31. Ajay
ajay
. . .
A sking Whiskey to marry me again was always part of the plan, but doing it today was not. However, I couldn’t think of any other way to show or tell Evelyn that I’m madly in love with her mother. I have no doubt there’s some confusion going on in her mind with the fact that Logan is suddenly not around while I am, and that’s the last thing I want.
What I do want, though, is to be a family with these two beautiful girls and to do that I have to be a man, which means I need to talk to Whiskey’s father — not an easy feat since we don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things when it comes to his daughter. But he’s important to Whiskey and Evelyn and without his support, Whiskey and I can’t have a happy marriage. I know that’s what she wants… what her parents have… and I want to give it to her.
That’s how I find myself back in Bailey. Not that I wouldn’t come back just to see Whiskey and Evelyn, but while I’m here, I’m going to do what I should’ve done years ago.
My rental car idles in the driveway of the Foster’s home while I build up the courage I need to confront the Sheriff. I’m afraid that if I sit here to long, he’ll come out with his shotgun and actually use it this time. He already tried to kill me once when he came home from work early and caught Whiskey and me in bed together. There was no way either of us could play it off as just talking, although she was saying my name. Her daddy, fully aware of what was going on, was beyond pissed and chased my bare ass down the road while trying to load his shotgun. I deserved it. I could stay in their home a few days a week if I kept my hands to myself, but there was no way I could do that. Not with the way Whiskey was turning into a woman. She had my hormones going crazy and all it took was one little shake of her ass, along with the come hither look she had developed, for me to drop my jeans and break every rule her parents set for us. Instead of apologizing for disrespecting them, I married their daughter, thinking I had beat her dad at the game. Boy was I wrong.
My legs shake as I climb the steps that lead to the wide covered porch. I can barely hear the ocean that Whiskey told me is behind the house, which they built a few years ago in preparation of Sheriff Foster retiring, over my rapidly beating heart. It’s hard to imagine he would be the type to sit around day after day, but maybe after so many years at the same job, he’s looking forward to it.
The front door is open; I can hear sound coming from the television and dishes clanking in the kitchen. No one knows I’m coming here, not even Whiskey. In fact, she doesn’t even know I’m in town. She thinks I’m arriving tomorrow but I needed a day to make amends and put a plan in motion. I knock my knuckles against the wooden screen door and step back, waiting for someone to come to the door and silently praying for it to be Mrs. Foster.
The sound of footsteps has me looking through the mesh screen. Mrs. Foster is coming toward me, drying her hands with a towel. She pushes the door open slightly and smiles. “Well hello, Ajay. It’s been a long time.”
I tilt my head in shame and swallow the lump in my throat. “Yes, ma’am.” My hands begin to fidget as I search for my words. I stuff them into my pockets to try and keep them still. “I’m wondering if I can have a few moments of Sheriff Foster’s time and maybe some of yours as well?”
She smiles, nods, and pushes the door open so I can follow her in. “James, we have a guest.”
I step in and let the screen door shut against my hand to keep it from slamming. The hall is filled with pictures of Whiskey and Evelyn — each one makes me stop and long for the life we could’ve had even though I know it would’ve been nothing like what I can give them now. Maybe if I had stayed, Evelyn would’ve been mine and not some piece of shit loser’s who wants nothing to do with her.
“She’s beautiful.”
“They both are,” I say in response. “I made a mistake the day I left her.”
“She’ll forgive you, Ajay,” Mrs. Foster rests her hand on my arm. She motions toward the living room and gives me a wink. “His bark is worse than his bite, but be warned, he loves those girls more than his own life.” She walks back toward the kitchen, leaving those words hanging in the air.
Stepping into the living room, I clear my throat. “Sheriff, may I speak with you?”
James Foster doesn’t take his eyes off the television. He does, however, point the remote at it and change the channel to a hunting show. I continue to stand there, rocking back and forth on my heels. I clear my throat again, but he keeps his attention on his show.
“Sheriff Foster, I am hoping to speak to you about Whis… Jamie. I know I’m the last person you want to see standing here and I accept that, but I’m here to ask for your forgiveness. I was nothing more than a na?ve boy who just wanted to be loved and Jamie gave me that. There’s no excuse for what I’ve done… I disregarded your rules and hurt you and Mrs. Foster by whisking your only daughter off and marrying her without her family there. Then, after all of that, I left her. She was right to ask for a divorce, to move on with her life. I didn’t deserve her.”
