Where She Was Loved

by Sarah Tomlinson

  He slowly wound down his spin, but didn't dare let go of me, catching his breath between the laughter we could no longer contain. The seconds ticked by and the atmosphere shifted as we stared into one another's eyes, the noise around us evaporating as a solemn, intense moment sparked between us. He was all I could see, all I wanted to see. He reached forward, brushing my cheek with his thumb. I shivered in a delightful way, the sensation sparking something deep within me. For a split second, nothing else existed, just the two of us drawn into the other's eyes, into the other's very soul.

  Things were changing between us every second we were together. Our friendship was beginning to morph into something else. Something was pushing me to take things further, to explore these new feelings. The only way to stop whatever was happening, was to walk away and never see him again, but the mere thought of never seeing Eric again pained me. The very idea of never looking at him, laughing with him or touching him, caused my chest to ache.

  Our moment was over all too quickly as his grandfather opened the front door, immediately bursting our private bubble. I reluctantly pulled away sighing, jumping from Eric's arms and back on solid ground. I was disappointed and yet relieved all at once.

  "Ashley!" Graham greeted. "It's so good to see you. What are you kids up to today?"

  "Heading to the pool with the twins," I replied comfortably, scooting away from Eric and running to wrap my arms around his grandfather for a quick hug. It wasn't something I ever would have dreamed of doing even a year ago, but I was smitten with the old man and by his welcoming smile, I hoped he too was also just as delighted by me.

  "Can I give you two a ride into town? I was just heading to the church," he offered. I nodded happily and took his offer of a lift.

  "Sure," Eric agreed, shrugging his shoulders as he began following us to the garage. I looked over at him and saw... disappointment. Was he that upset about driving with the pastor?

  We all piled into the silver Camry and I laughed as I watched Eric fold his large body into the front passenger seat, looking all kinds of uncomfortable. The car definitely hadn't been designed to fit tall frames like his. Now that I knew him better and had walked beside him so many times, his height was more around six foot three. I wondered if he had stopped growing. I had no idea but I needed to look that up at the library.

  Graham put the car into gear and began the short trek. The modern instrument panels and the smooth lines of the sleek gray automobile fascinated me. My father's truck was soiled, malodorous, and raucous, but at least the radio still worked.

  "The engine is so quiet," I remarked.

  "Yes. Even for a used car, it's in pretty good condition," he replied, patting at the steering wheel.

  "It seems new to me," I stated.

  "So, Ashley," Graham began, "I hear you and your father are camping out in the woods for the summer." I was pretty sure he knew that and guessed he was just stating it again to be polite.

  My stomach bottomed out. "Yes," I replied in a small voice from the backseat.

  "That is quite adventurous," the pastor remarked. "You know, we have guest rooms to accommodate the two of you if the weather gets bad or you just want a solid roof over your heads."

  He was really sweet. If he only knew how much I wanted to take him up on the offer.

  "Thank you, but we're fine," I responded. I felt my face flush, not wanting to explain to him or Eric that my father would erupt into a rage if I accepted the kind invitation. I had already tried that once this summer, after I agreed to stay at Meg's for one night and the next morning before work my back received a new bruise, courtesy of my father's temperament.

  "Okay, well, keep it in mind," he said, leaving the offer on the table. He pulled up in front of the twins' house and we exited the car. "Have fun guys," he called out the window as he drove off.

  "Thanks for the ride," I politely waved back.

  Eric turned to me as his grandfather pulled away. "Sorry about that," he apologized, running a hand through his hair. I loved when he did that. I had come to realize he did it when he was nervous or unsure about something. It was... cute.

  "Are you kidding? He saved us having to walk," I smiled and we started up the driveway towards the twins' house. "Besides, I need to conserve my energy so I can kick your butt in the pool!"

  "Is that so?" He quirked a brow and I knew what was coming and ran up the driveway, laughing and trying to make it inside as he took chase.

