CHAPTER 16
We get to Ashley’s house at about six, and the place is fucking huge. Like, rock star huge, only with more class and less druggies sleeping outside. James swipes his card and the gate opens up and there are Bentleys and BMW’s sitting around the driveway that look like they’ve never been driven.
“Holy fuck.” I say.
“I know. And you’re only seeing the outside. The cars he keeps out in the rain. He’s got more Ferraris in the back garage than I’ve got digits in my bank account.”
“Jesus Christ, do you think I look dressed well enough?”
“I don’t know. That’ll be for Mr. Mitchell to decide. I personally don’t like the tie, but that’s just because I don’t prefer the stripes. More of a solid color man myself. No offense.”
“None taken.”
I get out of the car and James pulls away, and out of the gate he goes. The house is so big that it looks like a cathedral, with the grey brick and the large windows. I go up to the door and ring the doorbell, hoping to God Ashley is the one that answers and not her mom or dad. The door opens and a middle aged white woman is standing in the doorway.
“Hi, I’m here to have dinner with Ashley?” I say, very awkwardly.
“Of course. They’ve been expecting you. My name is Marla. If you need anything, all you have to do is call my name or buzz me, and I’ll be there in a moment.”
She seems pretty nice, and pretty laid back, kind of like James. While she’s walking ahead of me, I pop the other Xanax in my mouth, and chew it up. Ashley’s on the couch, beside her mom, and her dad is in his own personal chair, with an ottoman in front of it, his legs stretched out. Her mom is very beautiful, and extremely skinny, almost anorexic. Blonde hair, and she has high cheekbones, so I start to wonder if she could’ve been a model at some point in her life. If that’s how Mr. Mitchell snatched her up. Her dad on the other hand is a big man. When I say big, I don’t mean fat. I mean, big shoulders, chiseled face, with brown hair with some grey spots in it, but it looks well taken care of. Ashley stands up and so does her mother. The father turns back and looks at the TV while Ashley introduces me to her mom.
“Very nice to meet you. Ashley’s told us a lot about you. I’m so sorry to hear about your friend. It must be hard living with something like that.” I sort of shrug, because the Xanax has kicked in at this point.
“I came out in one piece, so I guess that’s all that matters.” I say, and stand by Ashley like she’s my bodyguard.
“And this is my father. Dad, get up to say hello.”
“I’m watching the movie.” He says, grunts, then turns the TV off and gets up.
“Hi there. Arthur Mitchell. Nice to meet you.” I put my hand out to shake and he grabs it, almost breaking the bones in my fingers when he does. I was on the verge of yelling when he lets go, but all I can do is smile at him.
“Nice to meet you too.” I put my hand in my pocket and it’s throbbing. “Marla, dear, is dinner ready yet?” Mrs. Mitchell calls out.
“In just a moment. You all sit down and get ready. It’ll be out before you know it.”
“If it’s out before I know it, then why isn’t it on the table already?” Mr. Mitchell says, in a whispering tone, and Mrs. Mitchell shoots him a nasty glare, and all the while I’m just making sure I sit to the left of Ashley, as far away from her father as possible.
Ashley sits down at the table, and she sits in the chair at the head of the long table, knowing that’s where her dad will sit. I seize the opportunity and sit down to her left, away from her dad, and either beside or in front of her mom. But her dad doesn’t sit in his usual chair, he goes all the way to the end of the table, and sits right beside me.
“Dad, why aren’t you sitting where you normally sit?” Ashley asks, knowing that he did it on purpose.
“I can sit wherever the fuck I want, can’t I? It’s my table. I bought the damn thing. If I want to sit in the middle of it, I’ll sit there.” I gulp and get ready for a long night.
Ashley’s mother is sitting across from me, beside her husband, and directly in my point of view when I look up from eating. Ashley is trying to decide where she could sit to make it better, and she gets up and sits in the master chair at the other end of the table. I grab her arm to try and stop her but it’s too late.
“Looks like we’re playing musical chairs tonight.” Mr. Mitchell says.
“Ashley tells us you’re a psychology major. How do you like it?” Her mother says.
“Oh, I like it a lot. It’s really interesting stuff. Learning why people do the things they do and the things they don’t do. It’s all very interesting.” I wish I had food in front of me so I could eat it after I talk, but Marla isn’t ready to bring it out yet.
“So, are you a Freud kind of guy?” Mr. Mitchell says, looking straight at me. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Well, Freud believed that every boy wants to fuck his mother and every girl wants to fuck her father. So, do you believe that, or is your mother not all that good looking?” I don’t know what to say, but a feeling of anger passes over me, and then I remember what Ashley said about him trying to test me.
“I don’t believe Freud knew what he was talking about.”
