Chapter Nine

 

“The car is locked inside.”

I feel a little bad for her as I fool with my phone web browser. She’s genuinely distraught at having all her things locked away inside Jason’s garage. “He won’t come open it so you can get your stuff, so we’ll just get what you need at the store.”

She turns away from the window she’s fogging up with her breath and stares at me. Silent.

“What?” I ask absently, still paying attention to the search results on my phone.

“Nothing,” she sighs. “If you say so.” She turns back to the window and I put my phone away. I pull out of Jason’s and make our way back onto I-70 to get to the west side of the village, and then she turns back to me. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m not more appreciative. I’m just…”

I wait. The car is silent except for the blast of hot air coming from the heater vents. But she’s dropped it and I hate that. “You’re just what?” I prod.

She waits again. And then, just when I think she’s ignoring me, she says very softly, “I’m just not sure what’s happening.”

I slow the van down so we don’t slide into the car in front of us when we get off the freeway, but as soon as I turn right to go to Safeway, I can’t wait anymore, so I ask. “You’re not sure about what? I don’t understand your confusion.” I figure she’s gonna ask me what my intentions are. Hell, if I was a girl with a new baby traveling alone, and some guy picked me up and wanted to pay for everything, that’s the first fucking thing I would’ve asked.

But she’s done talking about it because she changes the subject. “Do they have a Wal-Mart here?”

I laugh.

“What?”

I laugh again. “This is Vail. We have a Patagonia, a Sports Authority, a million ski and board shops, several survival gear stores, one 7-11, and a Safeway. Unless you count the boutiques in Vail Village, but I do not. We can go there tomorrow and get you more clothes if you need it, but not today. You have to walk in from the parking garage, and even though the sidewalks are heated so snow is not a problem, I’m not in the mood to boutique shop in Vail Village during a blizzard. So I’ll hit the Safeway for groceries and you can shop for clothes in the consignment store next door.”

“What if it’s not open?”

“I already checked, they’re open until four.”

“Well,” she says with a little sigh that might be relief. “I guess you’ve got it all figured out, then.”

“I do,” I say as I pull up in front of the consignment shop. She gets out and opens the back door and the wind whips snow inside. She grabs that pain-in-the-ass baby carrier and I get out some cash from my wallet and thrust it at her. “Here, get whatever you need.”

She stares at the bills in my outstretched hand for a moment, then looks up to my eyes. “Did he send you?”

“What? Who?”

She shakes her head and mutters, “Nothing.” And then she grabs the cash and the baby carrier and whooshes the door closed.

“Did who send me?” I have a paranoid vision of her being some mob boss’ daughter on the run after witnessing a triple murder of some important politician’s family… and then I laugh myself out of it. Fuck, Ford. You have some imagination. Not everyone is a criminal. I’m not sure who this girl is or what that remark just meant, but right now I do not care. The snow is getting worse and I just want to get this shopping crap over with and go home.

Home.

That word in association with Vail evokes feelings in me that I’m not sure how to identify. I’ve lived here on and off my entire life. In that house. In that bedroom. But now this place feels… empty for me. It’s missing something.

No, that’s not right. It’s missing everything.

I park the van and jog towards the entrance before the snow drenches me.

The Safeway doors slide open when I approach and I’m bombarded with leftover Christmas shit. I skirt around an employee trying to hand me samples of corned beef, and then grab a cart. I hit the alcohol first. I grab a few local brew six-packs and then head to the meat department.

I can cook. Regardless of what Spencer thinks, I have no problem cooking. I might not push a vacuum around, but that’s only because I have maids who do that for me. But eating is something I have to do a few times a day so cooking is a survival skill.

I grab a few pounds of boneless chicken, some rice, and other small things to make it taste a little better. I wander around the produce department and pick up some vegetables for a salad. I’m perusing the drinks aisle when I hear the baby behind me.

“Hey,” the girl says as she comes up laden with bags and the carrier.

“That was fast.”

“Yeah, the shop girl practically kicked me out. I was her only customer all day and she was just thinking she could close early when I walked in. I got a few things real fast. I didn’t spend much.”

I take the bags and put them in the grocery cart and she balances the baby carrier on the front seat and takes over the driving.

I shake my head at that. Fucking girls. “I got a few things, but you can get whatever you want.”

“I have to get diapers.” She looks back at me. “If that’s OK?”

I wave her on. “Whatever you need.”

She leads the way after that and I follow, feeling a bit uncomfortable to be doing something so personal as grocery shopping with a total stranger and her child. But then, I spent last night with her, she’s staying with me this weekend, and I paid for her car to get a new engine. So I guess grocery shopping is not so strange after all.

She whips the cart around the corner and looks up at the aisle signs as she walks, then takes a hard right into the baby stuff. She barely stops, just grabs things off the shelf as she walks. Tosses in diapers, a bib, and a box of something. “I have a bowl and spoon, so I don’t need that,” she explains when she notices me watching her intently.

