by A. J. Downey
“You don’t have to do that, I’m not going to do anything,” she said from the bathroom doorway.
I said, “I thought you weren’t going to argue.” I looked over my shoulder to where she stood in the doorway, clutching fresh PJs to her chest.
“Fair,” she said with a fatigued nod. She looked thoroughly strained around her edges.
“You got three minutes to change and I’m coming in,” I told her with a faint smile to try and take the sting out of the statement. She tried a tremulous smile back, but it fell a little flat.
“I’ll leave the door cracked,” she murmured.
“I won’t look,” I assured her and took the basket of dangerous items into the bedroom with me and dropped onto the edge of the bed. She swung the door shut until only a sliver of light illuminated the bedroom. I lifted the dust ruffle on the bed and slid the basket under it.
While I was down there, I took off my boots and socks.
“Why did you come?” she asked softly, and I tried to glue my eyes to anywhere but that sliver of light as I heard her clothing rustle as she changed it.
“You called. Didn’t sound good. Why wouldn’t I come?” I asked with a shrug, getting to my feet and working my belt.
She ran water in the sink in the bathroom and I risked a peek. She was changed into this country nightgown, white, eyelets, something that belonged on an old lady except it looked somehow right on her. It made that innocence and purity of hers shine even brighter. I folded my jeans and put them on top of her dresser before I pulled the faded black TOOL tee I had on with the sleeves ripped out off over my head to fold it up too.
I was lucky I hadn’t gone commando this morning, instead opting for some form-fitting black boxer briefs. I sniffed, threw my tail of braids with their beads back over my shoulder to hang to just above the middle of my back and turned around just as she halted in the bathroom doorway, her lovely face freshly scrubbed of all that awful, muddied makeup.
Color creeped up from her chest into her cheeks and I made nothing of it, not wanting to make things worse.
“Did you want me to sleep on the couch?” she stammered, and I frowned at her.
“Fuck no,” I said. “This is your house.”
She shook her head and said, “It’s my mom’s house, actually.”
I got into the bed on one side and lifted the blankets on what would be her side tonight, arching my eyebrows, silently asking what she was waiting for. She stood for a second, her arms crossed over her chest, hands digging into her bare upper arms, one foot adorably crossed over the other and finally with a little sound of defeat, she snapped out the bathroom light and got into bed beside me. She laid down on her side, facing me and I adjusted myself onto my side to face her.
We stared at each other for a moment in silence, the light from outside tinged blue with the night coming in softly through the bedroom window and illuminating her face gently.
“Your mom’s gone, baby,” I said the gentlest I could. “That makes it yours now.”
“Not really. Um, my mom left it to me and my brother, Copper. When Copper died, everything that was his went to Christen and their son, Silver. Everything is sort of a mess right now. Nothing is settled. He and I agreed we would sell it, divide the proceeds in half but that was before he died and I found out what Charles was doing.”
I frowned and reached out a hand, curling it around her free hand where it wasn’t curled beneath the pillow like her other one was. I gave it a light squeeze and said, “Talk to me. What’s up? I can’t help you if I don’t know the full story.”
“The day after Copper died, I was wrung out. Exhausted. I’d been at the hospital all night, worked all day, and when I got home…” she shrugged. “I don’t know. I cooked dinner in a fog and when I finally sat down,” she shrugged, “I just fell asleep. Charles was on his phone and leaning against me. I woke up and happened to see his screen.”
“Texting another woman?” I guessed.
“A man, actually.” She snorted. “He was texting back and I quote, ‘Well, I was trying to come over and suck your cock but you didn’t answer me in time.’”
“Oh, shit,” I said, and she closed her eyes and just looked tired.
“It was the day after my brother had just died, exactly a month after my mother died. I’m surprised I didn’t lose it.”
“You didn’t?”
“Mm-mm. I just demanded to know who he was talking to and told him not to lie to me.”
“Let me guess, he lied.”
“Oh, of course he did.”
“What’d you do then?”
“I packed a bag, told him to leave me be, and that I would have the rest of my belongings out by the end of the week. I came here.”
“Atta girl,” I said evenly, suppressing my savage pride.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “He’s going to take everything from me.” She gave a bitter laugh and said, “Never mind that I was carrying us, and he was hiding money from me. Never mind that, come to find out, he actually made more than me last year. I don’t think I can fight him. All of my savings went to inheritance tax… I can barely afford my attorney for the divorce!”
“Hey, hey, hey!” I tried to head off her getting more wrapped around the axle, untangling my hand from hers and smoothing some of her wild blond curls away from her face.
“One thing, one day at a time.”
She sealed her lips into a grim line and with a slight whimper nodded, trying valiantly to stave off tears.
“You were right to call me,” I said, and I took a deep breath and let it out slow. “Nobody should have to deal with this alone.”
A tear escaped and dripped down her nose and she squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth through what had to be an unimaginable pain. I thumbed the moisture away and said, “Come here, no fuckery. Just come here.”
