He nodded.
“Okay. Theo. Theo! You walk with Caleb, okay?”
Theo gave his head one sharp shake.
“No, listen. I think you can find her. Walk with him, he’ll help you.”
“You’ll help?”
“Yeah, sure, man, I’ll help. Let’s go.” He nodded to me. “Go.”
I took off, damning the low path lighting. I pounded on Margie’s door first, buzzed her intercom, and went to the phone. She came down as the operator was asking for the address, and when I had it I barked at her to go help Caleb with Theo.
911 kept me on the phone while the paramedics were dispatched, and made sure Margie and Caleb got him into the den okay. At first Theo refused to talk to them, but I promised they’d help him find Angelica. He told them what he’d swallowed—most of a bottle of extra-strength aspirin, something like seventy caplets. He told the operator it had started with a headache and he just kept going, waiting to feel better. He asked three or four times where Angelica was, and they seemed to take it in stride. I was glad. I felt like shit for lying to him.
Caleb explained to Margie how we’d heard him outside, and she gave me the briefest of looks as she glanced at the grandfather clock—almost two a.m.—and as I turned from them I heard the siren. I went to turn on the front porch lights.
Margie stopped me in the hall. Her hands were fluttering as much as my heart. “Don’t let them leave without me, I’m just grabbing his file. And put a note on my door for me, in case anyone else comes to find me, let them know I’ll be back in the morning. If you have any problems, call Fred Lynn, he helps out here sometimes. His number is taped to the bottom of the telephone in there.”
I nodded, slightly startled by this trusting side of Sargie Margie, but people get unexpected in a crisis. Like swallowing too many pills, for example.
“He’ll be fine.” She turned up her stairway. “You did well, you two.”
I sighed and went back to the sitting room, straightening my clothes. The ambulance crew had the gurney inside already, working fast and calm, and Theo was crying again. “He thought 911 would tell him where she was,” Caleb murmured, “and he’s upset they hung up.”
The paramedic looked at me. “I take it you’re not Angelica?”
“No, I’m Ashlyn, I called.”
“Okay. Well, Theo, I think we’ll find Angela at the hospital, so why don’t you hop on up there and we’ll get going.”
The other medic was wrapping up some equipment and stating stats, a lot of which were presumably meant to reassure us.
“Margie wants to go with you,” I told them, and fortunately by the time they all were outside, so was Margie, halting my fumbled explanations. I seemed to have lost all coherence, and only stopped myself from sinking against Caleb when I saw Rafa and Wren standing on the porch, taking it all in.
The four of us went back into the dining room after the ambulance pulled out, and I left Caleb to explain while I wrote the note for Margie’s door. Rafael worked late hours and would have heard the sirens past his room, but Wren was far from the road. Still, sound carried and she’d said she was a light sleeper.
After posting the sign I double-checked for Fred Lynn’s number and headed back to the others, noting the extra mug next to Caleb. If he was really, really good, it would be chamomile tea.
And it was. The height of my gratitude was stellar, as I sat and sipped. It turned out Wren had been midnight strolling by the lake, with a peace offering for Hester of leftover croutons. She heard the activity and came to investigate. And now she was watching Caleb and I with definite suspicion. Since I didn’t want her asking how we came into the situation together, I turned the conversation. “So do we know where they are?”
“Who?” from Rafa.
“Angelica and Brandon,” I said. Caleb’s half-hmm told me he hadn’t mentioned that part. But it’s not like it would have remained in any way discreet. “Apparently they’re missing together. Theo was looking for her, at his cabin.”
After I recapped Angelica’s FireWind relationship history, Rafa laughed. I’d never heard him laugh before—it was both deep and sardonic. “Guess you’re next,” he told Caleb.
“Huh?”
“Three down, one to go. Unless she picks Lizzy, too, and she just might.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“Why, has she already made her nocturnal visit to you?”
To his credit, Caleb recoiled. “God, no. But,” he glanced at us ladies to see if our delicate constitutions could handle more information. I crossed my eyes at him. “But, when, man? She and Theo were joined at the pelvis.”
