Chapter 1: Gossip Girls
Spencer's POV
"Baby, I think you are trying to taunt me," I tell her, accusing her little eating technique with her tongue and the oysters we have ordered as being less than innocent.
She continues loosing the slimy creature away from the shell with her tongue, keeping her eyes focused intently on my own, never cracking a smile. As she succeeds in separating the oyster, she tilts her head back and let's the meat slide off the shell and into her waiting mouth. She swallows it down smoothly and licks her lips slowly.
"You know these are an aphrodisiac, don't you?" She raises one eyebrow as she takes another from the ice bath it is sitting in and leans across the table, holding it out to me.
"You learn that from Food Network too?" I tease as I take the oyster gently out of her hand, brushing her lightly with my fingertips. I have had so many lessons since her first asparagus tip so many years ago, and her continuing education on etiquette and fun food facts never failes to amuse me.
"Maybe…" she does not break from my stare as I squeeze a little lemon onto my oyster and follow with some cocktail sauce and horseradish.
"And I really don't think you need anything to increase your sex drive, darling." I say this matter-of-factly as my tongue finds its way around the edge of the shell.
She sits back and watches me intently, the lust in her eyes clear as I make sure to flick my tongue around the edge of the oyster, mimicking another movement I do with my tongue on something similar in texture.
We are in New York City, and Ashley is on tour for her third album. We have left Bo and Lyla with Nana and Pop, and they will spend a couple days with Grandma as well.
And I have flown in to spend a week with my wife, just the two of us, in our second favorite city in the U.S. And let me assure you…imitating cunnilingus on oysters is really pretty mild to what we've been up to since I arrived a couple days ago.
We are tucked away in the back of a dimly lit restaurant, in a corner booth. Obviously enjoying what I am doing to our appetizer, Ashley stands up and slides around so that she is sitting next to me in the booth, pulling me close to her and letting her fingertips run up the leg of my tight black skirt. Leaning in, she begins nibbling on my neck, murmuring something about how 'she wants me to eat her like I ate that oyster…'
"Ash…behave yourself. We're in public," I protest, though not really adamantly.
"Hey, it's not my fault. It's the oysters. I am telling you there is some chemical in them that makes it impossible to keep your hands off attractive women…" she continues nibbling on my neck, and trails up to the side of my mouth.
"Baby, why don't we finish these oysters, skip dinner, and go back to the hotel," I suggest through closed eyes as her fingers inch higher and higher up my leg.
"Mmmmm…." She kisses me firmly on the lips. "Ok, I like the sound of that, cause other than the rest of these oysters, I really just want to eat…" and her sentence is concluded by the feeling of her fingers grazing my panties, which are noticeably wet and really in need of being removed.
Pulling her hands back, she rises slowly and re-takes her seat across from me, smirking at the flustered state she left me in.
Shaking my head at her, I pick up another oyster. "Not fair…" I protest as I begin showing her even more clearly what I plan to do to her back at the hotel with this particular oyster.
"Yes, but that…THAT is REAL fair," she chuckles, shaking her head back at me.
There are two girls at a table not far from us, and as much as we are usually able to block the entire world out when we are together, they are talking too loudly for this quaint restaurant, and even though we are in New York, they both have the most annoying Southern California Valley Girl voices I think I have ever heard. And I have lived in L.A. for a long time now.
Ashley rolls her eyes at their intrusive loud voices and I smile at her, urging her to ignore them. Just then, we hear one girl loudly ask the other, "SO, have you like, heard the new Ashley Davies album?"
I widen my eyes at Ashley and she smirks, amused that they have no idea that, like, Ashley Davies is sitting with her back to them a few feet away. She puts one finger up to her lips as if hushing me, and cocks her head to the side, listening for what may come next.
"Yeah, it's pretty good. And you know she's, like, in town right now…" Girl number two offers this little tidbit as if she's a correspondent for Access Hollywood and has the inside track.
"Yeah, I wonder if we can still get tickets. I wouldn't mind seeing her. I mean, she's, like, pretty hot."
Ashley wiggles her eyebrows at me, and I try to stifle my laughter as to not interrupt this little exchange.
She is certainly enjoying the attention…especially the flattery.
"Well, yeah, but she's totally married. And do you know she has, like, two kids?"
I nod my head at Ashley, pursing my lips together thoughtfully, pretending to be learning these useful facts these girls are sharing with one another one by one.
"Yeah, that's pretty crazy. I mean, didn't she have, like, the most screwed up childhood?"
