No Attachments

chapter 23: Wilma

Ashton

Two hours later, I was ready and sitting on my couch watching another episode of my show when he knocked on the door once before entering. Relieved he was back, I jumped to my feet as he strode across the room and gathered me in his arms.

"Woman, what kind of spell have you cast over me that I don't like to be away from you for even a few hours," he said, showering kisses over my exposed neck.

"Well, I may have slipped you a love potion," I said without thinking. I instantly regretted my words, wishing I could recall them. Mentioning "love," no matter how innocent, went completely against the rules we had set.

He stiffened for a moment and I wished I could've bitten off my tongue. "It must be working because I feel completely intoxicated when I'm with you," he finally said, cupping my face in his hands and placing a kiss on each corner of my mouth before going all in. Thank god he didn't take my words seriously.

"By the way, you look amazing," he said, breaking the kiss. "Did you wear your hair up again to drive me nuts?" he asked, fingering a tendril that had escaped the elaborate twist I had gathered my hair in.

"Why, is it working?" I asked with false innocence.

"If you consider the inner battle I'm struggling with: whether I should take you out and let other guys gawk at you, or whether I should drag you to bed and show you just what your pinned up hair does to me," he growled, pulling me close.

"I thought guys liked girls to wear their hair down?"

"Not with a delectable neck like yours. Your neck begs to be kissed. It's as appetizing as any banquet and twice as appealing," he murmured. "Now, stop distracting me, I have a surprise for you," he added, suddenly looking jittery.

"A surprise?"

"I left it in the car. You wait here," he said, still looking slightly off.

Puzzled at what the surprise could be, I waited in the center of the room for him to return.

"Okay, sit on the couch and close your eyes," he said, cracking the front door open a fraction to give me the instructions.

I settled on my couch, mystified with my eyes closed. I heard him push the door open and then shut.

"Okay, open your eyes," he said just as I heard a little meowing noise.

"Oh my," I gasped, taking in the little fluff ball in his hands. "You got me a kitten?" I asked, quietly.

"If you don't want her, I'll keep her," Nathan said, sitting across from me with the small orange kitten cradled in his hands.

"I've always wanted a cat, but the time never seemed right," I said, stroking a finger down the soft fur of her neck.

"Right now sounds like a good time to me," he said, handing her over.

"Oh my," I repeated. "She's so tiny and fluffy."

"She's the runt of the litter and the last one to be claimed."

"I know nothing about cats," I objected, knowing it wouldn't be fair to take her when my future was so uncertain, and yet, I wanted her with a sudden passion that shocked me. Maybe it was her soft purring or the way she snuggled in my lap, but she already felt like mine.

"That's the wonderful thing about Google. Any questions you have are at your fingertips. She's already been fixed and given a clean bill of health from the vet."

"When did you set all this up?" I asked, stroking a hand down the kitten's back.

"I went and picked her up yesterday. She spent the night at the vet and is ready for her new home."

"What should I name her?" I asked, holding her up so I could look in her cute squished face.

"Whatever you want. She's all yours."

"What's your cat's name?"

He laughed. "Fred."

"Fred?"

"Yeah, like Fred Flintstone. I'm a huge Flintstones fan."

"I've heard of the cartoon, but I've never seen it," I admitted.

"That makes my heart weep," he said, clutching his chest dramatically. "I will have to rectify that."

"Okay, so what's a girl name from the show?"

"Fred's wife's name is Wilma."

"Wilma?" I asked with disbelief. "Are you a Wilma?" I asked the kitten who gave a plaintive meow.

"Sounds like she likes it to me."

"Wilma it is," I said, setting her back on my lap.

"I'm going to go get the rest of her stuff; that way she can explore the cottage and know where her litter box is," Nathan said, patting Wilma on the head before heading back outside.

We had a little time before we had to leave, so Wilma and I got to know each other. She was a smart kitten and showed off by using her litter box as soon as I placed her in it.

"We better head out," Nathan finally said, glancing at his watch.

