6. Ashley
ASHLEY
M y hair was definitely on fire. I definitely wanted to scream and cry and rage. I thought about pulling a Fox, stripping naked and wading into the ocean, but never coming back.
Why would he do this to me? Why?
Because he was Fox. He was forever catching my arm if we crossed a street together, in case I forgot to look for traffic on my right because they drove on the other side of the road in Australia. Shane was a heavy-pour kind of host while Fox always brought me a water if I had more than two glasses of alcohol. More often than not, he also brought me a burger or some other substantial meal to soak up whatever I was drinking.
I would love to say I was special, but Fox had dedicated his life to keeping Shane out of trouble, too. Shane was impulsive and wildly optimistic and never would have paid the mortgage on time if his fiscally-responsible housemate hadn’t looked after that pesky detail. Same with Togs and Boards. Shane was a geek for sports equipment and outdoor gadgets, but he would have made all the usual rookie mistakes of overextending during start-up if Fox hadn’t set budgets and limited their inventory. Fox had had the idea to hire me to give their social media a shot in the arm in exchange for staying in their house for free.
I still wanted to kill him. What did Fox know about me and Shane?
More than I did, apparently, if Shane had confided to him that he didn’t want to marry me without informing me .
I shouldn’t be surprised that his parents had pressured him into proposing, either. His, ‘What do you think? Should we get married?’ hadn’t exactly brimmed with loving sentiment.
I’d been stunned that he’d said that much. That he had cared that much. Shane could have anyone. Why me? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with me that a little therapy wouldn’t cure. I’m plump in the rear and lean in the self-esteem, but I’m nice. I’m cute. I can be funny.
But Shane is an intrepid, entrepreneurial, barrel-chasing surfer where I’m a prairie girl who can hardly swim. Not in rolling waves, anyway. Shane isn’t afraid to break rules whereas I abide by the speed limit. I would wet myself before I’d use a handicapped stall and I’m chronically apologetic. Which I’m working on.
I’m working on all of it because if Shane’s best friend had abandoned him a week into his three-month trip of a lifetime, Shane wouldn’t have clung to the handful of people he had just met. He would have struck out on his own, making friends and having spur-of-the-moment adventures along the way.
I’m so tired of being predictable, practical, timid little Ashley. That’s why I went to Australia in the first place. I was trying really hard to make bold choices and live my life with courage, the way people like Shane and Izzy and Fox did.
So I had answered Shane’s tepid proposal with a fervent, “Yes!”
Did I love Shane? Maybe not the way I had always hoped to love someone, but the soul mate mythology has been extensively tested by my sister and proven largely self-delusional. Shane is a solid guy with a real job who respects and appreciates me. I least, that’s what I’d believed at the time. He made me laugh and told me I looked pretty and made me feel needed and valued. What more could anyone want in a life partner?
What had he wanted that I don’t possess? That’s what really gnawed at me. I wasn’t super confident, but I’m not fully insecure, either. Maybe I was never an A student, but I’m a solid B plus. Same as my cup size, incidentally. And I’m a team player. I worked very hard to look out for Shane’s business, taking on its success as a personal mission.
I sniffed, realizing that fresh tears were filling my sinuses. I had been crying when I pulled off the highway while Fox slept, but that had been panic at being lost and generalized overwhelm. As soon as I talked to Shane, I kept telling myself, everything would get ironed out. All I needed to do was get to the hotel. Fox would help me get Shane on the phone and we’d persuade him to show up.
That wasn’t going to happen, though. This was real. And Fox wasn’t on my side. He didn’t want me to marry his best friend. Because he thought I’d go after their business if and when Shane and I fell apart. That hurt. A lot. Not just Fox’s lack of faith in our relationship, but his lack of faith in me . I had done a ton of things to support Togs and Boards. I redesigned their whole website. What about that?
I was so mad . At Fox and Shane and myself.
But so what? Being angry or sad or so humiliated I wanted to dig myself into a hole in the ground had never done a damn thing to change my circumstances. I had still had to get up and look at Mom over the breakfast table and face my teachers and fellow students and skeptical social workers. Life happened and you had to roll with it.
So I tried to think constructively. I had to tell my family that the wedding was off. Then what? Go back to Pine Grove and start over there?
That thought was enough to make my eyes water all over again.
I was hot and sweaty, sniveling and soggy. I didn’t even have the balled-up tissue that woman had given me earlier.
I went into the public washroom where I blew my nose and washed off my smeared make-up. Ugh. With my red nose and shadowy racoon eyes, I looked like someone had died.
Only my girlish dreams .
When I came out of the toilet, I found the path blocked by an easel that obviously belonged to the wedding van. It had a chalkboard propped on it that read: Happily Ever After is this way .
I followed the arrow with my gaze and saw Fox leaning on the red convertible, sipping his coffee. He had pulled on a plain blue shirt and left it unbuttoned. The brown strip of skin down his chest was burnished by the late morning sun. His bellybutton was hidden by a small crease as he slouched. His abs were pure muscle bisected by a fine line of hair.
Why couldn’t he be stupid and ugly and hateful? Instead, he was strong and steady and watched me approach as though he’d been keeping an eye out for me the whole time, prepared to come after me if I did something rash.
I trudged over and glared at him, aware I was punishing the wrong person, but he was here and Shane was not. Also, who asked him to be the voice of reason anyway? That was my job, thanks, and I had decided to take a vacation from that.
Vacation .
I tipped back my head and looked hopeless at the expanse of clear, intense blue sky.
“What am I supposed to do? Blow what little money I have left in Hawaii for a week? Then go back to where I came from? Go to Australia— where all my stuff is —and have no home or job there, either?” No friends even. Everyone I knew in that country was part of Shane’s circle.
Fox straightened off the car. His mouth hung crooked. “I’ll help if you come to Oz.”
“Gee, thanks, but I’ve had enough of your help.” I threw myself into the passenger seat, set my elbow on the edge of the open window, then jerked away from the burn of hot metal. I glared at the women in plum-colored dresses arriving to lead their best friend down the aisle. They were smiling and excited. Dumb cows.
Fox climbed behind the wheel, waited a beat as though expecting me to look at him.
I refused to. After a minute, he sighed and pulled away.