Ride Steady(154)

“Oh no,” I whispered, because I had also suddenly remembered something in all the turmoil of the last year that I’d completely forgotten.

I had stuff in the attic of Aaron’s house. A couple of boxes filled with yearbooks, some photo albums, commemorative coins my mom’s uncle used to give me for reasons I didn’t understand but I’d always kept them.

And that was where Joker’s sketch was, framed and tucked away because Aaron didn’t like it, no matter that it was of me and it was beautiful. When we moved in together after the wedding, I’d put it out and he’d told me (not asked me) to put it away.

I’d put it away.

And then, in a dither that my life was a mess, I left it behind.

“No,” I whispered again.

I needed to get it back.

Darn it!

I grabbed my phone, turned it to me, and slid my thumb on the screen.

As usual, Joker had texted me, and as usual, it was sweet.

This time, it was, You’re on my mind.

I liked that.

What I didn’t like was the notification above it that said I had a missed call and voicemail from Aaron.

Ulk.

Well, he had my son and it could be about Travis, not to mention I needed to talk to him about the boxes, so I quickly texted Joker back with, Me too, sweetie. See you tonight.

Then I listened to Aaron’s voicemail, which only said, “Riss, hey. When you have a second, call me. Okay? Later, honey.” All of this like we left voicemails for each other every day due to the fact we were in love, married, had a baby, and all was hunky dory.

This was not a surprise. This was the way he behaved when he went about getting back into my good graces the other times he’d jerked me around.

But this time, I didn’t feel hope from his behavior.

I only felt exasperation.

I drew in breath and hit the Call Back button, hoping all was okay with Travis, further hoping that Aaron wouldn’t give me any guff about me getting the boxes in the attic, and last hoping that I got voicemail (of course, only if Travis was okay).

It rang twice before he greeted, “Hey, Riss.”

I fought a gag and asked, “Is Travis okay?”

“He’s fine, babe.”

Babe?

He’d never called me babe.

“Listen,” he carried on. “I’ll be working into the night. Can you come to the office? We need to talk. I’ll get food in and we can talk over Chinese or something.”

Was he crazy?

“I have plans tonight, Aaron,” I told him. “So perhaps you can tell me what you’d like to discuss while you have me now.”

“I’d like to do it in person.”

“Is this about Travis?” I pushed.

“In a way,” he hedged.

I didn’t have time for this.

“Okay, Aaron, I’m at work on lunch break and I need to eat so I don’t have a lot of time. It’d help if you could be more forthcoming.”

He hesitated for a moment before he said, “It’s about Travis, you, and me.”

You and me?

“You may have missed this, but there is no you and me,” I pointed out.

“Riss—”

“Stop,” I whispered.

He stopped.

Then he started again.

“That was wrong to ask.”

He was so right.

Then, as he was wont to do, he went wrong.

“The wrong way to go about it. This is important. I’ll ask Mom to look after Travis and I’ll take you to dinner so we can talk. It may be a while before I can get away but I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

He was crazy.

“Aaron, please don’t do this,” I said quietly.

“Do what?” he asked. “Sit down with my wife to talk about our family?”

His wife?

Our family?

I wanted to kick him. Since I couldn’t, I lost patience with him.

“I can’t do this now,” I snapped.

“I messed up,” he said gently. “I’ve been thinking a lot, can’t get it out of my head. I messed up, Riss, and I want to fix it. I’m trying to fix it. And I have to talk to you about what I’ve been thinking.”

“I just said I can’t do this now,” I reminded him. “I’m at work. I have to get my lunch and get back to my register.”

Before I could continue in order to finish our conversation, he muttered, “I hate you work a cash register at a f*cking grocery store.”