Oh, La-la!

Chapter 9. Kayla

The black balloons on the fence post in front of the tidy house is a sure sign that not only am I in the right place, but also that Beth had not taken Ash’s requests seriously. There’s a black wreath hanging on the front door with a sign that reads, “Over the hill, but not dead yet!” complete with a crow perched on the side. I guess she couldn’t find a vulture. The door opens as I reach for the doorbell, making me squeak and jump back in alarm. Ash looks almost as surprised to see me standing there.

“Hey,” I say, trying to recover. “Happy birthday!”

"Hey! Thanks. Umm… come on it,” he says slightly awkwardly as he holds the door a little wider and ushers me inside.

“Were you going somewhere?” I ask, confused why it had looked like he was leaving.

He just shrugs. “Just feeling a little cooped up in here. Drink?”

“Sure.” The heavy bass thump from music playing a little too loudly in the living room draws my attention and I peek inside as he leads me to the kitchen. The ceiling is draped in black crepe paper, the curtains have black bunting along the tops, and everywhere I look there are black balloons, gravestones, and supposedly funny signs about being one step closer to death. “I see Beth didn’t follow directions very well.” Ash just rolls his eyes. “I suppose it’s something we have in common.” Ash turns to look at me and I hold out the long, brightly colored gift bag.

“I said no presents,” he says, but his smile belies the fact he’s not actually upset with me.

“What can I say?” I shrug and smile at him. “I’m a bad girl.”

He pulls out the bottle of 12-year single malt Macallan scotch with a low whistle of appreciation. “You know your scotch.”

“Nope, not even a little,” I admit. “But the guy at the shop said it was a good one.” Actually, the guy at the shop told me if I gave the bottle to a man, he would love me for life if he didn’t already.

“Want to try it?” Ash asks as he gets a glass out of a cupboard.

“I’ll try anything once,” I say. He pours a measured amount in the glass and adds a little water before handing it to me. “Is there like a method to this?” I ask. “Like wine tasting?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “You can, but for now, just sip and see what you think.”

I take a tentative sip, and let the amber liquid sit on my tongue for a moment before feeling the slight burn down my throat as I swallow. “Damn, that’s good,” I decide. I wasn’t really sure what to expect, but it’s smooth, almost velvety. Not the harshness that I’ve come to associate with liquor.

He gets another glass out and pours a full measure for himself and tops mine up. “Next I’ll have you smoking cigars,” he jokes.

I make a face. “You smoke cigars?”

He chuckles as he hands my glass back to me. “No, can’t stand them. Now, if you had weed, that might be a different story.”

“Oh, well in that case, you’re going to love me!” I reach in my purse and pull out a small bag with a few perfectly rolled joints inside.

“Yup, I love you,” he says it so simply, and I berate myself for the thump my heart does against my ribs. “Let’s sneak out back. I need a break from all this.”

I follow him out a side door and around the back of the house where he’d set up a small patio area with a few chairs, a fire pit, and a little pond with a few large goldfish swimming in lazy circles. It’s a comfortable place to sit and talk, especially with good scotch and great weed. “This stuff is amazing!” Ash praises the weed after exhaling the smoke.

“I know! I have a friend that grows it for personal use and friends,” honestly, the moment m*******a was legalized, Tone was in seventh heaven. “So, how long have you lived here?”

“Eight years.”

I wait for him to elaborate, but he just eyes the house critically. “Eight? So, you bought this place before you and Beth got together?”

“Yeah. Things all just fell into place. I felt like I needed to put roots down, get some stability in my life. This place went on the market, and…” he sucks in on the joint, “the rest is history,” he finishes before blowing out the stream of smoke.

“It’s nice,” I smile. “It feels…” I inhale deeply, searching for the right word, “welcoming.”

“Thanks,” he says, but his tone is slightly sad. “I always liked it out here, but now… I don’t know. It’s starting to feel a little bit like a prison, but I can’t quite put my finger on why.”

“What are you doing out there?” Beth calls from the house. I hold the smoke in my lungs and try to smile and not look too guilty.

“Kayla brought me scotch,” Ash calls back, lifting his glass.

“Great.” I swear I can hear her roll her eyes all the way across the yard. “You have guests, remember?”

“Yeah, we’ll be in soon,” Ash assures her. I wait until the door closes behind her before releasing the smoke with a giggle. “Holy sh*t, are you ok?”

I try to control my giggling and nod at him. “I wasn’t sure if she’d approve.”

“Definitely not,” Ash laughs.

“Although, I get the feeling she wouldn’t approve of anything I do,” I muse.

“Probably not,” Ash agrees. “It’s not really her fault, though. She’s actually really nice, once you get to know her. Although, she can be a real pain in the ass when she wants to be,” he admits.

“That can be true for any woman,” I laugh. “It’s our feminine mystique.”

“It’s your feminine pain in the assness is what it is!”

“That, too.”

“Come on,” Ash sighs as he downs the last of his drink. “Let’s go inside and I’ll introduce you to some people.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to go to any trouble for me,” I tell him. “I can just wing it. Hope you don’t mind if I try to avoid Beth, though. She kind of scares me.”

“You know, right now she kind of scares me, too,” he grins.

Over the next several hours I learned more about the Kardashians than I had never hoped to know. I don’t understand how people can involve themselves so spectacularly in people’s lives, people they don’t know and will never know. Yet, here I am, hearing all about Kim’s love life as though I’m hearing it from her sister. I don’t think I could ever handle the pressures of being famous, or the lack of privacy it seemed to automatically include. I almost feel sorry for celebrities sometimes, though I’m sure a few of them enjoy the attention. Good and bad.

