IN HER HANDS
March
“Dillon! No! Put that down,” Ashleigh screamed. The phone fell from her ear and she ran across the room the instant he dropped the expensive crystal vase on the floor.
She looked into his frightened eyes, knowing he did not understand, and wondered at what point in her life possessions had become more important than people had.
She scooped him into her arms and cradled his tiny body against her chest.
“I’m sorry I yelled, little man. It’s my own fault for leaving things where you can reach them.
She put him in his playpen and handed him his favourite toy—a yellow lion, named Larry, before heading to the closet to retrieve the broom and dustpan. It took several minutes to sweep up the shattered crystal, which spread remarkably over an eight-foot wide area of the floor. She studied the gouge in the floor where the vase had landed and sighed. She had spent a small fortune on that floor, and why? Sure, it looked nice, but she was too afraid to even walk on it half the time, for fear of marking it. She could have purchased something more durable, at a much cheaper price, and it would have looked the same to the untrained eye. To her it was a status symbol. Always the best. Always the most expensive. Her possessions gave her self-worth—at least on paper. Her net worth was something tangible. She could calculate it. Her inner worth was another matter entirely.
She gazed down at the remains of the vase in the dustpan. Fragments of crystal ranging in size from quarters to tiny dust particles glistened beautifully under the overhead lights. That vase alone was worth over ten thousand dollars. It had been a gift from one of her clients. She chuckled bitterly as she threw the worthless shards into the trash bin.
She paused to kiss Dillon on the forehead before putting the broom away. The vase may be worthless now, but Dillon was priceless and she needed to do whatever she could to give him a stable and happy life.
She picked up the phone to continue the call she had made before the vase incident.
“Mrs. Sheffield, please,” she said to the overly friendly woman who answered the phone.
She waited on hold for more than five minutes, pacing impatiently, before her call was finally picked up.
“This is Mrs. Sheffield. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Mrs. Sheffield. This is Ashleigh Cartwright again. I apologize for earlier. Dillon was getting into a bit of trouble.”
“No problem, Ms. Cartwright. As I was saying before I lost you, I think you should consider a live-in nanny. You’ve gone through two of my most experienced nannies already and they both had the same complaint.”
“Do you really think a live-in is the best option? I’m not sure my home is suitable for that type of arrangement,” Ashleigh said seriously, unable to fathom sharing her home with another person.
“I suggest you find a way to make it work. I’m afraid I don’t see any other solution for your situation.”
Ashleigh sighed in frustration. The last thing she wanted was to have someone living with her full-time. Did she really have a choice? She wanted Dillon to have the best care possible, and she wanted him to have a stable environment. The revolving nanny door was confusing for him. His was too young to understand. The last thing he needed was more upset in his already traumatic life.
“Send the resumes to my office. I’ll look them over,” Ashleigh finally suggested, unable to find any other solution at the moment.
“Unfortunately, since I know you need someone right away, I only have one resume for you to review,” Mrs. Sheffield replied carefully, in response to the frustrated voice on the other end of the phone.
Ashleigh sighed again and squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. Why was this so difficult?
“Ms. Cartwright, I happen to know this woman personally and I think she’d be a great fit.”
“Ask her to meet me at my home at eight o’clock so I can meet with her in person. If I can’t make it I’ll call you.”
CHAPTER ONE (TWO MONTHS EARLIER January)
It was nearly one o’clock in the morning and the phone started ringing for the third time during the course of the last fifteen minutes. The previous two times, Ashleigh had ignored it. This time, something compelled her to answer.
“Let me up,” she said to the woman, whose name she did not know, but whose face was buried between her legs.
“What?” Ashleigh said angrily after walking across the room to pick up her cell phone, which had been left on the dresser.
“Ashleigh, thank God. Where have you been? You have to come home right away. It’s Brian … he was in an accident. The doctors don’t expect him to make it through the night.”
“Okay, Mom. I’m on my way.” She slammed the phone shut and began to get dressed.
“Leave!” she shouted impatiently at the woman, whose name she still did not know. Her name was of no consequence. All that mattered was the woman’s ability to make Ashleigh feel something, anything, for at least a few minutes.
“Are you sure,” the woman asked.
“Yes, I’m sure. Get out! I’m in a hurry.”
