Soaring (61 page)

The next day, late morning, I knocked on Ash’s door.

“Yeah?’ she called.

I opened it and stuck my head in, seeing her on her side in her bed, earbuds in, book open in front of her, still in her shapeless PJ’s, thus no shower.

At her dad’s call, she’d come out for breakfast, ate it with us, then went right back in.

“Hey,” I started. “We’re about to go outside to toss around the Frisbee. It’s chilly but it’ll be fun. Wanna join us?”

“Naw,” she replied. “I’m into this book and I’m almost done.”

I looked to the book she was reading and saw this was not a lie.

I looked back to her. “Okay, blossom. But you get done, come and join us if you feel like it.”

“Okay, Amy. If I feel like it.”

She wasn’t coming.

“Right. Hope to see you outside.”

She didn’t reply.

“Enjoy the book,” I bid her.

She nodded, touched her iPhone likely to restart her music playing and looked back down at her book.

Since I wasn’t blind, my eyes again took in her room before I closed the door. But when the door latched, a thought came to me.

My daughter, too, had a pretty little girl room (hers had been peaches and pinks). Starting at eleven, she’d begun begging for an update, and because I was me, but also because we were in the first throes of divorce, by the time she hit twelve, I’d given it to her.

This thought made me move down the hall. I saw Cillian’s door partially open, knocked, didn’t get an answer, so I stuck my head in.

Seeing it for the first time, I learned he’d had a bent toward careening down the highway to the danger zone even prior to seeing
Top Gun
. I knew this from the motif of airplanes that was in his room.

But it was little kid airplanes for a little boy. They weren’t cool. They were primary colors and cartoony.

His room was also untidy but nowhere near the mess of his sister’s.

I pulled my head out and moved swiftly down the hall to the back room where Mickey was standing alone behind the sectional, an MFD sweatshirt on to go out and play Frisbee, but eyes aimed to the college football game on TV.

“Hey, where’s Cill?” I asked.

He looked to me. “Bathroom. Ash coming?”

I shook my head.

His handsome face turned worried and his eyes drifted to the hall.

I got close. “Before Cill comes back, can I ask something?”

He looked back to me and invited, “Shoot.”

I got closer. “It’ll be asking a lot, honey. And you can say no.”

“Is it about Ash?”

I nodded.

“Then shoot.”

Yes, worried.

But such a good dad.

I nodded again and spoke. “When I went in to talk to her, I noticed she still had her Aisling-as-a-little-girl decoration in her room under all that mess. And I remembered when Olympia hit eleven she started wanting something more grown up. So I just wondered if you might have a teeny-tiny budget,” I lifted my hand to do a thumb and forefinger inch, “that we could use to update her room. Go to Target. Get a new comforter. Maybe a lamp or two. Buy some paint and she and I can paint her walls. Nothing extravagant, just a new look.”

“You think she hates her room?” he asked.

“I think she’s growing up and it might be nice she knows you have a mind to that. But mostly, I just want to see if I can get her excited about something.”

He appeared keen about this idea before that slid out of his features.

“Do it for one kid, babe, gotta do it for both. Can give you the money for Ash but with all that’s goin’ on, not sure I’d wanna push that to doin’ it times two.”

“I agree,” I replied. “But if she wants that and then Cill asks for it, you can tell him he can have it when he hits Ash’s age.”

“Good plan,” he muttered on a nod.

“So, can I suggest that? You can give us a budget.”

He looked to the hall again then to me. “Yeah, Amy. Good idea. Run with it.”

I smiled up at him.

He lifted a hand to wrap it around the back of my neck before he leaned into me and touched my mouth with his.

He moved back an inch and asked, “You gonna get your jacket?”

“Yeah.”

“Go,” he ordered.

Since he’d agreed to allow me to do some decorating, I decided not to take him to task for being high-handed and went to get my jacket.

* * * * *

Late afternoon, after Ash didn’t come out and play Frisbee, I was back at her door.

“Yeah?” she called at my knock.

I stuck my head in. “Hey. You finish your book?”

