When Cicadas Cry (11 page)

“Well, here we are,” I say, pullin’ off the county road and into my parents’ drive.

“Already?”

“Hey,” I say, gainin’ her attention, “they’ll love you.”

She takes a big breath and then lets go of a half-grin, as we make our way down the long driveway.

About a minute later, we’re both gettin’ out of my truck and headin’ inside. I call for Mom and Dad once we’re in the house, but no one answers.

“Well, they’re here,” I say. “I just don’t know where. They’ll turn up. For now, let’s get these mushrooms goin’.

We slice, wash and bread the morels, then stick them into a fryin’ pan and fry them for a few minutes.

“Okay,” I say, placin’ a few of the fried slices onto a piece of white bread and foldin’ the bread over. “Your first fried morel sandwich.”

“Wait, you don’t put anything on it?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Plain is best.”

She smiles and just nods. “Plain is best,” she repeats. Then she takes the sandwich, looks up at me, looks back at the sandwich and then takes a bite.

I watch her chew for a couple seconds. I don’t know why, but I’m nervous all of a sudden. I have no idea why I want her to like this stupid sandwich so much.

She chews some more, then closes her eyes and swallows. And when she opens her eyes again and gazes into mine, I just can’t take it anymore.

“Well, tell me, woman! Was that not the best sandwich you’ve ever tasted?”

She laughs and then, at last, nods her head. “You wanna know the truth?”

“Yes, the truth,” I demand, barely able to control myself.

“That was the best sandwich I’ve ever tasted.”

“Remington,” I hear my mom call from the basement steps.

Ashley looks at me. She’s got flour on her nose. I kiss the place where the flour is and then brush the rest of the white stuff away with the pad of my thumb.

“Oh, hi.” My mom stops at the top of the basement steps when she sees both of us.

“Hi,” Ashley says, immediately holdin’ out her hand.

Mom looks at her hand for a second. “Oh, sweetie, around here, we do hugs.” She encloses Ashley in her arms. “And you must be the infamous Ashley,” she states, as she pulls away.

Ashley looks back at me. She’s got a little smile playin’ on her face, like she doesn’t quite know what to say about that, but she’s not altogether mad about it, either.

“Oh, come on, I don’t talk about her that much...do I?”

Mom rolls her eyes. Ashley keeps her pretty, little stare on me.

“Okay, fine, maybe I talk about you a little,” I say to her, pinchin’ my thumb and forefinger together.

“Cindy, where in tarnation did I put that drill?”

My dad barrels up the stairs, and within only a couple seconds, he’s in the kitchen and starin’ at us like we’re two aliens invading his kitchen or somethin’.

“Oh,” he says, “I didn’t know we had company. I would have put on my good hat.”

I gawk at him with what I’m sure is a puzzled look plastered to my face. “Dad, what in the hell is your good hat?”

“You know, it’s that Cardinals one you got me. I save that one for company,” he says, proudly sittin’ back on his heels.

“Then, why have I never seen you wear it?”

“I don’t know. Because you’re not company.”

“What about Jack and Mike?” I ask.

“Ha,” he says. “You mean those other two kids I oddly don’t remember bringin’ home from the hospital—the ones that raid my refrigerator every Saturday and eat all my cheese dip?”

I just lower my head and laugh to myself. “Dad,” I say, once I look up again. “This is Ashley.”

“Hi, Mr. Jude,” Ashley says, holdin’ out her hand.

My dad takes her hand and shakes it. “It’s Ken. Mr. Jude’s only for Jack and Mike.” He winks at Ashley, and Ashley just smiles.

“Were you guys makin’ somethin’?” my mom asks.

“We just fried up some morels,” I say.

“Oh, if there’s any left, save me some,” Dad interjects. “I’ve gotta find that dag nabbit drill.”

And with that, he wanders off.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Ashley,” my mom says. “I’d stay and talk longer, but I’ve got the hose runnin’ out back, and I’ve got to get my husband’s drill.” She covers her mouth and whispers the next part: “I hide it because he’s always losin’ it. That way, I know where it is when I need it.”

Ashley gives my mom a big grin. “No, it’s fine,” she says, politely. “It was nice to meet you.”

“We’ll talk soon,” my mom assures her, givin’ her another hug. Then, she takes a couple steps and calls out to my dad: “I found it, honey.” And a wink later, she’s gone.

And with that, it’s just Ashley and me alone in the kitchen again, and I can’t help but pull her close to me.

“See, I told you they’d love you.”

She squishes up her nose. “You think?”

“I know,” I say, kissin’ her squished-up nose.

Then I pull her into a hug and press her head to my chest. They really did love her. I could see it written all over their faces. And that makes me feel good.

“I want to meet your family,” I whisper near her ear.

She pulls away from me. “You want to meet my family?”

“Yeah,” I say. “And I want to see where you grew up.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” I assure her.

