Chapter Fifteen : Her Numbers
“Crazy, huh?”
“Hmm?” Absently mumbles from my only partially curious lips, as I squint out over the rolling lawn of Lincoln Park. Not really listening to Aiden at all. Instead, letting blades of grass twirl between my sweaty fingers, staring out toward the blinding water of the pond. Needing to turn away from the bright reflection, feeling it burn my eyes, but I don’t look away. I can’t. I’m incapable of pulling my attention away from the petite figure standing before the gleaming body of water.
“You know, Glen getting married. It’s crazy, right? I never thought we’d see the day.” Aiden keeps talking about things I don't care to discus -- because I don't think I can -- and my eyes flick down to my lap.
“Oh yeah, right.” My fiingers pull a wind swept curl behind my ear, hoping it can distract from the feelings of distraught and dread flooding through my heart, "Crazy.”
Without realizing it, I return to the pond. Brazenly and boldly looking straight at her. And even as Aiden laughs, I don’t break my gaze. No, I just keep on looking.
Because Aiden’s been laughing for a while now. He’s been laughing like this since last weeks train wreck of an engagement party. A train wreck solely because it was for Ashley and Glen.
Therefore, it was a train wreck for only me. However, to be honest, I don’t really have a right to moan about how bad the party was. I have no right to complain about something I barely remember. Pathetically, all I remember is my bubbly champagne glass.
And I’m still trying to decide if that’s a blessing or a curse.
“Yup.”
Aiden keeps laughing in a way that makes my arms go a little numb. That makes my heart thump a little harder inside my chest. Because Aiden's mindless chuckling isn’t so mindless these days. No, everything about Aiden sounds more knowing with every passing day.
And I just keep on looking.
“You should go talk to her.”
I don’t even try to act like I don’t know he knows I’m watching. I don’t even pretend to not care about Ashley anymore. Because I obviously care. I obviously care so much and it’s pointless to act like I don’t. It’s tiring. It’s so tiring. And it’s too hard to act like I’m not tired. Especially when those alarming chuckles putter out of Aidens lips.
Especially when Aiden makes me feel like watching is ok.
“I don’t know. She’s been weird this past week.”
And it’s the truth, she has been. Closed off and sad, she basically shuffles through her days. Just barely going through the motions. I’ve never seen her quite like this. And I can’t help but feel like I’m to blame. I can’t help but feel like something terrible happened at that party, after my 30th glass of champagne.
Because everything feels changed.
Because Ashley feels different.
Because right now, isolated and introverted, Ashley stands by a pond alone, while I sit beneath a shady oak tree right behind her. Staring at her like she were a million miles away.
“Exactly why you should go talk to her.”
Aiden persists and I don’t even put up a fight. Because, really, Aiden doesn’t know anything. Aiden is as clueless as he’s ever been. And I’m still as paranoid. I’m so paranoid that it’s all in my head.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
“Fine.” Using my trusty humor deflections, I grunt and stand with a manufactured huff, “If you’re gonna twist my arm about it, I’ll go talk to her. Man, you’re so needy, Dennison.”
“Yeah. Ok. I’m needy” With a warm smile he rolls his eyes, and as I walk away, I hear him still shouting behind me. "We both know you’re the needy one!”
Nodding my head, graciously, with a light chuckle, I smile softly. Thankful for Aiden. Thankful for his cluelessness that I have to keep reminding myself of.
But the further I walk away from him and the closer I come to entering Ashley zone, the smile deflates. My hands ball into clenching fists.
She’s so distant that even as I stand behind her, smelling her strawberry shampoo, I still feel like she’s not even there. Facing the glimmering water, with arms crossed, her feet scuff away at the grass. As if she just doesn’t know what to do with herself. As if she’s so hopelessly lost.
And maybe she is.
And maybe that’s what has me so scared.
That’s what has me taking a deep breath, hoping I can find her. Hoping I can bring her back home, back to me.
“Whaddya say?” One gentle nudge to the back of her shoulder with the front of mine, I nod toward the swampy waters, "Wanna take a swim and test the water? I hear it’s really warm this time of year.”
