The Promise of Paradise (4 page)

“So you and Jen went
to school in the city?”

Ash nodded.

“College?”

“I was in law school.
She just finished med school. We were both looking for a roommate a
couple of years ago. Rest is history.”

“You’re kidding.”

She smiled. “Nope.”

He took a long pull on
his beer. “Excuse me for asking, but what the hell are you doing in
Paradise?” Shit, he felt about two feet tall next to someone who’d
just finished becoming a lawyer. And that blonde – med school?
Really?
Can't ever tell what's inside someone just by looking,
he reminded himself.
You should know that better than anyone.

She gazed across the
street. “I needed a change of scenery.”

He laughed before he
could help himself. “Well, you sure got one here. We’re only a
hundred miles from Boston, but it’s a different world, in case you
haven’t noticed. Half the people in Paradise have never even been
to Boston.”

Ash’s chin twitched,
and she looked defensive. “Well, it seemed as good on the map as
any other place. I just wanted to get away for awhile.”

Eddie finished his
slice and reached for another. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a
great town. Just don’t see many city girls here, that’s all.”
He paused. “So you going back in the fall? Got a job waiting for
you?”

She shrugged a sort of
yes. “Couple of my siblings are attorneys.”

“Ah. Runs in the
family?”

“I guess.” Her
voice dropped.

Eddie rested one wrist
on his knee, dangling his empty bottle. “I gotta say, you don’t
sound very excited about it.”

She sighed. “Ever
since I was a little girl, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to
do. College, law school, work my way up to partner by the time I turn
thirty, and then run for public office. Maybe end up in Congress.”

Eddie stared, his mouth
around a slice of pizza but forgetting to chew. Who the hell was this
woman?

Ash went on as if the
expression on his face hadn’t changed in the least. “Turns out,
that was more what my parents wanted me to do.” She scratched her
arm. “Truth is, I don’t know what I want. I have a cousin who’s
running for office in the fall and can’t wait for the fight.” She
grimaced. “But some things happened in the last couple of months
that made me think twice about that. I don’t think I’m cut out
for a life in politics.”

Eddie watched
indecision trek across her forehead and down to the corners of her
mouth. Law school grad or not, his housemate looked as uncertain
about the future as half the people he knew. “You know, you don’t
have to decide your whole life tonight. Or even this summer.”

“No? Tell that to my
father.”

“Ah, pressure from
the parents.” Eddie nodded.

“What about you? Did
you always want to fix cars?”

“Oh, yeah.” He
cracked open another beer. “I was born for it. I’ve always known
it. Used to drive my mom crazy, taking apart the vacuum cleaner, the
lawn mower…” He chuckled and let the memories wash over him, good
ones this time. “The minute I turned sixteen and bought my own
beat-up Chevy, I knew what I wanted to do. It’s like breathing to
me.” He leaned back. “Maybe I’ll open my own shop someday, hire
a couple of guys to work for me. That’s all I’ll need, that and a
house with a garage big enough for three or four of my own.”

“You really know what
you want, huh?”

“Guess I’m lucky.”

Ash didn’t speak for
a while after that, and Eddie wondered if he’d offended her
somehow. He hoped not. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d
had a real conversation with a woman. He realized with surprise that
he liked just talking to her, liked listening to her pause over her
thoughts and choose her words instead of letting them spill from her
mouth without meaning like so many other women he knew. Sitting up
here near the trees, talking with someone who wasn’t trying to
impress him, felt good. For once, he wasn’t thinking about how soon
he could kiss her, or what would happen next. The now was all that
mattered, talking to her and watching the color of her eyes change as
she listened to him. He liked it.

Eddie let his eyes
drift shut, basking in the leftover heat that still hung above them.
Ever since The Accident he felt chilled, even in the warmth of
summer.
The Accident.
He always thought of it spelled with
capital letters, T.A., like B.C., which he guessed was sort of
fitting, since it had split his life in two. Every memory he had was
catalogued either Before The Accident or After The Accident.

