Any Way Out - 11. Change of Scenery

“Sorry, what?”

Ashlee started at the abrupt, inscrutable declaration, and peered at Felicity through a sudden sandy gust. She stood stiff and tall like piling in the shore, eyes set beyond the horizon. Feet planted lest she topple over with a step, she twisted to the other Davises. Yaidali was fifty yards away already, dodging waves as she washed off the shells she was collecting. Marisol was clearly annoyed, suffering her husband’s demands out of marital obligation, if just barely. At her side, Rick was on the edge of his metaphorical seat, nodding to urge Ashlee on. Swiveling back to Felicity, Ashlee struggled to comprehend the object of the outlandish family game she’d walked into.

“Oh, so this is Robert?” It was a clumsy opening gambit, but it seemed to do the job. Felicity closed her eyes and nodded, lashes glistening with pinheads of moisture.

Ashlee groped forward. “I guess this is the place, huh? The funeral?”

Right again, indicated Felicity with a repeat of her previous gesture.

If this were a TV show, Ashlee would have switched it off and gone to bed; a book, she’d have chucked it into the recycling. In real life, she didn’t know what to do. She was a lawyer, not a psychiatrist, and even so, thinking on her feet had never been a strong suit. The best Ashlee could do was be firmly noncommittal until the answer presented itself.

“Well, what now?” she asked.

The voice emanated again from Felicity: “I don’t know, actually. Felicity says she’s almost made it. Found a girl to love her for who she is. She might be starting to get somewhere in her life. She’s just feeling pissed off about her place in the relationship, and now you want to bring me back. She feels like you want a woman to boss around a man to have a baby with. Then there’s the whole thing with your mom. She’s not sure what’s going on there.”

Ashlee, through a gut-piercing vortex of regret, anger, and fear replied, “We had to drive all the way to Chincoteague for you to tell me that?”

The voice coming out of Felicity broke, as the affected bass timbre started to wilt. “Um, that wasn’t really part of the plan, but I’m glad we’re all here. Mom and Dad really like you. Yaidali is jealous as hell. So, it’s been a success after all.”

I had to miss at least a day of work for it, Ashlee grumbled inside, but decided the time wasn’t right to let it out. “Yeah, your parents are pretty cool. I’m glad we came, too.”

Chilly waves washed their bare feet, and the soupy sand sucked their soles, but neither moved as Ashlee’s cognitive cogs spun to new positions. In a flash, a revelation blazed, lighting Ashlee’s mind like a newborn sun

“This is going to sound cheesy,” began Ashlee as she attempted to give voice to the epiphany, “but I think making a baby was all about pleasing my mother. I didn’t think she would accept us without a grandchild. But I don’t need her anymore because I’ve got you. She can take us or leave us.”

In that instant, Felicity was back. The cheery gleam returned to her hazel eyes as she turned to Ashlee. “Do you mean … you’ll tell her?”

The plan sprang, fully formed, into Ashlee’s brain. “Yes, soon. But you have to trust me.” Now who’s spontaneous? thought Ashlee. “I’m sorry for everything, can you -- and Robert -- forgive me?”

“Oh, forget about that,” said Felicity, waving away the thought. ”That's done with. As soon as I started doing it just now, I realized it was dumb and I didn't need it anymore. Because of you, I never have to doubt myself again. I’m glad I got it all out, though. Seriously, though, can you put away the baby talk?”

Ashlee nodded. Felicity pulled her feet out of the sand and stepped up to embrace and kiss her. As they lingered, Ashlee caught a glimpse of a dewy-eyed Marisol leaning her head on Rick’s shoulder.

***

“So yeah, thanks Josh. I'll see you on Monday. No seriously, it's fine, I have everything I need at the apartment. I just don't want to get everyone else sick.I'll have PDFs you can print tomorrow for Mr. Hahn. Bye. “

Ashlee checked her watch. Nearly half past eight. Felicity and Rick were out, probably getting wasted to make up for missing her twenty-first birthday. Yaidali had been locked in her room for hours, and Marisol was puttering around somewhere in the house. Ashlee had the kitchen table to herself, which was now strewn with the contents of the mailing crate from home, in an arc around her laptop.

Ashlee confirmed her color indexed list against the matching tabbed piles. She had exactly three hours’ work. She was already showered and in some orange pony pajamas from a souvenir shop, ready for seven hours’ sleep starting at midnight, ensuring rest for the plan she’d hatched on the beach, which commenced at eight. She even had Tylenol and Gatorade standing by to feed Felicity when she returned from carousing.