“Ah, so you’ve got any ugly mother. It’s understandable.”
“Jim, behave yourself!” Mrs. Mitchell says.
“I don’t think my mom is all that ugly, but I haven’t seen her in some time.”
“Did she abandon you? Leave you with your dad to take care of you? Couldn’t stand you anymore, had to get away?” He says, trying to bait me.
“No sir. She’s dead.” I look up and smile at him and his face goes white.
“Dinner’s ready!” Marla says as she brings out four different plates all at once on a little cart, interrupting the awkwardness that had just fallen over the table.
She puts my plate in front of me, and it looks delicious, although, I can’t tell exactly what type of meat it is. It’s surrounded by squash, and green beans that look like they were just picked today, and a small bit of pudding that sits off to the side. I thank Marla and her face gets red, and I don’t know why.
“Marla, can you bring me a beer?” Mr. Mitchell says as he digs into his food.
“Yes sir, right away.”
“This all looks very delicious, thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell. I appreciate you two having me over for dinner.”
“You’re very welcome.” Mrs. Mitchell says to me, and smiles, and Ashley’s a mute at the end of the table, playing referee I guess, making sure she keeps her father in check in case he gets out of line.
“I could’ve just met you at a shooting range or something, but the wife insisted on having you over for dinner. I need to meet a man before he takes my daughter away from me. James tells me you two had a lot of fun last weekend.” He picks up his fork and starts eating the green beans and Marla brings him the beer.
“Yes, sir. We had a lot of fun. Ashley took me all over the city. It was very beautiful.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I know how you feel. I lost my best friend in high school. His father shot him. Then shot himself. It was about the saddest thing that ever happened to me…” he pauses for a moment “But, then you get a new best friend and you forget the old one ever existed. Simple as that.” Everything he’s saying is a setup, trying to get me to snap. I can tell by the tone of his voice. So I play along.
“Yeah, it was pretty sad. But I’ve already got some new best friend prospects I’m looking at, so all will be well in good time.” I pick at the squash, and I’m still not sure what type of meat it is, and I’m almost afraid to eat it, even given how good it looks.
“Dad, why don’t you tell us about your day today?” Ashley says, talking with food in her mouth.
“Honey, we don’t speak when food is in our mouth, and we certainly don’t talk about other people’s days like they’re our own.” Ashley turns and looks at me.
“He got a speeding ticket today. Going eighty in a sixty five.” Mr. Mitchell slams his hand down on the table.
“Goddammit, I told you to shut your mouth.” I want to protect her, but I know if I take her side, that I lose any leverage, so I remain mute.
“Will you two stop? We have a guest at the table. There’s no need for vulgarity.” Mrs. Mitchell says, like she’s actually surprised.
“Oh, no, Mrs. Mitchell, don’t mind me. I’m not even here.”
“If you weren’t here, I could be eating dinner in front of the television and watching the movie. But by the time we’re done, the movie will be over, and all I’ll get to see is the credits.”
“I’m very sorry about that, sir.” I sound like a robot. A machine. My voice has now gone monotone, and I’m not afraid of him anymore.
“Don’t apologize. Dad usually falls asleep about five minutes into the movie anyway. So it wouldn’t make a difference.” Ashley says, and I look up at her and she gives me the thumbs up, while Mr. Mitchell is grumbling and eating his food with his head down.
“How do you like the duck?” Mrs. Mitchell asks me. “It’s very delicious, thank you. Marla did a great job.”
“I don’t understand why we need two maids at the house. We’re hardly ever here in the first place.” Mr. Mitchell picks up his beer and drinks it, and he drinks about half of the bottle and sets it down.
“There are things around the house that need to be taken care of. If they weren’t here to keep the place alive, it would be terrible coming home every week with that smell of emptiness.”
“Who gives a shit about a smell? Unless it smells like dog shit in this house, I don’t really care. As long as I can breathe.”
“Dad, do you remember when we went on vacation and you said the house smelled lonely? It was that cabin that was never used. I think it belonged to your brother. Do you remember that?” Ashley says, and I’m just sitting there, eating my duck and enjoying the lovely conversation going on around me.
“I don’t recall dear. You must have me mistaken for someone else. Maybe one of your ex-boyfriends? They sure did a lot of smelling. Smelled things right off the table and into their brain.”
“Don’t you think you should go a little slower on the beer, dad? I wouldn’t want you driving off somewhere and killing some innocent girl.” The room drops dead silent. Even the air vents stop blowing, and the only thing that breaks the silence is the sound of Marla whistling in the kitchen and then her walking into the room.
“Are we ready for dessert? I’ve got a dark forest cake ready to eat, if you would like some.”
