XXXI. All Is Fair In Love
All Is Fair in Love is the property of Stevie Wonder.
"All Good Things Must Come to An End" is the property of Nelly Furtado. Portion of song appears in text.
All is fair in love, love's a crazy game
Two people vow to stay, in love as one they say
But all is changed with time, the future none can see The road you leave behind, ahead lies mystery But all is fair in love, I had to go away A writer takes his pen to write the words again That all in love is fair All of fates a chance, its either good or bad I tossed my coin to say in love with me you'd stay But all in war is so cold, you either win or lose When all is put away, the losing side I'll play But all is fair in love, I should have never left your side A writer takes his pen to write the words again That all in love is fair A writer takes his pen to write the words again That all in love is fairSunlight filters into the window, shining down on a table with bowls, plates, cups, and a couple cereal boxes. The oven is simmering, the ice maker is rattling, Ashley's feet in his huge slippers scuttle across the floor. It is the life he imagined, when they weren't together, when they were together. It all happens in front of Craig's eyes. Ashley, wearing one of his shirts, pours herself some coffee, sits across from him.
"When did you clean that shirt?" asks Craig, giving her a playful smile.
"This morning, when the washing machine was actually used properly," replies Ashley, smiling shyly.
Craig takes a carton and pours some white liquid over his cereal.
"Egg nog?" reads Ashley, arching an eyebrow.
"It's really good on cornflakes," says Craig.
"Gravy on fries, now this," laughs Ashley, shaking her head.
Craig smirks. "Don't make fun of my food preferences if all you're having is toast."
"And coffee," corrects Ashley, lifting up her cup. "And I wasn't making fun. Just remembering for whenever I go to the store."
"Going to the store? Wow. We're getting all domesticated, and boring, Ash," says Craig, smiling.
"Not that domesticated," says Ashley, curling a foot around Craig's under the table. "Last night, just a little wild."
"Are you playing footsie with me?" whispers Craig, chuckling.
"Maybe," teases Ashley. "My foot is definitely out of your slipper."
Craig blushes. "Okay, I need a distraction...before something happens. Like right now."
He gets up, turns on the radio.
"Prude," says Ashley, giggling.
"No, you did not just call me that!" exclaims Craig, walking to her.
Ashley puts her hands up protectively, but Craig starts to tickle her anyway. She squeals as Craig laughs, and somehow he manages to maneuver her onto his lap. The music stops playing, and the DJ clears her throat.
"Well, as many of you have heard, yesterday, in a startling turn of events, Jimmy Brooks dropped the sole custody suit and has agreed to joint custody for his daughter Leslie. Needless to say, it's a victory for Ashley Kerwin and her arm candy, Craig Manning."
"I'm your arm candy," says Craig, beaming at her.
"Shut up," says Ashley, lightly slapping his knee.
"We're here on the street, getting everyone's opinions on the results of this intense event. Hello. What's your name?"
"Hi, I'm Darcy. Darcy Edwards. I'm a weather girl," says a voice.
Ashley slaps a hand to her forehead. Craig laughs.
"What do you think of what happened between the case of Brooks versus Kerwin?" asks the DJ.
"Who? Oh, Jimmy and Ashley. Yeah, I know them. Leslie's going to benefit from having both of her parents in her life. And Craig's going to be a good stepdad. I heard they're going to make a Lifetime movie out of this. I think that's cool. Maybe I can play Ashley. She'd be okay with that."
"No, I wouldn't," says Ashley, more to herself than Craig.
"Awww, let her play you, Ash," teases Craig.
"Can you sing?" inquires the DJ. "Our sources say Miss Kerwin is an excellent singer."
"Yeah!" says Darcy, defensively, then starts to sing way off-key. "This song is the price for breaking my heart, should've written these words right from the start."
A dog barks constantly in the background.
"Mr. Nice Guy, oh oh oh ohhhhh, Mr. Nice Guy," continues Darcy.
"Make her stop!" someone shouts from afar.
"I'm not finished yet!" says Darcy. "I know the whole song, saw it in the Degrassi video archives. That and when I was crowned prom queen. Twice."
"Shut up!" says the same voice.
"Don't like me because I'm beautiful. I mean, don't hate me because I'm ugly. I mean...what was I talking about?" stammers Darcy.