She clearly had or had given up. She was now on her stomach facing the foot of her bed, still in her PJ’s, and I could see on the small TV on its stand at the end that a movie was paused.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Any good?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she answered and gave me no more.

I stepped fully into her room, announcing, “Listen, your dad and Cill dragged the fire pit to the deck. They’re out getting firewood and hitting the grocery store. My mission is to start dinner. We’re going to have dinner and do s’mores outside later.”

“Sounds good,” she said.

At least that was something.

I tipped my head to the side and asked her, “Wanna help me make dinner?”

Her eyes drifted to the TV. “Kinda in the middle of this movie.”

I wanted to push.

I didn’t push.

“Okay, kiddo.” I then looked around the room trying to pretend it was nonchalantly before I turned back to her and teased, “Under the mess, your room is cute.”

She shrugged.

I shifted through the clothes and touched a daisy decal on the wall, continuing to tease, “Not sure Imagine Dragons goes with daisies.”

“Yeah, well,” she stated and stopped talking.

“Hey!” I cried, like the idea just struck me. “Bet we can talk your dad into updating this place.” I threw out a hand. “I’m almost done decorating my place and I’d love to help. Throw up some paint. Hit Target and get a new lamp or two. Make it Imagine Dragons worthy.”

She gave me no indication she found this exciting. “Not sure Dad’ll go for that.”

I moved slightly toward her. “He loves you to bits, blossom. And he knows you’re growing up because he leans on you to look after Cillian when he’s not around. I bet he’ll be happy to do it.”

“Seems like a lot of work and money when I don’t really care there’s still daisies.”

I studied her wondering if perhaps her decorations reminded her of her mother or if she worried about the state of her father’s finances and how much of a hit that would be if he did that for her.

I saw no emotion on her face, discomfort, hurt or even hesitancy.

She just didn’t really care.

What girl didn’t care about her room?

“Can I ask your dad anyway?” I requested.

She looked back to the TV then to me, making a mute point that she wanted to get back to her movie, and replied, “Sure. But I’m not really big on that kind of stuff.”

I wanted to know what she was big on, outside of losing herself in books, movies and music. Not that any of that was bad or unusual for a teenage girl.

It was just that I couldn’t use any of it to get in there.

Another idea struck me and I moved to her dresser. I ran a finger along a bottle tipped sideways and not righted, scoring a line through the dust.

Then I looked back to her and grinned. “See you’re not big on makeup either.”

“What’s the point?” she asked.

“I hear you,” I replied. “You’re so pretty, it really isn’t needed.”

Her eyes, having drifted away, shot to me.

Telling.

Sad and telling.

God, I needed an in!

I glanced at the makeup before looking back to her. “You’ve got a lot of it for not being into it.”

“Mom made a big thing of it when I turned fourteen,” she told me. “She and Dad agreed I could wear it when I did, so she took me out and bought me a bunch, had some of her friends over. They all showed me how to use it, made it into a party.”

“That sounds really sweet,” I said softly, and it did. Rhiannon had done that up right.

She shrugged again.

“Do you wear it when you’re at her place?” I asked.

“Not really,” she answered.

She was giving me nothing and I was beginning to feel like I was encroaching on her time and space, and maybe being a bit creepy, so I started to make my way to the door.

“Okay, then, enough chitchat, I gotta get on making dinner.” I stopped with my hand on the door and looked to her. “You get done with your movie, honey, jump in the shower and put on some clothes so you’ll be warm when we have s’mores time. And I hope it finishes early. I cook by myself a lot. I like to have company.”

I was a mom. I had kids. I was a master at subtle mom-guilt manipulation.

“’Kay, will do if it finishes early,” she said.

She wasn’t coming out until dinner. I knew it.

Even oblivious to guilt manipulation.

This was bad.

I beat back a disappointed sigh and instead smiled. “Right, blossom. Enjoy the movie.”

She nodded and looked back to the TV.

But being Ash, I didn’t hear it go back on until I’d shut the door.

* * * * *

An hour and a half later, after Mickey shouted dinner was ready then went back outside with Cillian to tend the fire, Aisling wandered out.

