Ashley and I head to the lookout once more, only this time I'm better prepared. I have a sleeping bag for us to sit on and a bag of random camp snacks and drinks.
"That was so much fun today," Ashley says as she lowers herself onto the unzipped bag. The outer part of the bag is a rough and sturdy canvas, while the inside is silky and soft, like Ashley’s skin.
I take a seat beside her, grunting like the old man I’m becoming. “Yeah, it definitely was."
“And guess what? Callie called me after the river run," I say.
She smiles. "Nice. How’d it go?”
"Pretty good.” I reflect on the call. “She said Link got an estimate on his car repair. Said it’ll cost a lot to fix it, so he’ll have to save up, and that she’s sorry for missing.”
“An apology?” Ashley sounds impressed.
I grin and nod. “Miracles do happen. I offered to help fix the car in my dad’s garage. I know a little about cars, and my old man knows even more. Between that and a few YouTube videos,I figure we may as well give it a go. If we fail miserably, we’ll take it to a professional.”
“That sounds like a good plan. Get a little bonding time in with the boyfriend, huh?”
I give her a wry grin. “You know where they say to keep your enemies.” I shrug. “Naw, he could be a really good kid under all the piercings and ink.” Though, I’m not entirely sure, since I’ve barely spent five minutes with the guy.
“Hmm,” Ashley says. “Callie’s got to see something in him. You’re smart to invite him to stuff, at least. A therapist I listen to once compared excluding your teen’s boyfriend or girlfriend to shooting your kid from a cannon in that person’s direction and away from you.”
“Really?”I cringe and store that tidbit in my mental parenting file. “Sheesh, noted.”
“Did you tell her about your tubing mishap?” Ashley asks in a sing-song tone.
“I sure did.” I chuckle, recalling Callie’s reaction to the tale. “I told her that Bessie finally met her fate and was given a proper burial where the boys offered a parting eulogy.” Which they had; it was hilarious.
“It got Callie laughing pretty hard." I stare at the view ahead and add, “It was so good to share a laugh like that again.”
Ashley scoots closer to me, loops a hand around the nook of my elbow, then smooths her way down my forearm and covers my hand.
I flip it over so my palm meets hers and relish in the heavenly feel of her skin on mine.
Ashley's affectionate. I almost forgot about that. In fact, I didn't realize how much I missed it in my marriage to Gabrielle, who—surprise, surprise—isn’t the touchy-feely type.
"I'm glad you had a good laugh with her. She would have laughed a lot harder if she would have seen it in person."
I glance down to see the mischief in Ashley's eyes. “Yeah, well, that was all for show, of course. You’ve got to give the people what they came for.”
She chuckles and rests her head on my shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure it was. But, just so you know, when the Bible talks about being born again, that’s not the kind they had in mind."
Now, I chuckle this time. "Just don't tell my mom that I was re-birthed in the river by a cow named Bessie. She already disowned Luke a long time ago. Multiple times, in fact, none of which really took. Despite the guy’s crummy behavior, I think he's still Mom's favorite."
"Hmmm," Ashley muses. “I can't imagine my parents having a favorite. Maybe they would if they’d have had more than two of us."
"Let's pretend they had three,” I say, entertaining her idea. “Who would've been the favorite then?"
"Oh, me, hands down."
"How do you figure?"
She shrugs. "It's really just more of a hunch."
"You’re probably right.” I wrap my free hand around her back and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Well,” I say, “I got chewed up and spit out by a cow, and your teeth got chewed up and spit out by a lid. I'd say we’re probably one for one.”
Ashley nudges my arm. "Oh, no, mine is worse.Wayworse.” She groans like she’s just remembering something. “I can’t believe I have to let my ex-husband fix my teeth. Something he’ll only do after a long, strong, irritating lecture on stuff I already know.”
I grimace. “Can’t you let someone else do it?” Inwardly, I’m a little jealous that he can do something for her that I can’t. It’s a stupid notion, seeing that the guy’s been married to her half of his life, and I’ve been out of the picture until now.
