Everything You Need (12 page)

Chapter 13

Alanis Morissette’s voice filled Kris’s ears as she lay on her bed, staring at the whiteness of the ceiling. The voice coming from the headphones sang about a whale trapped on a beach and about a butterfly caught in a spider’s web. At the end of the stanza, she quietly sang along.

She closed her eyes and saw Ashton’s wide back turned toward the door, the brunette’s arms around his neck.

You said that you love me.

I do.

She rolled on her side, drew her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
He loved her.
“Queen of pain.” She would get over this -- whatever this ache in her chest was -- she would; all she had to do was adjust to the new information that Ashton loved that brunette, Mary, and that was all. That was all.

The handle of the door moved up and down.

She blinked, rose up and pulled down the headphones.

“Kris!”

“Yes?” She stood and with the edge of her sleeve wiped her face.

“Phone. It’s Joanne.”

Another wipe of the cotton fabric over her face, before she walked to the door, unlocked it and opened it.

George stood on the other side of the door, the phone receiver in his outstretched hand. “Have you been crying?”

She frowned, took the phone and rubbed her face with the sleeve of her free hand. “I have a cold.”

“I was about to make tea, do you want some?”

“If you would be so kind.”

He nodded and strode to the kitchen.

He's always so kind,
she thought as she watched his tall and thin silhouette walking away. She closed the door and pressed the receiver against her ear. “Yes?”

“Where were you? And why aren’t you answering your mobile? Do you know how expensive calls are?” her mother said.

Now, she was finally thinking about cost. Kris sighed. “I’m here. What is it?”

“I only have a few smokes left.”

“I already said that I’m going to come and bring you cigarettes.” She had already taken a day off from work on Saturday. “Is that all? Is that why you were calling me?”

“No, I ran out of shampoo, too. Bring me some, and a box of hair colour, the natural blond one, the one with grey tones, not the yellow. I don’t want to turn yellow.”

“Anything else?” Kris lowered herself onto the armchair opposite to the bed, between her desk and bookcase. She rested her head on the edge of the chair while she dabbed her cheeks again. She was fine, just fine.

“Some dried plums.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“Are you ill?”

“What?”

“You told George that you have a cold and your voice sounds weird. You are going to come tomorrow, right?”

“If I said that I’ll come, I’ll come, and I’ll bring you all the stuff you want,” Kris said with a little harder voice that she had intended. “You don’t have to worry and call me all the time.”

“You don’t have to use that tone with me,” her mother said. “I’m only here because of you.”

“No, you are there because you promised Grandfather that you would go into rehab. I’m just making sure that you keep that promise.” And to keep the promise Kris had made to her grandfather, the reason that bound her to her mother, and because of which she had made sacrifices that she wouldn’t have otherwise. “He wanted you to go there for yourself, hoping it would help you. Why can’t you see that?”

The only answer she got were beeps; her mother had cut the connection.

“So mature.” She shook her head. She couldn’t even get angry anymore, only irritated. It felt as if she had lowered her expectations so much where her mother was concerned that she was on the brink of giving up on her. But she couldn’t give up on her. She could never give up on her. And not just because of her promise to grandfather, but because her mother was all that she had.

“Kris. Tea.”

“I’m coming,” she yelled. The mobile phone lying on the nightstand started to vibrate and she answered it. “Stop being so childish,” she said, thinking it was her mother.

“You’re the one not picking up and I’m the one who’s childish?” Ashton’s voice came from the speaker.

Ashton.
A strange kind of wistfulness washed over her. She closed her eyes.
You’re fine, Kris, you’re just fine. It’s not as if you’re in love with him.
She opened her eyes and cleared her throat, hoping that her voice would sound light and unburdened by the cold ache that weighted her chest. “Hey, Ashton. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to answer before.”

“Are you home?”

“Yeah.” With the phone against her ear she walked into the small living room where she set the land line’s receiver into its holder and walked into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Ashton asked her.

George, who stood by the sink, gave her the cup, turned around and leaned on the counter, his eyes following her.

“Nothing special.” She sat at the table at the end of the kitchen. “Why are you calling?”

“To hear your voice.”

She could imagine she heard a yearning in his warm voice, and she might even have believed him, if she hadn’t stumbled over the love scene with Mary, his not-girlfriend. “No, really, why are you calling?”

“Can we have a session on Saturday or Sunday?”

“Why?”

“Why? Why? Because I can’t wait until Thursday.”

She couldn’t, not on Saturday and not only because she had errands on Saturday. But she still owed him fifteen hours, which she should work off as soon as possible. By Sunday, she should be fine and ready to face him. “On Sunday, I have a shift in the morning, but I could come in the afternoon.”

“What about tomorrow? I would really like to see you tomorrow.”

“I’m busy.”

“With what?”

“Who is it?” George asked in a whisper.

“Is somebody there with you?” Ashton enquired.

“I have to go. I’ll come on Sunday, after three, okay?” she told Ashton, said goodbye to him and then not only hung up, but turned off her phone. She lifted her head and her eyes met with George’s, who stared at her. “What?”

“I assume that was not Joanne.”

“No, that was not my mother.”

“That’s strange, because whoever it was, you spoke with them the same way as you do with her. You must be quite close to them.” He took a sip of his tea, his brown eyes observing her over the cup.

Did she?
She frowned and leaned her elbow on the desk.