Within fifteen minutes, Ashleigh was on the road headed toward
“You are a sinner. Get out of our house! We no longer have a daughter!” they had said.
Yes, they were bible-thumping freaks who leaned so far to the right that they couldn’t even stand up straight.
When they kicked her out, she went to live with Brian. He was four years older than she was and lived in his own apartment at the time. When he found out she was a lesbian, his only question was, “Are you happy?” He never questioned her, never tried to change her. He loved her unconditionally. Unconditional love--something Ashleigh craved, but could never find.
Although her relationship with her parents had improved over the years, it was nowhere near perfect. In fact, it was barely civilized. They saw each other once a year at Christmas and spoke on the phone about every two or three months, just to touch base.
Brian, on the other hand, she visited frequently. She made an effort to see him at least every other weekend. He could not die. That just wouldn’t be fair. She needed him. And why now? Everything in her life was going well. All of her hard work was going to pay off soon—she was about to make partner at the law firm. Finally, she would belong.
She was driving fast. The bright city lights faded away in her rear-view mirror within minutes. Hang on, Brian; I’m on my way. Once she turned onto the dark, deserted highway, she sped up but kept a watchful eye on the side of the road for any sign of deer or other unfortunate animals that might cross her path. She usually made this trip in the daylight and was surprised at how dark it really was. Living in a big city, nothing was ever in complete darkness, unless of course there was a blackout.
She pulled up to
“May I help you?” the nurse asked.
“I received a phone call that my brother, Brian Cartwright, was in an accident and was brought here,” Ashleigh said as calmly as possible, although her voice was tight with anxiety.
“Yes ma’am. I’ll take you to him,” she said urgently.
The nurse led Ashleigh down a dingy hallway, through a red door, and to the intensive care unit of the hospital. There were swarms of people tending to the most critically ill or injured patients. It appeared as though the ratio of staff to patients was at least three to one. These people were undoubtedly receiving the best care possible.
Brian was in the third room, directly across from the nurses’ station. When she stepped into the room, she didn’t even recognize him.
“Are you Ashleigh?” another nurse asked while taking and recording his vital signs.
“Yes,” she replied almost uncertainly. For an instant she thought she couldn’t be Ashleigh—she did not want to be Ashleigh—sister of the unrecognizable man who lay dying on the gurney.
“I’m glad you made it, he’s been asking for you.”
Ashleigh approached the bed cautiously and in disbelief. This could not be Brian—her strong as an ox, extremely handsome, older brother. She gently took his lifeless hand in hers and tried not to let her grief show when he opened his eyes.
“Ash, you made it,” he struggled to say.
“Hey, big brother. If you wanted me to visit, all you had to do was call. You didn’t have to go through all of this trouble,” she managed to say in a shaky voice.
“
Ashleigh could see the pain in his eyes as he told her that his wife had died from her injuries. She looked at him in disbelief.
“Dillon is at the sitter’s. Everything you need to know is in the bottom drawer of my desk.” He paused. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult for him. “I know you’ll take good care of him,” he whispered.
Ashleigh was stunned. What was he talking about? Suddenly, her mind flashed back to a day when Brian had invited her over for dinner about a month after Dillon was born.
“Ash, if something happens to us, we want you to raise Dillon,” he said.
She hadn’t put much thought into those words. She had been busy playing with Dillon when they were said and her response had been, “Sure.” She had not given it another thought, until now.
She was not equipped to raise a child. She did not know the first thing about babies and Dillon was only six months old. Surely, Brian wouldn’t want her to care for Dillon. There must be someone more suitable, more responsible.
As if sensing her doubts, Brian said, “I know you’ll do fine, Ash. I need you to promise me something though.”
“Anything,” Ashleigh replied. How could she deny him any request?
“Don’t keep him from his grandparents. I know you guys don’t get along, but I want him to know them. Just don’t let them preach their bigoted values to him. Somewhere between you and them is the perfect balance—do your best to find it. I love you, Ash.”
Those were his final words before slipping into a coma. Their parents, who had been down the hall talking to the doctor, returned to find her sobbing hysterically. Her mother approached her and tried to console her, but she backed away. Despite her grief, she would not accept affection from the parents who had disowned her.
They sat in silence for an hour as Brian lingered somewhere between life and death until he finally succumbed to his injuries.