She was no longer in her PJ’s but she still hadn’t showered.

I said nothing about this and instead beamed at her. “Great news!”

She gifted me with her eyes twinkling and her lips quirking at my excitement before she asked, “What?”

“Your dad said we could redecorate your room. We don’t have a massive budget, but I’m sure we can get some paint, some new bedclothes, maybe some new rugs for the floor. Not that I know if you have rugs on your floor since I can’t
see
your floor,” I ended on a tease.

The twinkling stopped as she hauled herself up on a stool and replied without enthusiasm, “Cool.”

“So, when you come back from your mom’s, you wanna go out with me?” I asked.

“Maybe,” she answered. “I’ll let you know.”

“Ash—” I started but was interrupted when Cillian threw open the sliding glass door and did it speaking.

Or, actually, yelling.

“She lives!”

Ash didn’t have much of a reaction to that either, not even a retort to her brother’s teasing.

“You missed Frisbee,” he informed her, sauntering in, straight to his own stool.

“You’re the Frisbee king, Cill,” she replied. “I’m the movie queen.”

“Whatevs,” he muttered then looked to me. “Dinner ready, Amy?”

“It is, kiddo.” I looked between them. “You guys wanna help me with plates and stuff?”

“Sure,” Cill answered.

Aisling said nothing but she did slide off her stool.

“I’m gonna eat mine out by the fire,” Cillian announced.

“It’s freezing out there, honey. It’ll get cold,” I told him.

“I eat fast,” he told me.

This was true.

The sliding door opened again and I looked to it to see Mickey coming in.

His eyes went from me to Ash and back to me before he raised his brows.

I shook my head.

The worry slithered through his features again before he hid it.

We got dinner together. We ate it in front of the TV (except Cill, who ate his outside by the fire) and Mickey did this sitting close to his daughter instead of me. He also did it teasing her by bumping her foot with his or elbowing her until she cried out in a way she didn’t mean, “Stop it, Dad!” to which he replied fake innocently, “Stop what?” To that she gifted him with rolled eyes and a smile she tried but couldn’t hide, and as Mickey continued to do it, she started sighing audibly and heavily, but said no more.

It was cute.

But it didn’t work.

After dinner, we did the cleanup. Then everyone got bound up in jackets and scarves and we went out and made s’mores.

Aisling had three.

Then she went back inside to her room to watch a movie.

* * * * *

I lay naked in my tub leaned back against Mickey, who was, obviously, naked with me. He had his arms around me, his knees cocked beside me as I drifted the bubbly water with my hands and stared out to the sea.

It was Sunday. A Sunday where my hopes of trying new ploys with Aisling were foiled when she announced at breakfast that some of her friends wanted to go to a movie then do some hanging, and that one of her friends’ parents had agreed to do the carting around. Mickey said she could go.

The good news about this included Aisling showering before she went.

The bad news included me not being able to try new ploys.

Not long after, Cillian announced one of his friends wanted him over for a day of gaming, which also included his friend’s mom offering to come pick him up and bring him home.

Mickey agreed to that too but both his kids had the caveat that they were home for dinner so he could make sure they were both done with homework and ready for next week’s school. I figured he also agreed because he was losing them for a week and he wanted them home for one last dinner.

In the meantime, my kids had texted me and said they’d be over for dinner and to spend the night and Auden had added,
We’re staying until Wednesday, if that’s cool with you.

It absolutely was so I’d agreed.

This unexpectedly gave Mickey and me the whole day to be together.

But it was me who suggested we do it at my place and we do it naked.

I did not have to twist Mickey’s arm.

“Freaky, like we’re floating,” he muttered, his hand sliding soothingly up and down my side through the warm water.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” I asked.

“That Cameron guy knew what he was doin’,” he replied.

He did, which caused me some dejection because everything was pointing to the hopeful, marvelous fact that we were going to have a future together.

But that meant I’d lose Cliff Blue and I loved Cliff Blue.

However, I loved Mickey more than my house so I’d let it go.

“Thanks for trying with my girl,” Mickey said in my ear, his hand gliding through the water along my belly then back to curve again at my side.