It’s as if she thinks about it for a second before she smiles and then finally nods. “Okay,” she whispers.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she confirms, a big grin stretchin’ across her pretty face.

Chapter Sixteen

Present

Rem

“A
shley.”

She looks up at me, as if she’s startled to see me.

“Rem. ...Hi.”

“Hhh-i,” I say. It’s hard to imagine stumblin’ over just one, two-lettered word, but I think I managed to do just that.

It’s like the airport all over again, but at the same time, I think I was less surprised to see her there than here—at Hall’s...in Ava.

“Well, what brings you back into town?” I ask.

The little smile she had quickly falls away. “I...um...just needed to come back, you know, for a moment. I needed to say some things to...”

I look down and nod my head. “I got it,” I say, stopping her. I hear what she’s not sayin’. I know why she’s here. And I also know she didn’t come here to talk to me.

When I look back up at her, I notice the soft smile has returned to her face. “So, it’s good to be back,” she says.

“Uh, yeah, I’m sure it is.”

“I see we haven’t stopped making rumors,” she nearly whispers, glancin’ across the bar.

I look over my shoulder and make eye contact with a couple I know from high school sittin’ at a table across the room. Their stares immediately deflect to the floor when our eyes meet. I try not to laugh when I turn back to Ashley. “You have no idea.”

She bows her head and grins. “Well, it’s nice to see some things haven’t changed.”

“Yeah,” I mumble.

Then that clock on the wall ticks out a few more loud seconds as neither one of us says anything.

“How’s work?” she asks, finally breaking the quiet.

“It’s great,” I say, flatly. “Same old, same old.”

Her lips turn down a little, and I know I’m not playin’ nice. And it’s in that moment that I realize I just have no idea how I’m supposed to act around her anymore.

I habitually refit my cap over my head and lean up against the bar. “How’s the writing comin’?” I ask, tryin’ to put more effort into the conversation.

All of a sudden, her expression is happy again. “It’s going well. The book’s almost done. There’s a part of me that just can’t wait for it all to be finished, but then, there’s another part of me that is absolutely terrified. I’m literally terrified knowing that once it’s published, actual, real people will be able to read it.”

“Actual, real people,” I confirm, smilin’.

She laughs and gives me this look she used to give me that I always thought meant she wanted to kiss me. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that same thing today.

“How long are you in town?” I ask.

“I...um... I’m on my way out now, actually. I just stopped by to grab a tea for the road.”

I nod, lettin’ her statement sink in. I knew she wasn’t here to stay or anything, but hearin’ she’s got one foot out the door already kind of stabs at my heart a little. And I know it shouldn’t. Damn it, I know it shouldn’t. She’s not mine anymore. Hell, I don’t even know if she were ever really mine. But damn it, I’m hers. As stupid and as impossible as that might sound, I’m hers. I know it. I know it deep in my soul. I’ll never love another girl like I loved Ashley Westcott. I wonder if she knows that.

“You wanna know something?” she asks, breakin’ me out of my thoughts. I can tell she’s tryin’ to cheer me up now. She might not know what I’m thinkin’ exactly, but I’m certain she can read my face. And I’m certain it’s not the happiest face I’ve ever put on. All the same, I look up at her a little surprised. I know I don’t deserve her bein’ nice to me.

“Sure,” I say, agreein’ to play along.

“I tried to make a mushroom sandwich.”

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Well, I tried. I can’t really make them like you can.”

“Horse shit!” I blurt out. I say it a little too loud, and all eyes in the bar stop to look at me. Even Ashley looks at me, startled, right before she starts to laugh.

I watch her lips turn up as she tilts her face away from me. And then when she squares up to me again, I follow her hand as she tucks a strand of her long, blond hair behind her ear. And then she gives me that look—that look that makes me wish with everything I am that everything between us had turned out differently. And then I get a wild hair. It’s a crazy idea. And it’s probably stupid. But I can’t help but be stupid sometimes. I think it’s in my nature.

“Come on,” I say, standin’ up straight again.

“What?”

“I’ll teach you again.”

She gives me this look like I’ve just gone and lost my mind. “Where?”

“Here,” I say.

“You can’t teach me here.” She shakes her head, almost as if she’s shakin’ off even the thought of it.

“Sure I can. Hold on. I’ve got some in my truck. I’ll go get ‘em.”

“Of course,” she says, her voice startin’ to hitch. “Of course you’ve got mushrooms in your truck.”

“What’s the Boy Scout motto?” I ask, makin’ my way across the bar.

“I don’t know,” she says, through quiet laughter.

“Always be prepared.”

“But you were never a Boy Scout.”

“Well, yeah, not a real one, technically, but that’s only because everyone around here is just born a Boy Scout. We never really think to give it a title.”

I leave her smilin’ at the bar, as I push through the screen door and head for my truck. For the first time in a long time, I notice I have a little skip to my step.

I grab the mushrooms and fly back through the bar’s back door not even a minute later and head for the kitchen.

