For the Love of Ash (10 page)

I grabbed a box of white rice before following him down the aisle. I looked up and saw a man talking to Asher.
 

What the hell?

He looked even better than I remembered from yesterday. His cargo pants were tight around his butt, a black tee-shirt squeezing his biceps into submission. He had on a black ball cap facing forward that shadowed his face.
 

I stared at the two of them standing together, talking as if they knew each other. They had to have. Asher wouldn't just run up and talk to a random person. I warned him about strangers over the summer when we walked everywhere. I pushed the cart towards them on a mission to figure out what the hell was going on.
 

Luke must have noticed me because his head shot up. Both his eyes lingered on mine, wide and in shock, until they dropped back down to Asher. He looked between the two of us, trying to find a connection, just as I looked at the two of them, trying to find their connection.
 

"What's going on here?" I asked when I was right in front of them. My voice sounded light and airy, not jittery like I felt inside. I dug my fingers into the cart handle to stop them from tingling.

"Mom, this is Mr. Wilson, my gym teacher!" Asher said, knocking me backwards as he tackled me, hugging around my waist. The mom thing again. I had to ask him what the sudden name change was all about. It almost felt like a punch to the gut every time the three letter word was uttered.

"You're a gym teacher?" I asked in disbelief, unable to hide the snark in my voice.

"Indeed I am," Luke said. His voice didn't give him away at all, and neither did his face. He was completely shielded, a blank slate. His eyes narrowed on me, refusing to actually make eye contact—they were always in front of me or behind me. The way his brows pinched tighter made me feel like he was thinking too hard.

"Well, we gotta go, Ash." I took his hand in mine and started to turn around and get out of there the way I came. The cart scraped against the floor as I one-handedly spun us around. Stupid wheel was shaky.
 

"Bye, Mr. Wilson!" Asher yelled over his shoulder as he let me lead him back up the aisle.

I turned, wanting Luke to say something else, but he didn't. Instead, he just stood there in the same exact place, not moving or speaking. Disappointed, I turned the corner, pushing the cart and Luke out of my head.
 

Chapter Nine

Maggie

The closest hockey rink with a fall league was an hour and a half away. I found my nails grinding into the steering wheel of the car more times than not as I made the drive. Between the cost of the league, gas, and time it took, I found myself frustrated and financially spent. But Asher's one passion in life was hockey.
 

His skills in the sport surpassed most other nine-year-olds by a long shot. I didn't like to use my parents' money, but this particular league cost five hundred dollars up front with no payment plan options. I had to borrow from the account they set up for me. Other than the hockey withdrawals, I hadn't touched a single cent.
 

I couldn't bring myself to use it despite the need. It was tainted and dirty. I could do this by myself. I didn't need handouts or their constant help that would only serve as a reminder to how ruthless and uncaring they were. If I really needed it, I'd use it. But until then, I was fine with the house and using it for Asher's sports.

I pulled into the rink parking lot, finding a spot right near the cross walk. Asher was more silent than usual. He stared out the window, sucking his thumb. I could understand his nervousness since it was his first practice. Not only that but he made the U10 team. He always worried about fitting in.

I knew how awful kids could be. My heart hurt for him, and I just wanted to help him make friends. I used to be one of those shitty kids that was so insecure they felt the need to put down others.
 

Whether they were threatened by him being so young, or just didn't like him, I wasn't sure. But last year the kids weren't the nicest to Asher, teasing him for everything from being a baby to saying he was a poor player. But he stuck the season out like the champion he was, all because hockey was his love.
 

I cut the ignition and hopped out of the car. Asher stayed inside as I walked towards the back and popped the trunk. His large black bag was unzipped, equipment spilling out, so I shoved everything inside and shut it. I threw the bag over my shoulder and shut the trunk.

I pulled open his door, and he jumped in his seat. "Come on, buddy. We're right on time." He widened his eyes as if he was in a deep sleep and then smiled up at me. He hopped out of the car with his new stick in his hands and stared up at me with those neon green eyes. I loved this kid. I grabbed his chin, lifted it up, and kissed his cheek.

I nodded towards the main entrance and led the two of us towards the large brick building. This place would become a second home over the next few months. I hiked the bag over my back and looked over towards the river.
 

Sometimes I worried that this place was going to get drowned when a heavy storm rolled through. The red brick walls pressed right up against the Shelton River. Even stranger, despite the river not really moving, it never iced over. I looked over my shoulder to make sure that Asher was still with me.

The sliding doors opened for us, and we entered the cold area, not sure where to go. The ground was like a galaxy, black with multicolored speckles coating it. They used this crappy foam flooring so skates wouldn't get dull when kids walked across it. A white board propped against the white wall told us where to go.
 

