Affairs & Atonements Read online

  They sat quietly as the evening crawled upon them, fading out the outline of the mountains in the distance into its dark canvas.

  “Thanks for telling me that,” Ashton said slowly. “I don’t think Christy would ever have told me her story.”

  “Well, you needed to know it for you to treat her fairly.” She sighed and then stood up to collect the now empty mugs. “Christy can be stubborn sometimes. But that’s because she feels vulnerable. That she would get hurt again. And sometimes smart people make foolish decisions because they’re trying to protect their heart and those of the ones they love.” She stopped again, fiddling with the edges of her tray. “All I’m asking you, Ashton, is that you please be gentle with her.”

  She turned and walked wearily out of the room.

  Ashton glanced after her. He could tell that life had tired her out. She clearly missed her husband and she wanted the best for Ash and Christy. But he didn’t know if he could give her the latter. He was still angry with Christy and he needed more than two weeks to completely forgive her for what she had done to him.

  *****

  The evening passed on quietly. Christy and Ashton barely spoke to one another over the dinner table. She made a good effort to ignore Ashton which only irked him more. He followed her around the kitchen as she tidied it up, clearing away all remnants of their dinner.

  “Do you need to put these away too?” he asked, pointing at the candlestick holder.

  She shook her head. “No,” and then continued on quietly at stacking the plates in the dishwasher.

  “What about these placemats?”

  “If you don’t mind putting them in the drawer there, please?” She pointed out to him.

  He collected them, perking his lips as he glanced over at her.

  “This one?” he asked, standing next to a set of draws.

  “Yes.”

  “The top one?”

  “The second one.”

  “From the bottom?”

  “From the top.”

  “On the left?”

  “Yes.”

  “This left?”

  She clenched her fingers, taking in a deep breath. “Yes.”

  “It’s a large drawer. Where do you want me to put it?”

  She marched over to him and took the placemats from him. “They’re just placemats, Ashton.” She threw them into the drawer and slammed it shut before turning back to her dishes again.

  He ambled up to her, leaning against the sink bench, watching her. Her body swayed to and fro as she scrubbed vigorously at a pot. Her movements raised an uneasy spark in him, recollecting memories of her when she swayed to a different beat on that first night when she solely belonged to him. He shuffled his feet, crossing his legs to ease the discomfiture he was beginning to feel between them.

  “Must you stand there?” she grumbled.

  “Excuse me?” He cleared his throat.

  “You’ve been standing there, staring at me. And it’s making me uncomfortable.”

  “I thought we could talk…”

  “I’d rather not.” She cut him. “At least, not now.” She wiped her hands and moved away from him, trying to maintain a safe distance between them.

  Each movement she made, the way she ran her hand over her dark hair, biting the corner of her trembling lower lip, excited him. He would never have thought he would notice such minute gestures in her. He was meant to sever all ties with her. Instead, he was finding that he was tangling himself in his own desires for her.

  “I just wanted to know how you were doing,” he said.

  “Don’t you think it would be better if we kept our conversations relevant to Ash?” she said shakily.

  He raised his brow. “Everything is not just about Ash, Christy. I chased your ghost for eleven years. You owe me some explanation as to where you had been all this time, what happened in all these years.”

  Her eyes grew cold, her face tensed from the growing rage inside her. “I owe you nothing. You married me for the wrong reasons. If you chased me, then you did so for your own selfish purpose to ease your own guilty conscience. It had nothing to do with me.”

  Something snapped inside him. “You don’t know the damn you’re talking about! You have no idea what you put me through. And if you’re not careful, I’ll gladly put you through the same just so you know how I felt all these years.”

  She breathed heavily, her eyes locked angrily with his. “Isn’t that the old Ashton I know? Vengeful and mean. You sounded too good to be true. I’m glad I don’t have to beat myself over deceiving you anymore. You just reminded me why I ran from you in the first place.”