“Not the first night they weren’t.”
Wow. Okay. Interesting dynamics.
Wren was shaking her foot rapidly against the chair leg. “Are you just fucking with us?”
“No. I wish I was.”
“Well, you mind me asking what the hell? Does Theo know?”
“I doubt it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. It was pretty obvious she thought she’d moved on to better things. She didn’t miss a chance to flaunt it in front of me.” He leaned back, taking the chair onto two legs in a way that would have given Margie a nervous fit. “Why did you think I never stuck around when she was around?”
Wren looked as red as I felt. Caleb, however, shrugged. “Just thought you had your own shit going on.”
And Wren smiled sweetly at him. “And you wanted out of k.p. duty.”
He laughed again, less sardonic this time. I was in danger of liking the guy. “Fair shot. That was obnoxious of me. But you sure as hell put me in my place, siccing Military Margie on me.”
I grinned. “We call her Sargie Margie.”
“Good one.” Rafa stood and bussed our mugs. “I’m gonna get back to it.”
“Night.” I paused. “Hey, are you gonna show us your stuff tomorrow or not?”
“Not.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“See ya.” He left.
“Well, a night of surprises,” Caleb stated obviously, as the three of us headed down the porch steps.
“You’re telling me.” But Wren didn’t sound so at ease. The dark night hid her expression.
“Wren?”
“You want me to walk you two back to Caleb’s place?”
“Wren, come on.”
“You come on, Ash. You’re the one so full of this honesty shit.”
“I never lied to you.”
“Two in the morning! You weren’t exactly a hundred percent, were you?”
“You didn’t want to hear it.”
“I didn’t want you to fucking play me, either.”
“Hey Ash, Wren, don’t,” said Mr. Congeniality.
“I’ll say what I damn well want.” She stopped her furious fast striding at the fork. “You asked me to be up front, I’ll be up front. You two can go off and screw each other every night until dawn if you want, but you can’t explicitly tell me there’s nothing like that just to appease me, when there is. You’re not lying to be kind; you’re just trying to make it easier on yourselves.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“Shut up for once, okay, Ash? You were not truthful, and I could give a damn about you, Caleb, no offense, but you can screw whoever you want, it’s up to you. But if the two of you are honest about being my friends, you don’t pretend there’s nothing happening when there clearly is. It doesn’t give me any credit whatsoever for being able to handle things like an equal and an adult. I am not going to break down in tears over some guy, but I am going to be pretty damn annoyed if my supposed friends aren’t letting me make my own emotional realizations, instead of making them for me.”
By the light of the low path lamps, I stared her down. “You done?”
“Is that an apology?”
“No, it’s a question. Are you done?”
“For now.”
“Okay. Then listen to me?” I drew a breath, hoping to soothe the stings running rampant in my c
hest. “I didn’t tell you this was going to happen, and we knew it would. But I didn’t lie. And I’m sorry, okay? Take it or leave it, but I’m sorry we pissed you off, sorry you feel mislead, and sorry you found out like this instead of through us talking about it.”
I took another breath, while Caleb muttered, “Hey, I’m sorry, too.”
“But I think we should just not talk more tonight. I don’t mean to put you off, but this whole Theo thing has me wiped out, and yeah, you’re right, I am going back to Caleb’s for the night. We can talk all you want tomorrow, okay?”
“Maybe. Maybe we will. I damn sure don’t want to tonight.” Her tone wasn’t quite enough to put my heartbeat back to normal, but it wasn’t nearly as sharp.
“Okay.” I nodded. “Okay. Do you, um, need anything?”
“No, I’m outta here. Good night.”
“Night, Wren,” Caleb said, and I echoed him.
She headed up towards RiverSong and I finally slumped against Caleb. Mighty chivalrously, he exuded solid security as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I never think of myself as needing protection, but I didn’t mind, leaning there against him, that I felt very safe indeed.
We collapsed into his bed—my eyes were void of moisture. I felt like a sandbag. It was an unpleasant counterpoint to the silky beach he’d had me envisioning the night before.
