There are moments that imprint themselves upon you and you never forget them – stuck on you like a brand, like what cowboys used to do to cattle.
And there are good ways to be branded, good memories that never fade away and they linger on you.
Like the first time Ashley heard her father play the guitar, whispers of some lullaby at the edge of her crib – faint but still vivid, Ashley can always pull that recollection up and it brings a soft smile to her lips.
Like the first time she put her fingers on piano keys, reluctant to do Christine's bidding… but finding aimless tunes within her own body and a sudden eagerness to let them out into the world.
Like hearing Dylan for the first time. Like the first time I felt the ocean on my legs.
Like… Spencer's laughter ringing in my ears, just like right now…
Ashley never gets bored, not talking to Spencer.
She wants to know about the girl's day or the girl's weekend. She wants to hear about Glen and Lori and Ricky's parties. She wants to hear about Spencer at school and Spencer at home.
Even Spencer at church!
Everything is endlessly fascinating about the girl from Ohio and Ashley wants to be an expert on Spencer.
If only that was a class I could go to… I might actually take school seriously!
And they are in love, blissfully and wonderfully in love with one another.
After Carol and after all her fears, Ashley Davies is head-over-heels in love with a girl all the way on the other side of the country – over the phone and in letters… Ashley is unmistakable in love.
And sometimes it shows too well, the mask slipping ever so slightly and Ashley wonders if everyone can see it.
Because it is another of those good things, one of the best things, and Ashley hates to hide it.
Aiden knows some of it, but not all. Kyla sometimes looks like she suspects, but Ashley doesn't answer veiled questions. Her father comments on occasion ('you seem pretty chipper these days' ) and Ashley just brushes it off. Christine… well, Christine doesn't say anything and Ashley likes it that way.
It is the bad moments, though – the ones you never see coming – they are the kind that push too deeply into your body and they wound you.
Like the first time Ashley heard her parents fighting and ran to her room, crying despised tears.
Like the first time Ashley slept with a boy, all at once important and a lie, painful for a multitude of reasons.
Like shoving a friend away just because I liked her too much. Like all the times I treated Kyla poorly and didn't care at all.
"Ash? You still there?"
"Yea, Spence… sorry, you've still got me…"
"I better still have you."
And the response is light and yet still caring – something only Spencer seems to do, letting Ashley know that there are no reprimands… only concern and compassion… and it cracks Ashley open a little more.
Every wall built, out of self-protection, is breaking down due to this girl from Ohio.
And Ashley doesn't fight it anymore.
I sound like all those silly songs I can't stand… but it is true, all of it… This girl is turning me into a big sap.
Ashley chuckles and Spencer, as if she cannot help it, giggles some as well.
"What's so funny?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Yep."
"Care to explain, Miss Davies?"
Spencer's voice sounds mockingly like a teacher and Ashley grins, wishing that she could reach out and find Spencer there… wishing she could reach out and place her hand against Spencer's face…
"I love you, Spence."
"Oh Ash… I love you, too… You are just so… so…"
As Spencer searches for words, Ashley wraps herself up in this warmth of affection. It is unlike anything else and she doesn't want it to ever end.
But the bedroom door opens and Ashley rolls her eyes (of course, just when I am enjoying myself), ready to deliver an order to whoever it is to leave and give her privacy while on the telephone.
The order dies in her throat, however.
Because Kyla is standing there, looking lost and make-up smeared along her face.
And the pounding of Ashley's heart goes from lively to terrified in a quick second.
"Kyla, what's—"
"It's… d-daddy… oh god, Ashley…"
And the world just kind of stops, right then and there, because it is one of those moments.
The one you don't expect and the one you dread and the one that will cut the deepest – the one that will leave some part of you hollow and shattered…
Spencer is saying her name, worry in that sweet voice growing more pronounced and Ashley knows she should answer – but she feels frozen and she is already crying silently and Kyla is shaking at the door.
"I've… I've got to go…" Ashley manages to whisper, finding it hard to talk due to a pressure on her chest – like when Kyla used to jump on her and sit on her, squealing with delight (we couldn't have been more than three or four and he loved to see us play like that) .
Like when she got hit full-on by a wave, getting dragged under and getting a good drink of seawater (the first time I went further out and he let go of my hand, told me this was the best way to learn how to swim).
"Ashley, are you okay? Please, what's going on?"
Spencer's voice is not concealing a thing now, it is frantic and Ashley trembles on her bed and Kyla is sobbing uncontrollably.
And even though the actual words have not been said, Ashley knows exactly what is going on.
She wishes with all her might for this to be a nightmare and to wake up, to turn back the clock and be back to talking on the phone with Spencer – not a trouble in the world, not a tear to be shed.
But Ashley knows what is going on and no amount of wishing will change it. No amount of denial can fix it – not with Kyla's heaving sadness, not with the cold fear settling in Ashley's bones…
"My father… my father is… Spence, he's…"
And Ashley cries in earnest now, throwing the phone down and tearing out into the hallway – past Kyla and ignoring her sister's plea for comfort – and she sees policemen in the foyer, sees Christine looking placidly fake and Ashley wants to scream until her lungs burn up.
