Time for everyone's favorite rock star!
Trace
Ash is pacing and raving, and clearly I have to do something about it.
Because she's barefoot, and she's going to get splinters in her feet from this old, weathered deck.
And because if I don't shut her down soon, I'm going to run out of cigarettes.
"...and of course everything with Leed is perfect right now and I've never felt anything like it, but will it last? He always says he can't make promises. Maybe he's right. You know I read somewhere that love only really lasts eighteen months? After that, your brain just gets used to the love neurochemicals and it doesn't feel the same anymore, and all you are left with is your common interests and goals. Do you think that's true?"
"No," I say on exhale, but she doesn't hear me, she just keeps right on talking.
"Because if we don't have common goals...where will we be then? And I can't lie to myself anymore, Trace. I want a family. Not now, of course, but one day. And maybe I shouldn't want that considering I have brain damage—"
"—you don't have brain damage, your brain scans are normal now—"
She's still not listening; she keeps right on, talking over me.
"—and an addiction problem—"
I snort and wave at my house, "—never stopped any other person on the planet from trying to parent—"
"—but I do. I can't pretend I don't want kids just to please Leed, right? I mean, I'll just end up resenting him one day, and feeling like my life is not complete."
"Leed can't know for sure how he'll feel about something like that in a few years. He's just freaked out because he accidentally procreated with Tam, and she's acting crazy all the damn time. Of course he thinks he doesn't want more kids right now. He'll probably come around."
"But you can't know that." She's actually wringing her hands now, but I'm watching her feet. Yep, she's probably got dozens of little splinters already, she's just too agitated to realize it. I've got to put a stop to her pacing. Now.
I light two more cigarettes, block her path, and put one between her frowny lips. She makes a disgusted sound and throws it in another empty planter filled with rainwater. "I can't smoke anymore. I already feel like I'm dying."
I laugh. Just like old times. She's had half a cigarette.
"Look you want my honest to god's advice?"
"Yes."
I take a long draw, just to make sure I have her attention. I blow the smoke to the side while I keep eye contact with her. "If you want to housewife it in the suburbs with a brood of blonde babies, then Cam's the dude for you."
Her eyes narrow. "Uuuuuugggghhhh, why would you even say that, Trace?" She stalks off the deck, and into the backyard just to get away from me, which is exactly what I was hoping for. The bermuda grass is still perfectly manicured and there's not a stick or even a leaf in site, so now I don't have to worry about her feet. She triggers the motion light. I can see her angry posture as stalks off.
"Isn't that what you want?" I yell at her at her back. "Somebody to tell you what's best for you?"
She swings around for a rebuttal, and I quickly cross the deck, blocking her from coming back up the stairs. "Cam is not what's best for me!" she yells in my face. "Leed makes me feel alive and free and good about myself and he doesn't care about my past or my scars and he's the most amazing, creative, inspiring person I've ever met and when I'm with him I feel like...everything is possible. Cam can't even..." she stops and presses her lips together.
"Can't what?" I ask her curiously. I'm really interested to know what the almighty Cameron Martin can't do. Mike and Ellen frickin' worship the dude.
"Nothing."
"Tell me."
"No."
"Come on. How am I supposed to give you advice if you aren't telling me the whole story?"
"He...I...our sex was never that great, okay?"
I grin at her, taking another draw. "He didn't take you to O-town in the back seat of that 'Stang, is that what you are saying?"
She looks annoyed and she doesn't answer. Instead she crosses her arms and stares into my dark backyard, refusing to elaborate.
"If that's the way you feel, Jesus, hon, why are you even torturing me like this? This is a no brainer. A life of adventure in and out of bed with the Lion of Soundcrush who makes you feel like everything is possible versus a life with Cam, who will put far more time into the OR than he ever will put into your orgasms?"
