9. Ashley

9

ASHLEY

“Okay, Mr. Purrfect, I will see you at five. Be good. Wish me luck.” I bent down and pressed a kiss to my loyal tabby’s head. He was the only man who had never disappointed me. In fairness, his loyalty was based on not abandoning me when he managed to sneak out of the house, but loyalty was loyalty in my book.

After locking up, I pulled out my phone to text my sister and ask if she needed me to grab Luna and take her to school on my way out to Stella’s. I’d been offering my niece rides every day since the morning sickness had been brutal this time around, but my sister was stubborn and rarely accepted any sort of assistance.

When I looked at my screen, I saw there was another text from Garrett asking me to call him. The guy was really not giving up. The worst part was, every time he left another message, the walls I’d built up chipped away a little bit more. I was scared that if he continued his campaign, I was going to cave and pick up his call.

What if he really had made a mistake?

What if he really missed me?

What if we got back together and it was forever this time?

I kept having daydreams about him showing up on my doorstep in some grand romantic gesture.

Stop it , I chided myself. I might work at the house that looks like The Notebook, but I wasn’t Rachel McAdams, and Garrett definitely wasn’t Ryan Gosling.

I quickly messaged my sister and was shocked when I instantly got a response.

Skylar: That would be amazing. THX

I was sure Hank had offered the same and would have come back from whatever job site he was on, but my sister was fiercely independent. She did not accept help from people. The only reason she begrudgingly accepted assistance from me was because I guilted her by saying that she gave up her ‘good years’ to raise me. Even though I said it as a joke, I wasn’t kidding. She’d lost the years from eighteen to twenty-six being mom and dad to me, and then she got pregnant with Luna.

When I pulled up in front of the house, my niece was skipping down the steps. Her blonde pigtail braids were swinging from side to side as she carried her backpack that was almost the same size as her. Skylar stood in the doorway, waving. She looked a little green. I lifted my hand and waved back.

“Whoa, Auntie Lee Lee, Suzie Q is so clean!” Luna exclaimed as she hopped in, dropped her backpack on the floor, and put on her seatbelt. “And she smells like perfume!”

Last week, the morning after I received the admonishing text from Mr. Stick Up His Ass, aka Declan Wolfe, my car was waiting in front of my house. The only thing missing from it was a big red bow. It had not only been detail-level cleaned, inside and out; there were four brand-spanking new tires on it. I assumed, wrongly, that was where the improvements started and stopped. To my great surprise, after an inspection by my brother-in-law Hank, it seemed that not only had my oil been changed, but I’d also received new brake pads and a new battery. Also, there were some other things he’d rattled off…something about suspension and fluids. To be honest, I wasn’t really paying attention. Basically, the upshot was Suzie Q was as good as new.

Actually, this was the best Suzie Q had ever been. I bought her used when I moved out here from California from another student, and she’d been a little worse for wear then. Even the steering wheel was shiny now.

I’d made a promise to myself that I would not only keep her looking good; I would also keep up on her maintenance. This was the clean slate, pun intended, I needed. Despite the fact that he fired me and sent me a reprimanding/condescending text, I’d been the bigger person and sent him a thank you because even though I hadn’t asked for his assistance, I did appreciate it. I told him to take whatever the repairs cost out of my paycheck.

He’d replied, saying, Reimbursement will not be necessary . That was it. No, you’re welcome. No explanation. No, nothing. He was…jarring, to say the least.

“Lee, Lee, I’m gonna be a big sister!” Luna clapped excitedly as we rode to school.

“I know! Are you excited?” Apparently, they’d decided to tell her. When Skylar told me a week ago, she’d said the plan was to tell Luna when they told everyone else at ten weeks.

“Yes, but I’m not allowed to tell anyone at school yet. I’m only allowed to talk about it to you, Hank, and Mama.”

I loved my niece, but she was six. I doubted her ability to keep the news to herself. If I were a betting woman, I would give it till the end of the week until it slipped out at school, and Nadia was asking me about it since she was my niece’s teacher.

We sang at the top of our lungs to the musical stylings of Olivia Rodrigo as we pulled up to Firefly Elementary, and Luna grabbed her backpack off the floorboard.

“Okay, munchkin, have a good day and learn lots of stuff!”

“Love you, Lee Lee!” She hugged me around my neck.

“Love you, Lu Lu!” I hugged her back.

She hopped out and ran up next to a couple of her friends. It seemed like just yesterday Skylar was pregnant with her, and now she was in first grade. Time was a crazy thing. When I was a kid and even a teenager, time felt like it dragged on. Years felt like an eternity. Now, I was scared that I was going to blink, and Luna would be driving, going to prom, graduating, and leaving for college.

That was one of the reasons I’d left San Francisco when my sister moved across the country to Firefly. When my sister and niece lived in Seattle, they were a two-hour flight away. I could come home to visit them regularly. But, after she moved here a couple of years ago, I knew that I would be lucky to see them once a year. There was no way I could do that, so I transferred to SCAD. I’m glad I did because now she has another little one on the way.

I pulled away from the curb and turned the music back up as I drove out to the east side of the island. As I made my way onto the property, I wondered if I’d get a chance to go out and see Bonnie and Clyde today. Stella and I usually took a thirty-minute break every day to go out and say hi to them. When I glanced over, I saw that there was a man mucking out the stables. He had faded jeans, a baseball hat, and a white shirt on. He looked to be in his fifties. I didn’t recognize him.

For a moment, I wondered if it was Mr. Stick Up His Ass. From his text, he didn’t seem like the sort of man who would be mucking out stables, but then again, it was just texts.