"Is it okay to leave her?" I asked worriedly.

"Cats are amazingly sufficient. I bet she'll sleep the whole time we're gone and then keep us up half the night trying to play," he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "Besides, if we don't head out, I may have to dine on your appetizing neck," he said, placing a kiss there.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure if I should be flattered or not, being compared to food," I said laughing as I stepped out of his arms. "Besides, you already promised me a movie, so your meal will have to wait. I already perused the show times and have the perfect chick flick picked out for us to see," I teased, grabbing my purse and cellphone off the couch. I ran my hand over Wilma's back one last time where she was curled up asleep in a ball on my couch.

"That's fine. I can think of plenty of things I could do to you in a dark theater," he threw my way, making me stumble as pictures of what he could do also filled my head.

He laughed at my expression, linking his fingers through mine. "Kidding. I'm sure the theater will be packed today, but it is fun to think about what we could do if we did have a theater to ourselves," he added.

"Have you ever?" I asked, morbidly curious about his past experiences.

"Done it in a theater?" he asked, opening the vehicle door.

I nodded, climbing in and buckling my seatbelt.

"No, and until you, I never even had the thought," he said, closing the door on my startled expression.

The forty-mile drive to the theater passed quickly as Nathan peppered me with questions about my childhood. He steered clear of anything painful that involved my mom, and instead focused on what high school had been like for me. I skirted around my illness and filled him in on what it had been like before I'd gotten sick, back when I thought my toughest problem was trying out for the cheerleading squad. I was still answering his endless questions when he pulled into the parking lot of the theater.

"So, what chick flick did you pick?" he asked.

"The one with the horse," I said innocently, pointing to a poster where a young girl was hugging the neck of a black stallion.

"Really?" he asked.

"Sure, why does it not look good to you?" I asked, trying to not snicker and give myself away.

"Almost as good as getting a root canal," he said, studying the poster hard as if he was hoping to find a demon hiding in it or something that would at least redeem it a little.

I doubled over laughing at the expression on his face. "I was kidding," I said between my peals of laughter. "I want to see the spy movie," I said when I was finally able to talk clearly.

"You think you're funny?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me and twirling me around.

"If you would have seen your face," I said, laughing again. "It was classic."

"Funny for you. Meanwhile, I was wondering if I poked my eye out if you would still make me watch it," he said, heading for the ticket booth.

"Lucky for you, I've never been into fluffy movies like that either."

"That's a relief," he said, purchasing two tickets.

Much to my disappointment, the movie I picked was super-crowded. We found a couple of seats together, sandwiched between two elderly couples. Nathan smiled at me wryly as we took our seats; obviously he was disappointed also.

Nathan held my hand throughout the movie, stroking his fingers across the back of my hand in a seemingly innocent way, except for the fact that I couldn't help thinking about where else his fingers had stroked me. Eventually, though, I lost myself in the twists and turns in the plot of the film.

"What did you think?" he asked once the credits were rolling across the screen and the houselights had been turned on.

"Despite the lack of horses, it was good," I joked, making my way down the steps toward the exit.

He laughed. "Oh yeah, I was quite disappointed no horses needed to be saved."

"Not to mention, there was hardly any bicycle riding," I quipped as he laughed again even harder.

"True, and no trunks with boobies in them," he said loudly, earning him a glare from the older couple that had been sitting beside him. "Too loud?" he asked me as they brushed past us, obviously disgusted with our conversation.

"Maybe a bit," I laughed.

"What time is Tressa expecting us?" he asked, glancing at his watch as we stepped out of the theater.

"Around eight," I said, zipping up my jacket against the wind that had the snow from the ground swirling. "You think Wilma is okay?" I asked, already more attached to the kitten than I probably should be.

"I bet a hundred bucks she's still sleeping where we left her," he reassured me, reaching for my hand to help me step over one of the snowdrifts. "It's six now, so we have time for a bite to eat. Do you have a preference?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Pretty much anything."

"How about steak?" he asked, plugging the information into the GPS on his phone.