“Yes, Marla. Thank you. A piece for all of us.” Mr. Mitchell says, and he looks defeated. Like someone just shot him in the heart.
Marla brings us the cake and it’s so sweet I worry that with every bite I take I’m getting closer and closer to losing an arm. There’s no conversation at all while we eat dessert. I look up at Ashley to check and see what she’s doing, and she’s got her nose in the cake, and I look up at Mr. Mitchell and he’s doing the same. Mrs. Mitchell is the only one eating it properly, taking a bite and then wiping her mouth with a napkin every time.
When we’re all done, Marla comes in and takes the plates from us, and I thank her again for the meal, and she doesn’t say anything, but blushes and smiles at me, which sort of says that she’s never thanked for what she does around here. Mrs. Mitchell excuses herself from the table, and tells me that she’s got to go to a meeting at the golf course, but that it was lovely meeting me and for me to have fun in Europe. Which leaves just the three of us.
“I think we should go outside and enjoy the weather. Do you like cigars?” Mr. Mitchell asks me, and I look at Ashley, and she’s got her eyes set on him.
“I’ve never had a cigar, sir. So my opinion is neutral. I’d love to try one if you were offering.”
“That sounds wonderful. Ashley, go wash up and watch TV while we go have a little chat outside.” Her dad walks to the porch and I’m caught in his orbit, and Ashley’s still sitting down, watching us walk out, and I can’t grab her along or hide her in my pocket.
We go through the French doors to the porch, and everything is brick. The porch is brick, the railings are brick, and even the pool is surrounded by brick, and not concrete. It all looks very nice, and very well done, and it must’ve cost him a lot of money to build. But it seems like he doesn’t really care about money all that much. And if he does, he doesn’t show it. He sits down in a patio chair by the pool and I sit down beside him as he pulls two cigars out of his shirt pocket and cuts the ends off.
“So, where are you going in Europe?” He asks, handing me my cigar, but nothing to light it with.
“England, but we're going to the U.K. first. I left that up to Ashley to decide. So wherever she wants to go, I’ll go with her.”
“Why do you want to leave? Is your life here really that bad?” Baiting me again.
“No, sir. I just think a change of scenery would do me well.” I keep the cigar in my hand, and I spin it with my fingers. He’s already set the box of matches down to his right.
“Why not go somewhere in America then? There are plenty of places to go. Fuck, I just went to Montana last week and it was gorgeous. This country has so much to offer, and you just leave it behind because it sounds better to say you’re going to Europe.”
“That’s true. I’ve been to Montana actually, and it’s a very beautiful state. However, it is also a very lonely state. Besides hiking and sightseeing, there’s not much to do there.” I’m getting a little defensive, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Do you have something to protect you in case something happens?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you have a knife or a gun or something in case someone tries to mug you? So you’re not just standing there, handing him your wallet with your dick in your hands.”
“No, I don’t. I’ve never thought about it before.”
“So you’re not afraid of some nigger jumping you on the street and stealing your wallet and slitting your throat?”
“I guess not.” He takes a long puff of his cigar, and it’s only a quarter of the way finished.
“I need to make sure that my daughter isn’t going to get hurt while she’s in Europe. I’ve been to England before. Many times. And I’ve seen cop cars blaring down the streets of London because some dick decided to rob an old woman. I just want you to make sure she’s safe. Can you promise me that?” He looks at me.
“I promise.”
“Okay. I like you, you’re a good kid. James said you were very nice, very polite, and he could tell you liked Ashley a lot. But I’ll tell you right now, if you hurt her, I will fuck you up. Do you understand? I only have one daughter, and although she might not think it, her mother and I love her more than anything in this world.”
“I understand.”
“You have my blessing then, to take her to Europe. She’ll have a credit card on her, and I told her to use it for everything. I want this to be something you two can remember. I’m not sure how well off you are, but I can tell you right now, I’m better off than you are. I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, but that’s one thing I can be sure of. So think of this as my treat to you and Ashley. An early graduation present.” The mask is finally off of Mr. Mitchell, and he’s not an asshole at all.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Mitchell.”
“You can call me Arthur when Ashley isn’t around. I want her to think I gave you a hard time. So if you don’t mind, tell her I yelled at you, and made you feel like shit.” Check on the latter of the two.
“I can do that.”
“Good. Now, hand me that cigar. I’ll smoke it later.”
They call James and he gets there in ten minutes. Ashley asks me how her dad was the second I walk back inside, behind him. I say he gave me a hard time. A lot of cursing. Made me feel worthless. But I got the blessing to take her to Europe, so she runs up and hugs her dad, and her dad kisses her on top of her head, and then she hugs me, but I make sure it’s a short hug. I get in the car and James asks how it was.
“Brutal.”