  We had a wonderful afternoon swimming with the twins. The weather was so hot my skin had become tanned from being out in it so much while picking or walking around Ligonier. It was good to just cool off and float in the water for a bit. We walked the twins home and said our goodbyes before we began the trek back towards our homes, smelling of chlorine and sunscreen, just as the sun was setting.

  My picking job this season was great. Mr. Granger was a kind, old man who insisted I have the weekends free for fun. His favorite line to me was, "You're only young once. So, enjoy it while you're wrinkle free." He made me laugh often, and I wasn't about to turn down his offer of weekends free. Best part, my father had said nothing to that.

  As we walked, Eric's fingers caught mine, tucking them into his. I kept my gaze on the ground, all the while smiling with elation. It wasn't the first time over the past week he had taken my hand in his and I hoped it wasn't the last either.

  "You know, I'm kinda glad I got into trouble," Eric confessed, glancing at me shyly all of a sudden.

  "Really?" I asked, looking puzzled. It wasn't something I would be glad about.

  "Well, yeah. I got to meet you," he smiled over at me. "I mean, I've met a lot of really nice people, and Meg and Aiden are awesome. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm really glad you're here."

  "Me too." I smiled back at him. "Actually, this has been the best summer ever," I admitted.

  I had loved every summer my father had brought me back to Pennsylvania, but now, they seemed bland in comparison to this one. Eric had stepped out of nowhere and flipped my somber existence into shades of multi-colored light. He made me long for more than what I had been settling for, tolerating for too damn long. He had no idea what it felt like to have male figures in my life that didn't have violence attached to them.

  We turned the bend in the road that passed by the campsite only to see my father mere feet away, standing in the middle of it with his hands on his hips. His face was crimson from drinking and his eyes burned into mine with a ferocious anger. He strode purposefully toward us the moment he caught sight of our joined hands. Grabbing me roughly by the arm, he ripped my fingers out of Eric's hold.

  "So this is who you've been hanging around whenever I'm out of sight," he roared, his breath thick with the stench of hard liquor. "What do you think you're doing, Ash–"

  "Hey," Eric bellowed, ripping my arm free from my father's vice-like grip. "We were just at the pool. You don't need to manhandle her like that!" I picked up on the low warning in Eric's voice as he stepped in front of me.

  "You don't own a suit," my father instigated, ignoring the young man blocking me from view.

  "I borrowed one from Meg," I replied, my voice quivering with fear, my body beginning to shake knowing what was to come.

  As if on cue, he exploded in anger. "What have I told you about accepting charity?" he tried to lash out at me, his arm flying around the side of Eric's body.

  "She didn't do anything wrong!" Eric yelled, trying to keep himself between me and my father.

  He shoved Eric out of the way, as if the man blocking me was of no threat to him, even if he was a good six inches taller. He again seized my arm and I cried out. As Eric went to lunge at my father, I held up my free hand, my eyes pleading for him to hold back. He momentarily stilled, for which I was thankful. Maybe with someone else as a witness, my father wouldn't go too far. Oh, how wrong I was.

  "First, you manipulate Ava into giving us free food and now you're taking clothes from that girl? What else are you doing, Ashley?
You have no idea how hard it is for me to put bread on the table, you ungrateful little–"

  He lost control, like always, before finishing his sentence and backhanded me hard across the face; it knocked me to the ground with its force.

  "You son of a..." Eric roared.

  I instinctively rose a protective hand ready for the next blow when out of my peripheral vision I saw Eric's fist slam into my father's face. I laid in shock, my eyes bulging as I watched in slow motion as Liam fell onto his back, his head banging against the ground beneath him.

  Suddenly, everything sped up again in real time. Eric screamed irately at my father, his voice deep, with an anger that matched my father's. "Don't you ever hit her again, or I swear it will be your last breath!" he warned as he stood above my father, powerless to the young man. With a final solid kick, Eric turned and looked at me, hate in his eyes. He blinked a few times, and then I saw the softness within them return, as if merely looking at me had calmed whatever storm had been stirred up inside of him.

