconds, my drums were almost in reach, yet I had to pause. My cell was ringing again. Taking it out, I saw my dad’s face on the screen and sighed, the wind carrying my exasperation away.
“Hey dad,” I answered while continuing to my kit. The ocean was a steady comforting roar in the background, but my guts were churning like the Pacific during a squall. They had been since that first phone call from him. “Everything ok at the hospital?”
“Yes. I’m sorry about tonight.”
Ah, so no new crisis. The churn calmed a bit.
“It’s ok. It’s not a big deal,” I reassured him. He was almost as apologetic as my mom was after recovering from one of her episodes. I got more reserved, pulling back to basic controllable variables. Structure comforted me. He knew that. When I was little, and she was having trouble, I went to my room and organized my closet. When I got older, I played my drums. He did what he usually did, enduring her extravagant behavior, buffering her from harm the best he could, standing at the ready to catch her when she inevitably crashed. We each had our own ways of dealing. “I was glad I could be there to help. I just feel sorry for you.”
“I called the store like you suggested. There weren’t any cameras inside.”
“That’s a relief.”
We were lucky the family run market hadn’t decided to join the current century technology wise. Video surveillance cameras were almost everywhere in Ocean Beach nowadays. The Rite Aid had them. The pier had the OB cam. Not much stupid stuff you could do in a public place without it being widely disseminated on the internet. “Love you, son. Thanks again for helping out.”
“You’re welcome, Dad.” On my stool now, I leaned forward and reached for my sticks.
“I like your girl.” I wondere
d if he would go there tonight. The answer was yes, obviously. “She’s quiet, but I talked to her a bit.”
“You did, huh?” I sat up straighter on my seat. “What’d you talk about?”
“This and that. I showed her your old room where Linc and you used to sleep. Your trophies from drum line. The ones from baseball, too, before you gave it and the drum line up for the Dirt Dogs.”
“So you bored her in other words.”
“Oh no. She was very interested. Asked about your grades, the subjects you liked. The girlfriends you had.”
I bet she did.
“What’d you tell her?”
“That you were salutatorian. How you favored math and science. Facts and figures. Cause and effect. How you never got serious with anyone, mostly because you didn’t know how people would react to your mom and the major episodes she had more frequently back then.”
Oh great.
“Anything else?” The storm kicked up in my gut again like a gale wind.
“No. I just told her that after Linc came to stay with us regularly that you were really too busy to date. That you were very dedicated to him. Your career. That kind of thing. I didn’t want her to think you’re one of those men who can’t commit to anything.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that.” The obstacles to us even getting near a committed relationship would probably scuttle any chance of that. “You should get some sleep, Dad.”
“One more thing.” Oh fuck. “Remember what I always told you about women?”
“Which thing?”
“It’s not the way she looks on the outside that should matter most, but the way she looks at you. A woman’s eyes tell you a lot. And son, your Fanny can’t keep her eyes off you.”
“Yeah. She’s a fan of the band.” I was making excuses for her interest. In the likely case it turned soon. Thanks to my mom and now my dad she probably had a really good idea, not only how fucked up in the head I generally was, but why. Given her intuition probably only confirmation of conclusions she had already drawn. Dots to follow to connect the lines. My mom’s mental illness. The way we coped with it. My inability to hold my shit together. Sending that fuckstick who had hurt her to the ground. Control. I had lacked it tonight, but I was going to regain it. She needed to know she could trust me. That I could handle myself and take care of her. Take care of us.
Oceanside Page 24
