Ash
My Darling Abigail
Ash stared at his phone, blinking at the name. He had searched for her under the A's, but he couldn’t find her. He went to the S's for Spencer, but she wasn't there either. Finally, he remembered that she had called herself from his phone, so he went to the recent calls.
My Darling Abigail was the first name on the list. The funny thing was, it seemed natural. She was darling, and as far as Ash was concerned, she was his.
He wanted it to be that way.
How was that possible?
After only two encounters with Abigail, Ash felt this overwhelming urge to protect her, possess her, claim her, announce to the world that she was his. He had dated women in the past, but none of them had ever stirred his emotions the way Abigail did. He told himself to calm down and remember how every woman he ever got into a relationship with tried to control his life.
Then he would remember Abigail's face, her barely-there freckles and the way little strands of her silky dark hair made its way out of her ponytail and fell in loose wispy pieces around her face. And her eyes. Those blue-grey eyes that had a ring of dark blue around the edges. He could see her face when he closed his eyes. She haunted him. She wove her way into his thoughts, and Ash found it impossible to stop his mind from wandering back to her.
Then, he would remind himself that a relationship was a bad idea. He'd tell himself all the things he already knew… that Miami was only temporary, that women were never okay with his practice schedule. She'd claim to be okay with it in the beginning, and then slowly but surely, she'd become aggravated by the time they spent apart and begin to resent the cello as if it were another woman.
He tried to tell himself of these things, but he just didn't believe it with Abigail. He wasn't convinced.
When a person desires something enough, they become an excellent sales person, and that was exactly what happened with Ash. Every time he had himself convinced that things would never work with Abigail, he started thinking of all the reasons why they would.
He thought of her sweet, beautiful face, her quick wit, her compassion, her intelligence, and her drive. It surprised him, however, that the thing at the top of the list was the conversation she had with the kids about prayer. Those few short sentences revealed a lot to him about Abigail. He remembered the way it all went down, and somehow, as a result of that brief section of their encounter, he began to truly believe that she was the one. She admitted to the class as she hadn't always been very good at praying, which showed humility and honesty. And then she told them a practical truth that could possibly change their lives. Abigail had no idea what Ash's beliefs were when she said that, and yet, she was confident and unashamed.
These thoughts made Ash get out his Bible. He was relatively sure he knew the Lord's prayer by heart, but it had been a while since he recited it, so he searched it, and he prayed it, and at the end of all that, he found that he respected Abigail Spencer even more. It takes a certain humility and tenderness to pray those words and mean them, and Ash looked up to Abigail, not only for having those traits, but also for being willing to share about it with others.
Ash loved God, and fully believed in His existence, but it had been a while since he had talked to Him. He was thankful to Abigail for giving him a practical idea about how to reconnect. He recited the prayer when he went to bed that night, and he slept better for it. He said it again when he woke up the next morning, and he liked that, too. Sure, it wasn't a huge accomplishment compared to the time some people devoted to God, but it was a start.
Ash was drawn to Abigail from the moment they met (otherwise he wouldn't have pursued her like he had). But this was what impressed him the most. More than her adorable face, her gorgeous, toned body, even more than her intelligence, her kindness, or her sense of humor. Her connection with something bigger than this world was the thing that put Ash over the top.
He was in a position of prestige—one where gorgeous women with money and connections threw themselves at him on a regular basis. Women were at Ash's beck and call. That was the pure and simple truth. He sold out shows night after night, and night after night, stunning, elegantly dressed women made it clear that they wanted to be with him, get close to him.
Ash never felt the urge to let any of them in.
Until now.
He had to have Abigail.
He simply had to.
Not having her wasn't an option.
He was thankful for the way she had labeled herself when she put her name into his phone. She was his darling Abigail, that's all there was to it.
Ash played the cello for an outrageously long time that day, stopping only to eat, work out, stretch, and use the restroom. He had spent a good portion of his life playing the cello, and by now, he had his practice routine down to a science. He would play for fifty minutes, and then work out and stretch for ten. He did stretches, sit-ups, push-ups, squats, and jumped rope in quick succession before sitting down behind his cello again.
Three times a week, he went to the gym and worked out in earnest with weights, but these simple workouts were added to his practice time to keep him mobile and focused. He had woken up at 5am that morning, and he knew he wouldn't see Abigail until later that afternoon, so he practiced all day, knowing it would make the time go by faster.
He stopped playing at 3pm so that he could shower and get dressed in time to leave at 3:30.
He wore khaki shorts and a thin, white linen button-down shirt that was made to be rolled at the sleeves. He let his hair dry naturally after his shower, and it was still damp when he left for Abigail's.
Ash had a few texts and calls that he missed while he was practicing. Abigail had sent him a text with her address saying she was looking forward to seeing him. He sent a message back confirming that he got it and would see her at four. The missed calls were from his mom and little sister, and he took care of calling them back once he got on the road.
His mom and sister were together at his parents' house, so he talked to them on speakerphone. At first, he told them he was going to a barbecue at a friend's place, which was the truth. He could have left it at that, but he didn't. He added that the friend was a lady, which set them off, asking all sorts of questions about her. Who was she? Where did they meet? What did she look like?
His family new about his reluctance to date, and they always encouraged him to try to find another musician so that she could identify with his ambitions. They were slightly thrown off when Ash told them Abigail was a marine biologist who traveled around Miami, taking care of fish. They wanted him to send a picture, but he told them he didn't have one… not yet at least.
He got off the phone with them a few minutes before he made it to the house. He was staying in a really nice place, but Abigail's house was a mansion. He pulled around to the back, noticing that there were six or eight other cars already parked in that area—some of them new, and others not so much. He wondered who all was there and what had brought them together.