  My father had never hit me in front of another person before. Now, shame washed over me knowing what Eric witnessed. He had seen a part of my life I never wanted him, or anyone, to ever see. And up until that point, I had kept it hidden from everyone I knew.

  "Run, Ashley!" he yelled, grabbing me by the hand. I flew through the air and landed on my feet as Eric pulled me along. We ran through the woods, brush hitting and scraping at our legs as we picked up the pace. I could hear Liam, whom was back on his feet and taking up the chase, yelling obscenities behind us.

  I turned my head to look behind –my father swerving drunkenly, unsteady on his feet and unable to catch up. The cows looked at us askance as we ran past them in the field and towards Eric's grandfather's house.

  Bursting noisily through the front door, Mrs. Brooks came hurriedly out of the kitchen toward us in the hallway. "Why are we slamming doors? What's with all of the ruckus?" she asked.

  "Ash's... father," Eric breathlessly tried to explain as Graham appeared from the sitting room. "He... he hit her. If I didn't get her out of there, I was afraid what he might have done," he finished, wearing a deep angry frown between his brows.

  Graham placed a hand on my shoulder. I kept one of mine tucked safely between Eric's and the other I crossed over my midsection, protectively. One side of my face was still burning bright red and thumping from where my father had backhanded me. I wished I had the ability to melt into the floor in that moment as Graham and Mrs. Brooks looked at me worriedly.

  "Come in and have a seat," Graham said softly as he ushered us both into the sitting room. "I'll be right back," he reassured me before leaving the room. The incensed closing of the front door signified he had vacated the house.

  "I'll fix some tea," Mrs. Brooks said warmly before doing what she did best.

  I sat down with Eric wedged beside me on the couch. He placed his hand on my back to rub it reassuringly but before I knew it, he pulled me into his lap. I embraced his comforting gesture and threw my arms around his shoulders, nestling my head tight into his neck. His pulse was quickened and sure, giving me the comfort I longed for and the security I craved. I hoped with me being there, his arms wrapped around me, also helped to calm him down. I could feel the tension in his body ready to fight if he needed to.

  It was only a few minutes later when Graham re-entered the room, dabbing the sweat from his forehead as he took a seat across from us.

  "He won't be coming back here tonight, so you can rest assured," he promised. "Ashley, has your father hurt you before?"

  My throat tightened as a hot tear slid down my cheek. I was speechless. I never wanted to have this conversation with another living soul. All I could do was nod, unable to look his way.

  "Why haven't you told anyone?" Eric asked, leaning away from me to look into my eyes.

  "Because he would kill me. He threatened to on more than a few occasions and I believe him," I whispered, only wanting him to hear.

  "I think we need to contact the authorities, Ashley. I warned your father that if I ever heard another report of him hitting you I would call the police, but who knows for how long that will scare him," Graham said, concern etched upon his face.

  "No, no please don't do that," I begged, my head whipping to the side, my eyes large and pleading. I may not like my father, but he was all I had.

  "You need to get help, Ash," Eric stated. "You can't live like this."

  I felt his body tense up further, wild with suppressed anger. "That was the first in a long time," I lied trying to reassure him. "And I don't have anyone else," I admitted.

  "You have us," he stated as he reached up to stroke my sore cheek gently.

  I smiled at him sadly. "You're going back to Memphis at the end of the summer," I reminded him.

  "Come with me," he pleaded.

  My heart exploded. Who was this boy? He barely knew me, yet he was offering me a home. I might be uneducated, but I wasn't stupid. We're young and, surely, he would tire of me soon enough; then where would I be?

  “I… can’t. But I promise, six more months and I'm gone. I won't stay with him a moment longer.” I so badly wanted to say yes to his offer, but I couldn't. "Besides, I doubt he will hurt me again after the warning you just handed to him. And well, whatever your grandfather said, it's sure to straighten him out." I had to admit, seeing my father knocked on his back was something I will never forget. "I promise he will feel real stupid and apologetic tomorrow," I reassured. It was another lie, but Eric didn't know that. My father would never apologize, not even if his life depended on it.

