Chapter 12
Ash had become very lonely. Not only were his friends and his wife fed up with him lying to himself, but so was Tracy. He never thought Tracy actually cared about their relationship, he just assumed he was promiscuous or experimenting with the same sex.
Roady's bar was open until three A.M. and it was just past two thirty. An older woman with crunchy blond hair and a rough voice set him up with another round of tequila. "You got a ride home, buddy?"
"Yea," He lied and chugged the shot, feeling the burn in his throat. It was strange. The more he drank, the less he thought about Tracy. The bartender walked away and Ash supposed that was alright, he needed to give his esophagus a break from the burn of liquor.
Then, he saw something that surprised him…
Lucy Harrison sat at the end of the bar, sipping a pink coloured drink in a martini glass. She bit off one of the skewed olives of her drink and looked over at him, smiling. A little wobbly, she stood to her feet and made her way over to Ash, where she sloshed her drink on the counter and grinned towards him.
"What brings you here?" She asked, taking another sip of her martini.
"My wife left me." Ash answered obviously. "I'm sure you've heard about it, Lucy. C'mon. The real question is, why are you here?"
Lucy giggled and smiled over at a single man who was busy ordering her another martini. "I didn't get any sex tonight. I don't know what Brock's problem was, but we were just about ready to and he just stops." She shook her head and graciously accepted the drink. "We got in a huge fight and I left and came here just to flirt with some guys and get some free drinks. He took off somewhere too."
Ash raised an eyebrow. "Oh, did he?" He ordered up another round of tequila and added a shot for Lucy. He knew she drank like a fish. "Where do you think he went?"
"Beats me." Lucy finished off her martini and reached for the shot glass of tequila. "All I know is if he's not having sex with me, he is obviously getting it somewhere else. There would be no other reason a man would ever turn me down." She threw back the shot and slammed it down on the bar, causing Ash to jump a little.
"You got that right, Honey." Ash complimented her with a smile and she smiled back.
"You know, I could help you get over your little problem." Lucy grabbed his hand and pulled it towards her chest, tucking it on the inside of her plunging neckline. "I could help you win Misty over and you can practice on me all night long." She winked at him and at first, Ash hesitated.
But why?
Lucy was a very attractive, very drunk female. Plus, Brock had left her hanging and now she was desperate for any gratification at all. Ash saw his opportunity and he was going to take it.
"I think that sounds like a plan…" He replied and she led him out of the bar.
An entire week had came and went since she had last seen Brock. It was driving her insane, but she had made the decision to put aside her feelings for him and forget them. Ultimately she decided she wasn't going to answer his phone calls which plagued her phone at least five times a day, followed by a text message that told her he didn't know why she was ignoring him.
Brock could be so arrogant sometimes. Did he really think she was going to let him use her as an escape from Lucy. Well, she had done it once, and then twice, perhaps he was trying for a third time, but it wasn't going to be with her.
She was finished with Brock, no matter how much it hurt.
Violet sat with her across the table as the two of them peeled potatoes for dinner. Lance was making his delicious ranch mashed potatoes, his grandmother's old recipe. However, he had gone and run errands and Violet was alone with her little sister in the kitchen.
"So, I noticed there was, like, an awful lot of sand in the shower last week." Violet mentioned, not so casually. She pushed potato peelings into the trash and smiled up at Misty, wiping her hands free of grimy dirt from the potato skins.
"What?" Misty put down the spud she had in her hands. "That…was…that was like last Saturday. Why bring it up now?"
"Because Lance has been around until now." She reminded her with a chuckle. "Can't have girl talk with a man around. Seriously… So, like, tell me what happened…"
"I went for a walk on the beach…" Scowling, Misty agitatedly tore the skin off the potato with her knife. Just when she was planning on forgetting Brock and the wonderful sex she had with him on the beach, Violet had to bring him up again.
"There was totally way to much sand in that shower just for you to, like, take a walk on the beach." Her sister reasoned. "You had sand in more places then just you're feet."
"Violet!"
"Before you try and lie to me again, that old rickety truck of his totally woke me up out of my sleep when he pulled up. I was totally bummed out at first, but then, like I realized it was Brock." She informed her with a smile. "I saw you two go off somewhere. Plus, you've been walking around this house all week like you're on cloud nine."
Blushing, Misty looked away from her. "I wasn't planning on sleeping with him again. It was just supposed to be a walk, but it turned into way more."
"Has he called you since?"
"Yes. Everyday. But, I've decided I'm not going to see him anymore."
"Misty! Are you crazy?" Violet dropped her knife on the table. "He's Brock! Do you know how many girls would have totally killed to be with him back in college? I was one of them."
Misty looked up at her sister and sighed. "He's a married man, Violet. I can't just continue to sleep with him behind Lucy's back. It's wrong."
"Doesn't feel so wrong when you're doing it though, does it?" Violet began to slice the potatoes.
"It's not just that." The redhead confessed, a seriousness clouded her eyes. "Every time he makes love to me, or kisses me or…even if he so much as looks at me, I feel myself falling more and more in love with him. It's just torturing myself and I am not going to be his ego booster."
