Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Ashley
I pulled up to Ashley’s old house, a week since that night at the hospital, the tires crunching on the gravel drive.
It’d been a busy stretch, night shifts piling up, but Ashley had kept me updated, texting about her mom getting out of the hospital yesterday.
Carol had decided she didn’t want to die there, surrounded by beeping machines and sterile walls, and picked their family house instead, a cozy one-story with chipped blue paint and a porch sagging on one side.
Ashley’s car was already here, parked crooked, and I grabbed the bag of groceries Mom had insisted I bring, stepping out into the cool afternoon air.
My family was coming too, piling into Dad’s truck behind me, Jen chattering loudly as they climbed out, Mom carrying a casserole dish, Dad hauling a cooler of drinks.
Ashley had invited us all, wanting everyone together, and I liked the idea, even if it was a lot of people for a small place.
“Hey,” Ashley said, swinging the front door open before I could knock, her smile bright but tired, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. “You made it.”
“Yeah,” I said, stepping in, setting the groceries on the hall table, and pulling her into a quick hug. “Wouldn’t miss it. How’s she doing?”
“Better out here,” she said, hugging me back, her arms tight around my waist. “Hates hospitals. She’s in the living room.”
“Got it,” I said, kissing her forehead quickly, liking how she leaned into it. “Mom’s got food, Dad’s got drinks.”
“Perfect,” she said, stepping back as my family filed in, Mom bustling over with her dish, Jen trailing with a grin, Dad lugging the cooler. “Hey, everyone! Come on in!”
“Darryl!” Mom said, setting the casserole down, hugging Ashley quickly. “This place is cute. Where’s your mom?”
“Right here,” Carol’s voice called from the living room, soft but clear, and we followed Ashley in.
Carol was on the couch, a quilt over her lap, her scarf bright orange today, her face thinner but her eyes sharp.
A coffee table sat in front of her, cluttered with magazines and a half-empty mug, the room warm with old furniture and faded photos on the walls.
“Hey, Carol,” I said, giving her a nod, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Ashley as she plopped down beside her mom. “Good to see you out.”
“Good to be out,” she said, smiling up at me, patting Ashley’s knee. “Hey, Nancy, Ted, Jen. Thanks for coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Mom said, setting her dish on the table, pulling up a chair. “Brought my chicken casserole. Hope you’re hungry.”
“Always,” Carol said, laughing softly, leaning back. “Ted, what’s in that cooler?”
“Beer, soda, water,” Dad said, popping it open, setting it by the couch. “Pick your poison.”
“Soda,” she said, reaching for a can as Dad handed it over. “Thanks. Sit, everyone. This is nice.”
“Yeah,” Jen said, flopping into an armchair, kicking her legs over the side. “Cool house. Old school vibes.”
“Built it with my husband,” Carol said, sipping her soda, her smile fading a bit. “A long time ago. Wanted to be here, not that hospital.”
“Smart,” I said, resting my hand on Ashley’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Better here.”
“Way better,” Ashley said, leaning into me, her hand finding mine, lacing our fingers together. “She’s comfy now.”
“Good,” Mom said, passing out plates from a stack she’d brought, scooping casserole onto them. “Let’s eat, then talk. You need food, Carol.”
“Thanks,” Carol said, taking a plate, balancing it on her lap. “Smells great.”
We dug in, the room filling with chatter and the clink of forks, Mom asking Ashley about the wedding dress, Jen teasing me about wearing a suit.
I stayed close to Ashley, my arm around her shoulders, her leaning into me like it was nothing, her hand resting on my knee.
Carol ate slowly, picking at her food, but smiled at us, watching.
“You two are cute,” she said, setting her plate down, wiping her hands. “Reminds me of me and my Tom.”
“Yeah?” I said, grinning a bit, rubbing Ashley’s arm. “How’d you meet?”
“High school,” Carol said, her eyes lighting up. “He threw a football at my head by accident. Apologized with a milkshake. Hooked me right there.”
“Classic,” Jen said, laughing, grabbing a soda. “Darryl, have you ever thrown stuff at Ashley?”
“Nah,” I said, squeezing Ashley’s shoulder. “She’d throw it back harder.”