“Rem, what are you doin’?” Kristen asks.

“Fryin’ up some morels.”

“What?”

“It’s fine, Kristen,” I say, assurin’ her. “We’ll be fast.”

“You know, this is like 110 different health code violations,” Kristen says, her hands on her hips.

“I won’t tell,” I promise.

She just rolls her eyes and heads back into the area where they keep all the tables and most of the people, while I set the morels next to the fryer and look back.

Ashley’s at the door to the kitchen. “Come on,” I say, wavin’ her in. “It’s okay.”

It looks as if she contemplates it for a second before glancin’ over at Kristen.

“Might as well,” Kristen says, shruggin’ her shoulders. “I’ve never won against a Jude. I don’t even try to fight it anymore.”

Ashley smiles and then looks back at me, and before I know it, she’s plantin’ her feet right next to mine.

“That’s my girl,” I say.

She gives me a half-scoldin’ look before her lips turn up at their corners.
I’ll take that.

“Okay, so let’s get some breading materials together,” I say, lookin’ for the flour.

“Ohhh...” The word that escapes her mouth sounds somewhat defeated.

I stop and look at her. She’s got this half-smile, half-revelation thing goin’ on. “Let me guess. You didn’t bread ‘em?” I ask.

She closes her eyes and squishes up her little nose. I just throw my head back and laugh at the ceiling.

We make the sandwiches, but mostly, we laugh. It couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, and there’s flour everywhere. It’s even on her forehead. And I can’t help but love everything about this moment. I wish it didn’t have to end. I already know I’m gonna miss it when it’s gone.

I take a bite into the bread and the morels, and I look over at her. She’s sittin’ on the counter, swingin’ her legs and chewin’ away. I could stare at her all day, and I both hate and love that thought.

“Jeez, Rem!” Kristen steps inside the kitchen and throws her hands on her hips.

Her shrill voice startles the both of us. I stand up. Ashley jumps off the counter, and when her feet hit the grease-covered floor, she loses her balance. I notice she’s fallin’, so I drop my sandwich and slip my arm around her waist. And for a moment, she stops fallin’ and looks into my eyes. And I see my Ashley. And I swear she sees me.

“Okay...well,” Kristen stutters, soundin’ now almost as if she’s sorry for interruptin’ somethin’. “Karen’s comin’ in for her shift soon. Just make it look half descent again.”

I’d turn around, but I already know Kristen’s gone. So instead, I make sure Ashley is steady, and then I back away a step.

She straightens her tee shirt and brushes back a few stray strands of her hair. “Thanks,” she whispers.

I just nod. I can’t seem to find any good words to say. She’s starin’ at me, and I’m starin’ back at her. There’s somethin’ still between us. I can feel it. But after a moment, she looks away, clears her throat and grabs the bag of flour, solidifyin’ the fact that the moment’s gone. And I just stand there and sigh inwardly for what feels like an eternity, before reachin’ for my sandwich on the floor.

We get everything put away and all the counters wiped down before I walk her out to her car.

“Hey,” I say, “you’ll send me a book when it’s finished, right?”

She gives me that look that I never could quite figure out. I don’t know if it’s sympathy or sadness or somewhere in between. “Sure,” she says, nodding.

Then, she turns and gets into her car.

“Hey,” I say, regaining her attention.

I wait until I can see her face.

“If everything were different, would we be together?”

Little wrinkles form on her forehead. I can tell she’s thinkin’. “Do you mean that if I lived in a fairy tale, and that if you lived in a fairy tale, and that if we both lived in that fairy tale together, would we be together?”

I slowly nod. “Yeah,” I say. “Somethin’ like that.”

I notice her smile, right before she bobs her head. “Yeah,” she says. “I think we might.” She stops and takes a moment before sayin’ her next words. “If there are happily ever afters in life, we just might have a chance, but...”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but it doesn’t matter. I already know how it ends. I take a deep breath and bob my head, too, knowingly—knowing we will never get our happily ever after.

“Rem?”

“Yeah?”

She’s pressin’ her lips together and lookin’ away, like she wants to say somethin’.

“Never mind,” she says, shakin’ it off.

“You sure?”

Say somethin’, Ashley. Please say somethin’.

I know I can’t change a damn thing between us, so I don’t know why I torture myself. But I just can’t help but want her to believe in us—even if all the odds are against us, even if we screwed it all up, even if it’s all just a lie.

“Yeah,” she says, lookin’ up at me with her pretty eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“Okay,” I whisper, unwillingly.

She starts up her car, and I hand her her tea right before I lightly tap the hood and step back.

“Well, take care, Ash.”

“You too, Rem.”

And with that, she slowly pulls out of the gravel parking lot. I watch her car until it disappears about a half mile down the road. And then, she’s gone—she’s gone just as quickly as she had come. And I’m just left with a memory of a moment in an old bar’s tiny kitchen—a sweet, perfect memory, forever frozen in time, where we were almost
us
again.