"That works," I said, climbing into the vehicle.

"Great. It says there's a steak restaurant right up the road."

The restaurant was busy since it was a Saturday night, so we chose to eat at one of the small round tables in the bar area.

"What can I get you to drink?" a short-skirted waitress asked.

"Can I get a rum and Coke?" I asked.

"ID?" she asked, not looking up from her pad.

Ignoring Nathan's grin, I reached in my purse and pulled out my wallet. She glanced at it briefly before handing it back. "You?" she asked, turning to Nathan.

"Vodka on the rocks."

"ID," she said again, making me chuckle.

"Seriously?" Nathan asked.

"Don't take it personally. I card anyone who looks younger than fifty," she said, smiling at us for the first time.

"Don't mind him. He thinks he exudes maturity and wisdom," I said dryly.

"Compared to the immature idiots I've dated, that's not a bad thing. I'd hold on to this one if I were you. He sounds like a keeper to me."

"Why do I suddenly feel like livestock?" Nathan asked as the waitress headed toward the bar to put in our drink order.

"Well…" I started to say as my phone chirped, letting me know I had a text. It was from Tressa, checking to see if we were still coming. Her nerves were obviously getting the best of her. See you soon, I typed back before stowing my phone in my bag.

"Your friend?"

"Yeah. She was just checking to make sure we were still coming," I said as the waitress returned with our drinks and took our dinner order.

"Whatever happened to your other friend? The one who was at the bar with you the night we met?"

"Brittni? She's at a teaching conference in Seattle until Monday."

"Really? I wouldn't have pegged her for a teacher."

"I said the same thing when I first found out, but supposedly, she's like the kid whisperer or something. Personally, I think she scares them into listening," I joked. "She's definitely different. I think she was burned by some guy a few years back. Ironically, it was when she was in school in Seattle. Tressa did tell me she wound up transferring here at the end of her sophomore year. She's a bit intense, but still awesome," I said, suddenly feeling awkward at the way he was studying me. "Do I have something on my face?"

"No, nothing like that. I just like how your face lights up when you talk about your friends. You obviously like them a lot," he answered as our waitress returned to the table with our dinner.

"I do. They both welcomed me with open arms," I said, digging into my dinner while he continued to study me. "Aren't you hungry?" I asked.

"I have something I need to tell you first," he said, looking more serious than I had ever seen him.

"Okay? Should I be worried?"

"First, I need to tell you what this week has meant to me," he said just as my phone rang.

Talk about saved by the bell. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear what he had to say. I answered my phone without taking my eyes from Nathan's. I had to swallow a sudden lump in my throat before I could speak.

"Hello," I finally managed.

"I need you to come now," Tressa whispered in the receiver.

"What?" I asked, not sure I heard her right.

"You have to come now. The date is a complete disaster. I need you to come smooth it over," she pleaded.

"Seriously? What have you done to my confident friend who's not afraid of anything?" I asked her as Nathan's lips quirked at my question.

"She's gone," she hissed into the receiver. "Hurry, please," she demanded before abruptly hanging up on me.

"What was that about?" Nathan asked.

"Tressa. She's totally freaking out. She wants us to come now. Do you mind?" I asked, trying to ignore where our conversation had been going before my phone had interrupted it.

"Nah. I still owe her for the other night," he said, signaling our waitress for the check.

The waitress brought us to-go boxes with the check, not commenting on the sudden departure. Whatever Nathan had been about to say was forgotten as we headed to the small club where we were supposed to meet Tressa and her date. I certainly wasn't going to bring it up. I just wanted to put it out of my mind as we made our way through the smoky room looking for Tressa.

"Ashton, over here," a voice called out to our left as we were halfway to the bar.

"I'm so glad you made it," she said, giving me an exuberant hug that seemed a little too forced.

"You okay?" I whispered in her ear.

"No. I'm a complete wreck. I'm sure he thinks I'm a total assface," she whispered before releasing me. "Ashton, I'd like you to meet Travis. Travis goes to school with me. Travis, this is my friend, Ashton and her friend, Nathan," Tressa said in a rush, trying to get all the introductions out in one breath.