“True,” Ashley said, giggling, nudging me. “I’d win.”
“She would,” Carol said, chuckling. “Always been scrappy. What about you, Darryl? Kid stories?”
“Me?” I said, leaning back, keeping Ashley close. “Climbed a tree once, got stuck. Dad had to haul me down with a ladder.”
“Typical,” Dad said, shaking his head, sipping a beer. “Cried the whole way. Six years old.”
“Aw,” Ashley said, turning to grin at me. “Little Darryl crying in a tree?”
“Shut up,” I said, nudging her back, grinning. “Your turn.”
“Okay,” she said, laughing, resting her head on my shoulder. “I stole a neighbor’s cat once. Thought it was lost. Mom grounded me for a week.”
“Cat thief,” Jen said, cackling. “That’s gold.”
“She was five,” Carol said, smiling softly, her hands folding over the quilt. “Came home with it in her wagon, all proud.”
“Still proud,” I said, kissing the top of Ashley’s head quickly, liking how she smiled up at me. “Good story.”
“What about you, Jen?” Ashley said, pointing at her with a fry. “Spill.”
“Fine,” Jen said, sitting up, grinning. “Set off the smoke alarm while trying to microwave popcorn. Forgot the bag. Fire truck came and everything.”
“Chaos,” Mom said, laughing, passing Carol more casserole. “She was twelve. Nearly burned the house down.”
“Legend,” Ashley said, giggling, squeezing my hand. “Your family’s wild.”
“Says the cat burglar,” I said, grinning, pulling her closer, my arm wrapping tighter around her.
“Fair,” Carol said, laughing softly, sipping her soda. “You all fit right in.”
We kept going, trading stories, Dad telling one about me crashing my bike into the mailbox, Mom laughing about Jen dyeing her hair green by mistake.
Ashley leaned into me, her hand on my leg, her laughter mixing with mine, and Carol watched us, her smile steady even as her eyes got tired.
Plates emptied, the cooler dwindled, and the afternoon stretched into evening, the light outside fading to dusk.
“This is good,” Carol said, setting her can down, her voice quieter now. “All of you here. Feels full.”
“Yeah,” I said, rubbing Ashley’s shoulder, nodding at her mom. “Glad we came.”
“Me too,” Ashley said, resting her hand on Carol’s, squeezing lightly. “Love this.”
Carol looked at us, her eyes soft, then smiled bigger, leaning back. “You know,” she said, her voice steady but low, “I’ll be happy to die now. Seeing this, I know my girl’s taken care of.”
“Mom,” Ashley said, her voice catching, her grip tightening on my hand. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true,” Carol said, patting her hand, her smile warm. “You’ve got Darryl, his family. I’m good. Happy.”
“You’re not going anywhere yet,” I said, leaning forward, keeping my tone light. “Wedding’s in a week. You’re stuck with us.”
“Stuck,” she said, laughing softly, nodding. “I’ll hold on for that. Promise.”
“Good,” Ashley said, her voice shaky, leaning into me more, her head on my chest. “You better.”
“Deal,” Carol said, reaching for her mug, taking a sip. “Tell me more stories. Keep me laughing.”
“Alright,” Dad said, cracking another beer. “Darryl once ate a whole pie at Thanksgiving. Puked it up an hour later.”
“Gross,” Jen said, cackling, and Ashley laughed, her body shaking against mine.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said, grinning, kissing Ashley’s temple quickly. “Real nice.”
“Love that,” Carol said, chuckling, settling back as we kept talking, the room warm and full, stories bouncing around. We stayed late, the night creeping in, until Carol’s yawns got longer, and Mom started packing up. “We’ll head out,” she said, hugging Carol gently. “Rest up.”
“Thanks, Nancy,” Carol said, hugging her back, then Jen, then Dad. “See you soon.”
“Yeah,” I said, standing, pulling Ashley up with me, my arm around her. “Night, Carol.”
“Night,” she said, waving as we filed out, Ashley’s hand in mine, her steps slow. The drive back was quiet, my family in their truck, Ashley and I in my car, her head against the window, smiling softly. It’d been good, all of us together, and Carol’s words stuck with me, her peace settling in.