Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
RUSTY
A fter dinner, I should be spent from the early morning and the hours of manual labor, but I'm energized, as I always am with Ash.
We both have work tomorrow — the chamber of commerce is meeting again Friday, so we have a few days to release more videos and lock down their votes — and we probably need the rest.
"I should get you home," I say.
"You know, I could go for ice cream," she says.
"Ice cream sounds good."
Every restaurant and food truck in town is packed, so we leave Sugar Maple and go to my favorite place in Mullet Ridge, Mudcakes. I get the door for Ash, and she loops her arms around mine, hugging it close.
"I love how you do that," I say.
"What, hug your arm like a sloth hugging a tree?"
"Yeah, that."
I feel the apple of her cheek rise against my shoulder.
Inside, Mudcakes is brimming with teens and couples. It's a fun place that leans into Mullet Ridge's unique charm, if you can call a place with the word "mullet" in it charming. Their flavors play on the town's blue collar origins with names like "pothole pecan" and "terra-misu."
"He'll have two scoops of compost crunch in a waffle cone," Ash says. "With rainbow sprinkles and gummy worms on top."
Her giddy laughter puts a smile on my face. "And she'll have a sugar cone with one scoop of 'silted caramel' and one of 'apple of my pie' with caramel drizzle."
"You know me so well," she says, giving me a quick peck on the cheek.
My hand squeezes her hip, and it takes every ounce of restraint for me not to grab her by the waist, lift her onto this counter, and kiss her until we melt all the ice cream in the place.
Soon, we're sitting across a table for two, smiling at each other. I hold my ice cream out to her, and she eats every nasty gummy worm off the top for me. I don't like gummy candies under the best of circumstances. Them being hard from the cold is not the best of circumstances.
Bet they taste good on Ash's mouth, though. As she eats another gummy worm, her nose dips into the scoop.
"What?" she asks.
"You have a dab of ice cream on your nose."
She crosses her eyes to look at her nose. I put my hand on the back of her head and tug her close. Then I kiss the ice cream off her cute little nose.
I don't get it all, so when I sit back down, I swipe my thumb across the rest.
She fans herself. "How do you make kissing ice cream off my nose so hot ?"
"I really like ice cream."
Her laugh stirs up a tornado in my belly .
"We're made for each other," she says, taking a big bite of her ice cream.
Yes we are.
"You know, the first time I ever came here was with Tag Carville. He drove me home from a … doctor's appointment and took me here," I say.
"Why was he taking you to the doctor?"
My shoulders tense, and I wish I could take back my words. "Not important," I say, although that's far from the truth. "He ordered me one of every single scoop in the shop and let me eat myself sick."
"That's adorable," she says. She plays with my hand in the middle of the table, but she looks like she's biting back a million questions. "Which was your favorite?"
"Oddly enough, not 'earthworm explosion.'"
She laughs again. "Oh, stop. You love it. You're a gummy fanatic at heart."
I take a few more licks of my cone. She's so much more fearless than I am, even eating an ice cream cone. I lick in a perfect order, making sure nothing spills down the sides of the cone. She bites with her whole mouth, letting melted ice cream drip down her pinky. She just licks it off.
Then she looks at me with an earnestness at odds with the final gummy worm she's nabbed from my cone.
"I'm sorry you were at the doctor."
"I had a broken jaw," I blurt. I drop my gaze to our clasped hands. "I was suckin' food through a straw for six weeks. He tried to take me to get a burger first, but it was a little too hard to chew after so many weeks, and my jaw got tired. So he took me here."
"Rusty — "
"I don't know what I would have done without Tag. He's the one who put me in a hockey league with guys years older than me. I was madder than a hornet most of the time. I was so scared and afraid and angry. He thought the safest thing for me would be to compete against guys bigger, stronger, and faster than me. He thought it would help if I could channel my fear and aggression into healthy competition."
"No one should have made you feel that afraid," she whispers. " No one. "
Ash's lip curls up when she says this, and I'm struck by the fact that I've never seen this look before. I've never seen her filled with … hurt. With indignation.
For me .
She stands and moves her chair right next to mine. Then she wiggles underneath my arm, takes a bite of my ice cream, and then continues eating hers.
"I'm sorry you had Arlo. I'm so sorry," she says. "But I'm glad you had Tag."
A drip of ice cream melts down my cone, and Ash licks it off before it can reach my hand.
"I'm sorry you had Frank, but I'm glad you have Greg."
Ash pauses. "I've always wondered why Greg didn't legally adopt me. My mom didn't legally adopt my brothers because their mom passed away and she never wanted to replace her. But Frank sucks . I wanted Greg to replace him. Sometimes I worry he's relieved he's not my real dad."
I hold Ash tight. So this is why she looked pained when I called her parents Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. She’s not a Jackson, at least not legally. Does she not know how much Greg adores her?
"I think Greg loves you as much as any dad could love a daughter. His eyes light up the second your face comes on the screen. He FaceTimes you at least once a week because he misses seeing you so much. I bet it would break his heart if he knew how you feel."
She sounds choked. "I wish. "
I rest my head against hers. "Have you ever asked them about it?"
"No. I'm afraid of the answer."
"I get that. But I think you should."
She looks up at me. "Why are you so sure this would work out in my favor?"
"Because Greg called me a few days ago and threatened to pull me apart like string cheese if I hurt his baby girl."
"What?" She laughs. " Greg ? My Greg? He always jokes that the only reason he attracted his first wife was because she had a crush on Steve Urkel."
"I don't know what to tell you," I say, "except Greg loves you."
"I can't get past the idea of my nerdy stepdad calling my strapping Farm Boy and threatening him … especially the string cheese part," she says. "Greg is lactose intolerant!"
I chuckle.
