by Lisa Smartt
The little bell on the front door rang and I could see Doug hold it open for Carlie. I knew Ashley had called them. Soon I heard Carlie’s booming voice, “What in the world is going on here? That kid must be crazy!”
Evidently my comrade in handcuffs has a pretty serious rap sheet, so he’s being held for violation of probation. Plus, the witnesses at the diner corroborated my story about him being too aggressive with Ashley and about him throwing the first punch. The deputy walked me to the front office as another officer walked my young friend to a cell on the other side. In classic Carlie form, she spoke to the kid, “Let this be a lesson to you, young man. Think next time, Darlin’. Think! Use your noggin!”
My right hand was throbbing and my head was a mess. I dreaded facing Doug and Carlie. All three of them stood when I walked into the little front office.
Carlie spoke with authority and humor, “They tell us you’re a free man now, that you’ve given up your life of crime.”
“I guess so. You didn’t have to come, y’know? I can still take Ashley to the airport.”
Ashley said, “Nothin’ doin’. You need to take some Tylenol and rest. Looks like you’ve got a shiner there and your head’s gotta be hurtin’. Plus, you don’t need to drive back home by yourself after you drop me off. Somebody should be with you for at least 24 hours.”
Doug said, “We have a good solution, I believe. We drove Ashley’s rental car here so now she can just take it on to the airport and turn it in, get on a plane, and head back to Crazy Town, I mean, Hollywood. He looked at her with a smile, “Oh, and we brought your suitcase too. So that’s a win/win.”
Doug sounded so enthusiastic. He’d found a solution alright. A solution to making her go away.
The four of us walked out of the building. Carlie explained that Aunt Charlotte was at the house visiting when they got the call. The boys had already gone down for a nap, so she was more than happy to stay with them.
Ashley spoke, “Thanks for bringing the car, guys. Can I have a word with Dave? Just a minute?”
Doug fumbled for his keys. “No problem. We’ll just be in the truck. Take your time.” As they walked to the truck, Carlie looked back at me with a hopeful grin as though she had just invented nuclear fusion. Sadly, she hadn’t.
Ashley seemed nervous as she brushed her bangs out of her face. “You look bad, friend. You do.”
I smiled and glanced toward the highway. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
She paused and looked up at me. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry about what happened back there, and at the church too. But I want to thank you. If you hadn’t been there, well, I don’t want to know what would have happened. I’m sorry you got banged up though. Really sorry.”
“Yeah, that guy’s got a decent right hook.”
“If it makes you feel any better, he looks worse than you do.”
“Thanks. I’m worried about the airport though. You don’t need to go in there alone.”
“It’s taken care of. During your little interrogation, I called the studio. They hired someone to meet me at the car rental place. He’ll walk through the whole process with me. They even got us seats together on the 10 o’clock flight. I should be home by early morning.”
“Yeah. That’ll be good. I’m sure it’ll be good to be, y’know, at home.”
“I’m sorry about your battle injuries. I am.” She paused as her dark eyes stared into mine. “And I’m sad about our time being cut short too. We never finished our conversation.”
My stomach was in knots. “There’s always the phone.”
She spoke kindly as we walked toward the car, “Yeah, but we’re getting ready to be in some seriously different time zones, I’m afraid.”
“There’s always e-mail.”
She smiled and reached out to hug me. I could smell her perfume as my face rested gently on the top of her head. I prayed the moment would last forever. It didn’t even last three seconds. When I touched the back of her hair with my right hand, she jumped and said, “Absolutely. We can definitely be pen pals.”
Now it was my job to act like I was happy. Happy about her getting on a plane. Happy about her going to Ireland to spend six months with Blake Blanton. Happy about getting an occasional e-mail from a movie star…a pen pal. But I wasn’t happy about any of it. I wanted her to get in the truck and go back to Sharon with me. I wanted her to sit on the porch with me every night and drink coffee with me every morning. We all knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“I know you’ll be real busy, but yeah, write when you can. And when the movie’s done, well, you know how to get back to Sharon, Tennessee, right?”