"I'm not saying I'm considering a life with Cam at all. I love Leed. I feel like everyday without him is grayer. But...but...it's not that simple. The kind of passion we have maybe doesn't last forever, I don't know. There are other things to consider besides..." even in the dark I can see her blushing, "besides amazing sex and adventure. There's the future, which Leed is definitely not thrilled about considering, and I'm worried I'll be sad if—"
"You can't know for sure what's going to happen in the future. With Leed or with Cam or with anyone or anything. Leed is kid-freaked right now, but do you honestly think if you two settle down one day, that there's no chance he'll pull a Matt del Marco, and want to have a second round? It's highly possible, because he's a great dad and he enjoys kids more than anybody I know. Well, except maybe Bodie. But I can totally see Leed doing the older wiser dad thing. On the other hand, it's also possible that despite his good prognosis now, Cameron's cancer could come back again in ten years, and he could fucking die and leave a wife alone to raise his houseful of rugrats. You could also get smacked by a bus next week, for all we know. But you know what? You can't worry about that shit, Ash. You can make all the plans you want, but you can't control the future. You can only really choose for today, maybe tomorrow. The question is...if you only had one more day, who would you want to spend tonight with?"
She opens her mouth, then closes it. She smiles at me, throws her arms around my neck, and kisses my cheek. "Thank you," she says.
I pat her back, smoking over her shoulder.
"Well, well, Dr. Martin," I say to the broad-shouldered, athletic dude loping across the dark lawn toward us.
Ashlynn whirls around, but I keep an arm over her shoulder. Just to piss him off.
I'll admit it. Cam and I always rubbed each other the wrong way. I know we are both "white, male, and privileged," but he thought I was a stoner slacker lacking in respect, and I thought he was a typical all-American jock that took his privilege a little too much for granted.
"Cancer looks good on you," I gesture at his physique which is even more muscular than when we were in high school.
Cam looks very pointedly at the Camel I'm smoking. "You too, Gallant."
I laugh. "Good point." I take another draw and exhale slowly, before stubbing it out. "Quitting, right now," I grin.
"Right," he snorts. He gives Ashlynn his patented puppy-dog look of concern that always used to make her melt. "You okay?"
She smiles at him easily. "Yes. Well, actually," she bends a knee, brushes off her foot, "I think I have a ton of splinters in my feet..."
I tsk. I knew it.
He holds out his hand to her. "Well, come on in, and I'll take a look at them."
"It's fine, I can get them out myself." She doesn't take his hand. Instead she looks at me. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I have some investments here in Atlanta I need to look over. Plus I talked to your dad today. He said Cam's pretty much recovered from his first round of chemo. Figured you'd be ready to get back to LA without the hassle of a commercial flight, so I borrowed the jet from dear old dad," I wink at her. "Driver's waiting to take you to the airport, Leed's waiting in LA with a lapful of hot lovin' for you to—"
She kicks the side of my foot. "Don't be crude, Trace."
"You're worse than your sister when it comes to physical abuse, you know," I tell her testily, but Ash's physicality doesn't really bother me. She's a sweetheart; she doesn't stoke the fire in me that makes me worry about my self-control.
"Sorry," she says, wincing.
"S'okay," I shrug. I look Cam over. "Cam, I was just giving you shit. Chemo sucks, I'm sorry you're going through that. How ya feelin, man?"
He sticks his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, I'm feeling much better than last week. I'm actually starting back to work day after tomorrow, and I'm hoping I can work fairly regularly until my next round of chemo. I do have some doctor's appointments tomorrow, though. I'm doing a bunch of voluntary cancer studies, you know. One of them is the effects of chemo on vision. I have to have my eyes dilated. I can't drive, obviously." He shrugs sheepishly at Ashlynn.
"You can call an Uber," I say helpfully. Ash gives me her schoolmarm look, like she knows exactly what I'm doing. She's right—I'm trying to get my boy's girl home to him where she belongs. I wasn't too hot on Leed and Ash when they started up, but Leed trumps Cam Martin any day of the year.
"I can take you to your appointments, Cam!" the girl I love says cheerfully, from up on the deck where she's standing inside the open slider.
"Baby, don't come out here barefoot," I say automatically to Kat, holding up a warning hand. "You'll get splinters...the deck needs to be sanded and resealed..."
She lifts a flip-flopped foot and bounds out on the deck, skipping down the steps and skirting me as she moves to hug Cameron. "Hey, Number 12!" she squeals, referencing his jersey number.
