Maybe someday, p.22
Maybe Someday, page 22
“What’s a golden ticket?”
“You get them for doing something really good.” Avonlee’s eyes lit up, the blue such a reminder of Mari and what she looked like when she was excited even though Avonlee was a dead ringer for Ash.
“Oh, that’s cool!”
“It’s awesome.” Avonlee grinned. “I’ve been doing so much better this month. Ms. Dunja even said so, that’s why she gave me the golden ticket.”
“Well, I’m proud of you.” Ash straightened her back, swiveling her head from side to side as she tried to look for Chris. What was she doing? She should be focused on her kids. They were her everything.
So why did she want to see Chris so much?
That was the question she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to answer. Not yet anyway. That night in her office, something snapped. Ash’s heart had been full and warm and like they were right back in Chris’ office and Ash was asking her out. But she didn’t want that. She wanted to remember Mari and the pain and be the grieving widow. She wanted to know that her wife wouldn’t ever be forgotten. But anytime Chris was nearby, it was like Ash forgot the real woman she’d fallen in love with all those years ago.
Chris was so honest, almost to a fault. And Ash couldn’t feel bad if she wanted to keep some of who she was a secret, especially since they hadn’t really even started dating.
“Mom, can we play?” Rhubie asked, pulling on Ash’s hand.
Ash glanced over at the playground set that swarmed with children. She looked at both the girls and gave a slight shrug. This was what they needed, some time together as a family, doing something fun. “Sure, why not?”
They took off, leaving their backpacks at Ash’s feet. She picked them up and stalked over to one of the few benches in the playground and sat down. Ash watched her daughters play and run, but she also looked around for Chris. She should be here, shouldn’t she?
Ash let the girls play for twenty minutes before the chill settled into her chest and she called them so they could get home. She wanted to get started on dinner and have some time with her kids as a family, which they rarely seemed to do anymore. She walked between them as they went to her car. Just as she was passing through the parking lot, Ash caught sight of Chris.
Chris’s hair was pulled into a ponytail, long down her back. Ash’s breath caught in her throat, and she faltered in her step. Chris hadn’t seen her yet. Ash clenched her fists and was about to call out, when Chris turned by the doors to the school and made eye contact with them. She nodded, her lips thin and jaw set. She did nothing else as she ducked into the school and vanished from Ash’s sight.
What was that about?
Rhubie tugged on Ash’s hand. “What’s for dinner?”
“Oh, I don’t know, baby.” Ash was barely able to tear her gaze from the door that Chris had disappeared into. Were they at that point now? Not talking. Barely acknowledging each other’s existence?
On the one hand that was probably a good thing. But on the other, Ash hated it. This wasn’t what she wanted. Was it? Longing settled into her chest in a way it hadn’t been there in ages. It ached. Ash reached up and rubbed the center of her chest as she stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the street to her car.
They loaded inside, and she made the quick drive home. Instead of sending the girls to do their homework immediately, Ash put on a movie and made some popcorn. She sprinkled salt and some dry dill into it, Rhubie’s favorite, and sat down with them. She only half paid attention as the girls jumped around, moved from place to place, watched the movie, and generally just relaxed.
Maybe she wouldn’t even cook dinner that night. Maybe she would order something, and they would dine on the excitement of a break. Ash smiled at that and whipped out her phone. It didn’t take her long to put in an order to their favorite take-out and just wait for it to arrive. She would make this a good night, even if she still couldn’t get Chris off her mind.
Her phone rang.
Ash stared down at it, the number popping up from the school. Frowning, Ash maneuvered off the couch and walked to her bedroom. Her stomach sank. Every time she got a call from the school, something was wrong, usually with Avonlee.
“Hello?” Ash answered, waiting for Ms. Dunja to come over the line.
“This is Dr. Murphey calling from Irving Elementary. Is this Ashton Taylor?”
Ash’s stomach twisted hard. What was happening? Chris had never been this formal with her before. Never ever. The lump in her throat swelled, and tears burned in her eyes. What had she done?
“Yeah, Chris, it’s me.” Ash choked back the pain in her voice, at least she hoped she did. She didn’t want Chris to think there was anything wrong.
“I was calling because Avonlee got a golden ticket today. Her teacher, Ms. Dunja, gave it to her for excellence in academics and for helping her little in the first grade class with reading.”
The tears that had been in Ash’s eyes flowed down her cheeks. It wasn’t because of Chris, though. This was all because of Avonlee. Her baby who had been struggling so much was finally honored for doing something good, something well. Her heart thudded with pride.
“So Ms. Dunja gave her a golden ticket, which is a great honor, and both Ms. Dunja and I are really proud of her and the progress she’s made in the last few weeks. Avonlee has proven that she can work hard.”
“Chris,” Ash’s voice broke on her name. What was she hoping for?
“That’s all I’m calling for Ash.” That was Chris, broken. “I’ll see the girls when they get back from break.”
With that, Chris hung up.
Ash stared at her phone in her hand, her heart racing wildly. What was wrong with her? Immediately she called Char.
