Page 60 of Forgotten
“He does remember some things, at home.”
“Doesn’t remember you or Winnie, though,” Edwin (or Martin) adds in a stern voice. The twins sound as aggressive as always only now, there’s a hint of protectiveness.
Ash is incredibly defensive when he mutters, “He remembers me.”
“Of course he fucking does,” Martin (or Edwin) snaps.
“Chill out man,” Erik interjects, his voice calm and controlled as ever. “This is not Ford’s fault. He loves Ash and he loves Winnie and you two need to fucking relax.”
The twins grunt in unison in response and I want to stop listening. I need to get away from here. I need to move and join Winnie in the play room and start braiding her hair.
“Have you spoken to Mom?” Ash asks instead.
“You know we haven’t. Ed’s been home last week and she’s…” Erik says gently.
“She doesn’t want to talk to me. Or you. Well, us.” This must be Edwin Bergman explaining.
“Had a bruised wrist.”
“He can fucking die,” the other twin spits and I hear Ash sighing.
“Okay, let’s all calm down. You’re driving over on Friday evening. Greg is driving Friday morning. You know you can stay here if you want, we’ve got space.”
The sound on the phone changes and I can tell that Erik is not on speaker anymore. “Thanks, but it’s best if we stay at the Inn. Greg’s made a reservation for us all and we’ll have dinner with him.”
At the mention of my dad I keep deathly still, heartbeat pounding in my ears. It doesn’t surprise me that my dad has been spending time with the Bergman brothers. The way he’s always loved Ash, he was going to end up loving the twins and Erik as well. Especially now that we are a real family.
But a part of me is also protective, jealous of the fact that my dad is not here with me, supporting me. He’s supporting everyone, as usual. That’s how big his heart is. But I need him, too, now more than anything. And he is not here.
“Alright. We can hang on Saturday then. You know Ford loves you all, yeah?”
“Yes Ash, we know. Does he?”
And that’s my cue. All my energies are focused on keeping the tears in as I rush down the corridor into theplayroom, where Winnie is waiting for me. I find her sitting exactly where I left her, with a grin and a messy head of hair.
“Okay peanut, let’s do this.”
I’m halfway down the third braid when Ash appears at the door. He leans into the frame, tall and lean and so, so handsome. His hair is loose and so long it goes past his shoulders, blue eyes barely awake. He’s already changed for the day in a pair of blue jeans, a white shirt and a green blazer.
“Breakfast?” he asks after studying me and Winnie.
“Pa!” Winnie exclaims, noticing him. She extends her hands towards him and Ash walks to her, kneeling down so he can kiss a puffy cheek.
“Good morning Winnie-pops.”
Grabbing a small hair elastic, I secure the braid and move on to the next. But first, I look up to Ash and purse my lips. “Don’t I get a good morning kiss?”
With a smirk, Ash pecks my lips, quickly but sweetly. When I open my eyes, he’s staring at me adoringly.
“Good morning, love,” Ash tells me and I almost let go of the strands, messing up my work.
Winnie starts wiggling restlessly and Ash reassures her. “Almost done, Winnie. Papa’s going to make breakfast now and Dad will bring you down in a minute. Be good.”
I can’t seem to tear my gaze away as Ash makes his way out of the room. The way the jeans are hugging his legs, the long neck and the broad shoulders. I fiddle withWinnie’s hair, suddenly unsure how to proceed with the curly strands.
“Who taught me how to braid?” I blurt out, hoping he’ll stay a little longer.
Ash smirks. “Morgan did.”
