A/N: Okay, I know it's late and all. I'm sorry. It was also supposed to be longer, but then it got too long and I didn't think I wanted to put everything in this one chapter, so I'm splitting it into two parts.
"I got a call from Mom and Dad today." We're back at Clay's house now, out in his backyard, a day after the fun of the mud sliding.
"Oh?" I sit between Ashley's legs, leaning up against her chest as she leans up against the tree. The stars twinkle above us in the late night sky and the remnants of the fire we had after dinner and Chris' departure to bed still remain.
He looks at me cautiously. "They want to have dinner."
Ashley smirks at him. "Have fun with Madam Bitch-A-Lot."
Clay shakes his head. "They want to have dinner with Spencer."
Ashley's smirk drops into a shocked expression "As in my Spencer?" I know it's possessive and puts me on the same level as property, but there is something undeniably warm that starts in my toes and travels all the way up to the top of my head at knowing that I am hers. And that makes the prospect of dinner with my parents so much less daunting.
"The very same," Clay lets out dryly. "What do you say, Spence?" What do I say? It's a loaded question that one day ago I would've totally turned down. But now I'm not sure. I realize that closure needs to happen, but such intense closure might be a little too much, a little too soon.
"I don't know," I reply quietly. Ashley wraps her arms tightly around my waist, but it doesn't help that much.
"When?" she asks.
"Tomorrow."
Ashley wrinkles her nose. "Tomorrow? That's not much notice."
"Why?" I wonder. "Why would Mom and Dad ever want to see me again?"
Clay shrugs. "I don't know. They're not the type to reconcile; stuck in their old ways. They could possibly bring an unattached boy and try to get you to date him."
"They wouldn't." It's an automatic response on my part, because I don't want to believe it. But I know it's true. Everyone else knows that, too, and none of us feel the need to confirm it.
Chelsea speaks up for the first time that night. "I know I don't understand everything about this situation, but I think you should go."
"Are you crazy?" Ashley shoots out in my defense.
"Ashley," I whisper to her. She visibly calms down, but I can still feel her heart beating rapidly. Then I gaze at Chelsea, a sigh on my face. "Why?" That seems to be the question of the moment.
She shrugs, just like her husband, and suddenly appears sheepish. "Just seems like the thing to do. I know there are parts of this story I don't get-can't get- but you've come so far since you first came, and it feels like the right time. You're still feeling strong from what you overcame yesterday, and maybe you should monopolize that feeling before it goes away." It makes sense, what she says. Even Ashley doesn't dispute the facts right in front of her. And the strength she's referring to must only be somewhere deep down inside, because I don't feel strong at all, but I somehow manage to be able to say, "Yeah. Tell them I'll go."
"Tell them we'll go," Ashley adds and kisses me on the top of the head.
For some reason, I don't want her to come to meet my family. Somehow I think that her innocence will be shattered if she meets my family, but I know she's a lot less innocent than I am. Somehow I think it's a different kind of innocence. The important kind, but I can't quite define what makes it important or even what makes it different from the other kind of innocence. I feel that my family tends to shatter the world around them when it comes to me. They just tend to make everyone uncomfortable, and I just can't bring Ashley into that world. That's the side of me that I've been living with for the past five years. My newly found logical side tells me that the smart thing to do would be to take Ashley, and in the end it would be easier for both of us. So I try to listen to that side of me.
"That'd be great." I suddenly feel tired, like the energy of saying those three little words took as much out of me as if I'd just run a marathon.
Clay smiles at me, his brown eyes mournful and glad at the same time. "I'll go call them right now."
"And on that note, I think we'll be going to bed," Ashley says, letting her arms go and pushing me up- focusing her hands on my butt. But I don't mind. I blush, sure, but I don't mind. She just gives me a devilish smirk that's utterly adorable. Chelsea clearly notices this, because she also smirks. I just blush even more.
She leads me up to our bedroom and we get ready silently. Ashley finishes before me and is in bed when I come back from brushing my teeth. I know I should be back in my own bed, but the anticipation of tomorrow makes me want to snuggle up into Ashley's arms more than anything.
She doesn't seem to mind, however, as I cautiously slip under the covers and touch her hand lightly as a warning. Like a lighthouse, signaling that I'm coming. Without the surprise I expect, Ashley kisses me on top of my head. "Just go to sleep, Spence," she whispers in a breathlessly comforting voice. "Whatever you're feeling right now, we can deal with that tomorrow. Because I know from experience insomnia gets you nowhere, as demonstrated freshman year."