She came to me and let me hold her tight while a fresh storm went through her. I sighed and had to wonder why was she alone? I mean, where were her kickass gal pals? Or had that wild snatch back at the bar been her only friend? God, I fucking hoped not.
There was more to this. I could feel it. All in good time, though.
She had a friend, now. A friend in me. I just hoped it would be enough.
Chapter Seven
Aspen…
“Hm, not yet.” His arms tightened around me as I went to creep out of bed and I froze. “We still need to talk,” he murmured.
I swallowed hard. “T-talk about what?” I stammered.
“About why you would say what you did last night – about not wanting to be alive anymore.” His arms tightened again, almost imperceptibly, and I closed my eyes, cautiously relishing the contact, chastising myself for allowing it to feel so good… too good.
I couldn’t see his face, my back to his front, spooned firmly by his much larger frame. I was glad for that, burning with shame as I was.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said in the barest of whispers.
“Gotta talk to somebody, and I’m right here,” he said, and I closed my eyes.
“I shouldn’t have called.”
“I’m glad that you did. That I could be here for you.”
I was too, for that last part, but somehow in the light of day, I felt marginally stronger.
“Thank you,” I said, not really knowing what else to say that was the right thing to say beyond that.
“You’re welcome,” he said, and I didn’t know what to do.
Finally, after a long, somewhat tense silence, I said, “I have to go to work.”
“You sure you’re good?” he asked.
“No,” I said honestly. “But even though he’s trying to take it from me, work is one of the few stabilizing things I have left.”
He didn’t let me go, just froze a little behind me and I could almost feel his frown.
“Who’s trying to take what, now?” he asked and yep, the scowl I couldn’t see, I could definitely hear in his voice.
“My ex-husband,” I said softly. “I got papers in the mail; he wants half my business.”
Fenris grunted and let me go, his hand sliding from my midsection to rest atop my hip. “I’ll handle it,” he said firmly. I pushed myself up into a sitting position and looked back at him. He twisted, lying on his back and giving a stretch reminiscent of a large cat. I blinked and tried to keep my eyes off of his tattoos and that physique. His blue eyes searched mine carefully, and I swallowed hard.
“Charles isn’t a bad guy,” I whispered, and it felt strange to defend my ex-husband. Wrong somehow.
“I beg to differ, baby,” Fenris said softly. “He broke your heart and now he’s coming after the one thing keeping the pieces going. That makes him a shitty person.”
I swallowed hard, tears springing to my eyes. I swept my gaze off of Fenris and fixed it onto something nonsensical at the moment – a block of pattern on the covers that had slipped into our laps.
“He just wants me to talk to him,” I said and swallowed hard.
“You don’t have to,” he said. “And it’s the mark of a controlling, shitty human being that he’s trying to manipulate you into doing it.”
“What if I said I didn’t want you to do anything?” I asked softly.
He breathed in slow, in through his nose, nostrils flaring slightly, and out through his mouth.
“Then I won’t, but I won’t let you despair either. Not like this. Not anymore.”
“Why?” I asked softly.
“Why do I care?” he asked.
I nodded and couldn’t look at him again.
“I just do,” he answered and sighed. “You should get ready for work.”
I nodded again and slipped over the edge of the bed and put my feet on the floor. I was tired from the late, emotional night, and my thoughts were racing. I moved about the room gathering things to wear that day and slipped into the bathroom, Fenris watching my every move from the bed.
Damn, looking at him in my bed, comforter piled artfully in his lap, muscular tattooed body on full display… the man was an absolute feast for the eyes.
He hadn’t made a move, though. His hands always remaining both steady and respectful. I still ached despite it. A part of me wished for a touch more intimate, but I didn’t think he was interested like that and I really needed a friend right now, so I didn’t want to push my luck. I mean, besides all that, I shouldn’t even consider any type of relationship right now, right? I mean, I was in the middle of a divorce!
I stared at myself in the mirror – at the dark circles under my eyes and my complexion just… off, almost sallow from all the stress.
I let out a huge gusty sigh and said out loud to my reflection, “I need a break. From all of it.”
It wasn’t likely to materialize, and business wasn’t exactly booming. I was barely hanging on and I was feeling so very lost – like I was drowning on dry land and there was absolutely nothing to be done for it.
“All you can do is keep going,” I murmured, and I piled on the makeup once I was dressed to hide just how awful I was starting to look. It was taking a lot more concealer under my eyes lately, that was for sure.
When I went out, my bed was empty. I slipped into a pair of flats from over in front of the closet and went out into the rest of the house. I found him, dressed and standing near a small pile of moving boxes, the paperwork that’d come in the mail in his big, tattooed hands, his blue eyes keen as it drifted over the legalese.
There was a keen intelligence in those eyes, etched into the lines and angles of his hard face, his expression dark as he absorbed what was in those papers. Except where it had wrought sorrow from my breast, in Fen it stoked anger. I could see the spark, the blaze igniting behind his eyes and I was surprised to find I wasn’t at all frightened, but rather… warmed.
“You got a lawyer?” he asked, and I jumped slightly.
