Chapter 14 - Ash
Ash
I didn't understand.
Not the part about the sister-mother. I had a decent idea how that one shook out. It was the piece where Zelda dipped out of her own family and they didn't care whether the door hit her in the ass.
The Zelda I knew gathered up asshole men and carted them off to urgent care clinics, she stayed with those assholes when they were drugged and punchy, and she accompanied them to Sunday dinner after fair warning about those gatherings.
The Zelda I knew was loyal to a fault. She was smart and caring and perfect.
"I mean it," I added. "I don't know how anyone could see a mistake in you, love. They must be deeply confused."
I lifted our joined hands to kiss her knuckles because, yeah, we did that now.
Whatever that was, whatever the fuck was happening with us, I was here for it.
Even when a sizable portion of my brain drew up lists and decision trees and indexed arguments as to why this was not a good idea, not at all, I was here for it.
"Actually, yes. They were confused," she replied.
"They didn't know what to do when Deanna got pregnant.
She was fifteen. I'm told she was an otherwise exemplary child without so much as a lunch detention to her name.
But it all happened around the time Roseanne—that's my mother, or Deanna's mother—accepted a new job in Utah.
She's a college administrator, and Kevin, the father figure in all this, is a research librarian.
Apparently, it was a time of big change for everyone and they figured with the move it would be best for Deanna to have a fresh start at a new school.
And that's how it went. They just raised me as little as possible.
I spent a lot of time with babysitters." She shrugged in a stiff, defiant way that yelled I don't have to care about any of this, you can't make me.
"They should've given me away. I don't think that dawned on them until it was too late and people knew about their later-in-life oops baby.
I know it sounds harsh but I truly believe they would've offered me for adoption later on if it wouldn't have been socially complicated for them. "
I wanted to pull over, stop right here on the shoulder of the highway and drag her into my arms. Zelda was all try and care and give and, according to this disclosure, no one tried or cared or gave for her.
I wanted to drag her into my arms and I also wanted to hop on the next flight to Utah or wherever the hell her family lived now and tear into them for a solid hour.
More than any of that, I wanted to keep her. Carve out a space beside me and keep her right here, a world away from anything that could cause her pain.
Oblivious to my warring urges, Zelda continued, "I started working at summer camps when I was seventeen.
I'd gone away to camp every year since, I don't know, forever, and I always loved my camp families.
I always looked forward to going back. One year, after the end of the season, I didn't return to Roseanne and Kevin's house.
I was in my last year of college—U of U, because it didn't cost them anything to send me there—and I decided to stay with friends instead.
" She tucked her hair over her ear as she sucked in a rough breath.
"They didn't call to ask where I was for six weeks.
" She shifted, staring directly at me. "I can assure you, Ash, they're not concerned with my whereabouts. "
I pressed our joined hands to my chest because—because I had to. "I know you don't want me to say I'm sorry you went through this because you don't want anyone feeling sorry for you but I am sorry. So fucking sorry."
"It's okay."
"It really isn't, Zel. Not at all," I replied. "Do you see them around the holidays or—wait, I don't know if that's appropriate for me to ask."
"You sleep with your head between my boobs, you can ask me whatever you want. Doesn't mean I'll answer."
Her bright laughter filled the car and she rubbed her fingertips over my knuckles. Life was all right.
"As you know from your extensive review of my CV, I went to grad school in Colorado," she continued.
"I didn't make it home for most holidays but there were a few years when they asked me to visit.
Mostly for show. The year Deanna brought her boyfriend home and he proposed.
The year they were first married. Times like that. I went. I played along."
"Have you always known? Or was it a secret? About your sister-mother, I mean."
"It was supposed to be a secret but Roseanne's a heavy drinker in the way many people are heavy drinkers but since they have good jobs and nice families and don't look like your stereotypical alcoholic, everyone lets it slide.
Right on cue, you can count on her to bring it up between her third and fourth bottles of wine for the night.
I didn't understand what she was talking about until I was at least eleven, maybe twelve.