  Graham was silently watching our exchange the whole time. He cleared his throat before speaking, "Well, Ashley, I'm going against my better judgement. If you say he won't do it again, I'm willing to trust you. But this is the first and last time I will let this go. If you ever need to get out, please, run here as fast as possible. My home is always open to you."

  A part of me felt the relief. The last thing I wanted was to go into the foster system six months before I was free to leave on my own. I just had to hang it out a little longer.

  "Thank you," I sincerely acknowledged.

  "Well, I think it's time for you to freshen up, dinner will be ready shortly." He stood from his seat and left the room. I saw the pain in his eyes, and knew for him to walk away without taking further action wasn't something he would have normally done. I was thankful for his decision, he had no idea how thankful.

  I was so tired from the last few hours' events that when Mrs. Brooks asked what I would like for dinner, I replied that I just wanted to go to bed. Saying goodnight to Eric, I rose from his lap, the very place I had been glued to the past hour. The heat from his body vanished and was replaced with the cold, lonely feeling I was accustomed to. I couldn't bring myself to look back at him as Mrs. Brooks led me to one of the spare rooms. I had the feeling that he wasn't in the mood to talk anyway; his mind was most likely still wired from what went down. I would give him the night to settle and talk to him more about it another time.

  I chose to forgo the shower, my eyes wanting to close, my mind begging to shut down and just rest. Climbing beneath the covers, I didn't even have time to marvel and appreciate how soft the bed was as sleep claimed me within seconds.

  I didn't wait for Eric to wake the next day. It felt strange waking up in someone's home. I had no idea what to do, so I left before the sun came up and just wandered around in the woods by myself for a bit. I did make sure to leave a note of thanks on the kitchen counter before leaving.

  When I finally returned to our campsite, my father was absent and the camp quiet. I was relieved. I walked to the creek and sat down next to the water rushing on by. I just had to keep on repeating to myself. Six months, just six more months...

  Chapter Nine

  Ashley - August 2010

  My father hadn't spoken to me in weeks. It was a nice reprieve, one I was thankful for. We still drove together to work and back to park at Pesky's, but then like every
other day after he clocked out, he walked into the bar without bothering to acknowledge my existence, leaving me to go my own way.

  I managed to pocket some of my earnings and go shopping at some of the local thrift stores. I made sure to grab the essential undergarments and some decent clothes that were actually my size and covered what they needed to. Ava insisted that I simply needed more and slipped extra pieces of clothing and toiletries into the bag she always kept by the B&B kitchen back door, along with food and some extra money. I was so grateful for her kindness, but I couldn't take the money. I had no idea how I would ever be able to pay it back, so I left it in the bag. I knew I should have given the extras back, too, but I really needed them. I promised myself that one day, when I was able to, I would return the favor somehow for every generous thing she had ever done for me.

  "So, what are the plans for this week?" Eric asked everyone sitting around the table. We were at Ava's and the place was packed with tourists. The twins and I looked at each other sadly.

  "Don't you know?" Aiden asked.

  "Know what?" Eric looked at us obviously confused.

  "It's the end of picking season," Meg gloomily admitted, her finger making invisible patterns on the table.

  "I leave at the end of this week," I finished, my heart heavy with the sad realization. This had been the best summer in Ligonier yet and I was devastated it was coming to an end. This time felt harder, like I knew I would be leaving my heart behind.

  "You can't go yet," Eric exclaimed. "I'll still be here until September at least." I looked up at him and saw the sadness behind his eyes. They reflected my own feelings. And this was probably why my father had always warned me not to make attachments, it made it that much harder to walk away.

  "We have to go now before all the jobs are taken for the fall harvest in New York."

  Ava entered at that exact moment with our plates of food. She had a bright red bandanna wrapped around her hair like Rosie the Riveter and she looked frazzled.