Page 38 of Pieces of Ash
“Absolutely not.”
“Upper floor only,” says Gus, looking up at the round window at the peak of the old house. “We’ll put Ash in the attic. There’s a bathroom up there.”
“But no kitchen,” Julian points out.
Jock crosses his arms over his chest. “She’ll only use the kitchen when you’re working.”
“Fuck this,” mutters Julian, running a hand through his hair and looking pissed. “Fine! But I stay rent free as long as she’s here.”
“Done,” says Jock, holding out his hand to shake on it.
Julian raises his sparkling hand and shakes with his landlord before putting his gloves back on and leveling an angry gaze at me. “Stay the fuc—” He pauses, his jaw ticking as he strugglesfor self-control. Finally, he manages to grind out: “Stay out of my way.”
“No prob—” I start to say, but he turns on his heel and stalks back to the barn, disappearing into its inky depths. The dog stares up at me for a moment, his hound eyes mournful, as though wishing he could apologize for his owner’s rough behavior. After a beat, he turns forlornly and lumbers after his master.
“That went well,” says Gus.
“Moody bastard,” mutters Jock.
Gus sighs as he flicks a lustful glance toward the barn. “But you must admit, he is sex on a stick, and then some.”
“What?” exclaims Jock. “Keep your eyes in your head, Gigi. That ass is not yours to tap.”
Gus shrugs. “But lovely to look at.”
“He’s straighter than Gisele’s hair after a Brazilian blowout.”
Chuckling as he crosses to Jock, Gus cups his partner’s bristly cheeks and pecks him on the lips. “Ain’t no harm in lookin’, P.C. Myheartandmy ass belong to you.”
Something inside me pinches hard as I watch this genuine display of affection between two humans who endured so much before finding each other…especially when they’re about to leave me with someone who so obviously doesn’t want me here.
As though he can hear my thoughts, Gus says, “You okay with this, lil’ Ash?”
I force a smile and nod. “It’ll be fine. I’m grateful.”
“You’re a good actress,” says Jock under his breath.
I take a deep breath, glancing at the barn before turning back to the happy couple. “I can handle him. He doesn’t want me here, fine. I have no problem staying out of his way. He’ll barely know I’m around.”
Gus’s eyes are troubled as he stares at me for a second, then nods. “That’s true. You’re good at flying under the radar, Ash. Maybe a little too good.”
“He won’t bother you,” says Jock, gesturing toward the house. Gus links his elbow with mine, and we follow Jock across the gravel driveway and up the steps.
Jock opens a squeaky screen door, and we step inside the coolness of his family’s old house.
Some places hold on to the evil or goodness of the people who have inhabited them, the planes of time helpless against the emotions that have ricocheted off walls and been quietly recorded and contained within a space.
I close my eyes and breathe deeply.
Chocolate chip cookies.
Laughter.
Christmas carols.
Tears.
Cinnamon.