This cannot be happening. I’m just having a bad dream, Ashleigh said to herself as she unlocked the front door to her brother’s house. It was seven in the morning; the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a beautiful pink glow on everything. Even in death, the sun rises and sets—the world must go on.
The house was eerily silent. There were dirty dishes in the sink. A hamper full of clean laundry sat ready to be folded. It was almost is if they had stepped out for a few minutes and would be home any time. But they were not coming home—ever.
Ashleigh wanted to grieve, but she didn’t have time. The knowledge that she was going to be responsible for a child was overwhelming. She had no idea where to start. Brian told her everything she needed to know could be found in his desk, so she decided to start there.
She sat down gently in the comfortable leather chair, almost afraid to make any noise. If there were no sounds, maybe none of this was really happening. The large cherry wood desk was littered with paperwork. It appeared as though he had been working on something just before he left.
There was a beautiful stainless steel picture frame, which held a recent photo of
She put the picture aside, intending to take it with her. It would be a constant reminder. She opened the bottom drawer of the desk and found the box of documents her brother had referred to. Inside were insurance papers, wills, and letters addressed to both Ashleigh and her parents.
As she began reading through the documents, which named her Dillon’s legal guardian, there was a knock at the door. She was surprised to find her parents standing in the doorway when she answered it.
“Ashleigh! What are you doing here?” her mother asked.
“Why are you here?” she countered.
“We stopped by to pick up some of Dillon’s things,” her mother replied matter-of-factly.
“Why do you need his things?”
“Well, we are going to pick him up from the sitter’s, and we need his car seat. We also thought he would be more comfortable in his own crib,” her mother said innocently.
“I’ll be picking him up from the sitter’s, so you won’t need those things.”
“You don’t know how to take care of a baby, Ashleigh. And since
“No. Dillon is coming to live with me. It’s what Brian wanted.”
“You must be mistaken. You’re a … well, you know what you are. Why would Brian want you to take care of Dillon? A child should not be exposed to that kind of life,” her mother said with certainty.
“What you just said about me and my kind of life is exactly why Brian wanted me to raise Dillon. You guys are so narrow-minded it would certainly rub off on Dillon, making him a bigot just like you.”
“You can’t be serious, Ashleigh. Brian never felt that way about us and he grew into a fine young man. Let’s sit down and discuss this,” her mother said as she pushed her way through the door and into the kitchen. Ashleigh’s father just followed along silently. She always thought that he was the more reasonable of the two, but that he was so afraid of her mother’s wrath that he often just kept his opinions to himself.
While they made themselves comfortable at the table, Ashleigh returned to the den and gathered the paperwork that contained Brian’s wishes. She tossed the documents on the table in front of her mother and began to make a pot of coffee.
“You can’t be serious about this, Ashleigh,” her mother said incredulously. “You have no idea how to raise a child.”
“It’s what Brian wanted, Mother.”
“He couldn’t have been thinking clearly when he did this. Let’s be reasonable about it. Just let us take Dillon. He’ll be better off with us.”
“I will not go against Brian’s wishes.”
“Fine,” her mother said angrily. “After the funeral, we’ll file for custody claiming that you are an unfit guardian,” she added with finality.
“Have you forgotten that I’m an attorney, Mother? Do it, and after I win, I’ll see to it that you never lay eyes on your grandson again,” Ashleigh replied calmly but spitefully.
“THAT’S enough,” Don Cartwright finally interjected. Years of kowtowing to his wife’s overbearing demeanour, and the guilt he felt over the way he had treated his daughter over the years, had finally come to a boiling point. Ashleigh and her mother stared at him, mouths gaping open in shock. They had never heard him raise his voice before.
“If this is what Brian wanted, then so be it. We will not file for guardianship, Barbara. Arguing about it will only cause Dillon more pain. Ashleigh, I don’t approve of your lifestyle, but you are still my daughter and I trust that you will take good care of Dillon.”
Having said his peace, he stood and regarded his wife. “Come on, Barbara, let’s go home.”
“But …”
“No buts, Barbara. Let’s go. Now!”
Ashleigh collapsed onto the sofa after they left and tried to make sense of the last couple of hours. Her brother was dead. She was now responsible for the care of an infant. And her father, of all people, seamed to be on her side.
