by Lisa N. Paul
She quickly strode to the car through a haze of numbness until she felt the warmth of a hand on the base of her spine. She knew it was Ryan. While she couldn’t express it in words, she was grateful for his presence in the dark night.
God, Ryan thought to himself. Of all of the names in the world, they name a hurricane that’s gonna hit Charistown, ‘Leo’? What are the fucking chances?
Once they arrived home, Ashley quickly darted upstairs and holed herself up in her room, cutting off any contact between them. He shook his head as he began his mental preparations for both Mother Nature’s storm, in addition to the storm that was currently brewing on the second floor. He wasn’t sure which one would bring him to his knees, but he had no doubt that by the week’s end he would be on them.
There’s Juice In It!
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Ashley groaned pulling the pillow over her head to drown out the sound of the doorbell. She was exhausted. Other than a few restless hours, sleep had mostly evaded her. Thoughts of her brother, the storm that took his life and the one heading in their direction whipped around her mind until the sky began to lighten. When the bell rang again and her litany of cursing didn’t manifest Ryan, she realized she needed to get her ass up to answer the door. She rolled out of bed and stomped down the stairs. It wasn’t that nine-thirty on a Monday morning was early, because it wasn’t. Usually at this time she would have been coming back from the gym, preparing to shower and getting ready for—
“Oh, shit!”
“Good morning to you too, sunshine. You look like ass.” Janie assessed while she stood cheerfully on the doorstep. “Did you forget about our plans?”
“Hi, Jane.” Ashley droned, “Look, I didn’t sleep at all last night…” She yawned, not at all trying to hide her irritation of being awake when she could still be snuggled in her bed. “I’m gonna bail on Starbucks today, umm, maybe I’ll meet you guys at the spa later. Sorry, honey.” Janie stopped the closing door with her slender body, her cell already up to her ear.
“Hey, Ly, yep, you were right.” Ashley watched the smirk on Janie’s face grow as she talked to Lyla on the phone. “Yeah,” she paused, listening to the voice on the other end of the line. “I know. Ah ha, you got it, I’ll tell her. See you in ten. Bye.” Janie slid the phone back into the pocket of her jeans and walked into the foyer of Ashley’s house.
“Ash, march your sweet ass upstairs and brush your teeth. We don’t care if you’re dressed or not. We don’t care if you look like that,” Janie ran her eyes up and down Ashley’s appearance and crinkled her nose, “or not. But you are getting into my car in”—she looked at her watch—“eight minutes. Now go.”
“Janie, I’m too tired, and I’m too cranky. I don’t want to be a bitch to my two closest friends.”
Janie smiled slowly as she shook her head. “Unbelievable,” she murmured.
“What’s unbelievable?”
“Lyla said you’d come up with something like that, and she told me to tell you that you haven’t seen bitchy yet. She also said if you make her come get you, you’ll be praying for just bitchy.” The sound of Janie’s sweet giggle filled Ashley with a sense of kinship and love that she desperately needed this morning.
“Grr…fine, give me five minutes. You’ll get fresh breath, and fresh armpits but nothing more.” She flashed Janie her patented calm Ashley grin and jogged upstairs to fix herself up.
Stealing a glimpse at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her teeth, she noticed today, even more than yesterday that her outward image was beginning to look a lot like the way she felt on the inside. No wonder Janie looked at you that way. Gone was the laidback “I don’t give a damn” attitude, and in its place was a wounded woman with flaws, cracks and fears. She rinsed out her mouth and leaned over the sink, putting her face closer to the mirror. Stay put, Ashley Kynde. She rubbed her hand absently over her ribs, grazing Leo’s words. “The darker the storm, the deeper the pain,” she whispered to her reflection.
“Ash, your time is up. Get down here, now.”
Pasting on her plastic smile she grabbed her sneakers and bounced down the stairs with all the fake enthusiasm she could muster.
“IT’S ABOUT FUCKING time.” The sparkle in Lyla’s blue eyes revealed more humor than agitation as she opened the door to welcome Janie and Ashley into her house.