"Nice to meet you, man," Nathan said, reaching past me to shake Travis's hand.

"Same here," Travis answered, pumping Nathan's hand before releasing it and reaching for mine. "Ashton, I've heard all about you," Travis said, sliding back in the booth next to Tressa after running his eyes down my frame before settling on my breasts. I rolled my eyes.

"Really?" I asked, sliding in across from Tressa.

"Yeah, I was telling him about your bucket list," Tressa said, biting back a yelp when I kicked her under the table. She clammed up immediately. Travis, unfortunately, who was oblivious to my silent insistence, took up where she'd left off.

"It's seems pretty f*cked up to me," he said, taking a drink. I resisted the urge to kick him also. "I expected you to be all decked out in black, all morbid-like. Don't get me wrong, some Goth chicks are hot," he added.

"Your list is a bucket list?" Nathan asked, looking confused.

"It's for a paper I plan on writing," I lied, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me.

"Yeah, some kind of thesis thing," Tressa interjected, trying to be helpful, knowing she'd put her foot in her mouth. "So, what movie did you guys see?" she asked as Nathan continued to study me.

Keeping my eyes averted from his, I went into a lengthy discussion about the movie, hoping to keep the conversation from returning to my list. I doubted he would figure out the true nature of the significance of the list, but a nagging voice in my head kept taunting me, reminding me he was a reporter. If he tried hard enough, he'd be able to connect all the dots. I would have to tell him the truth before he figured it out.

"Shit, I guess we don't need to go see it," Travis quipped after I finished describing the movie.

"Oops, sorry. I guess I went a little overboard," I apologized, even though I really wasn't sorry. As long as the conversation was far from my list, I was happy.

"It's all good. We probably wouldn't have seen it anyway. It sounds boring. More of an older people flick. No offense," he said, turning toward Nathan.

"None taken," Nathan said dryly, signaling the waitress for a drink as I stifled a laugh.

"So, Travis, what's your major?" I asked, changing the subject.

"I'm a psych major. My dad's been a shrink forever, and that's where the bucks are. The money almost makes up for having to hear people whine all day long," he answered, downing the rest of his beer. "Hey babe, can I get another brewski?" he interrupted the waitress as she was taking Nathan's drink order.

"No problem," she said, shooting him a "you're a total douchebag" look. I couldn't have agreed with her more. I couldn't believe that Tressa had somehow managed to find a bigger a*shole than Jackson.

As the evening dragged on, it became clear my instincts about Travis were dead on. He was the typical loudmouth, thinking everything he said was either witty or insightful words of wisdom. He was way off target on both. He was like the thing that wouldn't shut up. By the time we were on our third drink, I had decided that a Brazilian bikini wax while I had electric shock treatments to the eyes would have been less painful.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I told Nathan, shooting Tressa a meaningful look.

"Oh, me too," she said, catching my hint.

Travis said something derogatory under his breath as he slid out of the booth so Tressa could get out.

We weaved our way through the crowd, around a bunch a frat boys who were already past the toasted stage. Several of them called after us, but we ignored them as we made our way to the bathroom.

"What the hell?" I whirled around on Tressa who looked a faint shade of green. "I thought when you called we were rushing over to make sure your date was running smoothly. What a complete dick."

"I know," she wailed. "Seriously, he's never been an a*shole like this in class. I swear, I must have a welcome mat for jerk offs tattooed on my forehead. I only seem to attract these kinds of guys. Maybe this is the best I'll ever do," she said, sounding close to tears.

"Are you kidding? You can do way better. Okay, I'm not going to lie. You seem to have a way of finding guys who don't match your personality, but we just need to change that. First things first: Your date with Captain Jackass out there is over."

She looked at me incredulously.

"What?" I asked, wondering if I'd stepped over the invisible friendship line and pissed her off.

"Nothing. I've just never seen you like this. Usually you seem so even-tempered. You're almost a badass."