“And you think you do now?” he pushes his recliner into a sitting position, turns off the television and stands. “Follow me,” he says gruffly. I do as he says, nodding to Mrs. Foster as we walk through the kitchen. He walks to the edge of their property and stops. I do the same and look out over the small ledge. There’s a staircase leading to the beach, with chairs set up around a small table. The view from here is breathtaking and retirement worthy.
“Evelyn loves the beach. She looks forward to building sand castles every spring. She can’t swim yet though so if she goes in the water, someone must be with her always. Jamie,” he pauses and continues to look out over the water, “she will sit down there for hours and read a book and when she’s done, she’ll walk the beach. Her mother tells me she’s looking for love, for her fairytale. Personally, I don’t believe in that crap. Do you want to know why?”
“Yes, sir.”
He turns and looks at me. “Because she already found it. She found it at eight or ten, whenever it was that she met you. I always thought she would grow out of her infatuation with you, but she never did. You, on the other hand…”
“I needed to grow up. I needed to be able to provide for her.”
“And you can do that now?”
“Yes, sir. I can.”
“And Evelyn?”
“I love her. I want to be her dad, raise her as my own. I want to build sand castles with her, teach her how to swim, ride a bike, and walk her to school. I want to be there when she loses this next tooth and have her run up to me to tell me about her day.”
“She’s not yours, Ballard.”
“Ever since I met her, I wish that she were. I regret ever leaving and want to make it up to Whiskey. I want to make things right.”
He laughs. “I’ve never understood why you insist on calling her that, but I accidentally did it one night. I was comforting her and said it, boy did she let me have it.”
“Sir, I would also like to ask for your permission to marry Jamie. I know I’m years late and we’re already married, but your permission is important to me… and I know Whiskey would love your blessing.”
Foster stands there, not saying anything. With my luck, he’s probably going to tell me no. He’s been waiting for the day when he could tell me off.
He inhales deeply and gathers himself. “You’re taking my girls away from me.”
I sigh in return. I tell him about my house and the neighborhood, and how Evelyn has a playmate in Chandler. “Whiskey doesn’t have to work unless she wants to and when Evelyn isn’t in school, they can come here whenever they want. Or you and Mrs. Foster could visit, maybe even retire out there.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve never been out that way.”
“It’s much like here, just a bit cooler and not so humid.”
“I have half the mind to tell you to pound sand and to forget about Jamie and Evelyn, but I know that’s not what my daughter wants. Tell me, does she know you’re here?”
“No, sir. There are a few things I need to take care of before I see her and Evelyn, but I plan to tell her. I don’t want to keep secrets from her. I love her too much.”
The sound of a door opening and closing has us turning around. Mrs. Foster is walking toward us with her arms crossed over her chest. “Dinner is ready. Are you joining us, Ajay?”
I look from her to the Sheriff who nods slightly. “It’d be my pleasure.”
She smiles and tells us not to be long. Once she’s out of ear shot, Mr. Foster speaks, “if I were to tell you no, that I don’t forgive you or that I don’t want Jamie to take Evelyn away, I’d lose my daughter. She loves you and only she knows why. It pains me to know my girls are leaving, that they’ll be three thousand miles away.”
“It’s more like two thousand six hundred but who’s counting?” I shrug, realizing I should probably keep my comments to a minimum.
Foster smirks and shakes his head. “Some things never change.”
“A couple of things have, sir. I’m more responsible, I’m better off financially, and I’ve grown up a lot. I’m also more in love with Whiskey than I ever have been. This ninety-day sentence was a blessing in disguise. If it weren’t for Harvey being a tool, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. I should thank him, but Whiskey would have my balls.”
Her father laughs and places his hand on my shoulder. “All I ask is that you don’t hurt either of them and when you and Jamie have your own child, you don’t forget about Evelyn.”
“Never… I plan to adopt her. She’s going to know what it’s like to have a father and mother, something I’ve never known. And more importantly, when someone asks where her dad is, she can tell them instead of saying she doesn’t know. Believe me, it’s the worst feeling in the world when someone asks if my parents are proud of me or if they’ll be at a show. I don’t want Evelyn to ever experience that feeling again.”
James Foster, the man who arrested me months ago, pulls me into his arms and squeezes me tightly. When he releases me, he steps away. “We best get inside, or the missus will have our heads for letting our food get cold.”
“Does this mean you forgive me?” I hedge.
“Hell no, it just means I’m giving you a second chance. And you better not screw it up this time, son,” he slaps the back of my shoulder and laughs as he walks toward the house.
It’s a start. That’s what I tell myself.