I'd known I was a mistake but that was when I realized I wasn't her mistake. It made a difference, somehow."
This time, I did pull over. I shot off the highway, down the ramp, and into a Dunkin' Donuts parking lot, stopping only long enough to engage the brake before flinging the door open and climbing out of the car.
When I reached the passenger door, Zelda asked, "Do you need coffee?
Iced tea? A strawberry glazed donut? What is it, boy? "
"Could you just come here? I'm gonna dislocate the other shoulder if I try to snatch you out of there."
"You're a lot of things, Ashville," she said as she disengaged the seat belt, "but I never took you for a guy who required an escort into a donut shop."
The moment she stepped out of my car, I scooped her into my arms as best I could. I didn't have any of the right words, any of the words she deserved, but I had this.
"Okay, so, you have really big feelings about coffee and donuts. I get it. I sympathize. Maybe not to the level of burning rubber off the highway but—"
"Would you just shut up and let me have you?"
She held herself still for a moment before softening and sliding her hands up and down my back. "You're too sweet, Ash. Sweeter than you let on. But you don't have to worry about me or my WOAT childhood. I'm okay. Really."
"What does that mean?"
"Weirdest of all time," she replied.
"Oh, well, that's handy. And I'm not worrying.
I'm—" What the hell was I supposed to tell her?
That I'd be her family and my siblings and parents could be hers too, and I'd keep her safe and loved?
No. No way in hell. Those weren't words I could speak, not today.
Not in a parking lot. Not yet. "Thirsty.
And undercaffeinated. I really do need an iced coffee. "
"Oh, honey. You are so special." She patted my back as she said this and I pressed my lips to her neck, just the way she liked.
"Don't stress over it, okay? How someone grows up is only one piece in their puzzle.
There are so many other pieces that make them into a whole person.
Mine was super weird and yours was free-range, and now you're dangerously close to giving me a hickey in an off-ramp shopping plaza parking lot which is one way of saying we came from different worlds and landed in the same place. "
"Yeah," I said to her neck. "What are the odds?"
"Are you asking me to run the probability? Because you know I can."
"I am not challenging your competence, love."
I stared at her lips because it was the closest thing to kissing her without actually doing it. Not here, not yet.
"Then let's get you caffeinated." She took my hand and led me into the shop. "That's one thing I can do without fail."
One thing we weren't was simple. No, Zelda and I were as complex as any two people with a shot glass full of history could be.
Maybe we were past complex and there was no sense trying to force us into a simpler state of being.
But I knew I couldn't kiss her right now.
It was the one line I'd drawn, the one intended to keep complex from slipping into chaos.
Because if I kissed her, I'd want to kiss her back at my place too—also known as the land of beds.
And if we fell into bed together, I didn't trust us to ever leave.
That wasn't something I could afford. It was no exaggeration.
My ass needed to be in my desk chair, turning out audit reports and churning through financial documents.
I didn't have anyone to delegate any of it to—not that I'd ever met anyone I trusted with much of anything.
The sad, boring truth was I didn't have time to keep a woman in bed with me for days on end.
What if the bed doesn't matter? What if keeping her is all that really matters?
My car was small but I'd never fully comprehended that fact until I had Zelda right there beside me.
And that skirt, my god. Who knew an ankle-length skirt had the power to ruin me?
I wanted to reach over and drag it up. Better yet, I wanted to watch her drag it up.
Tease me while I couldn't look away from the road.
And that was the thing about being around Zelda—she made me irresponsible.
She made me forget every obligation I'd ever accepted.
She helped me ignore the lines between airplane seatmates, between boss and employee, between roommates, between temporary saviors.
She pushed me to chase the things I wanted rather than the things expected of me.
She granted me permission to touch her and be close to her and be vulnerable with her, and I—I didn't know the right way to handle that.
I didn't want to do it wrong. I couldn't.
But goddamn I wanted to kiss her. To shove my fingers through her hair and take her lips the way she deserved. To twist those fingers into a fist, pin her down, claim my place between her legs.