Taut: The Ford Book
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
She shakes her head. “No, I can’t. I just can’t. I would, but it’s—”
“OK. That’s OK. But are you two still together? Because to me, it doesn’t look like it’s over.”
She sniffs and looks over at the baby. “It’s over.”
“You just have to have your say, that’s all?”
She nods. “Yes, I just have so much to say to him. I just need to say it to him, ya know?”
“OK.” I can deal with this. She just needs closure. It’s totally normal to take some time to figure things out after a big change. I’m no relationship expert, I’ve never actually had a relationship, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand the psychology of a one-sided breakup. “Let’s go get some breakfast. You hungry?” She nods. “I’ll take a shower downstairs so you can use the bathroom up here. If you need me to watch the baby so you can relax a little, I will.”
“No,” she says softly. “I got it. I’m OK, I swear. I just needed to vent. I feel better.” And then she looks up at me and smiles. “But thank you for offering.”
I pull into Jason’s parking lot half expecting the place to be closed, but one bay is open and his brother Jimmy is pulling in a car as I park. “Stay here,” I tell Ashleigh. “I’ll grab your stuff.”
She nods out a yes and says nothing. I’m not convinced she’s OK, but she’s not the least bit argumentative, so I’m enjoying that part of her right now. I leave the van running to keep them warm and then go inside the shop. No one’s at the front desk, so I walk around it and open the door to the garage. Music is blaring and Jason is talking to Jimmy in the far bay where the new car is.
“Hey,” I call out. “I need some stuff out of this car.”
Jason looks and waves to Ash’s car. “It’s open.”
I check the license plate as I walk up to the car—it’s Texas, so that makes me feel better—then pop the hatchback and go around to grab her shit. When Ashleigh said she had a bag of clothes I didn’t expect it to be a plastic grocery bag with one outfit in it for her and yet another footied sleeper for the baby. That’s all the kid’s been wearing since I met her. There’s some stray diapers so I stuff those in the bag, and a stroller. That’s what she really wanted.
“You marrying this girl now or what, Ford? Playing daddy?”
I turn to Jason and he’s laughing, like this is some fun joke. “I’m helping her out, you moron. How’s my Bronco coming?”
“She’ll be done tomorrow, probably around noon. I’m almost done but I’m gonna knock off early today. My nephew’s skiing slalom at Loveland in a couple hours. You wanna come?”
“Fuck you.” I grab the bag and the stroller and walk away.
“Just kidding, Ford,” he calls back.
“Just have my truck ready by noon.” I exit through the mechanic’s door and throw the shit in the back of the van. “You said you had clothes. All I found was a grocery bag with some baby t-shirts, a sleeper, and a pair of jeans.”
“Yeah, clothes,” she says.
“Well, we can pick stuff up in the Village after we eat.”
“My stuff’s not good enough for you?”
I pull away from Jason’s still irritated about his remark, so I say nothing more about it—just head over to the Village, park the van, and get the stroller out for Ashleigh. It’s like a modern marvel of engineering, that thing, but she presses levers and flips it open, and then lies the baby down inside.
“She looks cold. Doesn’t she have a coat?”
“She’s three months old, Ford. Her wardrobe’s a little short on Alpine gear.”
“We’ll get her a snow suit on the way to the restaurant. There’s a baby store.”
“It’s your money,” she mutters as we walk down the sidewalk to the village. “Wow,” she says as we enter the shopping district. “This is pretty swanky. I don’t ski, hate it in fact. So I’ve never been here before.”
“Swanky, yes.” I laugh a little at that. Vail Village is surrounded by five-star hotels built to look like the Bavarian Alps. Why? I have no idea. It’s the f**king Rockies, they should just own it. If I was planning this place I’d make it look like Deadwood. “Here’s a baby store right here.”
“They play on your guilt, that’s why the baby store is near the entrance. She’s got like six blankets, Ford. She’s not cold.”
I ignore her and open the door. Ashleigh scoops the baby up and leaves the stroller outside, since the boutiques here are pretty cramped and small.
“Can I help you?” the saleswoman says.
“Yes, I need snow gear for an infant.”
“Oh sure, we have—hey, Ford? Ford Aston?” The woman smiles at me, her eyes picking up interest now that she’s recognized a familiar face. “It’s me, Stacylynn.” She gives me a little wink. “Remember me? Senior year at CU? The Hairy Buffalo New Year’s Party?”
“I never went to that party, but yes, I do remember you, Stacylynn. How have you been?”
“I know, we never made it inside—believe me, I’ve never forgotten that night.” She sways her hips a little as she stares up at me.
“Eh-hemmm,” Ashleigh says. “Do you mind? We’re shopping for baby snowsuits.”