Her grief over losing Brian was simmering near the surface but she could not allow it to consume her. She had so much to do. A funeral to plan. A house to sell. A new car to buy, since her Porsche was not fit for a car seat. And, she still had cases pending at work. All of it seemed overwhelming and she had not even stopped to consider what she would do with Dillon.
Being the ever-efficient and organized person that she was, she wrote out a list of things to do and diligently focussed all of her efforts on accomplishing those tasks.
First was a phone call to the sitter to find out, if in light of the circumstances, Dillon could stay there for one more day. Ashleigh thought that if nothing else, at least he was with someone reasonably familiar. His little world was about to be turned upside down as much as her own, and until she had a better plan, he was better off where he was.
Next was a phone call to her office. Deborah, her assistant, was very understanding and accommodating. After dealing with Ashleigh’s pending cases, she would handle getting her a new car.
Deborah and Ashleigh met in their third year of college and where Ashleigh excelled in all of her courses, Deborah struggled. Their friendship grew stronger over the years and had it not been for Deb, Ashleigh may not have survived her break-up with Eve. Eve was the love of her life—the woman she thought she would spend the rest of her life with. When Eve told her she had met someone new, Ashleigh felt her whole world come crashing down around her. She became even more focussed on her course load and devoted her full attention to her career, graduating two years early with honours. Deb never could quite get a handle on school. She eventually dropped out but remained one of Ashleigh’s dearest and closest friends.
“Not a minivan,” Ashleigh had insisted. “Preferably black.”
Deborah even volunteered to drive up to
Ashleigh had a ten o’clock appointment with the funeral home and the real estate agent was scheduled to meet her back at the house around one.
CHAPTER TWO
A knock on the door, later that evening, woke Ashleigh from the nap she was taking. When she opened the door, Deborah stood there dangling a set of keys in front of her face.
“Hey, how are you holding up?” she asked.
“Running on adrenaline, I imagine,” Ashleigh replied truthfully.
“You look like it,” Deborah said as she pushed her way past Ashleigh and into the kitchen. “When was the last time you ate anything?”
“Lunch, with you yesterday.”
“That’s what I thought,” Deb said while holding up the bag of burgers in her other hand. “Sit. Eat,” she ordered.
Ashleigh did as instructed. She knew better than to try to argue with Deborah. She had long ago given up. Deborah was not only her assistant, but also her best friend. Over the years, Deborah had stood by her during the best and worst of times and this was definitely one of the worst.
“What did you get me to drive?” Ashleigh asked curiously.
“An Audi Q7. It doesn’t exactly scream soccer mom, but it definitely whispers it,” she replied with a grin as she handed Ashleigh a burger with precisely the right toppings.
“Wonderful,” Ashleigh murmured sarcastically. She felt as though her entire life had been turned upside down. She left her apartment the night before as one person, and when she returned in a few days, she would be someone unrecognizable.
“You might as well get rid of the Ducati while you’re at it.”
“Are you sure, Ash? You love that bike.”
“I’ll never get to ride it, and I don’t have the heart to sell it on my own. Just make it go away before I get home.”
“Whatever you say, boss!” She mocked Ashleigh with a salute, as she often did when she disagreed with her.
“Who’s handling my cases?”
“Peterson, for now. Which should be fine except for the Blake case. You were supposed to go to trial next week. He won’t have time to get up to speed. Hopefully, under the circumstances, the judge will allow an extension.”
“I can’t see why not? We shouldn’t even be going to trial. There are so many holes in the prosecution’s case; it’s really a waste of time.”
Deborah knew all of this already. Ashleigh had been complaining about having to go to trial on the Blake case for the last two months. Rather than rehash the obvious, she decided to change the subject to something that seemed more important, at least to her.
“I forgot to tell you. That slimy reporter called and said he had a picture of you and a certain mayoral candidate’s wife looking very cosy as you walked into your apartment building.”
“Mmm, Teresa,” Ashleigh replied blissfully. “I wouldn’t mind spending another evening or two with her. What did you tell him?”
“The usual … but you promised to be more careful, Ash. Especially now. You’ve got Dillon to consider.”
“I know.”
Over the years, Ashleigh’s perfect record in the courtroom, as well as her work on some very high profile cases, had gained her a certain amount of notoriety in the city. It was, however, her lack of discretion outside of the courtroom that seemed to elicit the most attention. She was often caught socializing a little bit too intimately with the wives of some of the city’s most influential people.
