An (Almost) Perfect Love Story (Love Story Book Three) (7 page)

“What about your sisters?” Ryan asked.

I frowned for the first time that night. I probably wouldn’t be able to tell my sisters in person, what with us all being so spread out. “We can Skype them,” Chris said, reading my mind. “I know video chat’s not quite the same, but it’s better than a phone call.”

I smiled, feeling better. “You’re right. But I’ll wait until we tell my folks. Amy has a bigger mouth than I do.”

Brooke appeared in the living room, looking harassed. “Finally,” she said, plopping down in an armchair near the couch. “I thought they’d never go to bed.”

“You didn’t really get to enjoy the holiday,” I said. “Taking care of everyone else all night.”

Brooke snorted. “Valentine’s Day isn’t a holiday,” she said. “It’s a BS way for people like me to make more money.”

I stuck out my tongue at her and everyone laughed. “Sorry, Brooke,” Chris said, kissing my hand. “I’m with Ash on this one. After tonight, I’m a believer. Valentine’s Day is awesome.” Emily and I cheered, making Brooke roll her eyes.

The fire was starting to fade, and Elliot yawned more than once before we all agreed we were tired. “We’re doing a big pancake breakfast in the morning,” Brooke said. “Be down by ten if you want to eat.”

“That sounds good,” I said, standing and stretching. “What else is on the agenda for tomorrow?”

“I think we should go sledding,” Chris said.

Ryan made a face. He wasn’t much into outdoor activities in the snow. “Can we bring the yummy spiked hot cocoa?” he asked.

I laughed and put my arm around him as we all made our way for the stairs. “I’m on board.”

“You guys have a good night,” Brooke said, stopping in the foyer. She and Paul shared the owners’ suite in the lower level of the inn.

Before she could leave, I threw my arms around her, pulling her in close to me. She seemed surprised; it took her a minute to hug me back. “Thank you for everything you did tonight,” I whispered. “I know you think it’s silly, but it was the most amazing night of my life. Thank you so much.”

“It’s not silly,” she whispered back. “I’m happy for you both.”

Chris hugged her, too, before we made our way up the stairs, separating from the group at the top as everyone made their way to their own rooms. “So,” Chris said as he pulled the door shut behind us. “Was it a good day?”

I beamed at him from across the room, happier than ever that I had this man to myself, for the rest of my life. “Nope,” I said. “It was a perfect day.”

Chapter Seven

Trying to get through the beginning of the week was much harder than I thought it would be. It would have been weird to tell my friends at work about the engagement before my parents knew so, with a sinking heart, I pulled off my engagement ring in the morning before leaving the house. When Susan asked me about the weekend, I had told her it had been nice, without giving any details. She had nodded knowingly, assuming, I was sure, that Chris hadn’t planned anything special for me after all. I wanted to jump up and down and tell her how wrong she had been, but I managed to contain myself.

I was surprised when I didn’t hear from my mom on Sunday or Monday. Though Chris had been exaggerating when he said we talked every day, we did usually touch base several times a week. My mom liked to know what I was up to, how Chris and my friends were, whether or not I had found any good sales lately. Our shared love of gossip was probably a big part of what kept us close. So it was strange when I still hadn’t heard from her by Tuesday afternoon. When I called the house after work to see if I could bring anything, she didn’t answer, and she didn’t return my call by the time Chris arrived.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked Chris as we made our way outside.

“I meant to pick up some ear plugs on my way,” he said drily as he opened the car door for me. When I raised an eyebrow at him, he continued, “for all the screaming you and your mother will do.”

My parents lived about forty minutes away from my apartment in Royal Oak, in an area typically known as Downriver, due to its position south of Detroit. My parents lived in an older community right on the river. Their house, a hundred year old colonial, was one of my favorite places in the world. My mother had spent almost her entire marriage renovating and improving on it until it looked like the kind of house you could find in
Better
Homes and Gardens
magazine. It was cozy and warm; there was usually a fire burning in the fireplace and delicious smells coming from the kitchen. I always felt safe when I was there.

