Taut: The Ford Book
Page 13
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I lie back and put my hand over my eyes to block out the light. “I was, until that smell woke me up.”
“Sorry,” she says quietly. Everything she does seems quiet to me. Slow. “She had a stinky diaper. I took it to the dumpster. That librarian lady said we have to be out by ten and it’s almost nine-thirty. So if it’s OK, I’m going to take a shower.”
I don’t even move my hand from my eyes. “Fine with me.”
“Um, I hate to ask, but… do you mind just keeping an eye on the baby for like five minutes? I promise to be—”
“Absolutely not.” I do take my hand away from my eyes for this, because I want to look her in the eyes. “No,” I repeat, shaking my head. “I do not do babies.”
She shoots me a dirty look, scoops up the baby carrier, and walks into the bathroom.
I do not care how angry she is. I do not do babies and I especially do not do babies belonging to strangers. And, I add to boost my reasoning, she should not want a stranger watching her baby, anyway.
The shower starts a minute later and I can hear her talking to the infant. I get up and get dressed in last night’s tuxedo, leaving off the tie. I button up the shirt without tucking it in and lay my suit coat on the bed. I don’t even have a winter coat because the last thing on my mind when I got dressed for the Chaput party last night was trying to drive the Bronco over the motherfucking Rocky Mountains and ending up stranded in Vail after a blizzard.
I stuff the bow tie into my suit coat pocket and find the little rubber duck I picked up in the tow truck. I set it on the dresser and try and flatten my hair down with some water. It’s bad enough I look like a leftover New Year’s Eve drunk in this f**king suit, but I refuse to look like an unkempt one.
By the time I’m putting on my shoes, the girl comes out dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Her hair is wet but she smells fresh. The baby is still wearing her yellow footied sleeper.
“How old?” I ask the girl as I point to the baby.
The girl ignores me and I suppose she’s upset at my lack of showering assistance.
“I found this toy in the tow truck last night. The driver said it was yours.” I point to the duck and the girl’s face contorts into something strange. An expression of relief. She picks it up tenderly and then smiles as she slips it into the diaper bag on the floor.
OK. Whatever. I gather up my keys and my phone and wait for her to get all her baby crap together. She’s got a bag and the carrier and her purse. I didn’t notice she had all this last night, so maybe she went to her car and got it. I hold the door open for her and she mumbles out a thank you.
“They have breakfast in the hotel office—”
“Yes,” she says immediately, and when I stop to look at her, she’s studying the office door with longing. “I’m so hungry. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”
“Well, Jason won’t be here for another—”
“Yo! Ford!” I turn and Jason is getting out of a tow truck in the garage parking lot. “Long time, dude!”
“Oh,” the girl moans. “He’s already here.”
“Give me your keys, I’ll take care of your car while you eat.” Her whole face changes, like I just promised her a million dollars. I give her a smile in return for that little vote of confidence and offer up one better. “In fact, just stay in the office. It’s too cold for a baby out here anyway. I’ll come get you when it’s sorted.”
“Oh, thank you,” she says shuffling through her purse for her keys. She hands them over and sighs. Her hand rests on my arm. I pull away instinctively, but she’s too busy telling me how hungry she is and how I’m literally saving her life to notice my minor freakout. And then before I can fully come to terms with the fact that she just touched me, she turns and starts walking to the office.
I look down at my suit coat where I can still feel her hand. Then at her keys. The key chain is a military dog tag and says, Proud Marine Wife—Ashleigh and Tony Forever with a little heart stamped on it.
“Hey, what the f**k you doing, dude?” Jason asks from behind me. “You know that girl? Dallas said he picked her up on the freeway, her engine blew going up the mountain or something.”
I turn and take him in. He hasn’t changed since he was fourteen. Same reddish-blond hair, so short it might as well be shaved, same dull gray eyes, and same football build that put him squarely into the jock category at all the childhood functions we were forced into together simply because we were the same age. Not much changes around here. “We shared a room. You only had one left and I had it. She was trying to sleep in her car during the blizzard.”
“That’s a pretty efficient death wish. Well, come on, we gotta dig out your piece of shit before I can check it.”
It’s only then that I notice how much snow fell overnight. At least three feet. The parking lots and roads are mostly cleared though. That’s one thing you can count on in Vail. Plowed streets and lots. Gotta keep the golden roads clear so tourists can ski on the mountain and everyone can make money.
“Where’s your coat, Ford?”
I look down at myself and shake my head. “I didn’t bring one. I had no plans on stopping here, believe me. I was on my f**king way to LA.”
He laughs. “Well, you two dumbasses make the perfect pair then, right?”
“Ha ha, yeah, you’re funny. It’s the transmission, by the way,” I tell him as we walk up to the Bronco. Another kid comes out of the garage with a snow blower and walks up to us.