“I thought we were supposed to meet at Starbucks, what happened to that plan?” Ashley asked, following Lyla and Janie into the kitchen.
“Not to be rude, honey, but I saw what you looked like when you opened your front door. You weren’t planning on meeting us there anyway, so who cares if the venue changed?” There was definitely something off with her two friends, she could see it in the way they were looking at her, and hear it in the tone of their voices. Was this an…
“Oh, hell no!” Ashley turned on her sneakered heel and started for the door. “I can’t believe it took me this long to figure it out,” she called over her shoulder. “What is this? Some kind of intervention? I love you girls, but I don’t need this shit. Jane, thanks for the ride, I’ll jog home—”
“Stop. Right. There.” Lyla’s voice was stern and left no room for misunderstanding. Ashley halted mid-step but kept her back to her friends. “Ashley, we’ve officially known each other long enough that we feel comfortable saying what we’re about to say. We know that you may get upset, but hopefully you care about us enough to listen and hear what we have to say.”
“Because, sweetie, you need us right now the same way I needed you not too long ago when it came to my situation with Max,” Janie quietly reminded her.
With her back still facing the kitchen where Janie and Lyla stood, Ashley closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. This was it. This was the moment where she had to decide if she was going to finally allow these people in, to show them who she was and what she did. Should she? Or should she secure her mask and put on the performance of a lifetime? What’s it gonna be, Ashley? Her choice was made easy with Lyla’s next statement.
“Ash, you can run and you can hide but we both know that the past will always find you. You’re better off building an army to help with your defense than fighting it alone. The fact is, even if you think you’re sparing those that love you, you’re not. They will still suit up, they will still go to battle but they’ll fall. You give them no choice. They’ll be armed only with their hearts because you allow them no sight.”
Her eyes stung as tears began to fill them. Lyla, the person who hid more about herself than anyone was telling her it was time to open up, and by the sound of her voice, she wasn’t only talking about Ashley. When she finally turned around to face the two beautiful souls, what she saw was breathtaking. Janie had wet tracks leaking down her ivory cheeks and Lyla’s eyes seemed truly open for the very first time. Yeah, maybe it was time to start letting people in.
“Okay, how about if I share some of my story,” she looked pointedly toward Lyla, “and then you finally give me some of your goodies.”
“Yeah right,” Lyla said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Today is all about you, Spicy.” Lyla held her hand up to ward off Ashley’s frustrated response. “The one who needs, gets. Today is your day, but I’m sure my time will come. And when it does, you can throw all of my words right back at me. Deal?” Lyla gestured to the family room, “Now, you two go get cozy and I’ll be right in there with refreshments.” Lyla turned her back to them in dismissal while Ashley followed Janie into the other room.
Ashley slumped to the floor in front of one of Lyla’s huge, overstuffed chairs. Letting her mind wander for a moment she realized that her friend’s taste in décor reflected her personality—outwardly large with its commanding presence felt, but when settled in, it was comforting, cozy and familiar. Panic bubbled in her stomach and her fingers laced together as she waited for Lyla to return.
“Honey, after that scene last night, Lyla and I decided that we can’t let you push us away a second longer.” Janie handed Ashley a shot of teq
uila and a lime wedge off the tray Lyla had brought in from the kitchen. The three women sat on the floor around the coffee table in the cozy family room.
“Christ, Janie!” Ashley grinned, “It’s ten o’clock in the morning and you’re giving me alcohol?” Ashley looked from Janie to Lyla with pleading eyes. “Has she lost her mind? Is she trying to add a drinking problem to my growing list of issues?”
Lyla snorted. “As if, Ash. We know what that body of yours can handle, so don’t try the puppy dog eyes on us.” Lyla squatted down next to Ashley with a slightly guilty look on her face, “For the record, I did tell her this wasn’t the best way to get you to talk but she disagreed, something about The Sombrero? Whatever, drink up, buttercup!”
Ashley shot a quick scathing look to Janie before Lyla continued to talk. “As for the time of day—ten a.m. or ten p.m.—as long as there’s a ten in it I think we’re good to go.” Lyla giggled at her own joke while Janie smiled brightly and handed the shot to Ashley.