It makes her laugh lightly, and I feel it lightly shine inside my heart.
“Sure.” Her eyes squint out over the water where flying creatures buzz about everywhere, "You first.”
“I always knew you were a smart one, Davies.”
I smile at her, but it falls short. It feels pointless, because this time she laughs in a way that isn’t so light. This laughter is nothing but pitiful.
And it keeps ringing in my ear, so loud, that I keep trying. I keep looking.
“So whatcha doin over here, PB?”
Using a gentle voice, as if I were talking to a wounded child, I lean closer to her. But she only shrugs.
“Just taking in the view.”
She’s not even hiding the fact she’s hiding something. And I’m adding even more layers to my humor suit.
“Well see, there’s your problem. You’re facing the wrong way. Aiden and I are behind you.”
She barely laughs and I’m not quite sure what to do. Usually it takes only one joke to get her to open up. Usually it takes nothing for her to give me everything.
So I keep trying.
“Come on Peanut, why are you over here when we’ve got macaroni salad from The Market back there?” Pointing behind us, I laugh sincerely, "It's your favorite, I got it just for you. But Aiden's unsupervised over there, and you know if we leave him too long, he’ll eat it all up. He’ll eat everything, and then my kind gesture will just become a waste.”
I giggle in a way to relieve the tension. But it relieves nothing. It only adds to it because she only looks more sad. She only whispers, “It’s not a waste, thank you, Spence.” So warmly. So appreciatively. And then she sighs like she knows just what I’m doing. And it makes me want to hug her more than anything.
So I reach for her. I reach to pull her back from pulling away, gently wrapping my fingers around her arm.
“What’s up, Ash? I know something’s upsetting you, is it...” I take a deep breath, not wanting to make this about me, but missing hours from that train wreck of a night are nagging, ripping and tearing my mind, "Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”
Her eyes find mine in a flash, and for the first time in a week, I finally see Ashley. I see her as I’ve always known her and I know without a doubt this has nothing to do with me. And while I thought that’d make me feel better, it only makes me feel worse.
Because if I didn’t cause this, how can I fix it? How can I make her better?
“Of course not.”
Her reply is genuine and honest, and for one moment she looks ok. For one moment she seems relieved because she’s made me feel better. And like the wind picking up, she’s sad again. She’s turned around, drifting over that pond.
Drifting so far away from me.
And I keep reaching.
“Then what is it? I mean, you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. I just want to help, because if you’re suffering…” I bite my lip, squinting toward the trees lining the edge of the water, "Then Jelly’s suffering too.”
“I know.” She whispers it instantly, so softly, but it touches me so unbelievably much. Her sincerity pierces through me with just two words.
And then she sucks in a deep breath. She sucks in all her troubles, ready to release them when she exhales. Ready to give them to me. Ready to let me help.
Slowly drawing her arm between us, she slides up the sleeve of her thin shirt. Displaying the inside of her wrist, where her tattoo lives.
I’ve seen it countless times. I’ve watched her absently trace it every day. Seven simple black numbers etched into her tan skin. But I know they’re not simple. I’ve never asked what they stand for, those numbers 092505. Something about it felt too private. Too personal. Something told me it was not a matter of asking, but a matter of her being ready to tell.
So I’ve waited.
“I know you’ve seen this before.” She breathes out, thumb instinctively brushing over her ink covered skin. "And I know you’re curious as to what it means.”
Looking from her wrist, to her face, I keep quiet. Words are pointless. We both know she’s right.
Both our eyes watch her thumb naturally stroking over her wrist, before she crosses her arms again.
“It’s a date. September 25th, 2005.” I swallow hard, realizing that it’s also today’s date, just two years later. “The day my mother died.”
I’ve never ever been good at consoling people. I’ve never been the one to shine in a emergency. If I’m going to be honest, I don’t know how to take care of people. I’m awkward and uncomfortable. I’m the girl who makes jokes. I’m the girl who laughs and then cries when she gets home.
I’m the girl who doesn’t know what the hell to do when someone else cries before they laugh.