  He clenched his fists, holding himself back from tugging her against him. She riled him to his core; one moment seducing him with her little ways and the next, provoking every inch of him.

  She bowed her head down, palming her forehead tiredly. “Please, Ashton, let’s stop. Let’s stop pretending to be so cool about this. I know you would want nothing more than to pay me back for what I’d done to you. And I- I just want to get on with my life with my son.” She raised her eyes, tears replacing the anger she once carried in them. “It would be best if you ate your meals in the lodge like the rest of the guests. Ash could join you there.”

  She pushed past him, trying not to touch him as best as she could.

  He stood there in the middle of the now empty kitchen, staring after her in a speechless daze. His feet moved slightly, on the verge of following her. He didn’t understand why he did that. Perhaps, it was a habit he had acquired over eleven years. Whatever it was, it was time he stopped.

  *****

  “Do you like it here?” he asked the boy as he bounced about in the field of wild grass and flowers.

  “Yeah.”

  “And what about your friends? Do you get to see them often?”

  “I meet them in school. It’s enough,” said JR as he peered into a dead tree-trunk. “Hey, Dad, look at this. A baby squirrel.”

  He walked up to him and peered alongside him. “Oh yes, it is. It’s an orphaned baby. His mother probably lost or abandoned the poor thing.”

  “Or something could have happened to the mother?” JR said, his eyes wallowing with sympathy for the tiny creature nestled in a corner of the trunk.

  “Yes, that too.” Ashton nodded. He noticed its pink skin and lack of hair, its head tucked into its body and its eyes tightly shut. “It can’t be more than a week old.”

  “Can we take it home?”

  “Let’s hang about a little longer.” He pursed his lips in deep thought. “Its mother might return to fetch it. And it does have a better chance of surviving if it’s with its mother.”

  The breeze rustled through the forest, growing steadily. After almost thirty minutes of waiting, he grew restless and concerned about the strong winds that were now wildly swaying the tree branches above them.

  “We should go now, JR,” he said, studying the trees about them. “The weather’s getting rougher.”

  “This is normal, Dad.” The boy dismissed, jumping from one dead log to another. “It gets worse than this, believe me. And sometimes it even calms down.”

  “I do believe you, son. But I’m not too keen on finding out just yet.”

  “What about the baby squirrel? We can’t leave him out here like this in this weather!” the boy begged. “Let’s take it back home with us and Nan could help me feed it. She’s good with animals.”

  “Ummm, okay.” He couldn’t leave the animal exposed in this manner either. It had no chance of surviving on its own. It was still blind and utterly dependent on nurturing. “But let me pick it up, alright?”

  JR nodded as his father pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. He daintily gathered the infant and wrapped its tiny body in the hanky.

  “Okay, got him all nice and warm,” Ashton announced proudly. “Now, let’s get him home so we can feed him.”

  Inside the musty storage room, they found an old box which they took with them
back to the kitchen.

  “Ask Nan for an old soft fabric, and a heating pad or an electric blanket.” Ashton instructed his son.

  JR looked up at him curiously, his eyebrow raised with suspicion. “You sure you know what you’re doing? I could simply ask Nan to help out, you know. She’s done this a dozen times.”

  “And so have I,” he grumbled, irritated by the consistent assumption held by both mother and son that he was somehow incapable of caring for anything delicate.

  “Really?” his son asked, obviously pleasantly surprised which annoyed him all the more.

  “Yes. Now, are you going to get that stuff I asked for?”

  JR grinned before scooting off to look for his nan. He returned fifteen minutes later with the older woman striding up to him quickly.

  “I heard you found an infant squirrel,” Margaret asked concernedly as she handed over a heating pad and soft fabric.

  “JR did.” He smiled. “Thanks for these.”

  She smiled back. “I can see you know what you’re doing. I shouldn’t be worried then.”

  “I used to help care for abandoned animals back home when I was JR’s age.”

  “It seems he’s taken after you there.”