BZZZZZZZZZ! whirred the phone. Ashlee read: Sarah Dawes.

“Hey, Sarah.”

Tones of reproach, inquisition, and conspiracy fought for preeminence in the voice that streamed into Ashlee’s ear: “What’s going on? Why is Felicity all sparkle hearts and rainbows and shit on the group chat? Are you really sick? Where are you actually?”

The guilt of the sudden vacation gripped Ashlee. “Can I keep that a secret tillI come back to work?” she tried.

“Ashlee, it’s me.”

“Your point?”

“Girl, spill it before I make something up!”

Ashlee dropped the secrecy. “Fine, fine. I’m in Chincoteague. I’m at Felicity’s parents’ house. We’re leaving in the morning, but I won’t be back at work till Monday. I should be back in town Friday night.”

“Oh my God, Jeff, she’s ditching work for a girl. Did I dial the wrong number? That’s really romantic. Would you do that for me, Jeff?”

A masculine mumble emerged from the background, calculated, it seemed, for Sarah’s disillusionment. She gave a little pout and relayed, “Jeff says you’re malingering. He’s over tonight. Say hi, Jeff.”

The distant greeting trickled through.

“So, tell me everything!” Sarah demanded.

“Sarah, I have a lot of work to do, and it’s between me and Felicity. Maybe later.”

“Oooohhh, please!” whined Sarah. Another baritone murmur came over the phone. Sarah sighed. “Jeff says my time is up. He’s helping me get ready for work tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah, how is that going?”

“Uyen won’t stay off my ass. She gave me homework. SMART goals and shit. I hate it. I thought SMART goals were for people who were too dumb to run their lives, but I have to keep it up for three weeks or Blake will know about it, and she has to sign off on my mentoring. Uyen says she was kind of glad that you … oh, never mind.”

Ashlee laughed at herself. “... that I wasn’t there to screw everything up for her?”

“You’re the wrong kind of bossy bitch for the situation. Her words, not mine.” After a deep mumble from the background, she added, “Sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have.”

“No, she’s right, I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” conceded Ashlee. You be good, Sarah, I’ll see you soon.”

Before she could return to her work, Marisol entered the kitchen, pajamaed as well. Though a head shorter than Felicity, Marisol shared the same thin face, long nose, dark skin and wavy black hair of her two children. Worn by the advent of middle age, Marisol still carried the glamour of comfort and confidence that Ashlee envied in older women, even in her own mother.

“You want some tea, Ashlee?” asked Marisol. “I’m making some.”

Ashlee nodded in assent and braced for more conversation, but Marisol let her continue with her work. She became absorbed, and almost didn’t notice a steaming mug, and a firm but polite hand on her shoulder.

“You work hard. I like that.” Marisol told her. “You’re going to be good for him -- I mean, her, Felicity.”

Ashlee looked up, taken aback. Marisol looked embarrassed for a moment, then smiled back. “I don’t always understand what’s going on, but I love my kids, and I’ve learned that I don’t have to understand for something to be true. I’m glad it's you, mija.”

Ashlee reddened as Marisol placed a matronly kiss on her cheek. Then she suddenly remembered: “Mrs. Davis -- Marisol -- can you help me with something?”

***

Felicity had stumbled in with Dad a little after eleven. Before she collapsed into her little childhood bed -- Ashlee would be on the couch downstairs -- she remembered Ashlee forcing some kind of fruity sports drink and headache medicine on her. Something about her needing Felicity awake at seven.

It was seven now. Ashlee had just rolled in from the gas station, and was in an obvious twitter to put whatever scheme Felicity was supposed to be trusting into action. Estrella had come earlier, and was in the kitchen helping Mom sling a little breakfast. Dad was looking pretty much the worse for wear. Mom always let him suffer his own consequences. Still, he carried on through an obvious fog, making plans with a couple of maintenance foremen over very sweet coffee. Yaidali had kept mainly to herself, buried in her phone and earbuds, but on her way out to the school bus, she had looked to see that no one was watching before setting down her saxophone case to hug Felicity.

Once Ashlee and Felicity were disentangled from a web of hugs, kisses and handshakes, the two were packed into Ashlee’s car, which was still loaded with Felicity’s belongings from two nights ago. Felicity cringed at it, and hoped that bit of drama was behind them.

“Tell me how to get back to Highway 13 from here.” requested Ashlee.

“Where’s your phone? Do you want the GPS?” wondered Felicity.

“Not using it,” replied Ashlee. “Just trust me.”