"Wow, look at you," he blinks at her—probably because she and Ashlynn look more alike than ever, now that Kat has matured. "All grown up."
"Yep. How are you, Champ?"
"Makin' it," he smiles.
"I know you are," she pats his arm. "I know you are going slay cancer just like you steamrolled all the way to State your senior year, but I'm worried about you. And mom, too, of course. That's why I'm here—to spell my big sister and help out. I'm an excellent Ashlynn substitute, right Trace?"
She and Ash laugh, but I don't think it's very funny. Ashlynn, who is actually a little more sensitive to my discomfort over our former marriage than Kat, covers by asking, "Okay, but what are you guys doing over here? Breaking in for old times sake?"
"Well, actually..." Kat strikes a game show model pose, framing the house. "We're inspecting the Atlanta Bandhouse."
"You're kidding," Ash says.
"Nope," I say.
"There goes the neighborhood," Cam's voice is heavy with sarcasm.
"Suck my dick, man."
"I already have a Tic-Tac, thanks," he pops right back. I can't help but laugh. He's a douche, but that was a good one.
Ashlynn is looking at me with concern. "Are you sure you want to be back here in this house?"
I shrug. "It was Leed's idea, but I'm...surprisingly okay with it. With Ellen having lupus, Cam having cancer—you and Kat needing to spend more time here—and Bodie practically on house-arrest here with his rehab, and Madam only three hours away in Nashville, and Mac now being the most sought after female feature artist in the Atlanta rap game...yeah. Seems like Soundcrush needs a home base in the A. And Leed is right, the more convenient to your parents place the better.
"I bought it today, cause that part just seemed right. But everyone is pitching in. Adam's sending his brother-in-law tomorrow with a crew to give us a super fast renovation and get rid of the old mojo, you know? Mac wants a pool and outdoor living area, so there will be crews here for that soon as soon as the HOA approves the plans, and Leed's gonna spring for a basement studio...Bodie said he'll put a couple nice rides here for everyone to use and go big on the entertainment package..."
Kat snuggles up to me, "We'll have a lot of good times here."
Her sweet smile is a warm as her arms, wrapping me tight. "Not that good. Your dad will shut us down if we get too rowdy, I'm sure."
"That or Old Man Donner will call the cops," Ashlynn's face scrunches in irritation. "Do you know he called my dad and complained that Cam got sick in front of his house? And I even rinsed it away with a water bottle!"
"I hate that dude," I rub my chin. "You know what? We're gonna hire somebody capable to help out around here and at your parents' house. But their first and foremost job is going to be to fuck with Donner in every way possible."
"Trace...you can not hire somebody to harass him, no matter how awful he is," Ashlynn chides.
"I'm not talking about threatening his person or vandalism. I'm talking complaints to the HOA if he has one blade of untrimmed grass, or maybe constantly sending him packages he didn't order, so he has to come to the door—you know how he hates people knocking on his door. Just annoying shit, to fuck with him..."
Cam laughs and throws an arm around Ash, jutting his chin at me. "Some things never change, huh?"
"Some things do." My response prompts a cool stare, but Cameron Martin has nothing on my rock star face. Without breaking my gaze, I ask, "Ash, are you taking the return flight or what?"
She looks up at him. "I think so, yes." She pats Cam's stomach, stepping away from him. "You'll call me, if you're not feeling well? If you get too run-down at work, or any new symptoms..."
Cam adopts a stoic expression. "I'll be fine."
"But you'll definitely call, if your chemo dates should change for any reason? As it stands now, I can definitely come, but I promised Leed I'd go to the Grammy's with him..."
He presses his lips together and then sighs heavily. "Sweetheart, I couldn't have made it through this first time without you and your mom, but maybe I should just hire some in-home care going forward. You...have your own life, in LA...and your mom has no obligation to me, for helping when you were sick. She doesn't have to repay me for loving you."
She steps back to hug him again, almost automatically. "Don't be ridiculous. We've already decided all this. I'll be back for your next round, no matter what."