  He straightened up with curiosity. “This isn’t his first time?”

  She shook her head, bobbing her short, graying hair. “A few months ago, it was a cotton tail rabbit. Prior to that a kitten. He’s got a lot of love in that small heart of his, that kid.”

  Ashton smiled proudly. Even though he had never been around, his son had taken after him, sealing them together more firmly than ever as father and son.

  “I found it!” JR skipped in with an oral syringe, displaying it happily.

  He handed it over to his father and he took it, looking at it with interest.

  “I’m going to guess that you know how to make a homemade formula for the infant.” Margaret grinned.

  Ashton chuckled. “Yes. It would be great if you had some Pedialyte or Gatorade though.”

  Margaret laughed. “Okay, show-off. Then I should just get on with my job and leave you two experts at it.” She winked at JR. “You got yourself a winner dad.” She teased, giving him a thumbs-up. “Take care of that baby. I’ll be back to check on your handiwork. So don’t any of you dare skip steps.” She giggled as she headed towards the door.

  “Yes, ma’am,” they replied, staring at each other and then burst into chuckles too.

  “Wow, isn’t she such a headmistress?” Ashton teased.

  “She always is with animals.”

  Ashton nodded. “That’s always a good thing.” He leaned down and delicately pinched the skin of the infant rodent. It stuck out like a tent and he instantly knew it was dehydrated. “You want to help me make it some food?”

  “Yes! And can I feed it?”

  “Okay, but you’ve got to be real slow and gentle. You don’t want to aspirate the baby.”

  “What does that mean? Aspirate?”

  “You don’t want the fluid going into the lungs or it’ll get sick.”

  “Right.” JR nodded.

  “Do you want to give it a name though? That usually helps get them better. Some love.”

  “Rusty. I love Rusty,” the boy replied as he looked eagerly upon the animal.

  “Well, Rusty it is. Now, where is the salt and sugar?”

  “In those cupboards.” JR pointed.

  He pulled open the one above the sink and it instantly fell loose into his hand, dangling by its lower hinge.

  “What the-?” He almost swore, biting back his vulgarity.

  “Oh yeah, that one needs to be fixed,” JR said before returning his attention to the baby squirrel.

  Ashton pulled out the jars of sugar and salt. “Why haven’t they been fixed?” he asked as he scooped out the required measurement and mixed them in a quart of warm water in a bowl.

  JR shrugged. “Mom hasn’t gotten around it, I guess. It’s been like that since Pop died. Sometimes Chad comes around to help.”

  He tensed. “Who’s Chad?”

  CHAPTER 7

  Chad Sullivan, Sheriff Deputy of Pierce County. He sneered. Why did women always fall for the poor tough guys?

  “Dad…” JR hesitated, looking worriedly at the poor hinge being tortured by his father. “I think it’s tight enough, Dad.”

  Incognizant of anything his son had said, Ashton continued to push hard onto the screw with the screwdriver. Chad Sullivan… Chad Sullivan. He’s got to be taking advantage of Christy. I have to be sure he is the right man for her before I leave. Because? Because… Yes, I owe it to JR. This man is going to be a part of my son’s life and I am darned if some stranger will ruin it! This has nothing to do with Christy. It is about JR. Yeah, aha, nothing to do with a man taking Christy into his arms, kissing her, making love-

  “Fuck!” he swore as the screwdriver slipped off the screw, almost stabbing his palm. He reddened when he noticed JR was looking up amusedly at him. “Sorry,” he said awkwardly. “I don’t normally say that.” He scratched his head. “You’re not going to tell your mom, are ya?”

  JR shook his head and grinned.

  “Doesn’t make it okay to say it though.” Ashton warned.

  “It’s okay, Dad. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before. It’s a perfectly normal word in everyday language these days, you know?”

  “Maybe, but you’re not using it.” He grumbled. He tested the door, opening and shutting it. “It looks as if that’s done.”

