Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Josie doesn’t make me talk about it. For two days she lets me be quiet. She hands me coffee. She asks if I ate. She doesn’t ask about my father, and I love her for that. We watch TV, I hold her while she reads, and she rubs my back when something triggers me and I’m close to losing it.
Paige is the same. She cut the feed after I said my father’s name, knowing that no one needed to see my visceral reaction to the silence that played out. He couldn’t even acknowledge that it was him on the other line or accept the fact that he’s not as subtle as he thinks.
The calls stopped after that one, thanks to Bex.
She shut down, ended the show, and asked Paige to make sure I got home okay.
Even Bex knew without knowing the full story knew I needed a break.
Thankfully, she canceled the next two shows, said she’d air re-runs from our first week, and told me to take as much time as needed.
Paige did the best thing she knew how to do, she called her mom.
My wife . . . my Jojo . . . the woman I knew was worth more than any relationship with my father came running. We sat there in my studio, staring at nothing, with her arms wrapped around me. She never told me things would be okay. Deep down, I knew they wouldn’t.
This man . . . this father of mine . . . the last time I saw him he had accosted Peyton in the grocery store. He was mean, belligerent, and didn’t deserve my time then.
He still doesn’t.
Yet, he’s occupying my thoughts, and I don’t want him there.
My mother called the morning after. She heard the segment, the same as everyone else. She didn’t say much. What was there to say? I opened myself up to this by agreeing to the radio show. I knew the consequences going in.
Is the show worth the knife in my chest?
Today’s answer is yes. Bex and I, along with Paige, have built something fun, amazing, and I enjoy talking to people.
Is my advice the best? Probably not but if you’re calling into a radio program to talk to a musician about whether or not you should take the trash out without your wife having to ask or make a chore chart, you need more help than what I can offer.
In the beginning, the answer would’ve been no. I would’ve never expected in a million years that my estranged father would reach out this way. Honestly, if anything, I would expect him to knock on my door or walk into Whimsicality and insult my wife.
Today I’m back at Ralph’s, the same as I’ve been most of the last two days. With Noah in charge, I’m the silent partner who wants to play bartender every now and again. Ralph’s has a more than capable staff though, so mostly I’m in the way, unless someone wants the day off.
I sit at the end of the bar, next to Mason’s chair.
What sucks is, I can’t escape who I am here.
I did that when I was eighteen, and what a relief it was to be out from under Sterling’s thumb.
In Beaumont, everyone knows about my father, and how he treated me.
He didn’t hold back if I had a bad game that still resulted in a win.
If I didn’t play well I was the embarrassment.
And now everyone gets to relive the past with me.
What I hadn’t expected from all of this was Nick. I don’t know if it was Noah who called him or if Nick did this all on his own, but for the past two days, he’s been at Ralph’s when I’m there.
The first day he came in, I figured it was because Noah was behind the bar.
The next day, I knew it was because of me.
He’s trying to be the friend I need because he knows I would’ve turned to Mason, if things were different.
It would make sense for me to turn to Harrison, but I can’t bother him with this stuff.
And JD would give me some crass response because he has his own daddy issues.
Come to think of it, 4225 West is a mess of daddy issues. We’ve all got them.
Totally chose the wrong band name.
Nick is as close as I’m going to get to having a real friend around here, even though he’s my frenemy.
When he sits, he doesn’t say a word about my father.
He talks about the ice machine making some strange noise, to which Noah tells him that the repair person is on his way.
Nick tells me the boosters stuck him on the setup crew for their next fundraiser, which makes me laugh because Josie probably did that and knew Nick would show up even though he really doesn’t have time for it.
Then, much to my surprise, he brings up Teagan.
“Lowery ran me ragged over my annoyance with setting up,” he says. “I’m a doctor. I have office hours, rounds at the hospital, a football team to run, and my complaint is valid. I don’t have the time to work setup. Take down is much easier.”
I can’t tell if he’s upset about his PTA responsibilities or the fact that Teagan, the woman he sees every day, and just spent a full minute talking about, didn’t side with him when he questioned his assigned duties.
“You’re worked up,” I say, “over a woman you see every day.”
“She’s impossible.”
Nick looks at me with his mouth gasping for air because he knows he’s been caught red-handed. He drinks his beer and doesn’t answer, which to me screams loud and clear, Nick has a crush.