Life without regret:
Before The Accident. Staying out all night and going to work with a
hangover the size of Colorado: Before The Accident. But after?
Sleepless nights, aches that never ceased, and an enormous gulf
between him and his parents. Even three years later, Eddie’s
ankles, and the scars on his face sometimes, throbbed in the cold
weather. And the nightmares, of course, had stayed with him, once
he’d finally been able to sleep at all.

He shook his head and
swallowed deeply. Though he tried to will it away, a bright green
light began to shine against the back of his eyelids, and his heart
started its familiar racing.
Not here. Not now. For one day, I
want to forget.
He swallowed again, but the racing continued, and
shattered glass roared in his ears. He reached up and pinched the
bridge of his nose. He counted to ten and tried to ignore the voices
that screamed above the glass. No words, just voices lost in pain.
Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Please stop. Please.

After a long minute,
his heart slowed. The green light faded into the recesses of memory,
and the agony of sound disappeared. His pulse returned to almost
normal. Eddie dropped his hand back into his lap and opened his eyes.

Ash was staring at him.

“You okay?” Her
voice, soft and low, crept across the porch. She didn’t press,
didn’t ask him what was wrong, like people always did. Of course,
she didn’t know about the accident, and he figured she was about
the only person in Paradise who didn’t. Still, she didn’t get
nosy and pry. She just sat and studied him, concerned.

Eddie nodded and tried
to find a smile. “Yeah. I’m fine.” Yet a strange feeling of
déjà vu raised the hairs on the back of his neck. His housemate,
this person he’d just met, reminded him of someone he’d known
years ago. He couldn’t remember who. But he suddenly felt better
than he had in a long, long time.

Ash tucked the
Paradise
Chronicle
under one arm and locked her door. She skipped down the
steps and then paused for a minute in front of Eddie’s apartment.
Yesterday she’d passed it a few times as she carried the rest of
her things upstairs, and it had only watched, a solid brown door with
nothing but quiet behind it. Today, though, it studied Ash as she
stood there. It hid possibilities, ones she wanted to know more
about.
Maybe I should say hello. Say thanks for last night.
She raised her hand to knock.

He’s different
somehow.
She thought Eddie West would be like most other
good-looking guys she'd known, interested in himself and not much
else. A memory of fraternity brothers tossing around a football and
grilling on the quad during her undergrad days flashed into her mind.
Eddie looked like a Sigma Chi, strong and masculine, the kind of guy
who dated a different girl each week and won over his professors’
hearts with a wink and a smile. Sigma Chi brothers didn’t date
girls like Ashton; they asked them for class notes or directions to
the library. Then on Friday nights, they shared their drinks and
their beds with blushing sorority girls or dark-eyed, mysterious
graduate assistants who drank port and read Eliot.

Eddie had mentioned
that he’d gone to tech school for a couple of years, opting to work
on cars full-time as soon as he turned twenty. Okay, so he wasn’t
really like a Sigma Chi, not formally educated anyway. Still, there
was something about him, something about the way he watched her with
thoughtful eyes, that made Ash suspect he had more intellect and
common sense than half the people she’d met at Harvard.

That’s why I have
to be careful, keep my distance. I can’t let him find out who I am.
I can’t let anyone.

She let her hand drop away from his
door. He’d probably gone to work, anyway. She hadn’t heard him
leave, but to her surprise she’d slept well, a long eight hours
without waking once. Stepping onto the porch, she glanced down at the
classified ads. She’d found three possibilities this morning and
circled them in red ink, a declaration of her decision to stay in
Paradise, at least for now. She’d figure out how to explain that to
her parents when the time came.

“
Waitress needed immediately for busy jazz club. Experience
helpful but not necessary. Apply at Blues and Booze, 53 Main Street.”

Paradise had a jazz
club? A busy one? Ash smiled. She’d spent a couple of years
sloshing coffee at the campus java joint; did that count as
experience? She left her car at the curb and decided to walk. Three
blocks later, the numbers on Main Street crept from forty-one, Lana’s
Plus Palace, to forty-five, a used bookstore, to forty-nine, Lou’s
Sub Shop.
Oh, right. Eddie mentioned this place last night.

Ash slowed and peered
into Lou’s front window. A solitary cook in a stained white apron
stood behind the counter, rolling dough. In front of him, a display
case showed row upon row of deli meats, cheeses, and colorful salads.
Her mouth watered, and she decided she’d stop by on her way back
and pick up some lunch.