I see Ashley's face drop a little, and I shake my head at her, finally starting to urge her to actually ignore this conversation. But it's too late.
"I mean, her parent's marriage was some sort of disaster and she was raised by nannies or something, and then her dad, like, died…"
The light in Ashley's eyes is quickly fading and I reach out desperately to grab her hand.
"I mean, you have to feel sorry for those kids. Seriously, how can she, like, be a mom after that fucked up childhood."
I want to scream, and seeing Ashley's previously giddy mood destroyed and the hurt displayed all over her face, its all I can do to not stand up and chuck the rest of my oysters at their little table.
As if on cue, the waiter appears and pulls a pad from his apron. "Ladies, are you ready to order?"
"No, actually we will just take the check. Thank you, though," I tell him politely as I give Ashley's hand a gentle squeeze. I see her attempt to smile at me but her big brown eyes are in another place.
I quickly pay the check and pull her from her chair, giving her a short but tender kiss on her lips. "Come on baby, I am still very hungry…" I promise her, trying to get my Ashley back…you know, the one who was giving oral sex to an oyster for my viewing pleasure a few moments ago.
She smiles again, a little more sincerely as she grabs her purse. I start toward the door but turn to find she is not behind me.
No, she is standing in front of two very surprised young women. I cannot hear what she is saying so I move back towards her, straining my ears somewhat.
"So, did you ladies, like want an autograph or something?" she inquires innocently in her best valley-girl impersonation.
On girl cannot speak, and I assume she's the one with all of the parenting knowledge. The other nods slowly, completely dumbfounded, as she pulls Ashley's cd from her purse and removes the cover.
Pulling a pen from her purse, Ashley leans over the table and writes something on the corner. Placing the pen back in her purse, she smiles widely.
"Ladies, have a really good night. Always nice to, like, meet my fans."
And with that, she turns towards me, a look of triumph on her face, that sparkle back in her eyes. I shake my head as I take her hand and we exit the restaurant.
Walking hand-in-hand down the strews of new York, I am torn between finding out what she wrote on Valley Girl #2's cd cover and telling her what a wonderful mother she is to our children. Deciding I am going to broach both subjects, I stop in the middle of the street and pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her waist.
"What did you write to your little fans, babe?" I ask her, the amusement already present on my face because I know my wife and I am sure she is about to tell me something that is going to remind me of how funny I think she is.
"Oh nothing. I just signed her cd cover with 'Ashley Davies, World's Greatest Mom." She looks at me seriously as if that is a common autograph for her young rocker fans.
I laugh out loud at this, as predicted, and pull her lips to mine. Letting this kiss linger a bit, I pull back and smile at her, still amused by her antics. "Not very good PR you know?" I scold her gently.
"I don't need fans like that," she says flatly and I nod in agreement.
"You know you ARE, right?" I continue as I stroke her check with my thumbs.
"What?" She inquires, as if she's forgotten what we were JUST talking about.
"The world's greatest mom. Well, mommy…" I correct myself, smiling lovingly at her.
"Oh yeah, you think so?" she smirks and I nod again, completely seriously and honestly. "Well, thank you, baby. And you are definitely the world's greatest mommy," she replies, just as honestly.
"Thank you, babe. So you're gonna forget all about what those stupid girls said, right?" I implore seriously, almost lecturing her.
"What? Oh, yeah, sure. They don't know what they are talking about," she mumbles.
But I am not convinced.
…
There was a profound change in Ashley after that dinner. And not towards me necessarily, but if affected me nonetheless. There was a pointed shift in her parenting style, and I know exactly what she was doing. I just wish I had known better at the time how to deal with it.
Ashley had always been a bit of a push-over with the kids, and she was certainly maybe a little more of the "cool mommy", she still had limits and an amazing balance between the slightly firm disciplinarian and the total blast she always is.
But after that night, it was if Ashley was terrified that anything she did would cause our children to think she didn't love them. She never said that, but that's how she acted and I know Ashley well enough to know exactly what was going on.
I tried to talk to her about this a few times, but I just didn't try hard enough. In fact, instead of REALLY trying, I let if eat away at me, irritate me and even infuriate me.
Flashback
"Ok, my budding rock star, show me a G." Ashley and Bo are in the living room and she is giving him another guitar lesson. Bo has been wanting to learn for years and Ashley announced a few weeks ago that she thinks he is old enough to finally hold a smaller guitar and play some easy chords.