“I do. Or maybe you could come to California again, you and Collin.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I opened the car door and she slid into the driver’s seat. “Have a good trip. Be careful at the airport. And again, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to take you.”
She touched my hand. “No, I’m the sorry one. You’ll have a two-day headache because of me. And I’m sorry. But thank you for being there, for taking care of me. I owe you one, Dave Robertson. I do.”
I waved unenthusiastically while she backed out of the drive. Doug pulled the truck forward and I got in as though it were just a routine Sunday afternoon. An early morning hangover. A powerful sermon about King David. And a bloody brawl at a diner.
Chapter 18 CARLIE: Sometimes Life Is Like A Bad Country Song
Dave looked like he’d been put through a paper shredder. I scooted over into the middle seat while he got in slowly like an old man who’d had hip surgery. He said wearily, “I’m sure you want all the details.”
I replied, “Only if you want to share ‘em. Actually, you’re right. We want the details whether you want to share ‘em or not.”
“It won’t take long. A guy was being too aggressive with her. I told him to back off. He hit me. I hit him. I broke a table and that’s pretty much the end of the story. But we do need to go back to the diner so I can settle up with the owners over the damages.
And that is reason #127 that Ashley Harrison should marry Dave Robertson. He’s struggling and he’s not even close to perfect. But he has a sense of honor, responsibility. He makes mistakes but then owns those mistakes. And that kind of guy doesn’t come along every day.
When we arrived at the house, Aunt Charlotte hugged Dave like he’d returned from war. She insisted on hearing the whole blow-by-blow story as she sliced up pieces of banana bread and poured him a tall glass of milk. Collin and James both kept pointing to Dave’s face and saying “Boo boo. Boo boo.” I threw the guest room sheets in the washer and insisted they stay with us for the night. I’ve watched enough episodes of The Doctors to know you have to watch a head injury for at least 24 hours.
Dusty and Clara came by about 6:00 with barbecue, potato salad, and other delicious leftovers from the shower. Of course, seeing Dave’s face meant he had to tell version #3 of the sordid tale. Doug was on the phone in back with a bank customer (and friend) who felt his IRA discussion was worthy of a Sunday evening phone call. While Clara and I helped the boys build a wooden block tower on the table, Dusty stood and said, “I’m gonna sit out on the porch a minute. Why don’t you join me, Dave?”
Dave sat in the white rocker. Dusty plopped onto the porch swing. “The good news? Well, the good news is that tomorrow is a new day, Brother Dave.”
Dave looked out toward the road. “It is. That’s for sure. But I can’t see it bein’ much different from today. You know, work, bills, responsibilities.”
“It’s funny. People talk about bills and responsibilities like it’s a bad thing. But I don’t see it that way.” Dusty pulled his knife from his pocket and grabbed a stick and started whittling. “I think it’s a blessing to be responsible for someone else. I mean, my dad, he’s never taken responsibility for anything or anybody. But he’s not happy. Never has been.”
“You’re right, man. I’m blessed.”
“And lonely.”
“I�
�ve got Collin.”
“And?”
“And that’ll have to be enough. For now. You know what my problem is, Dusty?”
“No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”
“My problem is that I always shoot for women who are out of my league. God said ‘yes’ the first time but I can’t count on that again. I need to move on and quit being an idiot.”
“So liking a beautiful woman, a good woman, that makes you an idiot?”
“Liking this one does. Yeah.”
Dusty started laughing. “Then just quit liking her.” He stood and kicked the wood shavings off the front porch. “Oh, and let me know how that turns out, brother. Let me know.”
Dave smiled and shook his head, “Yeah. Good luck to me, huh?”
Chapter 19 CARLIE: Will, Mandy, and Molly…Oh My
I told Clara I wanted to bring supper over on the day of the children’s arrival. So I made chicken spaghetti, plain salad with an accompanying bottle of ranch dressing, and chocolate cupcakes. I knocked and then entered the front door, “Hey there! It’s Aunt Carlie!”