In the middle of freshman year, Ashley's wild and outgoing nature still got to me. I tried not to hang around her that much, but I only had two other options: Madison, the preppy girl, and Shawn, the ever-intellectual boy. Madison annoyed me after a while because of her incessant talk about boys and make-up, but she was always a good laugh. I liked talking to Shawn, but he lost me pretty quickly with his knowledge, especially about social problems.
But Ashley always had something fun cooked up her sleeve, and I couldn't resist going along with it. She hung out with Aiden, who didn't work at the Blockbuster back then. He was a junior at that time. I barely knew him until the day of truth or dare.
It was me, Ashley, Aiden, Shawn, and Madison hanging around my and Ashley's place on a lazy Friday night in the middle of January. After searching for hours for something to do, Madison finally suggested truth or dare. It was decided we'd play in a spin-the-bottle fashion: someone spins the bottle, and whoever it lands on has to choose.
The first few rounds consisted of us being chicken and choosing truth. Then my turn came up. I spun that bottle, and wouldn't you know it? It landed square on Ashley, whose face lit up with a smile.
"Truth or dare?" I asked nervously because by the twinkle in her eyes, I already knew what her mind was set on.
"Dare." And I could also tell she expected it to be something really out there, like getting naked, covering herself in sundae toppings, and then running around our dorm outside. That, by the way, was something she dared Shawn to do later. He did, but he kind of cheated in Ashley's mind because the very first thing he made was a pair of "underwear" out of whipped cream.
Now at this point in my life, I was really naïve. Young and naïve and easily embarrassed. I didn't want to make Ashley do anything weird like that, because I didn't have the guts to say it to her. So I settled with something neutral. "Um... I dare you to stay up for 72 hours straight."
She quirked a grin. "Gee, Spencer, I was expecting something a little more wild." I blushed. "But alright. How long is that? Like three days?"
"Yep," I told her. "Starting from when you wake up tomorrow."
"You've got yourself a deal."
By Sunday evening Ashley had already gone a little crazy. Aiden came over for a study session, but Ashley was too hyped up on adrenaline to sit still for more than a second. He got really frustrated and kind of blew up at her, but she appeared to be incredibly delirious because all she did was laugh at the way his nostrils flared up. He left to study by himself.
The next day she waltzed into her class, ready to take the test, and promptly fell asleep. Aiden passed with flying colors.
To make things worse for her, we'd all agreed before the game that if someone failed to complete a dare, they'd have to be submitted to some torture concocted by the other four. I stayed out of the debate for the most part, but it was decided that Ashley would go to class with just a bra, underwear, and a trenchcoat on and then drop it in front of everyone- including the teacher. She did, and with perfect grace. She may have gotten into a boatload of trouble, but she was loyal to us all the way.
"So the dean asked me why I did it," Ashley explained later as she told us of her temporary leave from classes. "Asked me if it was part of some prank or initiation or dare or something." We all exchanged glances, thinking she'd ratted us out. "I told him it was Wednesday, and everyone needs some spice added to their Wednesdays."
And that was the end of that. Although none of the boys in that class could ever quite meet Ashley's eye after the incident.
It's morning. The morning before I face what might possibly be my greatest fear. Ashley's predictably asleep next to me, breathing softly. Then I understand why she's still lying there peacefully: the sun has barely begun to rise. I can see the red and orange color splayed across the starless sky. It looks like that shot from "The Lion King." I can almost hear the African drums and chanting in the distance.
I head down to the kitchen, my sock-covered feet padding quietly on the floor so as not to wake anyone else. I remember that mornings in Ohio can sometimes be too cold for shorts and a tank-top, so I take the fuzzy blanket off the couch.
The sun blinds me as I settle in the hammock under the trees. The peaceful chirping of the birds, the dewy blades of grass tickling my feet as I lazily brush over top of them in the swinging hammock, the last of the crickets hopelessly beating their wings, the cool haze and slight breeze running through the quiet yard, the far off car noises of people going to work, all remind me of the mornings of my younger years. My innocent years. But what is innocent is not always the way of the world, I guess.
I don't feel like doing anything anymore, like life has no purpose. But I look up to the window of the bedroom farthest on the left with the light flickering on and I know it does. I just know exactly know what it is.
So when I hop back into the kitchen and Ashley's sitting there reading the back of the Fruit Loops box, I ask her. "Hey, Ash?"
"Hmm?"
"What's the meaning of life?"
And instead of laughing at me or looking at me like I'm crazy, she shrugs. "Whatever you want it to mean."