The sandwich shop sat
on the corner of Adams Street, an alley barely wide enough for one
car. Still, accustomed to busy Boston avenues, she glanced both ways
before crossing it. On the other side, she found herself in front of
a tall, narrow-fronted building with smoky windows. “Blues and
Booze” read the neon sign above the door. She shaded her eyes.
“Eleven to midnight,” announced a paper sign in the window.
Someone had scrawled “Help wanted” beside the hours.

She checked her watch
and reached for the doorknob.

“Hello?” The word
echoed in the space and fell away. To her right, a long bar stretched
halfway across the room, ending at a curved doorway. Beyond the arch
of the doorway opened another, larger room, draped in shadows. Chairs
sat upside down on tabletops, skeletons in the darkness. At the far
end of the restaurant she spied a thin strip of yellow underneath yet
another door.

“Hello?” she called
again and took a few more steps inside. This time the door in the
dining room swung open, and a thin figure emerged.

“We’re not open
yet.” A male voice, hoarse and curt, broke the stillness.

“Oh.” She looked at
her watch again. “I thought you opened at eleven.”

The man walked toward
her. Narrow-faced, with a chapped nose and black eyes, he peered at
Ash and coughed. A navy blue apron was tied over wrinkled khaki pants
and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Yellow teeth crowded
into a crooked row behind thin lips. Ash’s stomach crawled into her
throat, and she took a step backwards.

This was a mistake.
Definitely a mistake.
She wasn’t cut out for a job in a place
like this, a pampered girl from Boston’s west side, and she knew
it. Who was she kidding? She’d call home this afternoon and ask for
money, deal with her parents’ anger and disappointment somehow.

“Sorry,” she said.
“I’ll come back later.”

“No, wait,” he
said, and this time his voice was kinder. “You here for the job?”

She hesitated.

“Listen, you got any
experience at all, you’re hired. Hell, you don’t got any
experience, I’ll probably hire you. Got no luck finding help in the
summer when the college kids go home.” He untied his apron and
tossed it onto the bar. “So?” He pulled himself onto a barstool,
lit a cigarette and waited.

Ash took one more look
around and swallowed what little pride still hid in her heart. “Yes,
I’m here about the job.” She hoped he wouldn’t try to shake her
hand in hello. She could only imagine where his had been. Thankfully,
he only nodded and blew a long stream of smoke toward the ceiling.

“Great. You ever work
in a restaurant before?”

“Sort of. I worked
behind the counter at a coffee shop for a couple of years.”

The man took a long
draw on his cigarette and considered. “Okay. What’s your name?”

“Ashley Kirtland.”
It became a little easier, every day, to say the made-up name. “Ash.”
She hoped he wouldn’t ask her for a reference. She could only ask
Jen to lie for her so many times this week.

“Marty Evers. You
want the job, come back at five tonight. I got another sorta-new
girl, been here about two months. She’ll show you the ropes.” He
sucked at the cigarette until it was a reddened stump between his
fingers. “You available full time?”

Ash hadn’t thought
about that. Did she really want to spend forty hours a week in this
place? “Days or nights?”

“Some of both.
Course, you make more money at night. Tips ain’t so good during the
day.”

“That’s okay. Yeah,
I’m available full time.” What the hell. It would keep her mind
off the messiness of the rest of her life.

“Good.” Marty
grabbed his apron and retreated back toward the kitchen. “Five
o’clock,” he repeated.

“Five o’clock,”
Ash agreed. She ran one finger along the dark wood of the bar. She
needed a job. She needed to pay rent without asking her father for
help or dipping into her trust fund. What difference did it make
where she worked? It was only for a couple of months, anyway.

Your parents are
going to kill you.
Jen’s words, as clear as if her best friend
had walked into the bar and stood beside her, echoed inside Ash’s
conscience. It was true. A Kirk daughter, hauling trays of food
around a seedy jazz club? She’d be the disgrace of the neighborhood
if anyone found out back home. Well, maybe not. Her father had been
filling that role the last few months. Not sure she could top his
fiasco unless she started working the red light district.