STEPHANIE:

      "Well, I bet I'm gonna hear about that later," I mumble as I end my conversation with Jinxx. He called to invite me to the birthday party they're throwing for Ashley, and I just let the first thing that popped into my head fly out of my mouth, instead of thinking it through. If I'd actually fired up a couple of brain cells, I could have been noncommittal enough to keep him from being suspicious, and figured out an excuse to beg off later. But now I'd be willing to put money on him asking Alice about it, and having to come up with a believable explanation for her when she calls me.

      I put my phone down and finish unloading my kiln, checking to make sure that nothing has cracked or warped before I shelve everything to wait for glazing. As I put the pieces away, my attention goes to the piece I made for Ashley, which just came back from being wired yesterday. It came out absolutely gorgeous, and I know I should be proud of it, but I'm having a little trouble with that right now. Every time I look at it, I just feel like there's a bowling ball in the pit of my stomach, because it just reminds me that I've wasted my time and effort on someone who doesn't really appreciate it. For awhile, I couldn't decide whether to send it to the party with Macy and Lylah to keep everything quiet, or just say fuck it and post it for sale on my website. But I realized that I won't be able to avoid him forever, and I'll have to at least keep up the appearance of civility, so I guess he'll be getting it after all.

      I hear a text notification on my phone, so I walk back over to look, and see that it's a message from Barnes and Noble, letting me know that a couple of books I ordered have come in. I look at the clock, and see that it's already almost noon, and I still need to run to the grocery store to pick up some things we're running out of, so I guess I might as well get that done, and stop by the bookstore on the way home. I just need to run inside first, find a shirt that isn't covered in paint and clay, and grab my purse, so I turn off the lights and head back to the house.

      I stop in the bathroom to wash my hands, then go to my room and toss my grubby flannel into the hamper. Opening my T-shirt drawer, I snag a gray shirt off the top, and pull it over my head without even checking to see which one it is. I pick up my purse and go back to the living room for my keys, and as I glance into the entryway mirror, I see that I've put on a shirt which reads, in large black letters with flames drifting off of the first word: 

                                                                          CREMATION:

                                                     My last hope for a smokin' hot body

      Oh, well, it's not like it isn't appropriate anyway, so what the hell? I get in the SUV and hook my phone up to the speaker, so I don't have to mess with it when I start driving. Then I head for the Hy-Vee that's closest to the bookstore, opening my window so everyone else can hear my rather random selection of music. People sometimes get a little puzzled when they see my CD collection, or my playlists, because I've developed some rather eclectic tastes, and a lot of it doesn't really seem to go together. I'm humming along with Aerosmith's "Permanent Vacation" when I get to the store, and decide to let the song finish before I get out of the car instead of shutting it off. Then I go inside, grab a cart, and start loading up on produce, pasta, and multiple cans of cream soups, along with some tortillas and baking supplies.

       What with the fact that Macy and Lylah have both been working some oddball hours recently, it's gotten to where there will only be one or two nights a week that all three of us will be home to eat dinner together, so I've been putting together a lot of things in big batches that I can divvy up and freeze so everyone can just pull something out to thaw in the fridge during the day, and either pop it in the oven or nuke it whenever they get home. So we have a number of different pasta dishes, burritos, and soups stashed right now, along with different kinds of scones and some individual portions of stuff like taco fillings and desserts. 

      After I pay for my stuff and carry it out to the car, I drive down to the bookstore, and decide while I'm there to pick up a few kids books to add to the package of birthday gifts that I'm going to be mailing to Jamie next week. I walk in and head toward the kids section, and as I pass a display of Sesame Street toys and books, something very familiar catches my eye. I reach out, and pick up a copy of "The Monster at the End of This Book", which was my favorite bedtime story when I was little. I flip through the pages and look at the pictures of Grover, remembering how I used to have Grampy read it to me at least twice a week, and giggle when he'd do silly voices. Jamie would absolutely love that, so I put the book in my basket and start to walk away, but then I go back and grab another copy for myself, as a memento of my Grampy.

      I make my way around the shelves, tossing a couple of Richard Scarry books in the cart, and eventually wind up at a table filled with Dr. Seuss books, so I stop for a few seconds and try to remember which ones he already has. I add "Bartholomew and the Oobleck", and "The Sneetches" to the pile, and I'm shuffling through several others when I sort of register that someone has walked up behind me. I move in closer to the table, expecting them to go on past, but I nearly toss the book I'm looking at across the store when I hear a voice almost right in my ear say, "Steph, I really need to talk to you. Will you please listen?"

      I very slowly turn around, and Ashley is standing less than a foot away, looking both nervous and somewhat unhappy, with his hands stuffed into his pockets and his head down. I put the books down and fold my arms across my chest, responding, "I'm not sure what we have to talk about. I thought you made yourself pretty clear when Shannon called you the other night."

      "No, that's exactly what I didn't do. I've explained what happened to Shannon and the others, and I've been trying to get ahold of you all week, but you haven't returned any of my calls. CC seems to think that you blocked me."