Her sister twisted her face in agreement. "Bummer. I guess you're right. But, hey, there is, like, other fish in the sea."
A knock was at the door and both of them just assumed it was lance who was either too lazy to get his key out, or he had forgotten it. However, when Violet opened the door both of them were shocked to see that it was Ash and he looked very nervous.
Misty stood up by the table. "What do you want Ash? Why are you here?"
"Don't be…angry, OK?" Ash held his hands out in front of him as if to stop her from something. Misty's hard glare softened and she thought that if she ever saw Ash again, she would fall back in love with him and be hurt all over again, but every feeling that she had ever had for Ash was gone. Completely.
Clearing her throat, Violet regarded him. "My husband is going to home soon. He's probably not going to want you here."
"It's alright, Violet." Ash nodded towards her. "This won't take long. I just…have to tell Misty something." He made no attempt to step towards her, or beg for her forgiveness or any of the things she thought he would do.
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "I'm…I'm gay."
Violet's mouth fell open and Misty was paralyzed with shock. Of course she already knew he was gay, but she never thought in a million years he would admit it. Tears came to his eyes and he pulled her into his embrace. A completely, non-sexual embrace that Misty couldn't help but return.
"Ash…"
"Please, Misty, don't hate me. Please. I love you. I really do, but…not in the way you were wanting me to…" Ash wiped a tear from his cheek and sniffled. Ah, it felt so good to be free. To be comfortable in his own skin.
But he still had to come out to his mother and he wasn't sure if that was even possible.
"Ash, I don't hate you. Nobody does. I was just…confused…" She looked towards her older sister then back at Ash. "But I'll be OK, Ash. I promise. Now I just want to see you happy."
"Maybe one day I will be." He gave them both a smile and looked towards the door. "Misty, I just want to let you know…I'm here for you if you need to talk. Friends?"
"Friends." She agreed.
A cold, lonely wind raged across the harbor. Brock studied the water. Black with sparkling diamonds of moonlight and never standing still. It was beautiful and it reminded him of Misty.
He felt for his cell phone which was tucked into his pocket. It was almost ten o'clock but he was sure she was still awake. Maybe he could try her again. It was driving him insane not knowing why she wasn't talking to him.
It was probably because she felt used and no woman liked feeling that way. Well, all women except maybe for Lucy. He sighed and hesitantly dialed her number, after five long rings, it went straight to her voicemail and instead of leaving a message like he had a few times before, he just hung up.
Silence again. It was so quiet he could even hear the sloshing of the water smacking against the cement beams of the bridge. It was relaxing to him and it made him think about the crash of the waves on the Cerulean City beaches.
Brock leaned against the rail and then he heard the quiet, timid footsteps of Neal Dash. It was unmistakably him and he looked back to see the old man hobbling up to him, wide-eyed and awake.
"Hey there, my boy…" Neal winked and leaned against the strong, steel rail beside Brock.
"Hey Neal. I haven't seen you in a while." His jaw tightened a little and his eyes seemed to stare off into the distance towards Mount Moon, knowing that just over the other side of it was Misty. And he could go to Cerulean City and just force her to talk to him, but what good would that do? If she wanted to talk to him she would.
"I've been around." The old man said, removing his hat. "What are you doing out here so late? It's getting might cold out here for mid-September. Think we're in for a cold one?"
Sighing, Brock shook his head. "It wouldn't matter if we are. I'll be miserable either way."
Neal looked towards him for a moment and then out towards the harbor. "You're givin' up to early, Son. It ain't over yet." He looked towards Brock. "It's that girl isn't it?"
He just grinned. Of course it was Misty. It was always her.
"Yea, I know." Neal chuckled a bit and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You need to have a little talk with the man upstairs."
"What are you talking about?." Brock made note of his phone again and quickly put the idea of trying to call her again out of his mind.
Neal smiled and pointed up towards the night sky. Brock looked up and gave him a weak smile.
"I've tried that." He looked down towards his feet. "Doesn't work."
"It does!"
"What do you know?"
Neal scratched his bald head and laughed. "'lot more than you think I do."
"Yea right."
Grinning the old man summoned him closer. Reluctantly Brock leaned towards him and the old man looked him in the eye. "I know you're Flint Harrison's boy."
"Y-you know my father?" Stunned by this news, Brock suddenly felt the urge to run.
"Boy, your father was the one who took my wife and daughter's life twenty-seven years ago." Neal confessed, inviting him to take a seat on the bench next to him. Intrigued, Brock followed him and realized his throat was very dry.
"Neal, I…I didn't know it was your family." He huddled into his jacket as the night air seemed to become colder. "I'm sorry…"
"Don't be, boy." He gave him a snaggle-toothed smile. "Like I said, I've forgiven him. Plus, he must have done something right if he raised a good boy like yourself. Wouldn't want to wish anything bad on the man, or anyone for that matter."
Brock leaned forward and linked his fingers together. "So, why did you save my life? I don't understand. Don't you believe in an eye for an eye?"