"Nothing," says Ashley, getting up from Craig's lap and shutting the radio off.
Craig sighs, rises as well. "I have to go to the studio anyway. But first..."
He fetches a new spoon, puts the bowl of cereal on Ashley's side, and nods at her.
"Try it," he suggests.
"Okay, going to rehab shows that I value my life. Refraing from eating non egg-nog cereal also applies," says Ashley.
Craig shrugs, but hears the sound of a spoon meeting liquid as he leaves.
"This is good," he hears Ashley whisper.
He smiles to himself, stops in front of the bedroom when the doorbell rings. He opens it to Derek, who he's surprised to see has a very gloomy expression on his face. He doesn't believe he's ever seen that face on him.
"Hey," greets Craig.
Craig peers behind Derek, and sees Ashley's car.
"I brought her car over," explains Derek sadly. "Ashley called for it."
"Thanks. We appreciate it," says Craig.
Derek gives Craig a lookover, and smacks his lips in disgust.
"What?" prompts Craig.
"Your hair's all messed up, and you're still in your pajamas," says Derek, staring at his hair.
"So?" says Craig.
"So you and Ashley were probably in there having hot, angsty sex last night," concludes Derek, trying to look in. "Meanwhile, I can't even get a kiss. I get the whole 'you've got a great personality, but I don't like you that way' thing from Darcy, and I'm all alone."
Craig was getting a little sick of Derek's inquiries about his sex life, but he honestly did feel bad for him.
"No, we just hung out...last night," lies Craig.
The floor creaks, and they both turn to see Ashley standing awkwardly in Craig's nightshirt in the kitchen door frame, a toothbrush in her mouth.
"Oral hygiene," says Ashley, slightly embarrassed before ducking into the bedroom.
Derek rolls his eyes, starts to go down the walk. "I'm catching a cab."
"No wait," says Craig, following him. "Sorry about that. There must be...must be something I can do. You've been there for me and Ash, helped us out."
"I don't know," groans Derek.
"You ever...been to a real recording studio?" asks Craig.
Derek finally smiles. "No joke? I could go? That's so cool! Can I rap on the mic?"
"No," says Craig.
"Can I lay down a track?"
"No."
"Can I hit a cymbal and shout 'Thank you Toronto!' ?"
Craig bites his lip. "Yeah, okay."
"Yes!" exclaims Derek. "But dude, maybe you should change."
Craig looks down at his pajamas. "Oh...right."
II.
Ellie turns the key in the ignition, at last arriving at her destination. Wasaga. The last time she went she had butterflies in her stomach, sitting next to Sean, loving the wind blowing on her face. This time, there weren't so much butterflies in her stomach but an uneasy ache, an empty ache. She didn't know if that's a sign or not. Not sure of what to wear, she just threw on a long-sleeved red shirt, a short black skirt, her boots, and yes, the rubber bands. Luckily, the bands were covered. Besides, she hasn't cut, and more surprising, she hasn't felt the need to cut. Maybe because she was worried about everyone else– Ashley, Sean, and strangest of all, Emma. When did that happen, she asks herself.
The thing is she knows that it's before Emma dumped the food, maybe before that day she retrieved the film from her. How did Craig make it look so easy? He just went on the camping trip, decided that Ashley was the one, and left her. She doesn't hold that against him anymore, though it hurt immensely. Now, here she is in Wasaga, and she's not entirely sure she belongs here, alone with him.
Locking her car, she advances to the beach, going down until she sees a figure in the middle, in exactly the same spot where they sat the first time. He has on a white T-shirt, a jean jacket, and jeans. He's staring at the waves, until he sees Ellie, and quickly stands.
"I got your note," says Ellie softly.
Sean takes off his jacket, lays it down for her to sit on.
"Thanks," says Ellie.
Sean pulls some paper from his jacket, sits down next to her. Ellie notices that his hands are shaking as he opens them. She bites her lip in anticipation.
"Umm...this is a letter to Emma, for a trial separation," says Sean, his voice cracking a bit. "I...wrote it last night. All these words just came out. The handwriting probably looks...looks like...looks horrible."
Ellie puts a hand over his, and she's grateful that it seems to calm him down a bit.
"When I was writing it, all these memories of us and then me and her...I'm asking for six months, and then I'm giving her a decision. I had to run it by you first."
