Page 44 of Surviving the Break
I washed my hands at the sink and followed her instructions. “Ash has nightmares.”
“Yes, well, Benji’s death was the one thing too big for Ash to let go of. Especially when he had to watch Damon suffer every day. His nightmares were his way of saying to Damon, ‘I’m with you, and I won’t leave you alone in the dark.’ Ash sees it as his small price to pay.”
After we reshaped the dough according to her specifications, she buttered the bottom of the baking sheet while I spread out the biscuits for baking. “Many people would assume that being friends with Damon would leave Ash damaged in some way,” I said.
She paused to look at me, resting her hip against the counter, careful not to touch anything with her floured hands. “Ash would never admit this, but being in constant contact with someone that had it worse than him helped to keep his life in perspective. Damon didn’t cause Ash damage. He taught him to be grateful. And that is where Ash’s only source of guilt lies. He flourished in the face of Damon’s tragedy.”
“But all it would take is a few words from Damon to free Ash of that.” I suppressed my surge of anger.
“Damon would’ve had to feel something other than rage in order to do that. He was incapable of it.”
“Well, now he probably can.” Ash’s nightmares bothered me more than I let on to him. They’d gotten more infrequent since I’d been around, but I wanted them gone completely.
“Yes. I predict that time will come. Like my mother always said, ‘It won’t come until it gets here.’” She washed her hands and dried them on her apron, slipping the biscuits into the hot oven.
“It’ll happen when it’s supposed to,” I inferred.
She patted my cheek. “That’s right, baby.”
Seeing Ash through the eyes of his mother served as a propeller toward wanting change. I left there inspired by the fact that, while my pain pulled me down, Ash’s pulled him up.
18
ASH
Ireturned to my office at the hospital after checking on a patient to see the voicemail indicator flashing on my desk phone. I checked it immediately: no message from Max. I sat back in my chair, retrieving my cell phone from my lab coat, and, just like five minutes prior, no text messages or voicemails.
Max’s behavior turned odd after dinner with my mother. Monosyllabic text replies. Popping into the clinic to say hello and dashing off again with little more than a kiss and a wave. Sporadic phone calls that ended as soon as they began. Lunch in the hospital cafeteria that at best could be called fleeting. I’d asked about his plans for the day, and he stuffed the last of his sandwich in his mouth before mumbling something about Pete and then dashing off.
Maybe dinner was too soon. When I called him on it, he told me it couldn’t have been further from the truth. I took him at his word. His attitude toward me had been fine otherwise. But now, after several sleepless nights without him, I needed answers. I dialed his number again, tapping my fingers against the desk as his phone rang. The call connected. “Hello? Max?” I pulled the phone from my ear and looked at the screen in disbelief when he hung up. My nostrils flared, but before I could call him back, the phone vibrated in my hand. A text message.
Max:Sorry, can’t talk right now.
I barely reeled myself in from throwing the phone against the wall.What is going on?If he needed some space, he could have said so. I was an upfront guy, and although I sympathized with what Max was going through and healing from, it was within my rights to expect a little more courtesy. We were grown men, for God’s sake. I laughed at myself.Get a grip, Ash. It is business hours; the man’s got a company to run.
A guys’ night out might be what I needed. I texted Damon to see if he wanted to grab a beer, then prepared to leave for the day. My phone jittered across the wood surface of my desk.
Damon: Pulling out of The Center’s parking lot. I’ll meet you at The Best Burgers in Town. And why the hell is Max so damn chipper today?
He saw Max today?
Ash: Where and when did you see Max?
Damon: Just now at The Center.
I dropped hard into my chair.
Ash: You saw Max just now at The Center?
Damon: I refuse to keep this conversation going if you plan on making me repeat myself.
Ash: Was he teaching a class?
Damon: No, he seemed mighty happy about something. He and Justin were giggling like hyenas when I left.
Ash: I’ll need a raincheck on that beer.
I grabbed my suit jacket from behind my chair and stormed out.