But when I see the tiny held back tears in Ashley’s eyes, I don’t even wait to wrap my arm around her, pulling her close to my side. Not going for a full on hug, and not because of my awkward consoling issues. No I’m doing it for her. Somehow knowing she doesn’t want to be treated like she needs to be taken care of.
However, I care about her, I care about her so much and her loss hurts me too. Hurts me so much I can’t stop myself from apologizing.
“Ash. I’m so sor-”
“Don’t apologize or pity me Spence. Please, don’t feel bad for me. It was two years ago, and it was an even longer time coming before that. It’s just...” She harshly wipes her eyes, and I know it’s not because she minds crying in front of me. I know she just doesn’t want to cry any more tears over something she’s cried rivers over already. "I just have a hard time when it gets close to the day of, you know, when she...”
Arms still crossed, her voice follows the breeze over the water, as she finally lets her body lean into mine.
“How did she, I mean if you don’t mind, how did she die?”
“Breast cancer. She fought it for a good two years. One minute she was in remission, the next it was in her bones. It was only a few more months of struggling and fighting after that.”
Simply stating the facts, she removes herself from the pain of the situation. From the weight of it all. And suddenly I feel strange. So strange that I’m only finding out about this now. Almost a year of becoming friends, growing closer to someone -- to her -- than I’ve ever been with anyone, and I’ve never known about the biggest thing to happen in her life.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“You never asked?” Through nervous laughter, she leans closer to me, like she knows I can’t understand why it’s something we’ve never talked about. And judging by the way she shakes her head, catching the unsure look in her eyes, I realize maybe it’s something even she can’t understand.
“I don’t know why I never brought it up. It’s not from a lack of love or respect for my mom. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I loved my mom with all of this...” She lightly pats her chest, "Just so much. When I lost her, it just broke me. Completely broke me. No matter how much knowledge or preparation I had. It didn’t matter. Nothing can prepare you for death. You know? And the reason I haven’t told you yet is - it’s because I don’t want to be, like, defined by it, I don't know.” She’s frustrated, but she keeps trying, "All my friends from home, all these people back in Cleveland, they all looked at me differently after she died. They saw this girl that I didn't want to be. They saw this weak girl who lost her mother. Who lost the only family she ever had.”
My hand pulls her closer without even realizing it, needing to comfort her.
“Ash, you are the strongest person I know. You could never look weak.”
“But I was.” Quietly spoken with every grain of truth she holds, and I realize there’s no need to fight her on this. So I look down toward our feet so close together on the ground. Watching the way her bare toes curl and uncurl in the grass.
“I was lost there for a while, Spence. My home didn’t feel like my home. My friends didn’t feel like my friends. All I saw there was the life I used to have, and that life just...it just wasn’t mine anymore.”
Suddenly, the light bulb goes off as I turn to her. "And that’s when you came here?”
She looks up at me with new, warm eyes, “Yeah. That’s when I came here and that’s when I found a life again because...” For the first time in awhile she smiles with a shred of happiness. "That’s when I found you.”
I can’t help but give her a small grin. Even through the sadness of the memory, even through the losses of her life, I can’t help but be grateful for gaining her in mine.
“The same goes for me.” Shyness fills my every inch, as I finally show her some truth, I finally open myself up to her, knowing she needs it. Knowing I need it. "You know, I found a life too, when I found you.”
Still equally leaning into each other, we hold eyes. We lock looks. And then she giggles.
“Well obviously, Spencer. That's a given. It’s me we’re talking about here. Ashley Davies.”
A laugh that’s never felt so good leaves my lips and things feel right again. We stand there together in silence. My arm sits around her shoulders, hand hovering over her collarbone. Never feeling more comfortable.
But I still have to let her know. I still have to show her how much I care.
"I'm sorry Ash."
A silent beat. A beat of understanding.
"I know."
The air becomes easy, light, and I realize she doesn’t want any more sympathy. I realize she wants to move on. I know she needs to.
"Thank you, Spencer." She says it softly. And I just hold her closer.