Ellie nods, her insides churning as Sean's eyes fill with tears. Sean unfolds the paper, begins to read:
"Dear Emma, I know...I know this hasn't been fair to you. You most likely have all these questions, questions I can't answer...not yet anyway. When we got married, I was...I was happy, but confused too. Confused, because months before, I was in love with someone else. Then, I got thrown off, because I started to fall in love with you."
Ellie looks down, feels her eyes get blurry.
"Now, Ellie has come back into my life, and old feelings I thought I could erase have returned. I feel like I'm driving a car with no directions, no headlights to guide me through. This is why...why..."
Sean stops, hunches over, and Ellie strokes his back as he cries.
"I can't finish...I can't finish," whispers Sean, hiccuping as the tears stream faster down his cheeks.
Ellie takes the letter, reads the rest out loud though the writing is indeed hard to decipher.
"This is why... I'm asking for a break, just so I can steer in the right path. If that leads...leads me to you, I don't know. Just keep this in your heart: The four years we've had hasn't been a waste. I appreciate the woman and wife you've been. I appreciate the love we share. Always, Sean."
Ellie feels cold all over, hands the letter back to him. She's not sure why the cold sets in, especially after reading that Sean's feelings were enough to ask for this.
"Have you been home since she gave you back your ring?" asks Ellie.
"No, it's just...just crushing to be there," says Sean. "I stop in, pick up what I need, sleep at the shop."
"Emma's not at home, is she?"
"No, she's at her folks' still."
Tears coat Ellie's cheeks, nose, and chin. "Sean...," she starts.
"I only need more time," says Sean, wiping his red eyes furiously. "I feel horrible for making you and Emma wait. I feel horrible for asking you..."
"For asking me to okay all of this," finishes Ellie, angrily. "Then don't ask me! Sean, you keep putting all of it on me, when this is really about you. You're not the only one who feels guilt, alright? Why don't I ever get to ask questions?"
Sean nods, understanding her. He always does, thinks Ellie sadly.
"Ask," says Sean.
"Did you know your wife's in trouble?"
"What...what do you mean?"
"Emma...she's not eating. She dumped her lunch the other day."
Sean's eyes bulge. "What?"
"And being the food conservationist that she is, I don't think it's due to lack of hunger or a trendy diet. She needs you."
Sean scratches his head. "She was fine...I guess since I haven't been there to check on her..."
"I have some more questions," says Ellie.
"Yeah," says Sean, though Ellie can tell he's still preoccupied.
"Being completely honest with yourself, could you ever divorce Emma? A separation is one thing, but a divorce, that's a whole different thing," says Ellie.
Sean takes awhile to answer this one, and the more he waits, the more Ellie's heart sinks. She's sure she knows why, though. Sean is a man of morals, as many petty crimes as he's done, as many temptations cross his mind. He has a heart of gold, a loyal personality. It's the thing she loved most about him, but it's the thing that is tearing them apart.
The lack of answer settles things. Ellie slowly takes the letter and tears it apart. Sean stares at the remnants blankly.
"El, you have to know I'm trying," says Sean, wiping a tear from under her eye.
"I know," whispers Ellie. "It's my fault. I let you go, and you found her. We can't help who we find. I'm stepping aside. I'll be the one on the side."
Ellie stands, Sean jumping up as well.
"You're never the girl on the side," corrects Sean. "Never."
Ellie starts to wander down the beach, silently, the smell of salt air filling her nose. Sean puts an arm around her. The gesture and the rolling waves ease her a bit, and the ache in her belly dies down. Maybe it was the anxiety that was causing the ache, and now that she's clear, clear about what has to happen.
"Will you be happy?" asks Sean.
Ellie slides her hands around his waist. "I'm happy you're in my life, no matter how."
Sean kisses her forehead, hugs her tightly to his side. "I love you, El."
Ellie smiles, the sun warming her face. "I love you, Sean."
III.
Opening her wallet, taking out a credit card, Ashley grins from ear to ear. Standing in the middle of Home Depot, which Craig had joked was like his second home now, she glances over the paint cans, trying to find the perfect shade of purple. She cradles her cellphone between her ear and her shoulder, reading the names.
"Lavender...Misty Lilac...Royal Purple," reads Ashley.
"They all sound too girly," says Craig on the other end. "Derek, don't touch my stereo!"