“Yes, but they have a lot of cases and I’m afraid they’re hard to reach. I’m feeling a little forgotten lately but I’m sure they’re doing their best.”
He snorted and said, “I’ll make some calls.”
“To who?” I asked, frowning slightly.
“Club’s lawyer, see if he can recommend someone better.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve already put so much into the lawyer I’ve got and I’m not sure I can afford—”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” he said gently, and I bit my lips together.
“What should I worry about then?” I asked, the silence too much to handle.
“Getting to work on time would be a good place to start.”
“Oh! Right!”
He smiled at me as I rushed to gather my coat and purse and twisted this way and that taking in the disaster that was my mom’s kitchen and living room.
“How long’s it been like this?” he asked.
I let out a breath and looked around myself and confessed, “Too long. I mean, everything has been happening all at once – first Mom and then Copper, then my husband all together like that. Then when I said I was leaving, Charles insisted I be the one to leave the house, and I wasn’t even a quarter done boxing things for Goodwill here. I just, I don’t know… it just all got to be too much,” I stammered, realizing I was rambling, my face growing hot.
“Okay, this is easy. We’ll take it one box at a time.”
“What?” I asked, looking up at him in surprise.
“I’ll come by tonight and bring a pizza and some beers. We’ll get through some of it. A little at a time.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” I said, voice trembling.
“You didn’t ask, and I’m not either. I’m coming by tonight and I’m going to help you.”
I gave him a watered-down smile and said, “A little pushy, aren’t you?”
He swung into his jacket with the brightly patched, if dirty, vest on over it and gave me an ironic smile bordering on shy.
“Am I giving off some red flag vibes?” he asked, and I folded my arms across my chest, hugging myself.
“Maybe a little,” I said, timidly. I wouldn’t look at him, my eyes fixed on the floor. I jumped when his boots appeared followed by his hand. He tipped my chin and I looked at him.
“You don’t have anything to be afraid of from me,” he said and his tone was so resolute. I mean, I knew he could be lying but my shoulders unknotted anyway.
“That’s good to know,” I murmured, taking a half step back. He dropped his hand and smiled, the expression holding a hint of sadness.
“You got your things?” he asked softly, and I nodded.
“Alright, let’s get you on the road.”
We left my mother’s house, and I locked the door. I looked out to the street, at my car parked at the curb, his bike parked just behind it and asked, “You’re sure?”
“When do you get off work?” he asked.
“Seven.”
“See you here at eight?”
“Okay.”
“Have a good day at work, Aspen. I’ll swing by and check on how you’re doing if you’re alright with that.”
I couldn’t look at him, but I nodded. I was so torn. I felt pathetic, but I couldn’t deny I needed the help, even if it was just the company while I worked.
“Here at eight, sure,” I agreed.
“I’ll bring my truck; take anything you don’t want to Goodwill.”
“That would be helpful,” I said gratefully.
“Okay.”
He put his hand to my lower back and ushered me down the walk to my car, standing on the curb until I’d pulled away. I kept glancing in my rearview mirror, watching as he climbed onto his bike before I had to turn the corner.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and with shaking hands, guided my steering wheel and my little car through another turn as I wound my way to the freeway.
It was practically a straight shot up I-5 North to my little
shop in the artsy corner of Georgetown, a neighborhood patrolled by the Seattle Police. Seattle as a city was full of these little pockets of neighborhoods with their own identities. Nobody local blinked about saying you were headed to Ballard, Georgetown, or Fremont as if they were little towns and cities all their own and not just a scrap of neighborhood that was a part of some larger whole.
I took the Swift-Albro exit and wound my way down over the freeway to the little intersection interchange that led me onto Airport Way. Parking in the lot behind my storefront, a block down from the old Jules Maes Saloon, I let myself in the back door and into the room that held my shelves of projects waiting to be fired.
I ducked into the little back office to set my things down and to take up my apron, slipping it over my head and tying it around my waist. I checked the messages on Clayrity’s phone system, putting them on speaker as I always did as I went about my morning duties of emptying kilns, putting finished, fired projects on their shelves, and unglazed or only first-fired projects on another as I listened and took mental notes.
“Hey Aspen, it’s Penny. I just wanted to let you know that your soon-to-be-ex was making inquiries about your financials. He’s still listed on your accounts so I had to give him the information. Please, do not tell anyone I told you. I could so get fired. I’ll see you on Paint Night and I’ll bring you a bottle of that Ice wine I was telling you about. I’m so sorry this is happening to you; I hope you’ve got a good lawyer. Okay, bye!”
Penny worked for the credit union I belonged to and had all of Clayrity’s financials routed through.
I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the threatening tears. I didn’t think I was strong enough to do any of this anymore.
I finally sat down on the step ladder I kept back here to reach the higher shelves and let myself have a good cry.
No, it didn’t really help.
I looked up and around my little shop and felt it slipping away as despair surged in.
I think I knew deep down I was going to lose everything I had ever loved, but I just wasn’t willing to let go. Not yet anyway.
Too much, I thought to myself. It’s all just too much…