Neal shook his head. "Losing a child is an awful feeling. Even though your father took a child from me, I never wanted to see that happen to him. I recognized that look in your eye. The one that says there ain't no hope. But you have to see that there is. It just takes a little faith in the man upstairs." He patted him on the back.
"Yea…I guess you're right. So, what do I do now?" Brock asked. "Misty won't talk to me."
"Use your faith, Son." The old man winked and stood up.
Brock stood up with him. "What? Can't he give me some kind of sign of what I'm supposed to do?" He was desperate for anything. He never really believed praying to some unknown, unseen power worked, even though he did it for his mother's sake every Sunday morning.
But right now, he would take anything.
"Maybe he already done it." The old man stood up and nodded his head towards him. "You be safe now."
For a long moment he watched Neal walk down the bridge until he disappeared into the darkness. It was getting late and he was just about to turn around and get back into his truck when he saw something on the bench.
It was small and sparkly, shimmering against the weather-warn wood of the seat. With shaky hands he picked it up and instantly recognized it.
It was Misty's ring. The same one he threw into the harbor just a few months before. It should have been gone! It should have at least been ruined by algae and weather exposure. But here it was. Still shiny, gold and beautiful. Not a diamond was missing out of it.
In disbelief, Brock looked around for Neal, but there was no sign of him. He had probably gone to the shelter for the night to get away from the cold winds. Somehow he knew that Neal had retrieved that ring for him and it was not a duplicate. This style was discontinued years ago and even if it wasn't, there was no way Neal could have afforded a new one.
He looked heavenward for a few moments, silently picking out the constellations in the sky, then back down at the ring before dropping it into his pocket. This was his sign and he knew what he had to do.
An unexpected visit from Delia Ketchum came Sunday afternoon. Lance answered the door and let the older, but still very beautiful woman inside. Politely, he offered her a cup of tea which she declined and immediately requested to speak with Misty.
Violet volunteered to go up and get her. Needless to say, Misty was shocked to hear that Delia had come to talk to her and she was weary to go downstairs and speak with her. Was she angry with her? Disappointed? Had Ash told his mother what he had told her just a day before.
When she descended the stairs, Delia offered her a warm, soft smile and Misty began to relax. "Hi Mrs. Ketchum."
"Oh, Honey, you can still call me Delia…" The older woman took a seat beside Misty and folded her hands in her lap.
Lance cleared his throat. "Violet…we have a…thing. Remember?"
"Oh…that's right. A thing." She smiled at the two of them and followed her husband upstairs. Delia just laughed.
"They do know how to exit gracefully, don't they?" She asked, trying to set the mood as casual.
Misty chuckled. "Yea…"
"You're probably wondering why I traveled two hours to speak to you when there is telephones, but what I have to tell you is better said in person." Ash's mother had let her hair down out of it's usual lose ponytail and it fell around her shoulders softly. Her heavy lashes framed her sad eyes and she fiddled a bracelet on her wrist.
"I'm ready…"
"Ash told me that he had already told you what was going on with him." She ran her fingers through her thick brown hair nervously. "He told me this morning that he was…he was gay." Her voice faltered and Misty could tell she was thinking about Spencer and how he had come out to her.
"Yes, he told me…" She confirmed.
Smiling, Delia dabbed her eyes a little. "I told him I still loved him. He's my baby. I always will. But I feel like I've kept something from you. Something you should have known before you married Ash, rather it was significant or not…" Her hand gripped the tissue she held in her hands.
Misty made eye contact with her and took a deep breath. "Yes?"
"When Ash was in college, about five years ago…his father had left me for Chet Wilkins." She began. "I was so devastated and I was all alone in Pallet Town, I decided I needed to go see the only family member had and that was Ash. He was away in college up in Pine Valley. He owned his own apartment and I was going to stay with him for a weekend just to get away from…everything."
Listening intently, Misty prepared herself for the story.
"When I got to Ash's apartment, I knocked, but there was no answer. As a mother, I became worried and just walked in. His bedroom door was slightly open, so I figured I could go in…and…when I did--" She stopped and took a ragged breath. "I saw him with a boy. They were in his bed, together. They both saw me, but by the time they were decent enough to confront me I had left and was on my way back to Pallet Town."
"So, you…knew Ash was gay?" Misty questioned her, clearly confused.
She shook her head. "I suspected it. But I never, ever brought it up again because I had just been devastated by Spencer and I didn't want Ash to think he had to come clean about something like that when his family was falling apart over the very same thing."
It was shocking. Ash never seemed gay in high school. She thought it was something that happened to him after they had started their relationship, but clearly it was something that had manifested itself way back before they had dated.
"I'm sorry I never told you, Misty." Delia grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "You have been so good to Ash and you really didn't deserve to be hurt like that. You're a good girl."
She felt a tear come to her eye. A good girl? Was she really? No, not when she had been having an affair with a married man. She didn't feel so good about that.
"Thank you, Delia." Misty offered her a smile and she returned it. "I completely understand where you're coming from. But what I don't understand is why Ash would confess something like this after trying so hard to cover it up…"
"It doesn't make any sense to me either," murmured Delia.
 | Review this Chapter |
No comments:
Post a Comment