“I’m going to the shopping centre tomorrow. Do you want to come?”

“I have to visit Mum tomorrow, but if I give you a list and money, would you buy me some things? I would really appreciate it.” He had done her similar favours before, since he had a car and she only a bicycle.

“How long are you planning to stay at your mother’s? If it’s less than half an hour, I could drive you there and wait, and we could go shopping afterwards.”

“You’d do that?” That meant that, since she would be able to use coupons (she couldn’t ask George to use coupons for her), she would be able to save some money.

“Yes, I’d do that.” He smiled.

With him driving her to see her mother, her journey was reduced from three hours to one and a half, and they arrived at the big shopping centre in the east of the city before twelve. They decided that George would be in charge of the shopping cart and she would queue for bread and meat. They were in front of the shelves filled with yoghurt, when George commented, “Joanne looked well.”

“Yeah.” Since George usually went home at the weekend, he rarely crossed paths with her mother, and he had only seen her once.

“She looks healthier, but otherwise she hasn’t changed a bit,” he said.

Yes, her mother was the same self-absorbed, spoiled child who had gone into rehab half a year ago. “Yeah.”

“Have your tried the pineapple ones?” He grabbed a few pineapple yoghurts and put them into the cart. “They’re really good.”

“No. I haven’t.” How much were they? She glanced at the price. “Get two for me, too.” She pointed behind her at the aisles. “I’ll go get oatmeal and rice. Do you need anything?”

“Get some spaghetti, the thin kind.” Two more yoghurts joined the ones in the cart. “I’ll meet you by the bread.”

She nodded, turned, and had taken three steps when she noticed somebody staring at her in aisle two, where the sweets were. She froze. It was too soon, she wasn’t ready to face him yet. She needed a day, or at least an hour, to mentally prepare herself. She bit the inside of her cheek. It was just her luck, wasn’t it?

He strode toward her, blocking her way. “Kris,” he greeted her.

It didn’t matter that he loved that brunette. “Ashton,” she greeting him back, relieved when her voice, even though it was slightly higher, sounded normal.
Act normal. Just act normal.

His eyes slid past her. “Is that why you couldn’t come today?”

She half-turned to see who he was looking at. It was George. “No.”

“No? Are you certain?” He stepped closer. “Who is he?

She crossed her arms. It was none of his business, but she answered him anyway, “George, my tenant.”

“You two looked cosy.” His eyes narrowed.

Whatever.
She rolled her eyes, then glanced at George, who was staring at them. This was her chance to put some distance between them. “It was nice seeing you, but I have to go.” She took a step backwards.

He stepped forward. “Are you sleeping with him?”

“What?”

With a tensed jaw, he pronounced each word slowly. “Are you fucking him?”

What was wrong with him? He was the one in love with somebody else while he was sleeping with her, and he had the audacity to throw such a question at her? Her eyebrows lowered.
Why should he be the only one sleeping around?
“Yes, I am.” She turned on her heel and walked away.

He grabbed her arm. “Kris!”

“Let go of me.”
Please, let go of me.

His grip loosened, but he still held onto her. “We need to talk.”

“Let go of me. Right now, or I’m going to scream,” she said in a low voice. From the corner of her eye, she saw George rushing her way.

Ashton released her.

George reached them. “Is this man bothering you?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, he is.” She shifted away from Ashton and closer to George.

She could feel the warmth of Ashton’s body against her back as he moved to her side. “Does he know?”

“Know what?” George asked.

She pinched her mouth together as she, over her shoulder, scowled at Ashton. He didn’t answer George.
How noble of him -- not!
She faced George. “That I’m
fucking
him.” Her hand flew to her mouth, but she caught herself before it could reach her face and she curled her fingers around the collar of her hoodie.

Ashton’s jaw clenched.

George blinked.

She forced herself to relax her fingers. “We have to go,” she said without a glance in Ashton’s direction. She hooked her arm with George’s and pulled him with her as she directed her step toward their shopping cart. “I’m sorry about that,” she whispered to George.

“I can’t believe you said that. It’s so not you.”

“I know. I can’t believe it, either.”

“Is this your Saturday appointment?” Over his shoulder, George glanced backwards. “He looks pissed off.”

“He’s such a hypocrite.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He put his arm over her shoulder.

Her spine stiffened, but she didn’t dare slip away from George’s touch in case Ashton was still watching them.

George glanced over his shoulder again. “He looks even angrier now. I have never seen somebody so jealous.”

“He’s not jealous.” He couldn’t be, could he? She risked a peek at Ashton, who stood by the pet food aisle, right where she had left him, with his arms by his sides and his hands fisted as he glowered at them. What was his problem?

“If I had known that you were open to dating, I would have asked you out.”

“What?”

He smiled. “I’ve always liked you, and for some time I even imagined myself in love with you. Don’t look so scared. Since you refused all of my attempts to take you out, I got over it.”

“What?” She shifted away from him. “You tried to ask me out?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice it.”

“No.”

“Would you have gone out with me if you had?”

“I don’t know. My mum...”

“Yeah.” He nodded and wrapped his hand around the handle of the shopping cart. “Joanne monopolises most of your time. She fills your world and keeps you busy and on your toes.” He wrinkled his forehead. “How did he get you?” He glanced back at the aisle with pet food. “He’s good looking, but... How did he manage to make you notice him?”