“I’m wiped out,” moaned Caleb.
“Yeah.” And after a moment, I managed, “Did I screw up? With Wren?”
“Uhmm. Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t think you handled it badly, though.”
I rolled over and tucked myself against his side. “Yes, well, you have to say that. You’re my boyfriend.”
His silent laugh brushed against my nape. “Oh, am I?”
“You are.”
“Mmm. Good.” He kissed my hair, softly. “Very good.” He might have continued, but I was too asleep to notice.
We missed breakfast, and before we got to lunch, Wren had provided a less than gentle answer to Angelica’s ‘I suppose Theo’s going to leave me with all the cooking again tonight’ whine, which left us basically fending for ourselves that evening. Angelica and Brandon set a platter of sliced veggies on the sideboard, along with the bread and peanut butter, then left together. Since Rafael didn’t show, we shared his revelation with Lizzy, the better for the four of us to gossip. Wren wasn’t speaking directly to me, but she did participate in the conversation, and stopped herself from sitting in the chair next to Caleb as I moved to the table with my sandwich.
“And Sargie’s not back?” Lizzy asked.
Caleb shook his head. “She went in the ambulance, so I’m sure she spent the night there and will have to catch a ride back.”
“Talk about freaky.”
“No kidding.”
“Don’t tell Brandon or anyone about Rafa, though,” I cautioned Lizzy, who snorted. “I know, but it’s better I say it.”
Wren harrumphed a little, which I chose to ignore.
There were so many soap opera permutations, it was hard to know where to start—the break-up with Theo, the sleeping around, the ickiness of actually going to bed with Brandon and his greasy dusty white-boy dreadlocks, and of course Theo and his need to react to it all with a bottle of analgesics. We barely touched on Sargie and her potential relationship with this Fred Lynn guy.
Brandon stomped past us, on his way to the computer room. “Where’s Angelica?” Lizzy demanded, and he just glared and tossed his head.
“Lovely,” Wren shot at his departing back.
Margie made it back before we were done eating. “Theo will be okay,” she reported. “They will keep him there another night, for monitoring, and evaluate his release in the morning. I’m not sure if he will return to FireWind, though. It will not be decided today.”
She didn’t elaborate on whose decision it would be, and told us she hoped we’d all keep the will to live for the next several hours, because she was going to get some sleep.
“Lovely,” Wren muttered again as Margie slammed the door behind her.
Caleb laughed as he volunteered to wash up, and then we were three.
Lizzy glanced between Wren and I. “So you had words?”
I smiled. “You’re just a terrible gossip, my friend.”
“I know. But I want yous to get along, so I’m being presumptive.”
Now Wren smiled. “Okay, okay, I forgive her. And I admit I’m jealous. But not envious, if that makes sense.”
I nodded. “It does. And I know I need forgiving.” I added, “Thanks.”
Lizzy took our hands. “Good then. We can go back to usual.”
“Thank the Goddess,” I said, “cause if I didn’t have you two I was gonna be stuck being pals with Angelica, which, nothing personal, just didn’t quite work for me.”
Lizzy snorted. “I can imagine.”
And we digressed into chat about Angelica again, and about her twisted work, and about our work, and my quilt of Gran. I had to explain the news about Pappa to Wren, who looked at it from a different direction, namely: what value would it add to anyone’s life to learn about this Irish half-uncle of mine?
It made me think.
I planned to tell Gran, and debating how to do it, and if I could go over it with Zach first or if it would be a betrayal, to not give her a chance to dictate who else would know and when. But Wren’s question stopped me cold.
“I don’t know,” I finally concluded. “The reasons keeping quiet most appeals to me are all to do with sparing me the discomfort of laying it all out for her. I don’t know if that’s making me like your idea too much for the wrong motives.”
“Look at it this way,” said Caleb, who’d rejoined us mid-conversation. “Pretend it’s not you who has to tell it, or you know Gran wouldn’t care, or something. Remove the painful telling factor. Do you see the logic still? Is anyone gaining by knowing, and if so, what?”