As Chris headed out toward the city, I pushed away the unease I’d been feeling all afternoon. My mom was probably just busy. She liked to go all out when people came over for dinner. She was a fantastic hostess. She was probably, like, baking a pie or something. Or maybe my dad had forgotten to put the cordless phone back on the charger—he was forever doing stuff like that. I smiled as I thought about my absentminded, sweet dad, and felt my excitement swell. The important thing was that I was going to tell them I was engaged tonight, and I could hardly wait. I could just imagine the look on my mom’s face when I showed her the ring. She was going to be thrilled. I knew it. She’d probably tell me that she told me so, but I didn’t care—I was too happy.

“So,” I said, turning to Chris. “How should we do this?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes on the road.

“I mean, how should we tell them?” I rolled my eyes at his cluelessness. How did boys manage to stay so even keeled about everything?

“Um, we say, hey mom and dad, we decided to get engaged.”

I slapped his arm lightly. “That’s no fun! Come on, don’t you want to make a big deal about it? It’s pretty huge news, you know.”

“I know,” he said, reaching over to take my hand. He held it against his leg, cradled in his. “Which is why we don’t need to dress it up with some silly announcement plan. Isn’t telling them enough?”

I sighed a little and slumped back in my seat. “I guess you’re right,” I muttered.

Chris was silent for a little bit, but I felt his eyes flick in my direction more than once. Finally he let out a soft chuckle. “Fine, how do you want to tell them?”

I sat up straight again, brightening. “Let’s see…we could…hmm, maybe I should have thought about this earlier. It needs to be exciting.” I pulled out my phone, prepared to search for “creative engagement announcements” on Google.

“How about I ask to say a toast at dinner,” Chris said, interrupting my search. “I could toast to our happy marriage. And then you can show them the ring.”

“I like it,” I said, beaming. “It’s to the point but still gives them that surprise factor I like.”

“And it’s not too cheesy,” Chris said laughing. “Though I know you think the cheesier the better.”

I made a face at him but he only laughed.

As it turned out, Chris never got a chance to give a toast. As soon as we pulled up in the driveway at my parents’ house, I had a feeling things weren’t going to go the way that we had planned. My earlier sense of unease returned, magnified by several degrees. My mom’s car wasn’t in its usual spot in the drive.

“I thought they’d both be home,” I muttered.

“Maybe her car’s in the garage?” Chris offered.

I shook my head. “Neither of them parks there. You know, all my dad’s stuff is there. She’s always bugging him about clearing it out so they can use it.” My dad was an avid woodworker, a hobby he had picked up in the last three years, ever since my younger sister Amy had moved away for college and my parents had become empty nesters.

“Well, maybe she ran out to get something for dinner.”

But she hadn’t just run out. And she had forgotten all about dinner. I knew it as soon as my dad answered the door. Before he even opened his mouth, I knew something was wrong. There was a look on his face I had never seen before. His skin looked pale, waxy almost, and an air of exhaustion seemed to emanate from him. He was dressed as he normally was, in work slacks and a sweater, but his clothes looked rumpled. Was that a shirttail untucked beneath his sweater? Something was very wrong.

“Daddy?” I reached out for his hand. “What’s the matter?”

“Ashley?” he asked, staring at me as if he was confused. “What are you doing here?”

I looked at Chris, worried.

“We’re here for dinner, Dad,” I said. “We arranged it before you left for your trip, remember?”

His face seemed to clear slightly, and he made room for us to come in. “Of course, of course,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, baby, it must have slipped my mind. Come in, come in.”

I followed him into the house, my concern ratcheting up a notch. My mother’s house, normally spotless, looked almost messy. When was the last time she had dusted? Shoes were cluttered near the front door, there were glasses scattered on the coffee table in the living room, and from the foyer, I thought I could see a full sink in the kitchen.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked, noticing immediately the way that my dad flinched at the sound of her name. I felt something cold creep into my stomach. What was going on?

“She, ah, she went out, sweetie. I’m sorry, we both must have forgotten about dinner. It’s so awful of us. Why don’t you take off your coats? Uh,” he looked around the living room as if noticing the mess for the first time. “On the other hand, why don’t we go out? Just the three of us?”