“Fine,” Ashley said accepting her fate, “but if I’m drinking so are the two of you.”
Ashley found extreme satisfaction in watching Janie’s face go pale. “Are you crazy? It’s ten o’clock in the morning,” Janie complained. Laughter poured from Lyla’s slender frame as she and Ashley stared at one another quizzically and then both at Janie. When Janie realized what she had said she started giggling too and then Ashley joined in. The three women laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks.
Lyla picked up her shot of vodka, making Ashley giggle. Every time Lyla refused tequila shots, she couldn’t help but remember the story Lyla had once shared about the time she’d thrown up all over the beautiful man who was going down on her in the back seat of the expensive town car he had rented for their first date. Every. Single. Time.
“Here’s to booze to make us chatty, instead of food that makes us fatty.” Lyla giggled out her toast and saluted her friends before throwing the alcohol down her throat. She sucked on a lime that had been covered in sugar and waited for her friends to follow.
When they didn’t move she narrowed her eyes at them, “You know how much I love revenge so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll take those fucking shots.” Knowing Lyla as well as they did, Ashley and Janie quickly followed Lyla’s lead.
After the first round of shots Lyla disappeared into the kitchen and then came back with a cold pitcher of Screwdrivers. “What?” Lyla asked shrugging her shoulders. That girl has perfected her innocent face, Ashley thought to herself.
“There’s orange juice in it, so technically it can be considered a breakfast treat.” Lyla grinned as she brought the glasses along with some bagels to the table. After setting them down Lyla prompted, “Ashley, what happened last night? What’s going on with you and Ryan and more importantly…what’s going on with you?”
Maybe it was the alcohol, or Janie’s presence, or maybe it was the uncharacteristic gentleness of Lyla’s voice…she wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, Ashley felt her walls sway a bit in response to her question.
In an attempt to re-fortify them, Ashley let out a long sigh as she set her glass on the table and then ran her hands through her newly blue-streaked, blonde hair. The colors in Ashley’s hair were the only outer indicators of her mood. If people didn’t take the time to notice that then that was their problem, not hers. To her, her “hair moods” were as clear as the tears that other women cried. Although people rarely made the connection, or just didn’t take the time to notice.
Taking her glass back into her hand, she finally responded with, “What are you talking about? I’m fine.” Ashley took a healthy sip of her drink and tried hard to maintain eye contact with her friends.
“Blue is not fine…” Lyla said gently. Ashley froze. She could handle obnoxious Lyla. Crude Lyla was fun. Rude Lyla was downright entertaining, but gentle Lyla? Gentle Lyla could break her into pieces.
“Blue?” Ashley whispered.
“What Lyla is trying to say honey,” Janie intervened, “is that the streaks in your hair are blue. When you do blue, it means you’re sad. So do black and gray. Purple usually means you’re feeling bored and in need of an adventure, and—”
“Red means you’re really fucking pissed off,” Lyla finished. “You’ve been sporting a lot of red streaks lately. But over the past week, you’ve gone blue and…well, we’re really concerned.”
Lyla’s questioning eyes penetrated Ashley’s armor and she felt those walls sway once again within her, clear to the point of crashing down. And here she’d thought her feelings and emotions were hidden. She thought no one noticed and no one cared to. She should have known better. She should have known that these two women could see into her soul. They would understand her pain. Could she finally unload some of her burden? Some of her guilt?
Downing the contents of her glass and pouring another, Ashley wringed her hands and pulled in a deep breath. “So Ryan and I…” She looked at Janie and Lyla and realized she would have to go back even further for her story to make sense.
“Alright, are you sure you want to hear this whole story?” She rolled the empty glass around in her palms trying to figure out the best place to start when the glass slipped and fell onto the wooden table. The clattering sound it made when it collided with the tray startled her.
Janie squeezed her hand and said softly, “Of course, honey. Please, share with us.”
However, it was Lyla’s, “Christ, Ash, if you want more tequila just ask for it. There’s no need to get all dramatic,” paired with her inviting eyes that made Ashley realize she was safe with these girls. With her friends. It allowed her to finally unlock the suitcases of her past.