She had a particular fondness for beautiful, successful, and happily married women. She felt empowered from actually having been able to seduce them and was happy to see them run back to their happily married lives when she was through with them.
Two days later, Ashleigh sat in the funeral home with Deborah by her side. She had spent hours weighing the pros and cons of bringing Dillon to the funeral and had finally decided it was a bad idea. She could find no benefit in him seeing his parents in caskets. He was much too young to understand, and in light of their significant injuries, he might not even recognize them.
The crowd of people gathered to pay their respects was spilling out of the room and into the hallway. It was evident by the number of people in attendance, that Brian and Victoria were very well liked and respected in their community. Ashleigh mindlessly wondered if anyone would attend her funeral if she died.
She caught the curious looks of distant family members as they regarded her while speaking with her parents. They were undoubtedly discussing Dillon and his new living arrangements. Aunts, uncles, cousins—all of them looking at her the way her parents did. Like she was an alien. Like she had no right to even consider raising Dillon in that type of environment. She wanted to return their curious and disapproving glances with angry, hurtful glares, but she couldn’t. When she regarded them, it was with sadness. How could they live their lives that way—sheltered, narrow-minded, and afraid of anything different? In some ways she understood the discrimination from her parent’s generation, but her cousins, who were all about her age, seemed to share their views on homosexuality.
She chuckled softly when her cousin Michael approached the casket with his “friend” Todd. Surely, someone should have caught on after all of these years. He was a flaming queen. A hairdresser even. Michael was the poster boy for every gay male stereotype there was. He even went out of his way to avoid Ashleigh. He feared that he would be found guilty by association, she suspected. She thought it sad, both that he had to hide who he was, and, that he seemed to accept it. As difficult as it was to live apart from her family, she couldn’t imagine trying to hide who she really was. It would be a lie. Even if they didn’t approve, at least she could sleep at night, knowing she was being true to herself.
As the reverend went about conducting the service, her mind wandered unwillingly to what the days ahead would bring. Thanks to the sitter’s explicit instructions, taking care of Dillon had been relatively easy thus far. She knew that would change over the days and weeks to come. She had no idea what to expect. Dillon would grow and change quickly—that much, she was certain of. But she had no knowledge of what to do. The few friends she had were not the motherly type and she could not go to her parents for help.
Her quick visit to the bookstore the day before had left her frustrated and confused. There were thousands of books professing to be the be all and end all guides to raising babies. After selecting four of the most promising titles, she was disheartened to find that no two books agreed on anything. Certainly, there had to be some guidelines that were applicable to all infants.
One book indicated that she should feed Dillon a certain amount of food; another book said that, that was too much. One book told her that he should be up for about six hours a day while another insisted that three hours was enough.
The reverend said something that pulled Ashleigh out of her reverie and she listened intently to the rest of the service.
She had managed to keep her emotions under control since Brian died, but as she stood watching her brother’s casket being slowly lowered into the ground, she finally broke down and cried.
Ashleigh was sitting on the couch two days later, watching Dillon play with his toys. The funeral was over and the house had been emptied of most of its possessions. Most of the furniture had been given to friends and family. The clothing was donated to a shelter. There were still a few things that Ashleigh had to sort through before she would be finished. Ashleigh and Dillon would be going home in a few days. It was very surreal. It seemed as though this entire episode was a dream or that it was a movie she was watching on TV. It could not be her life. This had to be happening to someone else. And poor Dillon. Not only had he lost the two most important people in his life, he was about to be uprooted.
She was going to have to make some drastic changes in her life. For the first time she could remember, she truly felt alone. She missed Brian terribly. It was as if he took a piece of her with him. But at the same time, he left a piece of himself for her. A piece she wasn’t sure how to make fit in her life. God, Brian, I hope you knew what you were doing when you left him to me. I want to make you proud of me, but I’m scared. I have never been so scared in my life.
All her life, she’d planned for the future. She meticulously set out her goals and aspirations. She did nothing without knowing exactly what she would gain from it. Dillon was not part of that plan. A small part of her resented Brian for leaving her in this situation. She didn’t want to feel this way, but that’s who she was. To outsiders, Ashleigh supposed she appeared selfish, and maybe she was. Partly because she knew that she was on her own. Her successes and happiness were achieved and measured by her and her alone. She liked it that way. No one depended on her and she depended on no one. One look at the little blond haired boy with eyes that matched her own and she realized that from now on, someone did depend on her. I hope I don’t disappoint you.
