28. brooks
twenty-eight
brooks
. . .
Left Side of Leavin’ - Brett Young
It doesn’t take me more than fifteen seconds to toss my guitar onto the bed and pull a pair of sweats over my boxers when Jody calls me with a change of plans for the evening.
He was at Ev’s place—where I would’ve headed soon, for a night of shooting the shit with my buddies—when his brother called.
Ashton is out on the ranch somewhere with a migraine and needs help.
He and Ev leapt into Ev’s truck, with Ruth in the back, and now it’s my turn.
I lengthen my stride, closing the distance between my cabin and Ashton’s quicker than any human really ought to.
When I try the handle, the door opens easily. Of course it fucking does.
“You gotta lock your fucking door, Ash,” I mumble to the empty cabin.
Her kitchen and living room are tidy; the flowers usually on the kitchen counter gone.
It feels cold. The only obvious evidence that someone lives here is the Tri-towns harvest festival tea towel hanging off the oven door.
It’s a little stained and frayed at the edges, fifteen years old at least, but I know Ashton loves it more than any other tea towel stacked in the bottom drawer.
It feels wrong to be here without her. It feels like an intrusion, like I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be.
Especially after everything we’ve said. Everything I said.
But Ashton needs help, so I flick on her bedroom light to find a half-packed suitcase lying open on her bed, wheels carefully positioned to hang off the side.
Goddamnit.
I know her flight is booked for tomorrow night, but I don’t want her to pack.
I don’t want her to fucking leave. I want her to stay, I want to figure this out between us, somehow.
I just want, and I want and I want, and it’s selfish as fuck, and all of the noise in my head is making me dizzy.
What I want is what I can’t have, because I’m the one that fucked this up between us.
I rub a hand over my face. Emotions can wait until morning.
I zip the suitcase, careful not to disturb anything inside it, and wheel it to the corner of the room. Then I head for the bathroom.
Last time Ashton had a migraine, Ev and I found her in here.
The memory rocks me. I hadn’t expected the fear to grip me the way it did; the panic that rushed my body like a linebacker and took hold of every organ in a vise-like grip.
I grab a couple towels and fold them, stacking them on the tiled floor by the toilet, so if this migraine makes her sick like it did last time, and she has to spend time in here, she can at least try to be comfortable.
Everett found her medicine in the cabinet, so I stop there next, smiling when I see several lined-up tubes of that cupcake lip balm behind the mirrored door.
I run a finger along them absently, letting the memory of the smell and taste tug at my chest.
For fuck’s sake. I’m here for a reason. Not to get nostalgic about lip balm. I snatch the bottle of pills and shove the cabinet door closed with more force than necessary, leaving the entire fixture shaking slightly.
I grab a fresh set of bed sheets from the cupboard in the hallway and change them, then grab a clean glass from the kitchen and fill it with water.
I leave it next to the pills I found in the bathroom cabinet and a strip of regular Advil, then take the used water glass and bedsheets with me when I turn the light off.
I toss the sheets into the laundry and rinse the glass in the sink, leaving it to drain.
And then I sit.
It takes everything in me not to look around further, to try to know more about Ashton.
This is stupid. I’ve known her pretty much all our lives.
She’s as much my best friend as her brother is.
She knows everything there is to know about me, but somehow, she still manages to surprise me.
Like tonight, for example. I know she’s always been close with Jody’s brother, that they always had a bond none of us could really figure out, but I had no idea they were regular phone calls-close.
And yet, Reston was the one who was talking to her when a migraine hit and she needed help.
And as fucking selfish as it is, I just can’t help but think it should’ve been me.
I should’ve been with her, not avoiding her.
Not being avoided. Headlights slash a bright line across the window of Ashton’s darkened home and I leap to my feet.
By the time I’m at the front door, Everett is out of his truck and leaning into the back seat of the cab.
I make my way down the steps just as he emerges, his sister in his arms
The thought sobers me.
Ashton is his little sister. And Everett is my best friend.
Who the fuck was I kidding, thinking I could have it all with her and not destroy my lifelong friendship with him?
“I put fresh sheets on her bed, left her meds on her night stand. I laid some towels down in case she gotta get friendly with the bathroom floor.”
“Thanks, man,” he whispers. In the shadow of the trees, he almost disappears into the night, but for the whites of his eyes and his teeth as he speaks. “You stick around?”
“Naw,” I say. I gesture in the direction of the stables.
“I’ll go see Mayo, make sure he’s settled okay.
” This ain’t Jody’s first rodeo, he knows what he’s doing with a horse, but Mayo is a special one—he’s Ashton’s soul horse—and he doesn’t know Jody nearly as well as he knows me and Ev.
He’s almost certainly stressed after seeing Ashton in distress.
And after this evening’s excitement, I want to make sure he’s doing okay.
I owe Ash that much, at least.
“Thanks, bro. Sorry we had to cancel tonight.”
“Don’t mention it. We’ll reschedule. Some things are more important.” I turn to talk away, then turn back. “Take care of her, okay?”
“Of course.”
“She’ll be okay, Brooks,” Ruth says quietly.
She brushes a hand across my arm as I walk by her.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she knows something, but I’m pretty sure she can’t.
Everett would’ve found out, and I’d have lost my balls the minute he did.
Nonetheless, Ruth’s sympathetic smile eats at me the whole way to the stables.