“Okay,” she began, “here we go. I met Ryan when I was fifteen. He was my brother Leo’s best friend…”
THE THREE WOMEN sat on the floor for hours that Monday, listening to Ashley’s history—from her very first kiss with Ryan right up until the weather forecast the previous evening.
Tears flowed from three pairs of eyes, gasps escaped from three different mouths, pain expressed from three different women, but by the end of the afternoon the story had been shared between them and Ashley felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Not enough to make her forgive herself entirely, but enough that she felt like she could finally swim instead of merely keeping her head above water.
“Oh, honey, my God, you’ve been holding all of that in for more than six years.”
“Janie, don’t look at me that way. This is why I don’t tell people about it. I can’t deal with the pity looks. It’s over. It’s done. I’ve moved on. But, I can’t be with Ryan. I just can’t let myself love him. He’d be better with someone else.”
“Six,” Lyla said out loud, smirking.
“Lyla, what the fuck are you talking about?” Ashley knew before she even asked the question that she wasn’t going to like the answer but, stupidly, she asked anyway.
“It’s actually impressive, Janie. I’m impressed with her,” Lyla said addressing Janie but staring only at Ashley.
“Ly, don’t do this, she needs comfort not confrontation.” Janie winced at Lyla’s glare.
Ashley sighed dramatically, “Okay, I give in, I’m listening.”
“In that short, ridiculous statement, you lied six times. Six! That’s a lot of bullshit for such a short statement, don’t you think?”
“What the hell, Lyla?” Ashley felt the flush creeping up her cheeks. She should have known she’d never be able to hide anything from Lyla. When you spent your life keeping your own secrets you become amazingly adept at sniffing out other people’s.
Lyla leaned in closer. “You, my sweet, kind, caring friend, are full of shit. It’s not over. It’s not done. You haven’t moved on, and you should be with Ryan. I’ve never seen a connection deeper than the one you two share. He isn’t better without you, Ashley, he’s merely surviving—the same way you are. You want to feed yourself garbage, fine, but don’t serve it to us and call it chocolate…cause
we know it’s shit!”
The statement hit Ashley somewhere deep inside and she squared her shoulders and glared at her friend. “You’re one to talk, Lyla—”
“Okay, girls, let’s rein it in.” Ashley could see the nervousness creeping its way onto Janie’s face.
“Listen, Ash,” Lyla’s voice softened a fraction, easing some of the jagged edge off of her tone, “I know I’m being a complete hypocrite. I realize that, okay? But you’re fucking up something really, really special.” Lyla ran her long fingers through her ebony hair in what appeared to be frustration. “My God, Ash, how often do you find someone that devotes their life to you? That man has spent more than six years listening to you say no. But eventually he’s going to give up. Is that really what you want?” The pure pain and frustration in Lyla’s voice was as clear as the sun in the sky. She really did want to see happiness for her friends. However…
“Lyla.” Exasperation filled Ashley’s tortured body. “Where have you been? That boy has been whoring around for close to six months now. He’s had more ass than a public toilet seat. He has given up. He has moved on.”
Saying it out loud finally made it real, and the agony flooded her heart, making it hard to breathe. The dam that had been holding back all of her feelings for Ryan since she was eighteen years old—shattered, and she was left hanging on to a branch in the middle of the water, praying for survival. Tears poured down her face.
“I don’t deserve him after all I’ve done. I’ve been horrible to him for years. I pushed him away and locked him out and he’s finally moved on. I refuse to be like the selfish twits in all of those romance novels who suddenly decide they want the guy and rush back to him—not giving a damn that he’s happy without them. I won’t do it.” Her voice cracked and she accepted the tissue from Janie’s outstretched hand.
“Well,” Lyla shrugged, “you’ve definitely been a bitch to him, no doubt about that…Ouch! Janie, don’t pinch me.” Lyla pierced Janie with a frosty stare. “I was agreeing with her. Let me finish before inflicting bodily harm. Sheesh.”