“OK,” I reply. She stops at the end of the aisle. “You done?”

“I think so.”

“Do you need anything specific? Milk?” She glances down at her breasts and I let out a small chuckle. “For you, I mean.”

“Oh, I’ll eat whatever, but thank you.”

“OK.” And that’s that. Shopping is over. We stand in the checkout line, which is long since there’s a threat of another storm coming and people are reactionary when they think they might be snowed in for a day. I pay and the girl talks to the baby as the bagger loads our cart back up. And then we go back out and brave the snow. It’s really coming down and the parking lot hasn’t been cleared since earlier in the day, so I have to fight the cart through the slush.

We load the kid and the crap, then climb back into the van. Our doors slam at the same time and we let out a collective sigh. She looks over at me and gives me a smile again. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem. Jason will be at the shop tomorrow, so we can go by and get your stuff if you need it. The Bronco will be done on Monday, but he won’t be able to start your car until later in the week, so you’ll have to stay up here in Vail until it’s done.”

“Oh.” She seems disappointed and that’s all she says as I drive carefully through the snow, the tires making that crunching noise as we go.

“Don’t worry,” I say, looking at her frown. “You can stay at my house. Just call the property managers when you leave and they’ll come lock it all up again. I’ll leave you some cash for food, and you can use this rental if you want.”

She nods and looks out the window.

“What?” I ask as I get back on the freeway.

“Thanks,” she says with an almost too cheerful smile. “It’s very nice of you to help me out like this. You don’t even know me.” And then she snorts a little. “You don’t even know my name.”

“Ashleigh,” I say quietly. “You’re Ashleigh.” She gives me a quizzical look. “Your key chain. It said Ashleigh and Tony Forever or something like that.”

“Oh, right.” The smile disappears.

“But yeah, I’m not usually so nice. You caught me on a bad day.”

“This is a bad day? What are you like on a good day? A saint?” This brings the smile back, at least partly.

“No, on a good day I’m myself. On a good day I would’ve left you in your car all night.”

She looks over at me quickly. “Would not’ve.”

“Yes, I would. On a good day I would never’ve knocked on your window when I went to get the blizzard blankets. I would’ve pretended I never heard you and your baby. And then I would’ve walked back to my hotel and gone to sleep. I’d have forgotten you before I even reached the motel door.”

I get off the freeway at our exit and turn right onto Starburst. The snow is even thicker over here and I start to worry about the driveway. I punch in the gate code once we make it to the house, and then hold my breath as we climb the steep hill. We slide even more this time and it’s freaking her out.

“I don’t like this. Drop me off, I’ll walk up.”

“I’m not dropping you off. Just relax.”

She looks nervously behind us. “I’m afraid we’re gonna slide backwards and—”

“Stop it. I’m not going to let us slide backwards.”

“But what if you can’t control it?”

I shoot her an annoyed look and she turns away as I accelerate a little, making the tires spin. She makes a few indescribable noises and grips the seat, but after a few seconds of sliding sideways, we get traction and continue upwards. When I finally pull around to the garage she lets out a long breath like she was holding it in the entire time. “Told ya,” I say smugly as I put the car in park so I can go open the garage door.

“Yeah, you did, didn’t you?”

I glance up at her as I get out to see if this was sarcasm, but she’s already scooting over into my seat. We’ve got this down to a routine, I guess.

She smiles at me again. Like she trusts me completely even though three seconds ago she thought I was gonna let us slide backwards down a steep hill. I open the garage and she pulls forward with the same careful attention she did earlier, and then I close the door behind her. I start grabbing bags and she messes with the baby.

I set all the bags down on the kitchen island and start taking things out to put away.

“Nope,” she says in a light tone. She walks over to me and puts her hand on my chest to push me away, and then grabs the bag with her other hand at the same time. “You paid, so I’ll put it all away and cook us dinner.”

I try to remove her hand from my chest, but she whirls around before I can even come to grips with the fact that she touched me again.

Fucking girl. That’s three times now.

“Go,” she says. “Shoo. I’ll take care of it.”

“Shoo?” I chuckle. It feels good to laugh after all this bullshit that’s been rattling around in my brain these past few months. “I can cook. I don’t need you to take care of me.”

She stops what she’s doing and looks over her shoulder at me. “Just go, OK? I got this. It’s my way of paying you back. Don’t ruin it for me.”

She goes back to the bags and leaves me to decide. I watch her from behind for a moment. Her small body is busy as she takes things out and sets them on the counter. And then the baby whines and it breaks the hold this girl has on me.

I don’t exactly hate babies, they just freak me out. They’re all needy with the feeding and the diapers. Plus, most of them like to be touched.

I shiver at the thought and make a quick escape before she asks me to do her a baby favor.