“When you see her next time, don’t lead with football or with anything about the fundraiser,” I tell him. “Ask her how the fuck she is and when she starts talking about work, gently interrupt her and say, ‘I’m asking you, Teagan. Not Ms. Lowery.’”
“Why would I do that.”
“Because you’re lonely and I may puke after saying this, but you’re family.
My wife and son worry about you . . .” I look at Noah who nods.
“The shit Aubrey did, you gotta move on. I get the whole, I’m going to be single for my kids, but your kids don’t want that.
They want to see their dad happy. I see the way you look at Teagan, the way she gravitates toward you.
She won’t make the first move because she’s your boss, so you need to do it. ”
He calls me an ass and finishes his beer. But he doesn’t say no.
He stares into what’s left of his beer for a long minute, and then he asks me how.
It’s just the one word, so quiet I almost miss it over the game on the TV.
This is a man who has told parents their kid needs surgery without his voice catching once, and he can’t get the rest of the sentence out of his mouth.
I make him ask me anyway because this is Nick Ashford and I’m not giving him anything for free.
“How do I talk to her without it turning into things about work?”
“Let’s practice. Pretend I’m Teagan.”
His eyes widen and he does that gasping for air thing again with his mouth. “Wh-what?”
“You heard me.” I stand and pull his knees around so he’s facing me. I try not to look at Noah because he’s smirking and if I stare at him, I’m going to lose it.
“I’m Teagan, let’s go,” I tell him.
“Um . . .” He looks over his shoulder at Noah, who thankfully has his back turned and is doing inventory. Nick clears his throat. “Hello. You’re looking well.”
I cover my face with my hand and shake my head. How did this dude end up with Josie all those years ago? Did she have to do all the heavy lifting?
No, I don’t want to think about my girl being the one to flirt with Nick.
Nope.
“That’s something you say to one of your patients. This is a woman that you want to get to know, a woman that you want to . . .”
“Don’t say it, Westbury.”
I eye him. “Fuck? Bang? Make looooove to?”
Nick blushes. “You’re so crass.”
“You’re blushing. Is it because you have a crush on me?”
He shakes his head. I reach out and touch his knee. “It’s okay if you do.”
Nick bats my hand away and I can’t stop laughing. “All right. I’ll stop but come on. You can’t talk to her like that.”
I sit down next to him. “Tell me something about her.”
“Okay, uh . . . her hair is a normal length.”
Another face palm. “Are you filling out a police report, Ashford?”
He goes quiet then, and when he finally talks, he doesn’t look at me. “She hums when she’s reading and she doesn’t know or think anyone is near her.”
“See, you are paying attention to her. What else?”
“Her hair. That’s why I said what I did.
When she wears it down, she twirls a strand between her fingers when she’s concentrating.
And she volunteers to read to the children at the hospital on the weekends.
No one knows but me. I’ll watch her sometimes.
She doesn’t shy away from the kids that are sick and when she’s there, their parents get a break for an hour.
I don’t know if she knows this but that means a lot to them. ”
“How come you haven’t talked to her at the hospital?”
“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want to mix work and pleasure.”
“We live in a small town. You either mix or you date in another town. And you’re too busy to date anyone from anywhere else.”
“I know.” He sighs. “Okay, so what do I do?”
“Compliments. All the time,” I tell him. “Tell her how nice it is to see her. Smile. Do whatever magic you used when you started dating my wife.”
“She wasn’t your wife,” he says sternly.
“Semantics.” I brush his comment away. “You need to sell yourself. Nick Ashford, single dad, doctor, football coach . . .”
“Chicks dig a coach,” Noah says as he sets fresh pints down. Nick and I both glare at him and he turns away.
“Dating used to be easy.”
“Life used to be easy,” I say.
Nick tears apart the napkin he has, shredding it into little pieces. “Fine, the next time I see her, I say what?”
“Compliment,” I remind him.
He sighs and clears his throat. “I noticed you hum when you read. You don’t know that you do it. I like it though.”
For the next hour, we practice different lines, things he can say to show he’s interested, and how he can talk to her without coming across as a parent whining about a duty he’s been assigned.
“It’s all about batting those eyelashes and making her think you’re irresistible.”
“Uh, huh, sure,” he says as he drinks from his pint glass.
That night I go back on the air.
“You’re on The Love Line.”