Felicity guided Ashlee through the resort’s downtown onto the causeway. She was catching up on the group chat, and almost missed Ashlee taking a left onto 13.

“No, we need to turn right! Aren’t we going home?”

Ashlee only repeated, “Trust me, okay?”

The next hour or so was spent in relative silence, cruising over the pancake-flat Eastern Shore, south toward the Chesapeake crossing at Virginia Beach, rather than north to Annapolis. Felicity was excited and a little turned on at this mystery, and reached over to stroke Ashlee’s thigh. Ashlee clasped Felicity’s hand, lifted it for a kiss, then kept it in her lap till the bridge.

The Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, Felicity knew, was twenty miles of bridges, causeways, and tunnels across the mouth of the bay. It consisted primarily of low concrete spans a mere twenty feet above shallow water, except where tunnels plunged into the two sixty-foot channels: a northern one used by ships headed for Baltimore, and a southern one leading to Norfolk. She hadn’t come down this way as often as she went to Maryland, but she knew where she wanted to stop.

“Let’s go to the gift shop on the pier at the second tunnel,” said Felicity.

Two coffees and a “Virginia is for Lovers” bumper sticker later, the two were on the fishing pier, sun at their backs, staring into the distance. Like yesterday, visibility was unlimited. Tiny sails dotted the glassy bay, and the vast scale of the water made crawling toys of ships Felicity knew to be hundreds of feet long running over twenty miles per hour. They both leaned on the rail, mesmerized at the unusually busy queue of ships transiting the channel.

“That one?” asked Ashlee, pointing at a brightly colored hulk sporting four massive, sparkling white bulbs atop its deck.

Too easy. “Liquified natural gas,” replied Felicity.

“And that white one? Is that a Navy ship?”

“Orange stripe means Coast Guard. It’s a medium endurance cutter,” supplied Felicity, hoping she was getting the details right. “The gray one behind it …'' tall, blocky forecastle; long, low deck to the stern, “… that’s a Navy dock landing ship.” She pointed to where her practiced eyes picked out the red and green buoys just up the coast. “You can kind of see Little Creek Amphibious Base from here. That’s where they come from.”

Ashlee sidled close and wrapped an arm around Felicity. “This is cool, but we have to get going.” Felicity looked down to question again, but Ashlee only glanced back with eyes full of mischief.

By this time, about ten in the morning, the traffic around Virginia Beach and Norfolk had subsided, and their passage through the next set of bridges and tunnels was unhindered. The bright green leaves on the May trees sped by on the highway, before giving way to Richmond, where the road wound through the city’s spires. Soon enough though, Richmond was behind them, and they were weaving through the rolling folded landscape that presaged the mountains ahead. Felicity was still in the dark; they had passed up Richmond, and missed the last turn to Washington miles back.

“This is where you and Sarah went to college, right?” Felicity asked after as the road skirted a ridge overlooking Charlottesville.

“Yeah, bachelor’s in political science for me; business administration for Sarah.” confirmed Ashlee, as she exited the highway.

“Are we visiting somewhere here?”

“Nah, we need gas. I’ll get lunch and coffee quick, too. We have a couple of hours to go.”

They were back on the road half an hour later, climbing into the stunning Blue Ridge, then south into the rifts of the Shenandoah Valley. Hundreds of trucks thundered around them in the narrow spaces between the green hillsides, sheer rock walls, and cattle farms. Felicity finally succumbed to sleep, but was shaken out of a dreamless slumber by Ashlee navigating a suburban sprawl, faceless but for the mountains towering above.

Through a yawn, Felicity inquired, “Are we there yet?”

Ashlee shook her head, eyes fixed on the swirling traffic. “No. Almost.”

“Uh, where are we?”

“Roanoke.”

It couldn’t be! Ashlee’s engine whined as they climbed a hillside cradling a subdivision of stately middle class mansions. Felicity vibrated with anticipation as Ashlee picked her way with ease through the maze of streets and switchbacks. They finally alighted in the driveway of a comparatively modest home. Parking by a no-nonsense Subaru station wagon, Ashlee turned off the car, and against the backdrop of creaks from the cooling engine, wept into her hands.

“Is this it?” whispered Felicity.

Ashlee nodded, still sobbing.

Felicity lifted Ashlee’s face to hers. “If you’re ready for this, I am. I love you more than ever now.”