Clara came walking down the hallway with a spring in her step. “Hey! Come on in! The kids are still settling into their new rooms.”
I walked into the girls’ room which Dusty had meticulously painted a rosy pink. Mandy and Molly were sitting close to each other on one of the bright purple comforters. I got down on my knees in front of them and put out my hand. “Hey! Mandy, I’m Carlie. Molly, it’s nice to meet you too.” They both shook my hand but remained silent. Molly was playing with a bright pink My Little Pony doll but Mandy took it from her and said, “Quit playing with that. It’s not yours.”
I picked up the pony. “You guys can play with anything in here. These things are yours now. They belong to your family. Just like you belong in this family.”
Mandy said tearfully, “Grandma is our family.”
“Absolutely she is! She’s your grandma and she always will be your grandma. Nothing will change that.”
“What about our daddy? He’s in prison.”
“Well, he will always be very special to you. He loves you very much and that’s why he found a family for you. He wanted you to have a mom and dad every day. He knew how important that would be. He must be a very loving man to do all that for you.”
Dusty knocked gently on the door facing and walked in. Wearing faded jeans and a gray t-shirt, he looked like a kid on Christmas morning. He was oblivious to the uncomfortable silence in the room. “You girls okay in here? I see you met Aunt Carlie. She’s a crazy lady, but you’ll like her. You’ll love her.”
The girls just sat quietly. He remained vigilant. “Looks like Aunt Carlie brought us dinner. So let’s eat!”
I turned toward Dusty with a smile. “Well, I’ll leave the happy family to their eating. Let me meet Will and then I’ll be on my way.”
Will was sitting on the bed in his room staring at his unopened suitcase. “Hey Buddy, I’m Carlie. I’m here to welcome you to the family.” Silence. “It may take some time, but you and I will become friends. Don’t worry. I’m not in a hurry.”
As I walked into the kitchen, Clara was setting out plates on the table. She turned to me and whispered, “Won’t you stay, Carlie? I don’t know what I’m doing here. This whole family thing. I never had the family thing. Neither did Dusty. So how are we supposed to build something we’ve never even had ourselves?”
“No. I’m not staying. You need this time, just the five of you. Don’t rush. They’ve been through a lot. Take a breath. You call them to the table. You hold hands and say a prayer. Then you eat. Don’t expect more than that.” I hugged her and whispered, “Don’t worry. You’re their mom. They just don’t know it yet.”
Dusty came bounding round the corner. “Kids, come on to the table. Looks like Mom’s got it all set up and ready. Thanks for the food, Carlie!”
Poor Dusty. He thought these kids would just walk in and be family. He thought they’d appreciate having all the things he never had. And they will. Just not today.
Chapter 20 DAVE: Oh, to be a Leprechaun
The bank was more crowded than usual. But thankfully, Doug was alone in his office so I knocked and stuck my head in the door.
“Hey man, I just wanted to come by and say thanks. You know, for the other night and for Sunday and for well, you know.”
“No problem. You went through a rocky patch. Everybody needs a fresh start now and then. What are friends for?”
“Evidently friends are for confiscating all the liquor in the house.”
Doug laughed, “So you noticed, eh? I figured you would have done it for me. I was thinkin’ you might want to just go back to your obsession with sweet tea.”
“You got that right. You haven’t asked and you probably weren’t gonna ask. But I haven’t drunk anything. Since that night, I mean. I need to steer clear.”
“I figured as much. Look, if you need to go somewhere, I’ll go with you. Meetings or whatever.”
“I’m good. Really. It wasn’t every night. I can make it work.”
“Have you talked to Ashley?”
“Look at you. Carlie’s turned you into a matchmaker.”
He turned from his computer and smiled. “Hey, you know I’ll get some extra points at home tonight for asking.”