I’d had my interview with Hannah the day before, and it had gone so well I was tempted to ask her about Mr. Stick Up His Ass, but I didn’t. It didn’t really matter if he was nice or not. This was a job. He didn’t have to be nice. I think it just confused me that he’d done so much for my car, which was nice, but then been such a prick about it. Not a prick, but just so, prick-like.

And then there were my daily progress emails. He either didn’t respond, or he pointed out what I was doing wrong or what I was missing or could be doing better. I was all for constructive criticism, but he had a way of just sounding like a dick.

Oh well. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need to be my friend, and thankfully, I worked with Stella. My interactions with him were all through email.

On the way up the steps I waved at stable man, he smiled and waved back. If it was Mr. Suha (Stick Up His Ass), then he was much friendlier in person.

When I knocked on the door, Fred opened it wearing his signature white shirt, cardigan, and khaki pants. He was the spitting image of Mr. Rogers, which was funny since Mr. Rogers’ name was Fred. I still wasn’t exactly sure what Fred’s job was. If I had to guess, I’d say that he drove for Mrs. Wolfe and did some handyman-type things around the house, and Dorothy cleaned and cooked, but I wasn’t entirely sure.

What I did know was they were married and had both worked for the family for over forty years. Fred loved crossword puzzles and mystery novels. He swore like a sailor and had been one. He was a Vietnam vet who proudly served in the Navy. He was allergic to shellfish and penicillin and had a sweet tooth. Dorothy loved to crochet and make her own candles. She did not approve of Fred’s swearing—but I think he only swore because he thought it was cute when she got on to him. She loved black-and-white movies and rainy nights.

We’d gotten to know each other when Stella had to take power naps during the day and when I cooked lunch. I loved cooking, and Dorothy seemed to enjoy someone preparing food for her. Stella didn’t seem to like to eat, but I insisted that she did. She was too thin not to. I do think she was coming to enjoy having lunch with everyone.

“Hey, here you go.” I handed him a plate of brownies that I’d baked over the weekend.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Brownies I baked over the weekend. If I leave them in the house, I’ll eat the whole pan. Usually, I’d give them to my sister, but she is pregnant, and anything chocolate sounds horrible to her, so I thought maybe you’d like them.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Mrs. Wolfe is in the library,” he explained.

“Who is out at the stables?”

“Oh, that’s Craig.”

“Craig?”

“He’s the horse carer. He and his wife, June, moved into the guest house. June’s a sweetheart. She’s a retired nurse.”

“Is she?”

A retired nurse. Hmm, how interesting. Stella had been dead set against having a nurse here, and yet Craig’s wife happens to be a retired nurse.

“Yeah. She’s young, too. In her mid-forties, but she was able to take an early retirement.”

“Wow, that’s great.”

Declan Wolfe, I had to give credit where credit was due.

Well played, sir. Well played.

As I walked down the hall, I was so busy being impressed by Declan’s checkmate chess move that I totally forgot I didn’t know where I was going.

I turned around and asked. “Oh, um, where is the?—”

Fred pointed. “Sorry, it’s actually in the west wing. Third door on the right.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

I turned and headed down the opposite hallway. When I got to the third door, I saw that it was open a crack. I walked inside and found Stella standing behind a large desk, looking like a boss babe. Her short hair was slicked back; she was wearing a white turtleneck, gold hoop earrings, a gold necklace, and black slim-framed glasses. There were what looked like a hundred swatches laid out on the massive desk in front of her.

“Good morning!” I greeted her as I walked inside.

When she looked up, I saw that her eyes were swollen and filled with tears. It was obvious she’d been crying.

“Are you…is everything okay?”

“Yes.” She wiped away her tears. “My grandson, he was in an accident.”

“Oh no. Is he okay?” I didn’t know Declan, and what I did know I wasn’t even sure I liked, but for some reason the news really upset me.

“He will be. He’s in the hospital.”

“I’m so sorry. I was supposed to email him some information, but I won’t?—”

“Why would you email Derek?”

“Oh, Derek.” I felt a sense of relief. “I thought you meant Declan.”

“Declan, no. Declan would never…he’s…” She shook her head without finishing the sentence.

It made me wonder what he would never do. What was he?

“What do you need to email him?” she asked.

“I send him daily updates.”

“Yes, that sounds like him.” She took a breath.

“I’m sorry about Derek. If there’s anything I can do, just let me know.”

“Thank you.” She blinked and rolled her shoulders back. “I spoke to the board on Friday, and the funding for the new line has been approved. Not that there was ever any doubt; it is my company, but it is nice now that we have the full support of the trustees.”

“Great.”

I’d done some research and was trying to play catchup. I now felt about five percent more qualified on the business side of things, but this was definitely going to be one of those thrown into the deep end and find out if I can swim sort of situations.

As we went through fabric texture, colors, and styles, I lost myself in the creative side of things. I was so engrossed in our session that I didn’t even notice my phone ringing.

“I believe that’s you, dear,” Stella pointed to my purse.

“Oh, sorry. Right.”

I pulled it out and saw a number I didn’t recognize. I was going to put it on silent, but Stella excused herself to go and get an iced tea.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Hi, is this Ashley Thompson?”

“Yes.”

“Hi, Ashley, this is Carmen from Married by a Matchmaker. We loved your tape and would love for you to come in for an interview.”

“Really?”

“Yes. In two months' time, you could be walking down the aisle marrying a stranger! How does that make you feel?”

Excited. Scared. Happy. Anxious. Sort of like I did when I looked at the toast my niece made, but there was no way I was going to say that.

Instead, I just went with, “Great!”