I grin at my shoes. The dude is good. He's always been like this with her. The scuttlebutt around our high school was he talked her out of her pants when she was fifteen, within weeks of kissing her for the first time. At least that what all his football buddies said. I wasn't sure if he bragged, or they just started rumors. Just like I have just never been able to figure out...does Cam manipulate her on purpose or does it just come naturally to him?
I don't think Cam is a super bad guy, but he's the kind of guy that's always gotten everything he wants. Ashlynn's accident was the only bad thing that ever to "him." The time I had to collect her from the ER when she OD'ed in his apartment parking lot, I realized after talking to him, it's almost like he sees Ashlynn's accident as something that happened to him, or maybe to them, but still, he's very self-absorbed about the whole thing. He failed her, he lost her, he couldn't get her back where she needed to be, and he couldn't deal anymore, so he had to let her go. Like her recovery was the winning pass at a football game that he couldn't complete, so the only solution was to shake off the loss and move on to the next game.
Now that she's better, he wants her back where she's supposed to be, on his arm. And he doesn't seem to have any qualms about using his cancer to pull at her heartstrings.
But it's like I told Leed about a dozen times this week, it's not my job or his to counter-manipulate Ashlynn. She has to figure out how to handle Cam Martin, or he's going to be running her forever.
He smiles and squeezes her hand. "Okay, thank you. I can't tell you how comforting you've been. I really appreciate you, Laney." He tugs at her hand. "Come on, I'll help you pack up."
"Actually, Ash, can you hang for a few minutes? I want to ask your opinion, about something."
"Sure."
Kat winks at me and grabs Cam by the arm. "Come on, be my buffer to the parental units. They like you better than me."
"They do not," he admonishes her. Ash and I can still here them as they wander back toward the Ballard house.
"They are about to like everyone better than me, because I just declined my admission deferral at Duke. I'm officially never-ever going to Duke. I need to figure out how to tell them."
Cam whistles. "Okay, you're right. Here's the play, I'll throw you a lateral pass by bringing up Duke, and then you can say your thing real quick and chuck the ball back to me and I'll distract them with...you know...cancer..."
"Good play. Let's go with that," are the last words we can make out before their conversation drifts into the darkness.
"He was always excellent at working our parents," Ashlynn notes.
"Not just parents."
She gives me a side-eye. "You think he's manipulating me? What was your whole reverse psychology Cam's the dude for you thing, then?"
"That was not manipulation. That was the truth. If you want the doctor's-wife-mama's-life, you could do worse than Cam. He'd treat you right, as long as you do all the shit he wants—support his career, go to all his big man on campus alumni tailgates, host his colleagues at Christmas, put up with the fat-cat hospital board members ogling the prettiest young doctor's wife while they drink his wine..."
"You make all that sound so...wrong."
I shrug. "It ain't wrong, but only you can decide if it's right for you."
"You really don't like Cam, do you?"
"Not even a little bit," I grin at her. "But maybe it's just because he's cut from the same preppy cloth as Dickwad."
"Who?"
"Oh, I guess you never met Colin. Kat's old boyfriend. Also a quarterback. Cameron, Colin...basically the same guy. You Ballard girls have terrible taste in first serious boyfriends."
She shakes her head at me and grabs onto my shoulders bouncing on her toes, and I piggy-back her up the deck so she doesn't get more splinters.
We make our way toward the entry way. This house sounds hollow as my footfalls echo around the tiled, two story foyer. I sit down on the curving staircase and she slides up a couple of steps behind, putting her knees against my back and leaning her head down on her folded arms.
"What's up?" she says lightly.
I look around the foyer. "I had a lot of good times in this house, and a lot of shitty experiences, too. But none of them were anything like what happened to you. You could have died right there on that floor, Hon."
"I didn't."
"Nope. What happened didn't kill you, and neither did all of the bad shit that came after. You're a survivor, but you are more than that. You're a forgiver."
She puts her hands on my shoulders. "You've been talking to Ross."
"So have you, it seems."