“Ha ha. Yeah, well, I hate to stand between a man and his woman. No. I haven’t talked to her. It’s been more than a week. She’s on her way to Ireland with Blake Blanton. I’m on my way to the First National Bank of Sharon. It’s doubtful we’ll cross paths anytime soon.”
“If that’s what you want, well then, I guess I’m happy for you.”
“Can I sit down a minute?”
“Sure. I’ve got a few minutes before the meeting with Mr. Peterson.”
“I’ve been thinkin’. Do we always get what we want? I mean, is that the goal? Getting what we want?”
“Not always. There are good wants and bad wants. You know that. But if you’re asking if there’s something wrong with wanting a woman?” Doug stared at me as though he were delivering a message from God. “No, there’s not. There’s nothing wrong with wanting her. So get over yourself, man. Just contact her.”
“I probably can’t even get through to her now. Publicity people. Body guards. Movie folks.”
“You have her e-mail address. Write to her.”
“And what would I say? Hey Ashley, I’m trying to potty train Collin this week. I worked on bank loans today. Aunt Charlotte invited me to dinner. I hope you’re enjoying being in Ireland with Blake Blanton. Gosh, you’re right. Why haven’t I thought of that before?”
Doug laughed, “I’m not going to listen to you whine like a teenage girl. You’re not in a competition with Blake Blanton. This isn’t high school.” He rose from behind the desk and smiled. “Now get out of my office. I’ve got work to do.”
I waved and walked around the corner. I guess I could write a simple e-mail. It wouldn’t hurt. I sat at the computer and tried to come up with something clever.
Dear Ashley,
I hope all is well in Ireland. You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get a chance.
No. That sounds stupid.
Ashley,
How are you? We are fine.
No. Sounds like fourth grade.
Ashley,
It’s been a busy week here in Sharon. Bank loans, potty training, and thinking about you. All the time. Like nearly every moment of every day.
Ridiculous.
Ashley,
I miss being your redneck body guard. How’s Ireland? Write when you can.
Dave
Finally. I pushed send. Maybe her “people” would intercept it and she’d never even see it. I had no way of knowing. So I tried to forget about it. I went home at 5:00, bribed Collin with M&M’s to go potty in the toilet, and made a frozen pizza. Put him down at 8:00 and watched Bourne Supremacy because it was oddly comforting to watch someone who had a lot more problems th
an I did. Plus, things blow up.
It was 11:30 pm and I was about to turn off the computer when an e-mail came through from A. Harrison.
Dave,
It’s so hard to find good redneck bodyguards in Ireland. They drink more beer than sweet tea which causes their reflexes to be somewhat limited. Thankfully, I haven’t been witness to any diner brawls. Not yet anyway. We’re on a two-hour break right now and the whole crew is eating fried fish and chips. I’m eating salad ‘cause I’m barely fitting into this dress as it is. But I’m not complaining. Well, maybe I am.
How’s Collin? When have you seen the Jamesons? I guess the three kids have moved in with Dusty and Clara by now. Keep me posted on all the Sharon news.
We started shooting yesterday. It’s going to be a long six months. Thanks for writing.
Ashley
I wanted to message her right back but I knew that indicated too much desperation. I determined to wait until the next night. Maybe she would get my message while on the same break. Besides, I needed to get to bed.
The bedroom seemed lonelier than usual. Just a brown micro fiber blanket wadded up on top of a blue and white striped fitted sheet that once belonged to a set. I’d given up bed-making a long time ago. I wasn’t even sure how. Shannon had always made the bed with matching sheets and comforter. Every morning. She put little pillows on it that made it look like someone cared. But no one cared anymore. Dusty furniture and a wadded-up blanket was just another reminder.
I told God I was finished thinking about Ashley. But I wasn’t. For some reason, I started wondering about her husband. Was he smart and good-looking or just another pimply-faced teenage kid who thought he was in love? I thought about the work ethic it took to work on oil rigs like he did when he was only eighteen. She must have had a lot of respect for that. For his work. Or maybe she was just so young and so caught up in him, in the two of them, that she didn’t care what he did for a living.
