Page 72 of You and Me, For Real
“Only a hundred times.”
“Wasn’t this made before you were born?”
“Barely, but that fact is inconsequential. This movie is timeless. Every woman needs to see this film in her lifetime.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Wow, high praise. I guess I have to watch it now for career research?—”
Before I finish my sentence, she’s already pressed play.
“Come on, Teddy.” She pats her blanketed lap. He hops up and settles half on her stomach and half on her side. She turns to me and winces. “I’m sorry. Is this okay? I kind of forgot where I was for a second.”
“Of course, I want you to make yourself at home.”
Even in the dim lighting, I can see her cheeks are pinker. “Thank you.” She faces the TV screen, where instrumental music plays and a woman begins narrating.
I study Ashton’s expression from my peripheral. A soft smile plays on her lips, her eyes slightly crinkle in the corners as she absentmindedly pets Teddy. His eyes slowly droop closed. I have a feeling I’m witnessing a common occurrence between the two of them. The thought gives me a sense of happiness. After her chaotic and stressful day, she’s allowed herself some measure of peace. The idea that I have had a small part in that gives me more pride than any accolade could.
It feels good to take care of someone else for a change.
Especially someone as deserving as Ashton—always caring for others. Her words from earlier filter back to me. The public’s perception of me shouldn’t matter so long as the people closest enjoy me forme. I only wish Dad saw it that way.
She’s right about Mom, too. I never call her. Relationships are a two-way street. If I want to have a connection to her, I have to put in the effort. It’s not fair for her to reach out to me all the time.
As the movie progresses, Ashton sinks further into the couch, her head coming to lie completely on the armrest. Her eyes blink more and more slowly.
“Do you think you’re like the prince?” Her voice is so soft, the question so slow, I’m not sure she’s even fully aware she’s asked it out loud.
“What do you mean?”
She yawns. “He feels restricted by his obligations to the kingdom. His parents dictate his life. Kind of like you with your career? And how your dad treats you?”
I’m a little confused, but I reply softly, “Uh huh,” prompting her forward.
“You need a friend. Like DaVinci. Someone to tell you it’s okay to let go of all those obligations and expectations.”
My lips quirk to the side, thinking she’s being facetious.
“Life can be so lonely without someone.” Her eyes drift closed.
Her offhand statement pierces something inside me.
Is she right? Am I allowing Dad to dictate my life too much? I’ve always followed what he says for the sake of my career. Has his control gone too far into my personal life? It’d be nice if my father actually acted like a dad, and my career was just a job that didn’t define me.
I look over to the playpen of pups asleep on top of one another and then to Roxy resting peacefully in her bed. She’s got some internal wounds that won’t heal overnight, but in time, with continuous love and affection, she’ll learn to trust me completely.
I turn my gaze to Ashton. Just maybe, we too can help heal a part of each other we didn’t realize was broken.
The credits begin to roll across the screen, darkening the room even further. Ashton’s breathing has slowed, telling me she’s fallen asleep. I hate to disturb her, but I can’t leave her on the couch. She’ll have one heck of a crick in her neck tomorrow.
I stand, and Teddy’s head lifts from Ashton’s stomach. “It’s okay, boy. I’m going to put her to bed. You can come too.”
At the word “come,” his ears perk and he hops off the couch. His sudden movement makes Ashton moan and shift slightly.
I lean toward her and whisper, “I’m gonna move you to the guest room so you’ll be more comfortable, okay?”
She mumbles something like, “Mm-hmm.”
I take that as a yes and scoop my hands underneath her knees and behind her back. Her petite, lithe form is like nothing in my arms. Her head plops to the side, landing with a thump on my chest. I tilt my chin downward to encase her head and prevent it from jostling. Her floral scent invades my nostrils. I indulge myself by inhaling deeper.