"Well, we are shopping for a girl," reminds Ashley. "I'm pretty sure Les would like the Misty Lilac, though. It's not too purple."
"Then she has taste," teases Craig. "None of that moody, deep purple you had in your room."
"I liked my moody, deep purple curtains, thank you very much," defends Ashley.
"So did I," says Craig, quickly. "Just joking. I also liked the black lamps, the purple carpet...the bed."
"Shush," says Ashley, smiling. "I'll just get three and let her choose."
"That sounds fine," replies Craig. "You should call Jimmy and see when she can come over."
"Good idea," says Ashley. "When will you be back?"
"It shouldn't take long. We have to record a couple...Derek...what? No, I'm not asking Ashley to get you a Snickers. No, it won't matter if you ask her yourself. I am not...not giving you my phone!"
Ashley laughs, takes a paint can of Misty Lilac from the shelf.
"Ash, remember all those doubts I had about being a stepdad?" says Craig.
"Yeah?"
Craig sighs. "If I can handle Derek, I can handle any kid."
"True," says Ashley, giggling. "Love you. Bye."
Dialing Jimmy's number, several different emotions fill her heart: a subtle sadness that this would be her first time calling her house as somewhat of a stranger; a sense of relief that she can call; a happiness at the thought of spending a couple hours with her daughter.
"Hey," says Ashley, when Jimmy himself says hello.
"Ash? Wow," says Jimmy, though his voice isn't angry.
"We're painting...painting our house, and we reserved a room for Leslie. Sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have called."
"No...no, it's okay. Um, you want her to come over, I'm sensing."
"Yeah, to pick out a color for her room. Please."
"How about tomorrow? Spinner's driving me to practice, and we can drop her off. School's over, so Les is free."
"That's great. Thank you."
Suddenly, all those feelings are outweighed by the happiness.
Ashley switches off her phone, lugs the paint can to the cashier, and then goes back for two others. Then, she gets a cart. The male cashier beams at her as he rings up the items.
"You look better than you do on TV," he says. "Glad I moved from the convenience store to here."
Ashley politely smiles, glances at his nametag. "Thanks...um, Murray."
"Sorry if this is too personal, but my brother, he went to rehab. It's not so bad. Rehab food is awesome."
"Oh," says Ashley, blinking at him.
"What stinks is that thirty days when you can't see anybody," says Murray. "My brother's a loner, but even he was getting antsy for some contact."
Ashley's heart begins to race. She'd forgotten about the thirty days. Sure, she agreed to go last night, but now the realization was hitting her, hard.
"Did it work...for your brother?" asks Ashley.
"Oh yeah!" comforts Murray. "He's off the crack. I missed him, though. Now he's back, and our bond's stronger than other. I just have to remind him to do the laundry on Saturdays."
Ashley turns red at the mention of laundry, and Murray gives her a confused look.
"It's hot in here, isn't it?" says Ashley, fanning herself. "Does this store give discounts?"
"To hot women? Oh yeah!" replies Murray, winking at her.
IV.
Derek lovingly traces the edge of a drum, then strokes the head of a keyboard. Craig looks at him for a bit, shakes his head.
"Dude! These are the coolest instruments I've seen in my life!" praises Derek. "Does Ash have one of these?"
"No," replies Craig. "Don't touch that! And what's up with all these Ashley questions?"
"I just think she's...interesting. I have a newfound respect for her."
"Mhmm, ever since you saw her in a nightshirt."
"Hey, man. I know she's yours. Just admiring."
Craig walks up, takes one drumstick from him. Derek holds the other one pathetically.
Derek flinches. "Sorry."
Eddie walks into the room, Mickey and Robertia behind him. Robertia's wearing a very loud orange dress that makes Craig's eyes water.
"He's still here?" moans Eddie, taking the other drumstick out of Derek's hand.
Derek shrugs. "I'll sit on the couch."
Mickey takes off his sunglasses. "Craig, I've listened to a few tracks. Really impressed. Though not of course as impressive as that fine for landing the helicopter at Lincoln."
Craig coughs. "Yeah, that was...was a pretty big fine. Sorry."
"So you owe me another track. We're going to do our first hidden track. Don't care what it's about, as long as it matches the other stuff."
"That's doable," says Craig.