“Come over, please.”
Char groaned. “What if I had a date tonight?”
Ash snorted. “Your dates come over late and leave early. Tinder can wait until tomorrow.”
“You’re mean.”
“Come over, please.”
“You were just a jerk to me. What makes you think I’d want to come over after that?”
Ash pressed her lips together hard, curling her feet up under her as she leaned into the pillows on her bed. “I don’t know what to do.”
Something must have shone through Ash’s voice because Char stuttered in her silence. It wasn’t much longer until she said quickly, “I’ll be right there. Give me ten.”
Ash hung up and curled onto her side on the bed in the fetal position. Her mind was so clouded with thoughts and confusion that she wasn’t sure which direction to turn or go or what to think or feel. It was all just circling around in her brain like a garbage disposal.
“Mama,” Avonlee said as she stepped into Ash’s bedroom. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing, baby.” Ash forced a smile onto her face. She held her arms out for Avonlee to come cuddle against her and hug her. “Dr. Murphey just called. She told me all about your golden ticket.”
Ash brushed her fingers through Avonlee’s hair, curling the loose strands around her ear.
“I’m so proud of you, baby.”
Tears threatened to spill over her eyes again. She had been doing way too damn much of that lately. Ash tugged Avonlee in closer and wrapped her tightly in a hug. She held on, drawing in her scent and settling into the familiarity. She needed this more than anything.
Rhubie rounded the corner, canting her head at them. Ash grinned and moved her arm to hold it out for her other daughter. She wormed her way into Ash’s embrace, settling her head on Ash’s shoulder with a smile. This was perfect and exactly what she needed. They stayed there until there was a loud knock on the front door.
The girls jerked, but Ash laughed lightly. “It’s Auntie.”
“Oh!” They raced toward the door to open it.
Char came in with bags in her hands. “I got the good stuff.”
“What good stuff?” Ash wrapped her arm around her middle and leaned against the entry into the living room.
“Ice cream, Funyuns, and whatever chocolate bars I could grab.”
Laughing, Ash walked toward the kitchen table as Char set everything down. “You’re an idiot, but I love you.”
“Love you too. Now go get us some bowls and spoons.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It wasn’t long before the adults were sitting at the table and the kids were on the couch watching a new movie. Char kept sending Ash sidelong glances. Ash knew she was going to have to give in and tell her why she’d called her to come here, but at the same time, she struggled to find words for it to make sense in her head. As soon as she said it out loud it wouldn’t make any sense.
“I was lonely, okay?”
Char raised an eyebrow at her, as if she wasn’t quite believing Ash. Which was fine. Ash didn’t quite believe it herself either. Though loneliness had become her constant companion in the last few years. Since moving here, she hadn’t felt it nearly as often as before. Why was that?
“What’s the real reason?”
Ash narrowed her eyes and sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“So start with what you do know.”
“I miss her.” Ash moved her spoon around her ice cream bowl. What had she been thinking? Char was probably the last person she should call because Char would lay on thick exactly what she thought and most likely what Ash needed to hear. Still, Ash wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it.
“That’s natural.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to miss her. I want to just live my life, raise my kids, and go on from there.” Ash shoved a giant spoonful of the Bunny Tracks ice cream into her mouth. This one was her favorite, and she’d taken the Funyuns and crunched them up to sprinkle on top to add texture and flavor to it. She’d figured out this combination when she’d been pregnant the second time—with the baby they’d lost—and she’d kept on doing it to keep that memory fresh. She was such a nostalgic granny at heart.
“Ash, I think this is normal. Her birthday was last week.”
Jerking with a start, Ash looked at Char surprised. They were talking about two different women, the two women in Ash’s life. And while she’d thought about Mari on her birthday this year, it hadn’t been a big deal. Not like the last two, and the girls had barely mentioned it as well.
Char studied her curiously, her gaze flitting all over Ash’s face. “You weren’t talking about Mari.”
“I wasn’t,” Ash whispered. “I wasn’t even thinking about her.”
“Chris?” Char whispered back.
Ash nodded, giving confirmation, but she really didn’t want the girls to hear her. This wasn’t something they needed to know. Ash slowly picked up her spoon and took another bite. “It’s probably just because I started my period or something.”
“I’ve known you your entire life.” Char gave her a steady, firm look. “You don’t do raging weird hormones. Ever. Except when pregnant.”
“Now who’s being mean?” Ash settled into the moment, her heart easing with the distress that had been caused. What was she supposed to do about all of this? She could barely even talk about it. Still, having this one-on-one time with Char had been exactly what she needed. “I don’t know what to do about it.”
“What’s your gut telling you?”
“I don’t know.” Ash cringed. That was the problem, really. She had no idea what the next step was.
“What do you want?” Char pinned her with every ounce of seriousness she had.
Ash sighed. She ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes. She tried to pull words and thoughts and feelings from the center of her body to some place where it would make sense. But she just couldn’t. She ended up just shaking her head and saying the only thing that came to mind. “I just want one night of happiness.”
“What would that look like?”