"Yes. He reached out to me while I was in rehab. He has a lot of remorse for what happened that night. I forgave him. It was an accident, me getting between you, and getting knocked into the table where I hit my head. But what Ross did to you, it's a much different thing. You can't be expected to forgive that so easily. I know that. He knows that."
"But yet, he's different, when he's sober. And if I can believe that you can stay sober, how can I not believe that of my own father?"
"Because he's shown you otherwise."
I snort. "So have you. Yet, somehow I still believe you've conquered your addiction now, and I trust that you are good for Leed."
She pats my shoulders. "It was easier to forgive me for the bullshit I put you through because it wasn't as hurtful. He's hurt you so much, and you are so angry. Still."
"But I want to forgive him. I do, " I confess. "Not because he deserves my forgiveness, but because I need to give it. I don't want to be angry anymore."
She sits with me quietly, for a long time. "Why did you buy this house?"
I'm sure Marley will ask me the same thing, when I tell her in our next session. I might as well figure out the answer. I think about it for a while. "Because...I want power over what happened to me."
"You only get that by taking it." After a long moment, she squeezes my shoulders. "Hold that thought." She patters down the few steps and walks out the front door, leaving it open. "Stay right there," I hear her call as she disappears off the porch. In a few minutes she's back, with her sleeves rolled up and a large sledgehammer over her shoulder. She hands me the sledgehammer and pulls a kerchief from her pocket, tying up her hair.
I laugh at her. She looks like a blonde version of the 1950's Rosie the Riveter pin-up girl.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Leed says breaking shit is very good therapy." She looks at the wall where my dad and I thumped each other around, where she got in the way, where she was pushed. "I think we should open up this wall." She pulls a smaller hammer from her back pocket and thunks the claws into the drywall with alarming force, five times. She reaches her hands in the wall and tears it, throwing a big clod of gypsum in the floor.
"It makes me so angry that none of us every did anything to help you, Trace. I knew. I knew the reason you were so...bitter back then was because something bad was happening between you and your dad. I knew, and I never asked you because it was too uncomfortable. That's what pisses me off—that I was too timid to reach out to you." Then she slams the hammer back into the wall, over and over.
"Damn."
She turns to me.
"Are you going to help or what?"
I grin at her and hoist the sledgehammer. "Yeah."
I don't know how long we demolish the wall. But when Kat walks back in, we are completely covered in white dust and we have my phone in a red solo cup, amplifying Limp Bizkit. Ash is dancing back and forth through the large hole in the wall, head-banging very lightly, like a drunk nineties groupie, but I'm still going hard, making a second opening.
Leed is right...breaking shit is great therapy. I feel great.
"What the fuck!" Kat laughs. Ash scoops the hammer and dances over to her. "Try it, it's fun. I've gotta run take a shower, I have a flight to catch."
"Ash, hey--" I swing around, and she smiles at me from the door, so brightly, it stops my words. I see, maybe for the first time ever, why Leed calls her Sunshine.
"You're welcome, brother," she skips away down the steps, but the Sun has already been replaced by the devilish HellKat stalking towards me. She throws the hammer like an axe, and I watch it wedge into an already crushed part of the wall.
She pulls my face back to hers and pushes her hands into my hair, shaking out the dust. "Having fun?"
"Yeah. It's gonna feel good to make changes here."
"Can you finish the demo with the crew tomorrow? I thought we had other plans..."
I toss down the sledgehammer and grab her booty, peaking over her shoulder to admire the dusty hand prints I just left on her black jeans. "Oh, I haven't forgotten our indoor camping plans. I didn't stop at Target for a double sleeping bag, candles, and cheap champagne for nothing."
She bites her lip, her devilish expression lightening into love. "I crushed so hard on the boy that lived here. The one that used to sing me songs from his roof..." She searches my face, and cups my jaw. "And now you are the man that sings to my soul. I'm so proud of you, Trace. You've come so far, and I'm not talking about the music."
I wrap her up tight, pushing my face into her luxurious dark hair, because she tears me up, when she says shit like that. Wordless, I pick her up like a bride, and carry up the stairs to my old room.
I've never felt so home.
Aww, I always love Trace. Thoughts on Ashlynn's "therapy?"