I feel an indulgent sense of guilt every time I allow my attention to wander over to Ash, and have to suppress a giggle at his glossy eyed look. It was supposed to be his party, but he looks bored to death, and most of the people here seem to be more friends with Beth than him.

“I’m going to sneak out,” I whisper to Ash as the party starts to wrap up. “Thanks for inviting me.”

He stretches his neck and smiles a tired looking smile. “I’ll walk you out.”

“No, really, it’s fine,” I shake my head.

“No, really, I need air,” he says getting up to walk to the door. “How many Kardashians are there anyway?”

My laughter comes easy. “I hope I never know the answer to that question!”

He steps out on the porch and takes a deep breath. “Where’d you park?”

The corner of my mouth tugs up in a lopsided grin. “I took the train. Don’t have a car.”

His eyes go wide as his jaw drops. “How’d you get from the train station to here?”

“Walked,” I shrug.

“That’s like five miles!”

“Five and a half,” I correct. “It’s a nice walk, though.” The evening shadows are beginning to lengthen as the sun dips low and I know I need to get a move on. It’ll be dark by the time I get home, and although I have pepper spray in my purse and one of those kitty safety key rings, I still don’t like walking alone after sunset.

“Wait here, I’ll give you a ride,” Ash says simply.

“Ash, really, I’m fine,” I argue. I don’t want to feel like I need anyone protecting me. “I’ve got pepper spray and I’ve taken three self-defense courses. I’m good to go. Don’t worry about me.”

“The least I can do is give you a ride to the train station,” he says. “You should’ve told me, I would’ve come pick you up.”

“Really, it’s fine,” I repeat. “And you’ve been drinking, so you shouldn’t be driving anyway,” I point out.

“I had one scotch and one wine over the last four hours. I’m good, so stop arguing with me. I’m giving you a ride.” He disappears inside before I can say another word and is back before I can think of a reasonable excuse. If I’m really honest with myself, I’d admit that I’m actually pretty tired and a ride sounds like a much better idea than walking.

“Are you sure Beth doesn’t mind?”

“Beth told me to take you home,” he responds as he unlocks his car doors.

“What? No, the train station is fine,” I protest. “I don’t live very far from the station in the city.”

“Nope, boss’ orders,” he says. “It’s getting dark and will give her a chance to clean up without me under foot. Her words,” he adds as I make a small sound of objection.

I can’t help being a little suspicious. Beth hadn’t said more than three words to me the entire time I’ve been here, why is she suddenly so concerned with my welfare? Granted, I did do my best to avoid her, but she seemed to be avoiding me, too. Still, I guess I don’t really know the woman, it’s possible she’s actually a decent person after all. Ash obviously sees something positive in her, so she can’t be that bad. I suppose it has to be weird when your fiancé brings in a friend that’s so much younger. I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt. If Beth is starting to see that I’m not trying to steal Ash away from her, that can only be a good thing, right? And who knows? It’s possible that she’s a survivor of an assault and the idea of a young woman walking alone at night triggered some emotional response in her. At this point, I’m not sure what else to think.

I look over at Ash as he merges onto the freeway. His jaw is set and his lips are pressed into a thin line. “You ok?”

He glances over and seems to realize he's scowling as he visibly tries to relax his jaw. “Yeah, just… a lot on my mind.”

“You’re sure Beth wanted you to drive me all the way into the city?” I ask, still feeling a little unsure. I don’t want to cause any problems with her.

Ash nods. “Actually, I think she needed a break from me,” he says tensely. “She’s not happy with me at the moment.”

I can’t hide my surprise and c**k my head to the side. “Why? What’d you do?”

He lets out a sigh, but doesn’t say anything for a while. Just when I start to think I should change the topic he says, “She thinks I don’t appreciate her.”

My brows draw together in concern. “Why would she think that?”

“She put all that effort into the party-“

“That you didn’t want,” I interject.

“That I didn’t want,” he agrees, “but still, she put in the effort and, in her way, she was trying to make it fun for me. And I get that. I really do. I tried to have fun, but she thinks I didn’t have enough fun. And then there’s you.”

“Me?” This can’t be good.

“Yeah, I mean, she practically ignores you, to the point of being rude, and then is adamant I drive you home? Not that I mind, of course,” he glances at me and the worry that he just offended me is all over his face.

“I know that,” I try to reassure him. “And I appreciate the ride, really. I don’t like walking alone at night, and I just figured Beth maybe had a bad experience or something?”

He shakes his head. “No, at least not that she’s ever told me. I would know by now. I thought maybe it was just some sort of girl code.”

I nod thoughtfully. “Honestly, that could be it.” It’s flimsy, but why else would she insist he drive me all the way into the city? How many times have I seen posts about girls sticking together and supporting each other on social media? Maybe Beth is actually following through on those ideals. That’s kind of refreshing.

Ash pulls up in front of my building and slides to a stop. “I’ll wait until you get inside.”

I touch his arm and wait for him to look at me. “Thanks for the ride. I’m sure everything’s ok.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry for dumping all this on you.”

“Don’t be,” I smile. “It’s what friends are for.”

He nods as I climb out of the car and trot to the door to my apartment building. After opening the door, I turn and wave at him. I can barely see him in the orange glow of the street light, but I see him wave back before pulling away from the curb. Standing in the doorway for a moment, I feel a shiver run down my spine. Calling myself paranoid, I try to shake the sensation off, but the feeling of being watched persists. I hurry to my apartment and lock the door behind me. Maybe all that questioning of Beth’s motives have made my imagination pump into overtime.