"When it comes to my friends, you should know, I can be a complete bitch. It was all I could do to bite my tongue when you were with Jackson, but I knew there was a history there. You don't owe this monkey-ball-licker out there anything. I—"

My next words were cut off as she threw her arms around my neck. "I seriously love you. I'm so glad you moved here," she said, giving me a smacking kiss on the cheek.

"I love you too, but I don't swing from that tree," I teased, linking my elbow through hers. "Let's go get you out of this date from hell."

Neither of the guys were talking by the time we reached the table. I had the distinct impression that wasn't the case the whole time we were gone. Judging by the scowl on Travis's face and the smirk of satisfaction on Nathan, something had gone down in our absence.

"We have to go," I said to Nathan, keeping my arm linked through Tressa's. "Tressa's not feeling good," I lied. Nathan jumped up without hesitation, obviously eager to leave.

"What the f*ck? Your friends show up and you're suddenly ready to bail," Travis said, reaching out to snag her wrist. "I'm not ready for the night to be over."

"I am. This was a joke," she said with some of the fire I was used to seeing as she jerked her wrist from his hand.

Tressa and I grabbed our purses and turned to leave with Nathan trailing behind us.

"I'm proud of you," I said, giving her a one-armed hug as we headed across the dance floor toward the exit.

"Yeah, but now I have to face him twice a week in class. That ought to be fun," she said sarcastically.

"He'll probably ignore you," I said as someone stepped in front of us, abruptly cutting us off. I was startled to see that it was Travis.

"Babe, don't leave. We were just starting to have fun before your friends showed up," he cajoled, shooting a disdainful look my way. "Stay for a while," he pleaded, grabbing her hand again.

"Look, Travis, you're a nice enough guy, but I just don't see things working for us," Tressa said, tugging on her hand.

"Why, because your morbid bitch friend shows up and convinces you to leave," he snarled, tightening his hold on her wrist.

His comment seemed to start a ripple effect. Tressa may allow guys to treat her like a doormat, but she was obviously over it. She thrust her knee up into the poor bastard's groin, just as a fist streaked out from behind us, connecting with his jaw. Travis dropped at our feet in a matter of seconds after the confrontation had started.

The funny thing is no one around us seemed to miss a beat as they continued to dance around Travis lying on the ground. We didn't stick around for questions as Nathan propelled Tressa and me out of the club.

"Dude, your fist came out of nowhere," Tressa crowed as we stepped out into the brisk night.

Nathan merely nodded his head, not saying anything. It was hard for me to get a read on whether he was mad at Travis for his comment or at himself for hitting him.

"You both were pretty awesome coming to my defense like that," I said, trying to smooth things over.

"As if I'd let some dick talk smack about one of my besties," Tressa said, glancing at Nathan who was walking several paces ahead of us. She sent me a questioning look, but I shrugged my shoulders. This brooding side of him was something new to me.

"You just have to remember that attitude if he tries to give you any shit at school," I said, acting like everything was fine.

"I will. Something in there made me snap. I'm not going to be a doormat anymore. I want a relationship where the guy is willing to punch some dude in the face to defend my honor," she said, making it clear that Nathan could do no wrong in her eyes now.

It was on the edge of my tongue to tell her Nathan and I weren't in a relationship, that what we had was nothing but sexual. I could have set her straight, but even I was unsure what we suddenly were now. We'd been inseparable for the last five days, sharing stories, discovering each other's bodies and most of all, forming a bond I don't think either of us was expecting. I wanted him to forget his past history with love, but also, I didn't want to be sick, so we could have a chance at a real relationship.

"I think we should follow you to Woodfalls," Nathan told Tressa, opening her car door for her. "I don't think Travis will be going anywhere soon, but I'd rather you were out of Dodge if he tries to retaliate."

"I don't think he will, but it makes me feel better knowing you guys will be following me," she said as he closed the car door and led me across the lot to where we had parked.

"That was sweet of you," I said, climbing into the vehicle.