“Sorry,” she says quietly. Everything she does seems quiet to me. Slow. “She had a stinky diaper. I took it to the dumpster. That librarian lady said we have to be out by ten and it’s almost nine-thirty. So if it’s OK, I’m going to take a shower.”
I don’t even move my hand from my eyes. “Fine with me.”
“Um, I hate to ask, but… do you mind just keeping an eye on the baby for like five minutes? I promise to be—”
“Absolutely not.” I do take my hand away from my eyes for this, because I want to look her in the eyes. “No,” I repeat, shaking my head. “I do not do babies.”
She shoots me a dirty look, scoops up the baby carrier, and walks into the bathroom.
I do not care how angry she is. I do not do babies and I especially do not do babies belonging to strangers. And, I add to boost my reasoning, she should not want a stranger watching her baby, anyway.
The shower starts a minute later and I can hear her talking to the infant. I get up and get dressed in last night’s tuxedo, leaving off the tie. I button up the shirt without tucking it in and lay my suit coat on the bed. I don’t even have a winter coat because the last thing on my mind when I got dressed for the Chaput party last night was trying to drive the Bronco over the motherfucking Rocky Mountains and ending up stranded in Vail after a blizzard.
I stuff the bow tie into my suit coat pocket and find the little rubber duck I picked up in the tow truck. I set it on the dresser and try and flatten my hair down with some water. It’s bad enough I look like a leftover New Year’s Eve drunk in this f**king suit, but I refuse to look like an unkempt one.
By the time I’m putting on my shoes, the girl comes out dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Her hair is wet but she smells fresh. The baby is still wearing her yellow footied sleeper.
“How old?” I ask the girl as I point to the baby.
The girl ignores me and I suppose she’s upset at my lack of showering assistance.
“I found this toy in the tow truck last night. The driver said it was yours.” I point to the duck and the girl’s face contorts into something strange. An expression of relief. She picks it up tenderly and then smiles as she slips it into the diaper bag on the floor.
OK. Whatever. I gather up my keys and my phone and wait for her to get all her baby crap together. She’s got a bag and the carrier and her purse. I didn’t notice she had all this last night, so maybe she went to her car and got it. I hold the door open for her and she mumbles out a thank you.
“They have breakfast in the hotel office—”
“Yes,” she says immediately, and when I stop to look at her, she’s studying the office door with longing. “I’m so hungry. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”
“Well, Jason won’t be here for another—”
“Yo! Ford!” I turn and Jason is getting out of a tow truck in the garage parking lot. “Long time, dude!”
“Oh,” the girl moans. “He’s already here.”
“Give me your keys, I’ll take care of your car while you eat.” Her whole face changes, like I just promised her a million dollars. I give her a smile in return for that little vote of confidence and offer up one better. “In fact, just stay in the office. It’s too cold for a baby out here anyway. I’ll come get you when it’s sorted.”
“Oh, thank you,” she says shuffling through her purse for her keys. She hands them over and sighs. Her hand rests on my arm. I pull away instinctively, but she’s too busy telling me how hungry she is and how I’m literally saving her life to notice my minor freakout. And then before I can fully come to terms with the fact that she just touched me, she turns and starts walking to the office.
I look down at my suit coat where I can still feel her hand. Then at her keys. The key chain is a military dog tag and says, Proud Marine Wife—Ashleigh and Tony Forever with a little heart stamped on it.
“Hey, what the f**k you doing, dude?” Jason asks from behind me. “You know that girl? Dallas said he picked her up on the freeway, her engine blew going up the mountain or something.”
I turn and take him in. He hasn’t changed since he was fourteen. Same reddish-blond hair, so short it might as well be shaved, same dull gray eyes, and same football build that put him squarely into the jock category at all the childhood functions we were forced into together simply because we were the same age. Not much changes around here. “We shared a room. You only had one left and I had it. She was trying to sleep in her car during the blizzard.”
“That’s a pretty efficient death wish. Well, come on, we gotta dig out your piece of shit before I can check it.”
It’s only then that I notice how much snow fell overnight. At least three feet. The parking lots and roads are mostly cleared though. That’s one thing you can count on in Vail. Plowed streets and lots. Gotta keep the golden roads clear so tourists can ski on the mountain and everyone can make money.
“Where’s your coat, Ford?”
I look down at myself and shake my head. “I didn’t bring one. I had no plans on stopping here, believe me. I was on my f**king way to LA.”
He laughs. “Well, you two dumbasses make the perfect pair then, right?”
“Ha ha, yeah, you’re funny. It’s the transmission, by the way,” I tell him as we walk up to the Bronco. Another kid comes out of the garage with a snow blower and walks up to us.