“I don’t think it’s a matter of ‘gaining’ really. Unless knowing some more relatives is a boon, which is debatable—I mean, how much contact would we reasonably even have with them, supposing they do accept us as family?” I sighed. “I sure as hell haven’t gained anything by knowing it, except for my elevated blood pressure.”
“But do you wish me Da hadn’t told you?”
“No,” I answered instantly. “No, I’m actually glad he did.”
“Why?”
“That’s it, isn’t it? I’ve no idea why. It doesn’t make sense.”
“I suggest,” suggested Wren, “it’s because if the knowledge is there to be had, you’d rather be with than without.”
“That’s the human impulse,” added Caleb.
“Yeah, but, that leaves me telling Gran, doesn’t it?” They nodded. “Well, this’ll jar my preserves for damn sure.” They laughed, but Lizzy wanted to know how come I was so sure Gran didn’t already know. There wasn’t a chance. “Gran can’t abide deceit. If she knew, she’d never have let Pappa tell the stories about Ireland the way he did. She may have let him hide it, but his background would have had to fit a little better with this truth.” I closed my eyes and they immediately welled with tears.
“Poor Ashlyn.” Caleb rubbed my back. “Do you want me to go with you tomorrow?”
I shook my head. “I’ll have Zach. But thanks. It’s just not gonna be great.” Wren was watching my body sinking towards Caleb’s hand. I sat up. “And Bernadette’s sure to complain about my ruining her big birthday surprise, thanks very much. Always growing older but never growing up.”
Chapter 14
So Zach pulled up by eight on Friday morning, which I recognized as being a remarkable feat by actually having my clothes on and overnight bag packed.
Caleb wandered outside to greet him, and I chose to double-check I had Bernadette’s quilt rather than watch Zach wonder why Caleb had ‘come over’ so early. Caleb, obviously a man never overprotective of a little sister, reached an arm around my waist as I joined them. Maybe Zach was tired,
but he resisted pulling me out of Caleb’s grasp. He just slammed the trunk on my bag and said, “Hey, let’s hit the road while traffic’s light, ‘kay?”
“Hasta,” I kissed Caleb—what the hell, the gig was up anyway—and he smoothed my hair before telling us to drive safe.
Zach’s car had crunched down the driveway and spat the last of the shale bits onto the blacktopped main road before he managed to give me a glance and say, “So?”
“So indeed. So, Caleb and I are in couple-land. What’s new with you?”
“And I guess you’re happy about it?”
“No, it’s torture, whadaya think?”
“You know, he’s going back to San Jose in a month.”
“Five weeks, we’re aware. I’m neither an idiot nor a child.”
He slowed to turn onto the highway. “God, Ash, chill. Did you think I wouldn’t ask?”
I rolled my eyes at him and he laughed. “Okay, okay, Mr. Need-To-Know. Here’s the scoop. We were just friends, you know the whole Wren thing, and I finally figured out he wasn’t wearing the aftershave for her benefit. And I thought about it and we kissed, and it was one of those rom-com moments, fireworks and jubilation, and here we are. And no, we haven’t talked much about the end, and yes, if it keeps going like this, it’ll be an issue, and no, I have no idea how to resolve it. Anything else?”
“You wanna stop and get some coffee?”
“Yeah, but if you can hold out until Luling we can hit that bakery.”
He shoved towards my head and I ducked. “You’re so damn bossy. Remind me to tell Caleb.”
I laughed now. “Give me your phone, I’ll put it on your calendar.”
It wasn’t until we’d returned from our bathroom breaks and broken open the package of pecan rolls that Zach quit holding out on me. “I’ve a little romantic news of my own.”
I squealed like a Beatles fan in the front row. “You dirty dog! Out with it. I can’t believe you just drove forty miles without saying a word.”
“Humph. I thought you cared about my Rick situation.” Rick was a co-worker who kept weaseling in credit for other’s work and getting away with it; we’d discussed him ad nauseum for months now. I did care, but not that much.
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