She hears things over her own breathing, over her own world crashing down, a jumble of comments ('drunk and wet roads and possibly poor visibility') and it becomes more real, becomes more agonizing.
My father is dead. And he is not coming back.
*
Spencer walks to the right, almost coming into contact with her bedroom door.
Then she turns around and walks to the left, all the way to her window.
And she repeats the action over and over, only breaking the routine of her movements to go to the telephone – powder blue and serene – and then she just stares at it, receiver in the cradle.
She wants to call Ashley back. She wants to know what is happening all the way in California and what has caused that sound of… despair, total and utter despair… in Ashley's voice.
But it doesn't take much imagination to piece things together (I don't like to do that, to imagine what might be and then find things to be wrong… please, God, let me be wrong…) what has occurred.
With Ashley's halting sentence and the echoing of pain, Spencer Carlin knows that all the wishing in the universe won't make this go away.
A knock on the door startles her and Spencer finds her own hand at her chest, her breathing erratic.
Her father pokes his head around the edge and smiles, but it slowly drains from his face when he takes in the sight of his daughter.
I probably look stricken. I feel numb. What can I do? How can I help her? I'm all the way here… and she is out there, far away…
"Spencer, is everything alright?"
She could just make up something, about a grade on a test or about a new cheer. She could make up an even bigger story, fashion a tale about some unknown boy and her false feelings… but it is her father and he always understands and… and…
"A friend of mine is… I mean, I think… I think she's…"
It's like her mouth won't work and Spencer feels hot tears slip out of her eyes without her permission and her father is suddenly right there – he is holding her and 'shhhh'-ing her and rubbing her back.
And it makes her cry more, because her father is alive and well… while, in California, Ashley… my wonderful Ashley, the girl I love more than anything or anyone… has lost her father.
Spencer burrows into her father's chest, crying hard for a girl on the west coast and for the fact that she cannot be there – to be a shoulder, to be a rock, to just be there for Ashley.
"Life's so unfair…" Spencer croaks out and her father's lips graze the top of her head.
"I know it can seem that way, Spencer, but life is full of good and bad. What seems tough now will get easier, with time."
"But why? Why do the bad things happen to good people?"
Her father pulls back and studies her face and Spencer tries to cover up some of what she is feeling – but fears that she is laid bare, an open book that her father can surely read.
Where her mother is perceptive in all the dangerous ways – like she has eyes in the back of her head, knowing when any 'wrong-doing' is going on… her father is perceptive in a safer way, knowing when his children are muddled or scared, knowing when they need a firm hand or a gentle talk.
"How about you tell me what this is about and maybe I can help you with these questions? Over some cocoa?"
And there is her father – a full picture of the man Spencer so loves – kind and quiet, still recalling when a chocolate drink could fix all the problems with his son and daughter.
And right now, maybe he is right – because Spencer clings to him as they descend the stairs and go into the den.
Paula Carlin is at a baby shower, all pink and with gifts in tow. And Glen is with Lori.
So it is just the two of them and Spencer is so glad for that, not sure how she could stand any of this with her whole family around.
"My friend, my pen-pal… the girl I talk to on the telephone… I think something happened to her father. And I wish I could be there, you know, to help… or something. But I'm here, in Ohio and she is… she's all the way in California…"
Spencer says all of this while gazing into her mug, not daring to look up during this sort-of confession.
And she waits for her father to say… I don't know what he might say. Or what he might ask.
'Why do you care so much?' might be asked and how would I answer? Could I lie convincingly enough, even with my feelings so close? Could I ever pretend that I don't care about Ashley? That this isn't killing me…?
"Ah, so that's why the telephone bill is so high lately."
Spencer looks up and blinks, watching her father calmly take a sip of his hot chocolate and his eyes are nothing but warm and Spencer smiles – just a little bit – before taking a sip of her own drink.
"Just… talk to her when she needs you to, Spencer. Write her a letter tonight and tell her how sorry you are for whatever is going on. You know what the right thing to do is. And your friend—"
"Ashley. That's her name."
Her father nods and his lips quirk upward.
"…and Ashley will appreciate the fact that you care. It'll help her during this time."
Spencer puts the mug down and goes to her father, hugging him tightly – trying to let him know… everything, how much I love him and what his understanding means to me and that I never want to lose him, never want to disappoint him…
"It'll all be okay, Spencer." Her father's voice coasts over her ear and Spencer can't help but believe that he really means it – and not just about this particular conversation. But about so much more.
And maybe this is the lie that Spencer will end up regretting her belief in, the one where her father knows more than he says and doesn't turn her away…
But, for tonight, I'll take it.
"I love you."
"I love you, too, Spencer."
*
March 22, 1965
Dear Ashley,
I've sat here for an hour or more trying to think of what to write.
Or what to say if I called you right this second.
I'm not sure what is going on, but I know it must not be good. And I am so sorry!
Sorry that something bad has happened to you, to your father, to your family. Sorry that I can't be there to hold your hand or… or anything you'd need me for…
I'm just so sorry, Ash. So very sorry.
And all I want is to make things better for you. Tell me how and I'll do it.
I love you so much. Don't forget that and I hope it gives you strength… like your love does for me.
Love,
Spencer
*
TBC