Page 61 of The Happy Hour
She pushed open the door and sucked in a breath of crisp, rain-damp air. The water feature was bubbling away, competing with the pitter-patter of raindrops, and Jess took a step towards Ash, his shoulders a rigid, unyielding line.
‘Hey,’ she said gently.
He glanced at her then looked away. ‘Sorry. I just needed a minute.’
‘You’re so amazing with Felicity.’ She took another step forward, until her front was almost pressed against his back. ‘It must take a toll, though.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s not that.’
‘Can you tell me what it is?’
He cleared his throat. ‘I don’t... this isn’t about that.’
‘What isn’t aboutwhat?’
He turned around, and she saw that his eyes were red. She had no idea if he’d been rubbing the dust out of them, or if the water on his cheeks was raindrops. There was a tiny bit of purple fluff from the blanket caught in his stubble, and she reached up, teasing it out, smoothing her fingers along his jawline.
‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ he said.
Jess laughed quietly. ‘Are you kidding? My heart feels like it’s been pummelled. Poor Felicity.’
‘I know. But she’s open to working through it, so I think...’
‘If we commit to doing this for the next decade, we’ll make some progress? Maybe unearth the carpet in the living room?’
‘Accepting it, making the first move to face something, is the hardest part.’
‘You sound like you’re speaking from experience.’
Ash dropped his head, and Jess waited. The rain picked up its pace, and she could feel the ice-cold pellets on the back of her head, sliding down her neck. But she watched Ash, breath held, until he looked up.
‘I’d do this for the next decade,’ he said, ‘if it meant spending that time with you.’
Before she had a chance to process what he’d said, to come up with something to defuse the weight of it, he wrapped his arms around her. Instead of bending his head to kiss her, he dropped it onto her shoulder, burying his nose in her neck and breathing her in.
Jess ran her hand over his soft, wet hair and down his neck, and slid her other arm around his waist, pulling him tight against her. He was taller than her, but they fitted together perfectly: he felt so right tucked against her, both soft and solid, like Rodin’s sculpture of the kiss.
He pulled back eventually and murmured ‘thank you’ and then, ‘I need to go.’ He squeezed her hand before walking back into the house.
Jess followed him to the living room, and found Felicity folding up another blanket, this one red and green tartan. ‘I do wonder if the charity shop could make use of a few of these things,’ she told them.
Jess wanted to jump for joy, but Ash was calm and noncommittal when he said, ‘I expect they could.’ It was as if he’d wiped the last few minutes from his brain, tucked his hurt into a box. ‘We have to head off now, but do you want us to take the things we talked about?’
Felicity put the blanket down and gave them an anxious look.
‘Come and double check.’ Ash gestured for her to accompany him.
They went out onto the porch and, apart from a mug with a broken handle that she insisted she could use as a vase, she allowed them to take the handful of things with them.
‘You should come for afternoon tea, or for dinner one time,’ Felicity said, her hands clutching the skirt of her dress.
‘I’d love that,’ Ash assured her. ‘And I’m sure Jess will see you again soon.’
‘Of course,’ Jess said. She knew he meant that they should keep up the momentum, but she wasn’t sure she could do it without him, without his calm presence and his instinctive way of knowing exactly what to do.
They said goodbye, and she and Ash carried the broken items to the bins at the end of the road.
‘That went better than I thought.’ Ash glanced at his watch.