I sigh and sit down at the table. "That's not helpful."
She tears her eyes away from the Fruit Loops. "Well what do you want it to mean?"
"I don't know. What about you?" I think I've got her cornered, but she has an answer ready for me.
"Love," Ashley smiles. "That's the reason for life in my eyes. Like that RENT song?" I'm surprised she knows that reference. Then again, RENT is about AIDS, sex, drugs, and gay people. I guess it'd be surprising if she referenced Gershwin.
"That's a really generic answer." It almost feels like she just made it up right then and there, on the spot, simply to prove me wrong.
Ashley raises her eyebrows at me as she chews her cereal. After a swallow, she explains, "I don't care if it's generic. It still holds true for me. And don't mean just soulmate, dancing in the streets, shout it on the rooftops, kind of love, but all sorts. Everything revolves around the love and relationships we have with the people in our lives." I realize that her logic is insightful and makes sense, but it's very hard to concentrate on her words while she's swirling around a bowl of Fruit Loops and wearing pajama pants with monkeys and bananas on them. Okay, those are my pants, but that doesn't make any difference.
"I mean, look at you. Your whole life is dependent on your relationship with your family," she points out. Yeah, I'm interested in this. And asking.
"Huh?"
She smiles. "I knew you'd bite." My mind goes to unexpected places at this comment. "Your relationship with your family was the thing that drove you out of Ohio, right?"
I nod. When I met Ashley and she asked why I chose UCLA, I told her it was because I was debating between Ohio State and UCLA. And then I vaguely told her Ohio held some bad memories for me and I ended up going to UCLA because of that.
"If your parents hadn't been such evil little people, then you'd be at Ohio State instead of UCLA. And you'd never have met me or Aiden or Madison or Shawn or gotten that writing job offer or had any of those memories that we've made over the years," Ashley explains. "Your whole life changed because of this move, and it was love or lack there of that caused it."
"That's... oddly insightful." And I mean it.
It's one of those days where you're dreading the end so much that everything goes by so fast. I'm reading a book for what feels like ten minutes, but I look at the clock and it's been two hours. I spend some time cuddling with Ashley in the hammock for what I think is fifteen minutes and I take a nap, waking up three hours later. And before I know it, it's dinner time.
I stand in our room, looking at myself in the mirror, fretting over what I should wear. I know that making a big deal out of this isn't the thing I should be stressing over, but it's a lot easier to stress over clothes than to stress about what's going on. Because even now, as I'm letting myself just barely think about it, I get all jittery inside.
Ashley comes up behind me, puts her hands on my shoulders. She kisses me on the cheek and smiles widely. "You look perfect, Spencer, so stop freaking out. Things are gonna be fine. You have Clay, and Chelsea. And you have me."
"Yeah," I sigh. And then I start to panic. "But they have Dad and Glen and Elle and oh God, they have Mom. Mom! You don't know my mom! She's-she's- Ashley!"
Ashley makes "shh"-ing noises and puts her arms around my waist. "Just calm down, Spencer. Everything will be okay. Your family, whatever is thrown our way, it'll be just that. Ours. Our problems, not yours. You don't have to deal with anything alone anymore, not at all. Alright?" I nod, but I don't really mean it. She nods back; like she knows how I'm feeling, but she accepts it.
"Girls! Let's get going!" Clay yells. "You know Mom hates lateness, Spence!" It's his attempt at a joke, though I can't find it in myself to laugh.
We hurry down the stairs and out the door where Chelsea's handing off Chris to what I assume is a neighbor.
"Auntie Spencer! Ashley!" he calls. "Hi!"
Ashley puts on a brave smile and hurries over to him. "Hey, there little man. You know, I really need to spend some time with you. And who's this?" She directs it at the woman standing near Chelsea.
"Oh, hello," she says. "I'm Rita, a neighbor. I have my own little boy Adam who's having a sleep-over with Chris tonight, because of dinner." Rita gives a knowing smirk and looks at her.
"I'm Ashley." She extends her hand to Rita, who shakes it.
"How are you related to this whole little family gathering?" Rita asks with lots of hand gestures.
"I'm Spencer's girlfriend," she explains.
Rita puts a hand on her shoulder and I think she's about to say something awful. "You're a brave one, then. I've met the mother. She's something."
"So I've heard," Ashley replies.
"What's wrong with Grandma?" Chris pipes up unexpectedly. Ashley, Rita, and Chelsea all simply stare at one another. Luckily, Clay comes to the rescue.
"Let's get moving."