U10: Locker room C

I didn't go into the locker room with him. Instead, I passed off his bag, knowing that he liked to carry it to the room himself. The bag was just about as tall as him and probably weighed something close.
 

He started to walk through another set of sliding glass doors, the bag completely shielding his body, but he suddenly stopped. He dropped his bag and placed the stick on top of it and ran back to my side. Burying his head in my stomach, he started murmuring things I couldn't understand and rubbing his head against me like a needy kitten.
 

"Buddy, what's wrong?" I bent down so that we were face to face and grabbed onto his shoulders.
 

"What if I suck? We didn't play much this summer, and I could have gotten worse," he explained. His green eyes filled with tears, his bottom lip beginning to tremble.

"Seriously, Ash. You're the best kid out there, you know that. You're going to be just like Gretzky. I'm here if you need me, but you're going to be amazing." I hoped I was saying the right words to make him confident. His innocent eyes met mine, full of questions.

"Okay. Can you sit in the middle?"
 

"Of course." I nodded. "Go on," I said, patting his butt as he turned to go.

"Love you, Mom."
 

"Love you too, buddy," I said back, trying to understand this recent name change. I didn't get it, but I didn't want to push anything until I asked our therapist, Dr. Cohen.
 

Five minutes before practice began, I walked into the downstairs rink and sat in the middle of the bleachers like I had promised. I was able to watch him with ease. His passion translated into his game, and it was obvious that this was his calling in life. Of course, it helped that he played like a superstar.
 

I didn't get why Asher became so nervous. If anything, he had only improved over the summer. He could skate circles around these ten-year-olds like it was no problem. I brought him to enough Sticks and Pucks at all the local rinks.

When practice ended, I headed into the warming hut, which really wasn't that much warmer than the rink. They had a small concession stand, and I grabbed a coffee for a dollar.
 

I sat on a bench by myself, leaning against the window. My mind had gone numb from my excruciatingly long day. I couldn't even dwell on what I had to do when I got home. I could've fallen asleep with how long it took Asher to undress. He was always the last one out of the locker room. I could understand why, since there was so much equipment to take on and off. His new coach exited through the double doors and stopped right in front of me.
 

"Hello, Mrs. Larken. I wanted to talk to you about Asher." The man was large, probably in his mid-forties. I stood up, not wanting the conversation to be awkward, and ran my hand through my knotty hair.
 

"Sure, what's going on?"
 

"I'm sure you saw, but he was really great today." He paused and I nodded, wanting him to get to the point. "I was thinking maybe I could try him out on our U12 team."

"U12? Really?"
 

"Normally, I would ask him first, but I wanted to get the okay from his parents. If you didn't know, U12 allows checking," Coach said.

"Oh." I sighed, knowing nothing would make Asher happier than to be on a team that pushed and challenged him. "Can I think about it?" I asked.

"Sure, talk it over with your husband. Here's my card. You can call me." I hated when people made assumptions, but I couldn't blame him. "You've got a talented kid," he said while walking away.

"Thanks," I muttered, shaking my head as I tried to think this through.

When we got home from practice, I ran in and set the table for a snack. It was nine-fifteen, but after practice, I was sure he was hungry. I whipped up some quick peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and laid them out at the kitchen table.
 

"Ready, Ash!" I yelled. Asher smelled like a normal child again, soapy and clean, with his hair wet and still dripping. He was no longer my sweat-laden mongrel.
 

"I wanted to talk to you," I said after he sat down at the table. He groaned, but I kept going. "You've started calling me Mom. Is there a reason or…" I trailed off not knowing what else to say. My stomach tilted as I debated my next words.

"I don't know. You don't want me to?" His voice sounded broken, and he seemed much younger than he was as he looked up at me through his dark lashes.

"No, of course I do. I just wanted to know the sudden reason." The last thing I wanted was to hurt his feelings or make it seem like it wasn't okay. I reached across the table and grabbed his hand.

"Everyone at school talks about their moms, and I don't want to say 'Maggie' 'cause that's stupid. I just think you're my mom more than our real mom was before anyway. I'm sorry."
 

He broke my heart. I knew our mom wasn't in the picture much for me, but I just always assumed Asher knew she loved him. I had hoped that she changed, or tried to do better with him.

"Mom loved you, you know."

"Not as much as you do."
 

"Nobody loves you as much as I do." I grabbed him around the shoulders and tugged him towards me. I planted hundreds of loud kisses on his cheeks and neck until he giggled, little bubbles of joy emanating from him. "I have something else I want to say, too."