Ash parked and walked up the driveway toward the noise—music and laughter. There were around twenty or so people in the pool area, but only about five or six were actually swimming. A few of them seemed to notice his arrival, but they were still at a distance, so no one acknowledged him.
Then he saw her.
There she was, walking toward him, wearing a huge smile. Her long hair was hanging over her shoulders with the sides pulled back. She had on nice shorts and strappy sandals with a sheer, sleeveless top. It was much dressier than the work attire he had seen her in before. It was delicate, and it made him feel a desire to protect her—shield her. Ash breathed deeply, urging himself to calm down.
"Hey, you came," Abigail said.
She leaned in to hug him as they converged. It was a casual, friendly, one-armed hug, which was nowhere near enough for Ash. He wanted to hold her tightly for an unlimited amount of time and then turn and walk toward everyone else with his arm around her shoulders. He settled for a half hug and pretended that was good enough.
"Thanks for having me," he said. "This is a really nice place."
"It's not mine," she said. "I don't remember if I told you or not, but my roommate, Kristen, and I live in the guesthouse."
He nodded. "You mentioned it when we were talking to Jake at The Bombay," he said. "He said something about living here before you."
This made Abigail smile and look around. "Jake's here, actually," she said, as if that news would please Ash. It didn't. He remembered how Jake had touched her leg that day when he was trying to get her attention. Maybe it was innocent enough—but still.
"Hey!" Jake yelled, noticing Ash's arrival.
He was one of the people standing next to the pool, and he began walking toward them. The two men greeted one another with a handshake.
"It's good to see you, Ash. I didn't know you were coming today."
"Abigail invited me," Ash said.
"Well, welcome! We've got tons of food," Jake said, motioning by throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "And drinks in the coolers. Help yourself."
"Thanks," Ash said with a nod.
Someone called for Jake, and he excused himself before walking away. Ash and Abigail didn't even have the chance to say another word to each other before Ash noticed a blonde rushing up to them.
She was grinning from ear to ear as she approached, and without hesitation she reached out and hugged Ash. It was a tighter hug than the one he got from Abigail. This young lady was truly excited to see him. He could tell by the way she groaned when she squeezed him around the waist.
"Oh, my goodness, I am so excited to meet you!" she whispered. She pulled back and stared straight at him with wide eyes. "I couldn't believe it when Abigail told me she met you the other day. She had no idea who you were, and I was like, duh Abby! He's only one of the most famous classical musicians ever." She had been speaking quietly, but she paused and looked around, making sure no one overheard. "Don't worry," she said. "I haven't told anyone who you are. Abby said you may not want them to know."
"It's fine," Ash said smiling at her enthusiasm. "I told Jake I was a musician already."
"You know Jake?" Kristen asked, looking confused.
"Ash came by The Bombay yesterday," Abigail explained.
"Are you Kristen?" Ash asked.
The blonde slapped a hand to her forehead. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I'm nervous. Yes, I'm Kristen Hall, Abby's roommate. This is our house. Welcome."
"It's really nice," Ash said.
"It's not… I mean, it belongs to Bill and Jana Reynolds. We just live in the guestho—"
"I already told him," Abigail said.
"Oh, of course," Kristen said nodding.
She stepped back and made a sweeping motion with her hand. "Well, welcome, anyway," she said. "Make yourself at home."
"Abigaillll?" A man's voice, coming from the other side of the patio, cut through the sounds of talking and music.
"Oh, yeah," Kristen said. "I was supposed to come tell you that Bill said he needs you to clean the fish he caught this morning. I think Jana's ready to start marinating it or something."
Abigail shot Ash a reluctant smile, but they headed across the patio, toward the sound of the voice that had called out for her.
"Was she serious?" Ash asked on the way over there.
"About what?"
"Cleaning the fish," he said.
"Yes."
"Are you going to do it?" he asked.
She shrugged and nodded, but they had come close to the other man by that point, so she focused on him.
"How many did y'all get?" Abigail asked.
"We kept about ten," Bill said. "Nice-sized Grouper and a couple of Wahoo. I brought six of the grouper home, and Mick kept the rest. Jana said she'd fry them up for dinner if we cleaned 'em and brought her the fillets."
Abigail glanced at Ash. "Ash, this is Bill," she said. "He and his wife, Jana, own the house."
"Pleasure to meet you," Ash said. "You have a beautiful home."
"Thank you," Bill said. "We're glad you're here. Any friend of Abigail's is a friend of ours." Bill looked back and forth between Abigail and Ash like he was contemplating something. "There's so many people here; I can't keep track of who I've met before. I didn't know Abigail was bringing a friend. I wouldn't have asked her to take care of the fish."
"She doesn’t' mind," Jake said, coming up to stand behind them and patting Abigail on the back. "Besides, if Ash is going to try to hang out with her, he needs to see for himself how good she is with a knife."
A few people were standing around, and this statement caused them all to laugh.
"You really don't have to," Bill said. "I can do it. It'll take me about two hours, but that's okay. I don't want you to get your blouse dirty."
"I don't mind," Abigail said.
"Somebody get the girl an apron!" Jake yelled.
"I'll do it!" Kristen said.
"And a glove, and a filet knife," Abigail added. "Bill's big, sharp one with the wood handle."
"Gotcha," Kristen said. "I'll be right back."
"Seriously, thank you," Bill said. "You're saving me a lot of time."
"It's no problem," Abigail said. She looked at Ash with a rueful smile and shrug. "I guess maybe I'm destined to smell like fish."