“Dad, what’s going on?” When he just looked at me, helplessly, I reached out and took his hand again. “You look terrible. Come sit down.”

He sighed and walked into the living room, sinking down on the couch. I watched, horrified, as he buried his head in his hands.

“Daddy?” I whispered.

“She’s gone, Ash,” he said, his voice a low rasp that sent shivers down my arms.

“What do you mean?” I asked, not understanding. I sat on the couch next to him, wishing he would look up at me. “Who’s gone?”

“Your mother,” he whispered. Then he raised his head, and I realized it had been better, much better when I couldn’t see his eyes. “Your mother left me.”

* * *

Half an hour later, my father was sitting in his recliner, a large brandy in his hand, staring lifelessly at the hockey game on TV while Chris and I huddled over the sink in the kitchen.

“I can’t believe this,” I said, for at least the tenth time. “I just can’t believe it.”

Chris looked about as shocked as I felt. “Didn’t you see her last week? You didn’t have any idea?”

“Of course not,” I snapped, then immediately felt bad. Chris had been amazing since my dad told us the news. To my horror, my dad had started sobbing, something I hadn’t seen him do ever in my life, not even when I was a teenager and my grandmother, his mom, had died. I could do nothing but stare at him in horror, too shocked and disbelieving to even hug him. Chris had totally taken charge, coming to sit on my dad’s other side on the couch, rubbing his arm and offering tissues, urging my father to relax. He poured him a drink, got him settled in his favorite chair with some sports for distraction, and then got me to help him start cleaning up. We were nearly finished with the dishes now.

“Sorry,” I said, looking down at the soapy water. “I don’t mean to snap…”

“Ash, it’s fine,” he said firmly. “You don’t need to worry about being polite right now, okay?”

I managed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

Chris took the last glass from my hands and dried it, setting it carefully in its spot in my mother’s top-of-the-line, glass-fronted cabinets. She had just had the kitchen remodeled that summer. I had sat through countless phone calls where all she wanted to talk about were her granite choices and the pros and cons of a stainless steel gas range. Now her perfect kitchen looked cold, somehow, and impersonal.

I leaned into the counter. “I just don’t understand how this could have happened. I thought they were happy.”

“You should probably go talk to him,” Chris said, glancing down the hall. “He seems to have calmed down now. Maybe he can tell you what happened.”

I dried my hands on the dishtowel he offered and headed back out to the living room, perching on the couch across from my dad. He looked up at me and gave me a weak smile. “Sorry, Ash, to lose it like that,” he said. He looked much more like himself now, though still pale. The desolate look was still in his eyes, but not quite so pronounced as it had been. “I’m just so worried, I guess. And shocked.”

“It’s okay, Daddy,” I told him. “Do you think you feel up to telling me what happened now?”

He sighed and set his glass on the end table beside his recliner. “When I got home from my trip Friday, she had a suitcase by the door. She told me she was tired of her life, of our life, and she needed some space.” He flinched as he said it, and I felt a rush of sympathy for him.

“She didn’t give you any other reason?”

He shook his head. “She wouldn’t even talk to me. She won’t answer my calls. She hasn’t been back. I just…I just don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll call her,” I said. “I’ll call her right now.”

“Will you?” he asked, his face lighting up in a way that broke my heart. “I’m sure she’ll answer the phone for you.”

I got up and walked over to the entryway where I had dropped my purse, rooting around in it until I found my cell phone. My mother’s cell was the first one on my speed dial. She picked up on the third ring. “Ashley,” she said, sounding happy, normal. “Sweetie, how are you?”

I felt a flash of anger at her. How could she sound like this, like nothing was wrong? It wasn’t fair, not with my dad sitting in the next room, completely crushed.

“I’m with Daddy,” I said, my voice icy. I heard her draw in a sharp intake of air.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said. “You poor thing. I should have called you. I was going to call you, I just wanted to give it a little time.”

“A little time?” I snapped. “You left days ago. You thought it was better for him to be all alone this whole time?”

“Your father is a grown man,” she said, her voice taking on an edge. “He doesn’t need you to look after him.”

“He needs someone here,” I shot back, my heart beating faster. “He should be with someone who loves him, considering his wife walked out on him.”