“You never have to thank me, Ash. I’m always here for you. And you can always come to me. Always.”
She rests on my shoulder, and I don’t even have time to stop myself from lightly kissing the top of her head. Feeling more natural with her than I’ve ever felt.
“Yeah, always? Like always always? Or just like...always sometimes?”
She giggles genuinely, taking a lighthearted jab at me, and I feel a breath of relief file out of me. Solely for hearing her as herself again. For hearing my Ashley. For hearing her and knowing she's ok.
“Always always always always...” Rushes from my lips before she chuckles her way out of my arms, throwing a hand over my mouth.
“Ok, I get it. I’m reading you loud and clear.”
Breathless and still chuckling, I lightly take her hand. “Good. Always remember it, ok?”
“Yeah...” She rolls her eyes. “Always.”
Face to face, we laugh a little longer, before it dribbles away and all that’s left is her hand in mine. Burning my skin the longer it stays there. And as I let go of it, nearly blinded by the rock resting on her left ring finger, I remember who she belongs to. I remember this is not my place.
“Does, uh, does Glen know?” I’m looking down to the ground, not even sure why.
“No, no, you’re the first to know. You're always the first to know, Spence.” She says automatically, not even giving it a second thought, and then she changes, her tone completely dropping and flattening. “Which, I guess after what we talked about at the party, I kind of have to stop doing.” That brings my eyes to hers, utterly perplexed, and she just looks away. Distantly scanning the water as a heavy sigh pushes past her lips, "I have to stop making you that person. You know, the person I lean on so much. I have to lean on him now.”
And there’s that fuzzy train wreck again. The pieces are coming back to me, but they’re blurry and jagged. Their colors are faded and I still can’t see the picture they’re creating. And it feels like I’ll never know what that picture is.
Because I’ll never ask. Something feels like I lost that right when I lost the ability to remember.
We stand there in somewhat awkward silence, and I already know we’re feeling it for different reasons. We’re feeling it for things that are beyond my control. All I want to do is find that control. All I want to do is discover the reasons for this tension.
But then I remember what this day is for her. I remember everything it holds. I remember what she’s going through. And I’m not going to push it anymore. She doesn’t need anything more to deal with here. She doesn’t need any reason to stop smiling or laughing today.
Tentatively linking my hand with hers, I softly and genuinely reassure her. “You can lean on me, Ash. That’s never ever going to change.”
“Good.”
Her voice sounds choked, and I’m sure she’s feeling the weight of this day weighing on her. I’m sure she’s filled up with so much emotion. And remembering something I have packed in our picnic, I’m going to try and lift that weight.
“You wanna go for a walk or something? You know we can talk..." I'm quick to reassure her, "Or not talk. Whatever you want. I thought it might be nice to mosey around this place. But just you and me, k? Just us, cause Aiden's a drag, man." That gets her already smiling mouth laughing, as I keep going, "So you wanna do that? I'll even find you the coolest walking stick in town."
Her smile floods my insides with warmth. Her smile tells me a thousand thank you's. Thank you's I've never needed.
"I'd really like that."
We keep our eyes on each other, sharing words with a look, before we both start walking.
"Oh and we have to bring the secret sandwiches I stashed away for us." I say slyly, casting her a look, finding her smiling wildly at me. Eyebrows raised.
“Secret sandwiches just for us, huh?”
“Yup.” One proud head nod and she laughs adorably.
“As in ‘we are what we eat’ kind of sandwiches?”
"Yeah, something like that." We walk closer together, feeling a big smile spreading from her face onto mine, "You know, I was right, you are one smart cookie, Miss Davies. I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” She threads her fingers with mine, holding onto me tightly, giving me two squeezes, and I can't help but continue honestly and genuinely, "One out of a million reasons."
With a deep breath, her thumb lightly brushes over my skin, sending shivers through my body.
"I love you, Spence."
Both our eyes fixed straight ahead, I don't have to look at her as I whisper, "I love you too."
I don't have to look to see if she knows I mean it.
I know she knows.
I know because I've never meant it more.
-------------
Chapter Sixteen:: Too Real To Be True