Mountain breezes tempered the afternoon heat. Ashlee and Felicity approached the door, but their knock was arrested by the appearance of a blurry figure beyond the panes of glass. The door opened, and Felicity was sure she was seeing the Ghost of Ashlee Future: a vision of her lover in cold gray. Felicity could tell Ashlee was fighting to overcome the stern inquisitive stare that the woman at the door was dividing between them, but at last, the words came.

“M-Mom, This is Felicity Davis. We’re -- we’re in love.”

***

Ashlee picked at her hair in the mirror of the hotel bathroom. She had left her old bob on the floor of a Great Clips not half an hour ago. Her ears and neck felt cold and vulnerable. She couldn’t get over the brushy feeling when she reached back to run her fingers over her occipital; when Felicity had touched it, Ashlee had almost lost control. Now she was considering how fast she could shove Felicity onto the room’s queen bed and ravish the girl when she came up from parking the car.

Her ardor had regrettably eased by the time the door finally opened and Felicity announced herself: “I got you plain dark Dove bars from the gas station next door, and they had some of the K-Cups you like.” Ashlee was still fixated on the boy-cut in the mirror, so she only heard the rustling clump landing on the desk. “Here’s your box, but do you want to go out to dinner or something before you get started?”

“Can we just stay in? I don’t want to run into anybody.” She loved her new hair, but Ashlee didn’t particularly feel like hearing about it from anyone else, especially if it meant talking about how different she looked from Cathy now. For all she knew, Mom’s network of spies were prowling the streets of Roanoke on the lookout for her.

Ashlee looked up at Felicity’s approaching reflection, and watched the woman’s arms wrap around her waist, just nudging her breasts upward. “Too much vanity is bad for you,” scolded Felicity. “You’re going to fall into that mirror, and I’ll never find you again.”

Ashlee reached across to stroke Felicity’s left arm with her right hand. Felicity kissed the back of Ashlee’s new-shorn head, and whispered, “I’m still really proud of you. You were so brave. She loves you and you’ll make up with her.” Ashlee silently agreed, but it was hard to think clearly through the resurgent passion coursing through her body.

“I’m going to get you a choker, with a little amethyst for your birthstone,” rambled Felicity. “I can’t get enough of how sexy your neck is now.”

Jewelry! Ashlee’s head cleared just enough to ask what was on her mind. “Felicity,” Ashlee began, swiveling in the embrace to face the taller woman, “we set boundaries and I told mom. How about it?”

“What do you mean?”

Ashlee wrenched herself free and crossed the room to where her crate waited. From its lowest strata she produced a tiny battered felt box. Felicity’s jaw dropped and her eyes nearly fell like twin stars from their spheres. “Is that …?” she marveled.

“Big Nana Davis,” confirmed Ashlee. She flipped the lid open, and the room’s low light caught the century-old stone. “Your mom says you might have to share with Yaidali; she wasn’t planning on giving away two daughters when they divided up the estates.”

“Ashlee,” breathed Felicity, “if you’re going to make me the happiest girl in the world, you have to do it right.”

Felicity bent over to present her left hand as Ashlee took a knee before her.

“Felicity, will you marry me?”

Felicity squealed assent and stamped her feet in glee. Ashlee first tried the quivering ring finger, but settled on squeezing the band onto the end of Felicity’s left pinky. The formality concluded, Felicity lifted Ashlee bodily from the floor, pressing their lips together as her feet dangled. Felicity scooped up Ashlee’s butt and carried her the two steps to the bed, where they collapsed and gave themselves to each other.

***

Epilogue

“Here ya go hon, try this size zero out for me”

Uyen took the purple dress from the smiling saleswoman and dubiously held it up to herself.

The lady smiled sympathetically. “Don’t worry, we can always take it in for you,” she reassured Uyen.

Any smaller and I might as well head for the flower girl section, Uyen thought. “Thanks,” she said, and tracked down Sarah, who was already en route to the fitting rooms. When she caught up with her, Sarah was hanging from one of Jeff’s arms, while his other arm carried the adult size dress that had been handed to her. They had stopped to allow a plump, pale redhead, showing off her freckles in a low cut chartreuse gown, to fawn over Sarah’s beau.

“It’s so awesome that you’re helping her shop, and she’s just the maid of honor,” the other girl was saying. “You’re really getting him whipped into shape.” Uyen knew Jeff too well by this point to think that the “Aww, shucks” expression he answered with was genuine. Jeff was undergoing a sort of stress test. This was his third bridal shop today. Sarah had been practically beating back the horny bridesmaids, and was thrilled to pieces about it, taking immense proprietary pride in the long-suffering Jeff, who was gamely riding out the experience.