The tension of the last few days was starting to get to her. This was the first time she’d actually had time to sit and catch her breath. The pain hit her swiftly. You weren’t supposed to die, Brian, she sobbed. We had plans, you and I. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair. She stopped her uncharacteristic breakdown as quickly as it started. Ashleigh Cartwright did not lose control of her emotions this way. It wasn’t like her at all to sit there sobbing. She was usually very good at hiding what she was feeling. That is part of what made her a good attorney. She knew she had to pull herself together; if not for herself, then for Dillon.
Purposefully, she stood and made her way over to Dillon. He was happily bouncing in his jolly jumper, completely oblivious to how much his life was about to change.
“I know you’re having fun, Dillon; but it’s time for you to eat.” She lifted him out of the bouncing apparatus and carried him to the kitchen where she busied herself with heating his bottle.
He was nearly asleep, lying across her chest when the phone rang, startling both of them.
“Hello,” Ashleigh answered loudly over the sound of Dillon’s crying.
“Ms. Cartwright?” the voice on the other end of the phone questioned.
“Yes,” Ashleigh replied as she stood and began bouncing Dillon in her arms to calm him.
“This is Anne Bothwell, from the District Attorney’s office, here in
Ashleigh could not reply. She disconnected the call without further discussion and held Dillon closer and tighter. She needed to feel him so that maybe the numb sensation that had taken over her body would go away. Reggie Donaldson was supposed to spend the rest of his life in prison. Reggie Donaldson was the man that killed Brian and Victoria. Reggie Donaldson could not be dead.
Ashleigh wanted to see him pay. She wanted him to feel the anguish she and her parents felt. She wanted him to look at this little boy and understand what he had done. Instead, he took the cowardly way out. Why wasn’t he on suicide watch, she wondered mindlessly as her brain tried to process the news. Did he do it because he felt guilty or remorseful? Or, did he do it because he couldn’t face the rest of his life in prison. The answer to that question was very important to Ashleigh, but she doubted she would ever find out. He may have left a suicide note, but what would it matter really. Either way he was dead; and either way, he was free.
She wondered what his wife and kids were going through. She wanted to feel bad for them because, in a sense, they were victims as well. She couldn’t seem to find an ounce of compassion for them though. In her mind, they were just as responsible. They were probably the cause of his drinking problem. Or, at the very least, they did not try hard enough to stop him.
Dillon had finally dozed off again and Ashleigh carefully set him in his crib. All of this negative thinking probably wasn’t good for him. She’d read that babies, like animals, could sense tension or unease from those around them, even if they were not witness to it. She had to get her head together and place Dillon at the top of her priority list. I don’t know how, but I’m going to make everything all right for you, Little Man, she whispered before tiptoeing out of the room.
CHAPTER THREE
Ashleigh’s frustration was mounting. She felt like crying. During the last three days, she’d managed only a couple of hours of sleep in total. Dillon would not stop crying for more than a couple of minutes at a time. She had tried feeding him, changing him, rocking him, and walking with him. No matter what she did, she could not calm him. Her patience was wearing thin. She expected the adjustment to be difficult, but she had not prepared herself for this. It seemed that the only thing Dillon wanted and needed was something that Ashleigh could not provide. It was something no amount of money in the world could buy. Dillon needed his parents—the two people he trusted and loved more than anything in the world. There was no substitute for them. She felt useless and inadequate. What she really needed was a break. Even for just a couple of hours to get some rest.
Deb arrived first thing Saturday morning. Ashleigh had been home for only a few days and Deb heard the desperation in her friend’s voice when she called. Ashleigh was not the type of person to ask for help; so when she asked Deb to stop by and relieve her for a couple of hours, Deb was shocked.
“Ashleigh, honey, you look terrible,” Deb said.
“I feel terrible. I haven’t slept in days. I can’t even find the time to take a shower. I don’t think I’m cut out for this, Deb,” Ashleigh said wearily.
“Go take a shower, honey. I’ll listen for him,” Deb whispered. Dillon had finally fallen asleep about fifteen minutes prior to her arrival.