I hear a shaky G, and then applause as Ashley rewards our son for his practice.
"Yeah…that's it little dude. That's a G!" I hear them smack hands, and have to smile at her enthusiasm and constant encouragement.
Lyla is in bed, which actually is exactly where Bo SHOULD be. I look at the clock and see its nearly 10:00. Trying to stifle the irritation that is rising in my body I make my way into the living room to inform my wife and son that the lesson is over for tonight.
As I walk towards them, I hear Bo excitedly request, "Mommy, play Howse with No Name! Pweeese!?"
Our little man is becoming quite the classic rock connoisseur, much to both of our delight. And boy does he love 'Horse with No Name.' I mean, what 6-year old requests Crosby Stills & Nash over the Jonas Brothers or some shit like that?
"Yeah, good choice my man!" she replies as she begins strumming energetically the intro to his favorite song. I stand and watch for a few minutes, and try to contain my amusement as she hits the chorus and Bo joins in enthusiastically to the only part he really knows the words to.
"You see I went to tha desat on a howse with no name, it felt good to be out of tha wain, cause in tha desat you cant wememeber yo name, cause thewye ain't no one for ta give you no shame, LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!"
He always shouts the La La's and it's actually pretty hilarious.
I allow them to finish their song before interrupting. "Hey, time for bed buddy," I inform him as he turns to look at me with wide, blue eyes.
"But Mama! We was just gonna pwactice my c's," he whines.
"Yeah, Mama, you can't interrupt a jam session, man," Ashley joins.
I look at her disapprovingly. "A…jam…session…MAN?" I repeat, displaying my lack of approval in the way she has chosen to talk to her wife.
"Alright, alright, sorry, but come on, we're just getting warmed up," She continues with the maturity and responsibility of our six-year old son.
"Yeah, Mama, pwease! Just a little longer?!" he begs, his blue eyes becoming even more desperate.
"Son, its over an hour past your bedtime. I've let you stay up plenty late enough." I feel myself getting angry more quickly than I normally would. Especially since he's not exactly misbehaving. Just simply feeding off his Mommy's poor example. More sternly I tell him, "Now get upstairs and brush your teeth. We'll be up to tuck you in in a few minutes."
"Awww, Mama!" he begins to protest again, but I cut him of.
"BO, NOW!" I point at the stairs and my face tells him this conversation is over.
Shaking his head he climbs off the couch and sets his guitar in its little holder next to Ashley's. He looks at Ashley, and I swear he is searching for her to 'back him up.' I feel my cheeks grow red as she shrugs her shoulders at him and rustles his blonde mop.
"Get on up there, dude. We'll be up in a second." She smiles gently at him and shrugs, yes SHRUGS her shoulders again.
He starts up the stairs and she places her guitar in her own holder, and then turns to me, a goofy look on her face.
And that goofy face disappears instantaneously when she sees the un-goofy look on mine.
"Uh…hey babe," she stammers as she starts towards me, clearly unsure as to what might happen next.
"Don't," I tell her flatly as I turn towards the stairs.
"Spence, hey, wait a sec," she pleads as I stop and turn to her. "Hey, I'm sorry about that. It's just that we get into our lessons and.."
"Ashley, you know what, I get it. And I couldn't love more that you and Bo can share the music thing, but here's the problem," I explain, trying to keep my voice down. "First, its not like I don't ever let him stay up and jam with you. I always do, and then he's tired and sometimes we hear about it from his teacher, and it's just getting out of control." My hands a face are a bit animated but I am succeeding in keeping my tone low. "And then I look like the bad guy, Ash. Bo doesn't get that I let him stay up past his bedtime way more often than he should. All he gets is that I am constantly the one telling him when its time to go to bed." I finish and take a deep breath, closing my eyes in exasperation at the realization that the volume of my voice grew exponentially during the end of my speech, and I inwardly curse myself for allowing it to do so.
These are they types of arguments we are lax in with our 'no fighting in front of the kids' rule. So long as we were not screaming, we have been allowing these little scuffles to slide right around that promise we made six years ago…and I hate it.
"Ok, ok, I'm sorry. But its not like it happens all the time," she argues softly, trying to close the distance between us.
"Yes, it does," I assure her bluntly as I turn up the stairs.
I still need to go tuck my son in and kiss him goodnight, and make sure he doesn't hate me like I think he does during times like these.
"I'm sorry Spence…" I hear her whisper as I reach the top of the stairs and turn the corner.
I know you are, Ash, I sigh to myself.