      "Well, CC's right. I'm not in the mood to hear a bunch of excuses, and I didn't figure your new playmate would care much for you talking to other women," I retort. I grab the handle of my cart and try to move around him, but he grabs the front of it, with a rather odd expression on his face, and says one of the last things I expect to hear:

      "You won't hear any excuses, because I don't have any. I can explain what happened, but I can't even excuse myself, so I don't have any right to expect it from anyone else," he sighs. "And you don't have to worry about what she thinks, because I sure as hell don't. She's back in Florida, and she can stay there for all I care."

      I raise an eyebrow at him, and say, "Well, I knew you enjoyed playing the field, but isn't that attitude a little, I dunno... inconsiderate?"

      He sort of shrugs, and surprises me again with his reply, "No more so than showing up half-naked on my bed while I'm in the shower for a booty call, without bothering to fucking tell me that she has a fiancee in Tampa. I used to think of her as a friend, but that went out the window the second I found that out."

      For some reason, I suddenly feel angry with him all over again, so I jerk the cart away from him and retort, "Well, that is a pretty shitty thing to do, I suppose. To him, at least. But as far as you're concerned, it sounds like pure karma to me. You're bitching about her not being truthful when you can't be bothered to do it yourself! You claim that we're friends, and that friends should be honest with each other, but I guess that only applies when it's convenient for you!"

      He looks totally confused, and asks, "What does that even mean? What do you think I've been trying to do all week? What exactly is it that you think I'm not being truthful about?"

      I open my mouth to respond, and instantly get mad at myself when I realize that I'm actually on the verge of tears, which is something that I try my damndest not to let anyone see, since it usually just makes things worse. I take a couple of breaths to compose myself, and finally manage to say, "Ash, I'm a big girl, I think I would have survived if you'd just called me, or even sent a text, and just said, 'Hey Steph, forget about the party, I got a better offer,' or something along those lines. I mean, it's not like it was an actual date or anything, so I wouldn't have held it against you if you'd actually had the nerve to do that, instead of pulling the shitty trick that you did. Hell, it's not even like it's the first time someone's decided that they'd rather not be seen in public with me, so it's not like I would've been shocked or anything." The last sentence flies out before I can stop myself, and I can feel tears starting to leak out, so I try to pull the cart away from him again. 

      He lets go, but instead of stepping back, he takes me totally off guard by reaching out and cupping my face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush the tears off of my cheeks. "I don't ever want to hear you say something like that again, because it's totally not true!" he states emphatically. "I swear to you that I didn't bail on you deliberately, we had such a bad day in the studio that I actually forgot that the party was even happening until after Alyssa left, when I checked my messages and Andy mentioned it. And he'd called me several times before Shannon did, and I thought it was him again, that's why I blew up."

      He pauses for a second, and glances at me a bit apprehensively before he says, "I hope you won't get mad about this, but Jinxx told me about what you told Alice, about what happened when you were in college. That was a completely shitty thing for anybody to do to another human being, and I'm sorry you ever had to deal with that. But I'm not that guy, Steph. I never intended to hurt you, or anyone else, and if I could undo it I would, but I can't. But I am sincerely sorry for everything, and I'll do whatever I need to do to make it up to you if you'll let me, because I really don't want to lose you as a friend. So do you think that you could consider giving me another chance to prove that I'm not the thoughtless asshole I've evidently made everyone think I am?"

      I look up at him, and he looks so miserable that I can tell he's actually being completely truthful, because even though you can't always judge someone's sincerity by their facial expressions, I don't think that anyone could fake the sadness I see in his eyes right now. He lowers his hands and jams them into his pockets again, looking at me like he expects me to yell at him again or something. But instead, I put my hand on his arm and say, "I think that could be arranged, on one condition."

      "What's that?"

      "That you promise me that we can always be completely straight with each other from now on. Even if you think it might hurt my feelings, or that I'll get mad, I'd rather hear whatever it is than not."

      He nods, giving me a lopsided grin, and replies, "Yeah, I can live with that, if you can accept my condition in return." I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate, and he says, "From now on, if I should happen to say or do something that upsets you or makes you mad, actually talk to me about it instead of shutting me out, and I'll do the same for you. Agreed?"

      When he puts it this way, I have to admit that he has a point, so I say, "Agreed. And I'm sorry about that, I guess it was a little immature. But it kind of brought that damned dance back all over again, and I just couldn't make myself... Oh, I don't even know what the hell I was thinking anymore!"

      He starts shaking his head as I'm talking, and pulls his hands back out of his pockets, putting them on my shoulders. "No, Steph, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I totally understand how those kinds of memories can affect people's reactions to things, and even though it wasn't intentional, I made you feel those things all over again. All of you had every right to be upset with me, but I promise that it won't happen again." Then he opens up his arms and inquires, "So since we're friends again, do you think I might be able to get a hug now?"

      I move forward and wrap my arms around his waist, and feel his circle around me, with one hand palming the back of my head. We stay this way long enough to start getting some curious looks from other people in the store before he finally eases back from me and reaches for his phone. "I hate to have to dash, but the guys are waiting for me to get back to the studio, so I need to see if I can get an Uber," he explains. "But I'm definitely glad we got everything worked out."