"Wh-what did you say?" she asks. "When he called. What did you say?"
That conversation will stay fresh in my mind until the day I die. "You'll have to ask Greg."
We finish our ice cream, occasionally taking bites from each other’s cones, like a real couple. Like us. My heart throbs with hope that a night like tonight could become a tradition, not just a memory.
After her last bite is done, I stifle a yawn, but she catches it. She stands and holds a hand out to me.
"You should get some sleep. Come on."
It's been a tiring week and an emotional few days. If Ash were coming home with me, her presence would keep my battery charged better than a full night's sleep. But knowing that I'm dropping her off at home, my exhaustion has caught up with me. Which is why it's so unfortunate that, of all the times to run into my parents, it has to be now .
"Rusty!" my mom calls when she sees us in the parking lot. "Ashley!"
Ash grabs my hand, pulling me to a stop. She turns around fully, but I keep my feet angled toward my truck. When my parents catch up with us, I want to send a crystal clear message that I'm not sticking around to chat.
"Hi, Mrs. Fielding," Ash says, giving my mom a hug. My mom adores Ash, although they've only met a few times. Arlo has managed to be pleasant enough that I think Ash thought well of him.
She sure doesn't anymore. When my dad meets up with us, Ash's warmth freezes over. "Hi, Mr. Fielding."
Arlo shakes her hand. She leans against me, and I drape my arm over her shoulders protectively.
Arlo hasn't tried anything with me in over ten years, not since he started court-ordered AA. I have no idea if he was ever physical with my mom. I don’t think he was with Shelby. But I know he was never physical with anyone else in the house if I was around.
I made sure of it.
I don’t work directly with him. We have layers of reporting that ensure I don’t even have to see him. In fact, I haven’t seen him more than two or three times in the last year, and each time, it’s in passing.
I'm glad Arlo is sober, but that mean glint in his eye has permanent residence there, and it will never stop having an effect on me.
Worse, though, is the effect it's having on Ash. She's practically clinging to me.
"Are you two out on a little date?" Mom asks.
"We are," I say. "What are y'all doing at Mudcakes?"
"Oh, your father promised me ice cream tonight after the Double H game," Mom says.
"I didn't realize you guys went to the games. "
"We don't miss many," Arlo says. He gives me an alligator grin worthy of the predator he is. “The game against the Badgers the other night was my favorite in a long time.”
My stomach churns. I was provoked when I punched Philip, but I still punched him. I still knocked him on his butt every chance I got. And I liked it.
Arlo saw it all?
It felt justified at the time. Now, I’m not so sure.
"Heard you haven’t been at the farm all week. Where you been?" Arlo presses.
"I'm taking a break for a couple of weeks to work on a different project."
Arlo startles. Is that the years of alcoholism messing up his nervous system, or is he really that shocked? "You can't take a break during fruit season. It's our busiest time!"
My knuckles burn. "That's why I hired help. I have two guys filling in for me at the farm and another? — "
"So you're paying three people to do your job? You're throwing away money so you can play fancy businessman?"
"Why do you care, anyhow? It ain't yours," I say.
"I care because I taught you better than that."
" You ? What did you teach me, Arlo?"
"Show your father some respect," Mom says.
"I clearly didn't teach you enough, boy." Arlo adjusts his waistband in a way that highlights his belt.
The blood rushing in my ears makes it hard for me to hear. My breath saws between my teeth. All of my fear and rage resurface from a graveyard of memories I thought I’d moved past long ago.
I hate him. I want to end him.
"Arlo, don't," Mom says, grabbing his arm the way she did when I was growing up.
"It's fine," Arlo says, shrugging off her arm forcefully enough that I’m on high alert. "I shouldn't be surprised he'd make such a stupid decision."
"Watch it, Arlo," I say, the words coming out in a growl.
"Why, you gonna take a swing at me again? I ain’t drunk this time, boy. Want to settle this once and for all?"
Ash lets go of me, and panic stabs my gut. I forgot she was here. For an instant, I think she's going to run. But to my shock, she stomps the six feet between us, plants her hands on his chest, and shoves with all her might.
"How dare you?" she cries and pushes him again. "HOW DARE YOU?"
Arlo backs up, snickering at Ash like she's unhinged, but she keeps pushing him until I get between them. I step in front of her with my arm out, but she screams and points at him around me.
"You stay away from him, you pathetic piece of crap! If you ever taunt him again, I will destroy you. You wouldn't even have a job if it weren't for him! Do you think the whole town doesn't know he's your boss? Do you actually think he's the small one everyone whispers about in disgusted tones? You would have nothing without him! He has every reason to beat your face into pulp, yet he stands here and lets you belittle him because he is good . He is kind and selfless and good . Unlike you."
That vicious glint in Arlo's eye sparks into a wildfire. "Oh, you think he's so good, do you? Sweet Rusty would never hurt a fly, would he? Ask him what happened the day of his sister's funeral." He leans forward. "And then we'll see how good you think he really is."
"Get out of my face," she growls.
Mom is crying and pulling on Arlo's arm, trying to say Ash doesn't understand, and Ash turns on her. "I don’t know how hard you've had it all these years, but he is your son, and the fact that you're taking Arlo's side over Rusty's breaks my heart for you. I'm sorry you've been so beat down that every maternal instinct in you has revolted. But you two are toxic , and I will not let you poison the man I love. Stay. Away."
She pulls my arm, her face shining with righteous fury that almost hurts my eyes. "Let's go. We're done here."
Arlo laughs at our backs as we climb into the truck. "I'm your future, boy. I couldn't escape being just like my daddy, and neither can you. Don't you forget it!"
Ash tells him exactly where to shove his reminder, and then we go.
I should keep my eyes on the road, but I look back at them in the rearview mirror as we drive. And I hate myself for it.