Sarah got rid of the redhead as Uyen walked up and held the prospective dress up in disbelief. Uyen complained, “Sarah, the instructions just say purple, not purple and slutty.”

“It’s a wedding, Uyen. Ya gotta let the people know you came to play,” chided Sarah. “Come on, I’ve got a good feeling about this one. Jeff, are you sure you don’t want to come in and play ‘Tailor’?”

“Uh, no, I’ll wait out here, thanks anyway,” he said, taking a little bench in a corner.

The air conditioning in the bridal shop was set to “witch’s tit in a brass bra”, and a few minutes later Uyen was shivering in a sleeveless, strapless, nearly dress-less cocktail dress. There was barely enough of her for the thing to cling onto, and she secured the bust to her skin with a nervous hand. Sarah’s door clicked open, and she strutted out, adjusting the edges of the garment to settle her curves in. She filled it like she was born to wear it. Uyen thought her own looked like a paper bag around a straw.

“I look like a shrimp in this, Sarah,” Uyen protested.

“You just give it to those ladies up front, Uyen. They’ll find your figure in there somewhere. Boys will be lining up to peel and eat you. Don’t you agree, Jeff?”

“That feels like a trap,” Jeff retorted.

“What boys are you talking about?” replied Uyen.

Another fitting room spoke: “Felicity’s bringing in a couple guys from her high school who just started med school at Johns Hopkins. They’re going to be doctors, Uyen. And some of my hot cousins from Mom’s side are coming up from Guatemala. They really know how to party.” The door swung open, revealing the dark, voluptuous frame of Yaidali Davis. Jeff hunched over and stared at his shoes. He put Uyen in mind of the Temptations of Saint Anthony the Great, and the hermit’s trials at the hands of demons in the guise of young women.

Felicity’s little sister was absolutely giddy over the shopping weekend in Washington and the parade of dresses and shoes she was trying on. Now, Yaidali squealed and ran her hands over the places where the short skirt hugged her body. “OMG, Sarah! I love this! Do not let Mom know until it’s too late, okay? Which shoes are we wearing?”

“I liked those high-heel lace-up sandals from the last place,” said Sarah. “If we can’t get a color to match the dresses, we’ll go with ivory.” yaidali burbled with approval while, Uyen’s feet started aching in anticipation. “Let me worry about Marisol. I have Maid-of-Honor privileges here.”

"Thank you so much, Sarah! Can we gold sandals, maybe? It would go with the purple and we'd look like goddesses!"

Sarah laughed. "I like the way you think, kid!"

Uyen thought Mrs. Davis had seemed like a pretty tough cookie when she’d dropped Yaidali off with her in Annapolis. She doubted whether Sarah could get away with dressing up her barely-eighteen-year-old daughter like a streetwalker. Then again, Sarah had a long-practiced penchant for getting away with stuff.

Even with Sarah’s Bridezilla-by-Proxy syndrome, it was going to be a great day. Ashlee deserved it, and Felicity was the perfect girl for her. Uyen’s little contribution, besides showing up in a slinky violet dress, had been to facilitate Ashlee’s unexpected wish for a preacher-led wedding; her own priest had quietly directed her to a Lutheran minister who would be willing to do the job. The only sad part was that Ashlee’s side would be mainly college friends. The amethyst-inked invitations to the Vance house had gone unheeded.

Ashlee didn’t seem to mind that much; she was too head-over-heels with Felicity to notice, and the Davises had enough love for all of them. Uyen glumly reflected that whereas she was used to being the wise old soul of their little circle, the others had all grown up around her. Ashlee and Felicity had each other, and not only did Sarah have Jeff, but at work Sarah’s savant-level intellect had finally, under Uyen’s tutelage, been wedded to daunting ambition, and Sarah was even starting to surpass her. Maybe Uyen should take Yaidali up on her offer of a hot Guatemalan cousin; at least he’d be Catholic, right?

Sarah forced her way into Jeff’s lap. “Eyes up here, buddy.” She kissed him on the lips. “You’re wearing your brown Army uniform, right? Corsage, too?” Jeff nodded. “We are going to look amazing,” she purred. “I’m going to fight to get that bouquet for us.” Yaidali gasped with a hand over her mouth, and bounced on her beautiful brown toes; Uyen blushed for Jeff. Sarah sneered at her fingers. “Those other girls are going to be lucky I don’t have nails.”

Sarah stood again. “Girls, I think we have a winner,” she declared. “Let’s get these tailored. We have a wedding in two weeks!”

END OF PART TWO