      "You really don't need to do that," I tell him. "If you can hang for just a few more minutes while I check out, I'll gladly give you a ride. I need to talk to Jinxx, anyway. I said something to him earlier that I kind of need to take back."

      "About being too busy for my birthday party, you mean?"

      I can feel my face heat up when I realize that he actually knows this, so I know I'm blushing, but I just say, "Yeah, that." and move toward the front of the store. When we get to the register, I put Jamie's books on the counter, they hunt up my order, and I pay for everything. Ash grabs my bag before I can, and carries it out to the car, reaching over to lay it in the back seat before he gets in and fastens his belt.

      As I start the engine, he turns to look at me, and inquires, "Would it be too nosy if I ask why you have a bag full of kids books here?"

     "No, not at all. My friend Talia's son is turning four on February seventh, and I'm putting them in the package of birthday gifts I'm mailing to him. Well, all except for one, anyway. I bought two copies of that book so I can have one for myself, because it makes me think of my Grampy."

      I hook my phone back up to the speakers before pulling out of the lot, and he seems to be somewhat surprised when the first song that plays is "Goodbye Earl" by the Dixie Chicks. "You like country music, too?" he blurts.

      "I heard a lot of country when I was a kid, because that was what my grandpa listened to, and I feel the same way about it as I do basically every other genre of music except rap and opera," I reply. "Some of it I like, and some I can do without. If you get enough exposure to my playlists, you'll hear all sorts of stuff."

      "And what about the opera and rap?" he asks.

      "I basically dislike those across the board. Most opera makes me think of someone torturing farm animals, and pretty much the only rap I've ever been able to tolerate is the old Will Smith stuff, and maybe a couple of Run DMC songs."

      I get a couple of raised eyebrows while we drive across town as the music progresses from the Dixie Chicks to "A-M-E-R-I-C-A" by Motionless In White, to "Beats So Lonely" by Charlie Sexton, and then Warren Zevon's "Lawyers, Guns and Money" just before we get to Feldy's place.

      "Okay, I guess you do have some rather diverse tastes," he observes as we get out and start walking across the parking lot. "Those last two songs I'd never even heard of until now. But there's one thing I do need to know: How do you feel about Dolly Parton?"

      "I'm cool with Dolly."

      "Excellent, we can still be friends, then," he chuckles. "What's your favorite song?"

       "I'd have to say that my favorite is either 'Two Doors Down' or 'Nine to Five'. How about you?

       "For me, it's either 'Here You Come Again', or 'Coat Of Many Colors'. My Nan really liked that one, and it reminds me of her."

      We get to the door, and he opens it, holding it to let me go in first before he follows, and we basically follow the noise to the lounge, where the guys and Feldy are hanging out, along with Inna, Macy, and the other assistant engineer, Adam. They look up as we come into the room, and CC calls out, "So I take it that she's speaking to you again, dude!"

      Macy turns toward us with a rather puzzled expression and says, "Huh? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

      I throw a glare in his direction, which makes him tuck his head in like a turtle, then say, "Chill, Mace, it's not that major. We had a bit of a misunderstanding before I went to Santa Barbara, and I didn't want it to be an issue here, so I didn't mention it to anyone. But it's all cool now, so don't worry about it."

      Then I turn to Jinxx, and say, "About that conversation we had this morning... nevermind what I said. I'll definitely be there."

      "Glad to hear it," he says with a grin. "I'll have Alice get you the details once we firm up a couple of last minute details."

      I hang out and converse with everyone for a few more minutes before Feldy informs them that they need to get back to work, since Ash is there. So I say goodbye and get ready to head home and put up my groceries, but as I open the door to leave, Ash yells at me to wait.

      I stop in the doorway as he dashes over, and when he stops in front of me, he says, "Before you go, I was just thinking about something. Are you doing anything tomorrow night?"

      "Nothing major, no. Why?"

      "Because I was wondering if you might like to go out to dinner with me. We can hang out and talk, and maybe I can sort of make up for the other night. I think it might be fun, so whaddya say?"

      "Yeah, I can do that, it does sound like fun," I respond. "Did you have anyplace particular in mind?"

      He asks me to wait for a second, whips out his phone, and starts tapping, then holds it out for me to see. When I look, I see that he's texted a very popular new Italian restaurant to check on availability. "Looks like we can get a table at seven-thirty, if you're cool with Italian," he tells me. "If not, that's cool. We can do sushi, or Chinese, or whatever sounds good to you."

      "I love Italian food," I answer. "So if you wanna take that spot, I'm cool with it."

      He taps for a couple more seconds, then says, "Done. We have a reservation for seven-thirty, so I'll pick you up around six forty-five, if that's good for you."

      "That sounds fine. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

      He goes back to the control room, and I head out to the car to go home. When I get there, I unload the car, carry everything in, and start putting the food away. Then, as I'm stacking the soup cans in the cabinet, something crosses my mind that I haven't had to think about since I left London, which nearly causes me to have a miniature anxiety attack: I'm going out to dinner at an upscale restaurant... with Ashley Purdy.

      What the hell am I going to wear?