"I'm just trying to clear my conscience since I'm the one who punched him," he said regretfully.

I waited until he started the vehicle and was merging onto the highway before I acknowledged his comment. At first, I debated not bringing it up since he was tightly clutching the steering wheel. "So, I'm glad you were there to help us with that a*shole," I finally said. "I'm sure he still doesn't know what hit him," I added, remembering the dazed expression on Travis's face.

"I shouldn't have hit him. He's nothing but a punk-ass kid. I'm past this kind of shit," he muttered more to himself than to me. "And yet, I wish I would have hauled his ass outside and kicked it," Nathan answered, closing the gap between Tressa's car and us.

"I'm sure Tressa appreciates your chivalry."

"I didn't punch that sniveling shit for Tressa," he said, finally looking over at me.

"You didn't?" I asked as he reached over and grasped my hand.

"No, sweets. I punched him because of what he said to you. To tell you the truth, I wanted to knock his f*cking teeth down his throat. I had to remind myself he's nothing but a stupid kid," he said with the same edge in his voice. It was hard for me to gauge if he was still mad at Travis or if something else was bothering him.

"He's not much younger than me," I reminded him.

"Believe me, I realize that, but the maturity level isn't even close. Sometimes you act like you're older than even Fran, like you've got one foot in the grave. Of course, I think Fran is more honest," he said with bitterness, not looking at me. At that moment, I knew he had figured out my secret.

I turned away from him, glancing out the window, willing myself not to cry. This wasn't a breakup. In order to be a breakup we had to be something that we weren't. This was nothing but a parting of ways.

We drove in silence for several more miles before he asked the question I'd been dreading the most. "Your list is a bucket list?"

"Yeah," I answered, still looking at the window so I wouldn't have to see what he was thinking.

"You're sick?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Cancer? Like your mom?"

"Yes. When I was seventeen I had ovarian cancer. They went in and removed both ovaries in the first surgery. Then, a few months later, they went in and removed my uterus. I was in remission up until four months ago," I answered in a dead voice.

"Are you dying?" he asked, sounding strained.

"Most likely," I said as a hot tear streaked down my face.

"What are your doctors saying?"

"They don't know. I left without telling anyone. Cancer ripped my mom away from my father, and then seven years later it threatened to take me too. We fought it. I lost my hair and nearly my life from the poisonous toxins they were pumping into my body to fight it. It took a toll on my father. I couldn't do it to him again, so I left," I said as he turned the vehicle down the narrow dirt road leading to my house.

I jumped out of the vehicle as soon as he put it in park. I couldn't stand the oppressiveness a second longer. I couldn't and wouldn't have this conversation closed up in a space I couldn't get out of.

I was halfway to my front door when he snagged my hand. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, putting his hands on my shoulders to hold me in place.

"I didn't want your pity," I whispered, looking up into his face for the first time.

"Pity? Sweetheart, I don't pity you. I'm too scared to feel anything. You have to go to a doctor. What if you're wrong and it's not back?"

"It's back. I feel it."

"Even more reason for you to go to a doctor," he pleaded. "Why would you run away?"

"Because, I knew I couldn't fight it again. It swooped in and snatched my mom right before my eyes and tried to do the same to me. It won't rest until it takes what it wanted all along. Why fight something I was never going to win?"

"You act like it's a living, breathing thing that's out to get you. It's a disease that can be fought," he said, shaking my shoulders slightly for emphasis. "You have to fight it."

"Why?" I asked, waiting for the words that only he could utter that would make me at least try.

"Because I—"

Whatever he had been about to say was cut off as we both took in the black sedan that pulled into my driveway and came to a stop. My heart jumped to my throat as I saw the slightly rumpled, disheveled-looking gentleman step from the vehicle.

Nathan muttered something beside me, but I was focused on the familiar person in front of me.

"Hello, baby," the man greeted me.

"Hi, Daddy," I said as he turned to Nathan. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me what you're doing by seducing the person I hired you to find," he said with contempt in his voice.