Ashleigh stood under the spray of water and allowed it to wash some of the stress away. She felt her body start to relax for the first time in days and she started to cry. She was overwhelmed and lost. She couldn’t care for Dillon in her current condition. As much as she hated the thought, maybe her mother had been right. Maybe she wasn’t the right person to care for Dillon. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried.
Ashleigh emerged from the bathroom nearly an hour later. She was exhausted, but refreshed. Deb was sitting in the living room with a wide-awake Dillon who was chewing on a wet cloth.
“I would say that this is one of your problems. The poor little guy is teething,” Deb said with a gentle smile.
“You’re kidding,” Ashleigh replied incredulously. “How could I have missed that?”
“Do you have any baby Orajel or anything?”
Ashleigh riffled through all of Dillon’s baby care products; most of which she had simply packed into boxes without examining. She came across the tube and brought it to Deb.
The results were almost instant. He calmed down immediately. Ashleigh was both relieved and annoyed with herself for not considering that Dillon could be teething. She felt like an idiot.
Deb seemed to sense what Ashleigh was feeling and said, “First of all, you’re exhausted. You aren’t able to think clearly. Sometimes it just takes a fresh set of eyes to see the problem. Don’t beat yourself up. Go get some rest. You’ll feel much better after a long nap.”
“Thanks, Deb,” Ashleigh muttered as she made her way unsteadily toward her bedroom. She passed out immediately, fully clothed, on top of the covers.
When she woke, nearly ten hours later, she felt a lot better. All was quiet. She found Deb sound asleep on the couch and went in to peek at Dillon. He too, was sound asleep and looked quite content for a change. He must have been as exhausted as she was.
It was nearly midnight and Ashleigh was starving. Eating was another thing she hadn’t had time to do during the course of the last few days. As quietly as possible, she managed to heat up some left over pasta. What she really wanted was a great big juicy steak, but the pasta would have to do.
“Hey, how do you feel?” Deb asked when she found Ashleigh in the kitchen eating and reading up on teething.
“Better. I can’t thank you enough. I was about to lose my mind.”
“Any time,” Deb replied sincerely. “You need a night out. Just to get out of here for a few hours. I’m sure there’s some pretty young thing out there with your name written all over her as we speak.”
“You know, for the first time in my life, sex has been the last thing on my mind. It would be a good stress reliever though.”
“It usually is for you,” Deb said and grinned knowingly.
“I don’t know. I’m just not up to it. I don’t have the energy. Maybe in a few days. Are you staying the night? The guest room is clean.”
Deb looked at her watch and yawned.
“I think I will. See you in the morning. He had his last bottle around eleven, so he should be down for a few more hours at least.”
Ashleigh rose from the table, walked over to Deb, hugged her tightly, and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you so much,” she said.
Deb was initially shocked by the uncharacteristic display of emotion and physical contact from Ashleigh. According to Ashleigh, there was no need for any of that unless the end result involved sex. The two of them had established a long time ago that they were never going to sleep together. That’s why Deb was so surprised by the hug. Ashleigh had never hugged her before. He’s changing her already, Deb thought happily. She loved her friend deeply, but there were things about her that needed to change. Things she thought might never change.
“Like I said, any time, honey. I love kids,” Deb replied and made her way to the guest room. She couldn’t stop herself from stealing a peek at Dillon on the way by. It was remarkable how much he resembled Ashleigh. He had the same high cheekbones and the same eyes. She’d managed to make him smile for a second earlier that evening, and noticed that he also shared the same smile as his aunt. That mischievous grin that warned you of their intention to wreck havoc. If Ashleigh thought this was hard, wait until he started walking and getting into things. Deb chuckled at the thought, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
“Hi,” Ashleigh said seductively when she opened the door to greet Syrianah a few days later.
“Hello. It’s been a while,” the attractive woman with the long blond hair replied. “I’ve missed you,” she said breathily.
“And I, you. Come in, please. We’ll have to be quiet though, so we don’t wake the baby,” Ashleigh said while taking in the beautiful sight before her in awe. Syrianah never failed to make her heart rate quicken. She was just what Ashleigh needed right now. An amazingly beautiful and sensual distraction.