Derek claps loudly. "I love hidden tracks! You think the album's over then...bam, here comes another little ditty. It's like the prize in some tasty Cracker Jacks."
"And I love quiet in recording sessions," says Eddie, crossing his arms.
Derek pretends to zip his lips, sits happily on the couch. Robertia flops down next to him, assesses his wardrobe.
"I like your hair," says Robertia. "Your clothes need work."
"That's what my mom tells me," confesses Derek.
Craig throws Eddie a surprised look, and Eddie smirks. He's glad Mickey likes all the tracks, and that the case and everything else hadn't affected the process. Eddie had been very lenient with him, understanding about Ashley. Composing a hidden track, however, he was running dry on inspiration.
"Sit up straight," says Robertia, clapping Derek on the back.
He immediately sits up straight. "I hunt so I'm used to slouching a little," he says, confidently.
"I like sporting men," says Robertia.
"And I like aggressive women," replies Derek, puffing out his chest.
"Oh, mercy," mutters Eddie, viewing them.
Mickey catches Craig's sight and motions for Craig to follow him outside. Craig puts down his guitar, and leaves the studio, closing the door behind them.
"I said you could do whatever, but I think we both know who the best songs are about," says Mickey.
Craig looks down, smiles. "She's my muse."
"So if I could persuade you to draw from that same fountain of inspiration...if you take my meaning."
Craig nods. "I got it."
"Good. So she's going to rehab?"
"Yes."
Mickey clears his throat. "Had friends in rehab.That first thirty days is going to be rough. What're you going to do about it?"
"Try not to think about how much I'm going to miss her...which will be impossible."
"How about writing? Before I became your manager, I wanted to be a rock star. When my girlfriend went on one of those spiritual missions, I wrote down my feelings. She seemed to like that romantic mess."
"I'll think about it," says Craig.
"Meanwhile, you should throw her a little shindig. Let other people say good-bye, send her off with warm wishes."
Craig is tempted to gasp. That was a brilliant idea. He was going to put something together anyway, but a full-blown party would show Ashley how much they all cared. And the idea came from Mickey?
"That's actually a wonderful idea," compliments Craig.
"I occasionally come up with those," says Mickey. "Now get in there and start recording. At least Robertia will distract that Derek guy."
Craig chuckles, goes back in. Eddie asks if he can run to the bathroom, making a gagging noise as he passes Derek and Robertia. Craig finds an empty page in his notepad, but the words aren't coming out. When would they? Craig sighs, thinks back to a time when they flowed so easily. His memory flashes to right after prom, the prom he and Ashley played, after a once in a lifetime meeting with Kevin Smith. They sat on the couch in Joey's garage, talking about their performance.
"Then Jimmy ate all this bad cheese, and Hazel had to hold his jacket while he spewed. Not cute," said Ashley, burying her head in Craig's shoulder.
Craig put his arm around her. "Other than that, it was a perfect night. You, me, music equals magic."
"You're so sappy," said Ashley. "I'm going to miss your quirky sayings when I go to England."
"Since you insist on abandoning me," groaned Craig.
Ashley kissed him on the lips, and Craig stroked her cheek.
"I'm not in England yet," she said.
"And we haven't danced," observed Craig. "We've played music, but we haven't danced to music."
"Make sure it's a slow song?" requested Ashley.
Craig flipped on a boombox and pulled Ashley to her feet. The music began, and Craig twirled, then dipped Ashley. Ashley giggled, laying her head on Craig's chest.
Honestly what will become of me
I don't like reality
It's way too clear to me
But really life is daily
We are what we don't see
We miss everything daydreaming
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end
"I'm scared," she breathed, and Craig hears the sadness in her voice.
"Why?" says Craig, rubbing her back.
"I don't know. I don't want this night to end. But it has to."
Craig stroked her chin, holds her face up to his.
"Whatever happens, we'll always have nights like this. You can take them with you wherever you go, and I'll do the same."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
Traveling I always stop at exits
Wondering if I'll stay
Young and restless
Living this way I stress less
I want to pull away when the dream dies
The pain sets in and I don't cry
I only feel gravity and I wonder why
Craig is startled when the memory fades, when the pen moves. So many memories, so many moments that mean the world to him. Look where they are. Who knows where they'll be? But he knows, knows that even when muses leave, they always return.