Page 53 of Homesick

“Jesus Christ, Ash. I know it’s a small kitchen, but you can afford to give me some space,” I say cheekily.

“What’s going on between you and Blake?” she questions, not holding back for even a second. As a guidance counselor, Ashley knows how to get the information she wants and fast. She has no problem saying what everyone else is thinking. Well, I hope not everyone.

I tip my wine glass toward my lips and take a long sip before responding. I reply with a simple, “nothing,” before weaving around her to the counter where the food sits. The less I say, the better.

“Hmm, let’s recap, shall we? The last time I saw you and him in the same area, you were cursing his name while hosing cow shit off your ass. Now you’re showing up to my house together with weird-ass energy between you two.”

“Ashley Lynn, I’ve never heard so many curse words in the same sentence.” I decide to do what I do best and use humor to brush off very fair accusations. I can tell she’s not amused by my answer by the way she sternly snaps her hands to her hips.

“Listen, Ash, there’s nothing going on. You and I both know I would be an idiot to give him a second chance so please just drop it. Also, Chris is like five feet away and if he hears any of this conversation, there’s no telling how he’ll react.”

Ashley’s face changes as she realizes her husband is in the other room. She knows better than anyone how Chris felt about our relationship because she was the one he whined to the most about it. She throws a quick glance over her shoulder and then looks back at me with a caring warmth.

“Okay, fine. You know I love Blake and I think he’s great, but I also love you and I don’t want to see you get hurt again. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

I smile at her sentiment.

“I promise.”

* * *

Dinner is going well. A little too well. We’re talking like four old friends catching up and reminiscing over old memories. I have to restrain myself from looking over at Blake every time he laughs, or I feel him staring at him. I’m trying my best to act platonic.

“I beat you fair and square, Fisher. You’re just remembering it differently,” my brother says, beaming from ear to ear. Blake just shakes his head, and he laughs off whatever disagreement they just had. Just as he looks up, we make eye contact.

Over the years, I’ve learned how to translate just about every look Blake has. I’ve learned how to know if he’s having a bad day or if he’s bursting at the seams over something he’s excited about.

Sometimes I know what he’s trying to say before he even does, which is how I know how badly he wants to know if I’m okay. I would love to give him a reassuring smile, but that would give him false hope.

I quickly look back down at my almost empty plate and bring my spoon to a sad pile of soggy mashed potatoes. Ashley is good at many things, but cooking is not one of them. My pity party for one is interrupted by the chef herself.

“So, Blake, how is work going?”

“Pretty good. The doc has been letting me go on house calls by myself, so that’s been cool. I did almost get pummeled by a very angry bull the other day. That was a fun one.”

“I bet you’re excited to start school in the fall then,” Ashley says before picking up her drink and taking a long drag.

I sense a shift in the mood, so I test my luck and look at Blake again. He seems tense as he stares across the table at Ashley. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair before responding.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.”

“It’s going to be weird not having you around, but I’m proud of you man,” Chris says before patting Blake’s shoulder.

He flinches at the gesture which tells me this conversation is uncomfortable for him. I look across the table and see Ashley’s mood has shifted, too. It’s almost as if she’s taunting him.

“Wisconsin is a big move for you. I don’t think you’ve ever been that far from home before. Right, Blake?”

Ashley’s question is almost like a slap as Blake absorbs it from his end of the table.

He’s leaving.

I’m not sure how to feel about this new piece of information. I should be relieved that I won’t have to pretend like things can go back to normal between us, but instead I feel . . . sad? I feel like I’m losing him all over again. Even if he isn’t mine to lose.

I take a deep breath and push myself up onto my feet.

“I’m going to start clearing the table.”

I feel an intense need to get to a safe place where I can process all the bullshit that’s been thrown at me within a matter of hours. I need to be alone. Alone, I can sit with my feelings. Alone, I can figure out the best way to navigate these next few weeks with Blake. I just want to be alone.

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