Syrianah moved closer, pressing her body lightly, but intimately against Ashleigh’s, and whispered into her ear, “I don’t know how quiet I can be. You know how much I like to scream for you.”
Ashleigh moaned. She needed this. Deb was right. It was time to relax a little bit. Her body required some attention; and Syrianah was exactly the kind of attention it required.
She guided Syrianah to the bedroom, forgoing all the niceties of offering her a drink. Her time was limited at best and she intended to make the most of the precious few moments she had before Dillon woke up.
“Do you know how badly I need this?” Ashleigh murmured as she removed Syrianah’s silky blouse and dropped it casually on the floor, while nuzzling the exposed flesh on her neck.
“Well, then,” Syrianah said. “Allow me.” In one swift motion, she’d spun them around and had Ashleigh pinned to the bed. Her talented fingers had Ashleigh undressed in mere seconds.
“Do you want it fast or do you want it good?” she asked in a raspy voice.
“I know you can do it fast and good,” Ashleigh replied, nearly on the verge already.
Syrianah had already found one of Ashleigh’s nipples with her teeth. She was being less than gentle, and each flicker of pain shot a bolt of arousal directly to Ashleigh’s already throbbing center.
“God, that feels good,” Ashleigh muttered as coherently as possible. Her hips were involuntarily lifting off the bed in search of contact with any part of Syrianah’s body they could find in order to relieve the pressure between her legs.
“Not so fast, baby. I’m not finished up here yet,” Syrianah teased, her teeth still nipping roughly at Ashleigh’s swollen nipples.
Ashleigh groaned her frustration and did her best to remain still until her need became unmanageable. She flipped them over and unceremoniously yanked the remaining clothes from Syrianah’s body.
“I can’t wait any longer,” she said while grinding against Syrianah’s now bare thigh.
“Ashleigh, the baby’s crying.”
“What baby?” Ashleigh replied. She was getting frustrated with her attempt to relieve herself and Syrianah was not helping.
“The baby. Dillon. He’s crying.”
“Fuck,” Ashleigh growled. “I’ll be right back.” She stood, threw on a robe, and went to tend to Dillon.
Nearly a half hour had passed and Syrianah had lost patience and interest. She gathered her clothes, got dressed, and went in search of Ashleigh. She found her in the living room, feeding Dillon a bottle.
“I think I’m going to go. Call me when he turns eighteen,” she said as she walked out the door in frustration.
“Great,” Ashleigh said dejectedly. “Well, Dillon, I guess it’s just you and me.”
“Ms. Cartwright, there you are. It is very late. I tell you last week, I no do this no more,” Mrs. Consuellos was saying in her thick Spanish accent. “You no respect me. I have husband at home waiting for me. It is okay you late once in a while, but not every day. No more! I quit!” she added, waving her hands expressively in the air.
“I understand,” Ashleigh said quietly as Mrs. Consuellos walked out the door and slammed it shut behind her.
Ashleigh was not surprised. She heard essentially the same speech four weeks ago from Mrs. Davenport, but it had been in a much more reserved, haughty, English accent.
She let out a frustrated breath.
“Well, Little Man, looks like we lost another one.”
Ashleigh did not know what to do. She tried her best to be home on time everyday, but she rarely made it. There was always another call to make, another file to read, another witness to interview. It wasn’t her fault.
Maybe it was for the best. Ashleigh didn’t really like Mrs. Davenport or Mrs. Consuellos much. Mrs. Davenport was older and very strict. She ran a tight ship and never wavered from her regime. Ashleigh didn’t feel that Dillon was having any fun with her so she had not been that sorry to see her go.
Mrs. Consuellos, on the other hand, seemed to be a lot more fun and lenient, but she insisted on trying to mother Ashleigh as much as she did Dillon. She was always fussing over Ashleigh. “Eat this … You need more rest.” It was extremely irritating, but Dillon genuinely seemed to like her.
Ashleigh felt awful that she was turning Dillon’s world upside down again. It seemed that just when things would start to settle down for him, something like this would happen.
“Maybe you would have been better off with your grandparents,” Ashleigh said as she snuggled Dillon close and kissed him on the forehead. “Your daddy didn’t think so though … What are we going to do?”
Damn it Brian, I could use a little help down here, Ashleigh muttered, looking skyward, hoping her plea would reach Brian in Heaven.