“So many different things.” Ash gave Char a sad smile. “Mari back, here, with us, even if it was just for one day. Someone new. The girls just smiling and laughing. So many things, Char.”
“Come here.” Char leaned over and wrapped her arms around Ash’s shoulders and tugged her in for a tight hug. “We’ll find you some happiness, okay? It might not be today, but it will be someday.”
“Yeah,” Ash whispered. “Someday.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Mel, I need to talk to you.” Chris leaned into Mel’s empty classroom. She was going to demand this moment from her friend, whether she had the time or not. Because Chris was torn.
Mel looked up, meeting her eyes, and nodded her agreement. “Shut the door.”
“God, yes.” Chris stepped into the classroom and closed the door behind her. “How’s your class going now that we’re back from break? Has the crazy calmed down in them yet?”
Mel’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “It’s taken the full two weeks since coming back I think, but they’re calming.”
It was mid-April, and the end of the school year was closing in faster than Chris wanted to admit. While she appreciated the calm of the summers, she also hated how quiet they could get. It meant way more temptations than she was ready for, but maybe this summer would be better. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard. Last year had been the worst.
“That’s good. I feel the energy leaving the school, that after-break energy. We’re getting back into routines.”
“We are.” Mel was still watching her, as if she could really tell what was going through Chris’ mind at the moment.
Sometimes having friends that close was a curse and a blessing. But she had come here for a reason either way. Chris plopped down into one of the chairs and crossed her arms. Then she shifted her legs and uncrossed her arms. She stared out the window. Where to begin with this one?
“Avonlee, Ash’s oldest, earned pizza with the principal.”
“Oh, that’s great! She was having all those issues, right?”
Chris hummed and nodded. It was a good thing. It took a lot in order to earn that, but they’d all agreed to let her in on it since she’d had such an amazing turnaround in the last few months. Except there was still the problem of Ash, and Chris wasn’t sure how to navigate that one. She’d kept as much distance as she could, reverting back to complete professionalism. She had to stop letting Ash get under her skin in that way.
And Chris had taken great pains to put more distance between them, including not staying the night at the house anymore. She needed the space to protect herself more than anything. Chris shuddered, mulling through her thoughts. How was she going to approach this one? The problem was she was too close to the situation, which was why she’d sought out Mel. She needed the outside observer.
“I don’t want Ash to think I’m playing favorites. That’s what got me into trouble with her when she was my student.”
Mel whipped her head up. “What do you mean?”
“I favored her as a student.” Chris frowned at that. She hadn’t wanted to admit it for years, but after teaching for so long she understood there were often favorites, those students who left a sizable impact on her life. Ash was one of them. “She had such potential with writing, and so I gave her more attention than others. She thought it was bullying.”
“No way.”
“I’m not the most personable teacher out there.” Chris let out a wry snort.
“No, you’re not. But that’s part of your charm.” Mel grinned broadly.
Chris rolled her eyes dramatically. Mel was always looking on the brighter side of life, wasn’t she? Still that hadn’t been what Chris had come there for that day. “So I don’t want her to think I’m doing the same with Avonlee.”
“But Avonlee earned this privilege, I assume.”
“She did. Esther is the one who suggested her for it, actually.”
“Not bad then. Follow that up with a paper trail and you’ll be fine.”
Chris narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think that’s how it works anymore.” At least not with Ash. They always seemed to be at odds, not quite understanding each other or where they were coming from. Nothing of that had changed in the last seventeen years, despite what Chris had thought there for a moment. It would be best for Chris to slide through this as much as she possibly could. She didn’t want to make any more waves for Ash. She wanted to be the best principal that she could be for the girls, but that was it. She was done.
Ash wouldn’t want her no matter what.
Which was a good thing.
Because Chris didn’t deserve it.
She would fuck it up as soon as she hit the ground running.
Sighing, Chris leaned back in the chair and looked out the window again at the kids playing outside. It was a sunny day, one of the first few they’d had since winter eased into spring. Shuddering Chris turned to Mel again.
“Tell me I won’t screw this up.”
Mel’s face fell. She leaned forward, her hands folded as her elbows hit the desk. “Chris, you’re not going to screw this up.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“You are by far the best principal I’ve ever worked with.”
Chris narrowed her eyes. “I’ve been your principal for the last twelve years. And before that you only worked under Josh. That doesn’t exactly leave me with many warm feelings.”
Mel waved her off. “You are the best principal I’ve seen out there. And I think a lot of that is because you think you aren’t, so you’re always working at being better. You have to accept that you were made for this.”
Chris had accepted that, but she still wasn’t sure about the first part of what Mel had said. She always felt as though she was failing somewhere, and since she’d sobered up that had really only turned into being hard on herself because she’d been drunk for so long. A functional drunk, but that was only a small concession.
“I’m not the best principal out there.”
“I didn’t say you were.” Mel winked. “But you are one of the better ones. You’ve got this, Chris. Stop second guessing yourself. You need to get yourself together and stop being so hard on yourself. You’re brilliant, you’re amazing, and those kids deserve everything.”