  JR looked at his father with admiration. “Wow, Dad, you know how to mend stuff too?”

  Ashton smiled as he stepped down from his step-stool. Wiping his hands onto an old towel, he glanced at the boy peering eagerly into the tool box and then picking out a hammer. He loved the way his son looked up to him. He remembered having the same look when he was about the same age as JR. But somewhere between being a child and an adult, it had disappeared, replaced with anger. He never wanted to lose that admiration like he had done with his father. Neither did he want his son looking up at another man as a possible father figure. There could only be one dad! And he didn’t care if he had to nail every goddamn hinge in this place to earn that respect; he was going to do it!

  “So, what’s next?” He beamed. “Is there anything else that needs fixing?”

  “I think some light bulbs need changing. They were burnt out.” JR twisted his mouth in deep thought. “Perhaps, it would be better if we ask Mom. She’d be able to tell us what needs to be done.”

  Ashton coughed. “Let’s just start with what you know now and then we’ll ask Mom later.”

  JR shrugged. “Okay.” He pointed at a fluorescent light tube. “I remember that one flickering.”

  “Yeah?” Ashton glanced at it. “Switch it on so I can see.”

  JR switched it on as instructed and then stood by the switch, watching his father examine it. “How come you know how to do all this? Did you learn it off your dad?”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Plus my family ran a hardware store so I ended up experimenting with most of what we sold.”

  “They still run it?”

  “They still do.” He smiled. “And now that you’re helping me, you’ll get to learn them too.”

  The boy grinned, guarding the switch even more attentively than before.

  Ashton fiddled with the light fixture and then sighed. “Looks as if the fitting’s loosened a bit. How about we check out the other lights as well and then take a trip downtown to get the right stuff?”

  *****

  Christy double-backed when she saw the infant rodent in the box in the corner of her kitchen.

  “Margaret,” she called out. “Is this another of JR’s rescues?”

  “And his father’s,” Margaret replied as she walked in with a basket full of fresh vegetables. “And I have to say he was pretty good at it too.”

  “Ashton?” she asked in surprise.

  “I believe that is his name.” Margaret grin
ned. “He really is doing his best to get along with JR.”

  Christy tilted her head in deep thought. She had never seen this compassionate side of Ashton before. But then again, he had always been protective of Linda. Perhaps, he revealed his tender side only to those he loved. And she certainly didn’t make that list.

  “Do you want a cup of coffee?” she asked Margaret, trying to not give any further attention to the man who continually disrupted her life.

  She reached up for the cupboard above the sink, bracing one hand on the door, expecting it to fall loose like it always had done for the past five months. She really must hire a handy man to do the repairs around the lodge and the house before it fell apart any more than it already was. That damage to the roof of the lodge last summer by that fallen pine tree had sucked out much of their savings leaving very little for proper repairs this year. If Evan was still alive, he would have done them himself. The materials didn’t cost as much as the labor. And since Evan’s passing, much of the lodge had fallen into disrepair. She felt guilty for not being able to keep it up to the immaculate condition it was once in when Evan was alive. She would understand if Margaret castigated her at all for not managing the business like Evan did.

  She sighed and pulled open the cupboard door. “So did you want one?” she asked Margaret again.

  “Yeah, why not? The wind’s getting stronger and it’s getting colder as well. I could do with a hot mug right now.”

  Christy pulled out two mugs and set them down before reaching out for the jar of instant coffee. It was then she looked up with interest at the cupboard door. It was screwed back in place, swinging perfectly without a glitch.

  “Margaret?” she began with curiosity. “Did you get the cupboard door fixed?”

  “Oh, that was Ashton as well,” Margaret replied casually as she dug into her draws for a peeler. “He and JR were at it as they went from room to room looking for things to repair. Ashton borrowed Evan’s tool box and had that mended in no time. Who would have known an advertising executive would be so good with his hands? It’s a rare find.” She smiled as she sort through her vegetables.