Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
A shley
“You are not going to believe what happened to me,” I tell my sister on the phone while I drive to work.
“You got struck by Nini’s wheelchair?” Annica guesses.
“I’m becoming a yes girl!”
It goes cricket quiet. “Hello?” I prompt. “Did you hear me?”
“Ash, I hate to break this to you, but you’ve been a yes girl for a while now. You agree with everything Ross says whether you want to or not.”
My brow furrows. “Hmm.” Maybe that was the wrong term. I check the rear and side views and flick on my blinker. “Not yes to him, Annica. Yes to me and all the things I haven’t let myself do.”
I switch lanes and accelerate to pass the slow van in front of me.
“Oooh, I like it. What are you going to say yes to?”
“I’m glad you asked. I’m saying yes to selling the Camry, yes to getting a new job, and yes to moving into the city.” I go on to tell her about the video clip Lucy showed me last night and how it spoke to my very soul. By the time I pull into the office parking lot, I realize Annica hasn’t said a whole lot back.
“So?” I say. “Aren’t you proud of me?”
“I will be,” Annica says plainly.
I put the car in park and shrug. “When?”
“When you actually take action, for one. And you know what would really convince me that you’re serious about saying yes?”
I cringe in preparation, somehow knowing I’m not going to like it. “What?” I catch myself flinching like I’m about to get slapped.
“If you come to the campout with me.”
I gasp. Now, she’s just not playing fair. “Annica, why did you pick the one thing I told you sounded like my definition of hell?”
“Because I want to go, Ashley, but I don’t want to go with just anyone, and I most definitely don’t want to go alone.”
My insides start to ache from the dilemma. “Anything but that,” I say.
“I bet if Ross wanted you to, you would.”
My eyes nearly bulge out of my face. That was below the belt. I’m orchestrating a rebuttal when a slight tap comes to the passenger side window. I throw a hand over my startled heart and shake my head; it’s Ross. He’s probably going to offer to put the bumper sticker on right now.
“Just a second,” I tell Annica, and tap the window down an inch.
“You bet Ashley would do what if Ross wanted her to do it?” Ross asks my sister through the speaker.
“Hi, Ross. We’re talking about fetishes. I told her that—despite the fact that you guys are divorced—she’d probably spit in your face if you asked her to. Do you want her to do that?”
Ross cringes and backs away from the car. “You two are sick. Oh, and get that bumper sticker on there, would you, Ashley?”
This is my chance. My heart spikes wildly out of beat as I tap the window down another inch. Ross is already a few feet away, so I holler to make sure he hears. “I’m selling the Camry, so the bumper sticker is a bad idea.”
I watch, half horrified, half amused, as Ross freezes like he just hit an ice block. He takes three backward strides. “Say that again?”
“We’ll talk about it inside, Dr. Brynn,” I say. “Looks like Brenda just pulled up.”
He does a double take toward the north end of the lot where she parks her Band-Aid colored VW. “Yes,” he assures me, “we will.”
Annica bursts into laughter. “Whoa, you really are serious, aren’t you?”
My breaths come out jagged and hitched. “I really am,” I say proudly. And because I’m so high on the feelings of empowerment, the sheer, liberating joy of doing something I’ve wanted to do for so long, I decide to accept Annica’s challenge. “And you know what?” I say, not giving myself the chance to change my mind. “I’ll do it.”
“You’ll do what?”
“I’ll go to the campout with you.”
Annica squeals. “You really will?”
An image of Liam bobs in my mind like a buoy. As terrified as I am about the idea of seeing him after all these years, I’m excited about it, too. I want to make sure he goes, but I also don’t want him to know that I’ll be going, too. Already, a new fear spikes up—what if he’s dating one of the single moms, and I have to watch them cuddle and kiss the whole time?
Nope, I tell myself, remember what Venessa Kaylee said. I won’t psych myself out. “Really,” I say. “I’ll do it.”