I think I forgot to live it though.
A knock on the open doorframe alerts me to Ashlyn, my father’s final wife. He died when she was just a few months pregnant with my youngest sister, Madeline. The two of them still live here with Hudson and me. “Hey, Ash.”
“What’s up, Max?” Ashlyn was shy when Dad brought her home. None of us really understood what was between the two of them. He’d lost Jace and Lenny’s mom a few years before that, and she was the love of his life. Not my mom or Sawyer and Hudson’s mom. No one compared to Kristen. But then, one day, he brought home this Olympic figure skater, who was younger than everyone, except Jace and Lenny, and they told us they were married.
We were shocked. But not as shocked as we were a few months later when he had a heart attack in bed with a model, while Ashlyn was home, pregnant with Madeline.
“I wanted to talk to you about the house.”
Ashlyn sits delicately down in the chair across from the desk and eyes my drink. “You’ve been drinking more lately, Maximus.” Even Ashlyn likes to bust my balls now.
“You’re not my mother, Ashlyn.”
She reaches forward, takes the tumbler from me and takes a sip, then hands it back. “And thank fucking God for that, Max. Just a friend noticing something. I’m a good listener if you need one was all I meant.”
I suddenly feel bad for my response.
I suppose Ashlyn has opened up more over the past year or two. I still don’t understand the relationship she had with my dad, but it doesn’t matter now. I never considered her a stepmom the way I did the others, but I’d call her a friend.
“Listen, I wanted to let you know that I’m moving out. I looked at places today. I haven’t found anything yet, but I’m hoping to soon.” I swallow the last of the whiskey and listen to the clink of the ice cubes before meeting her gaze. “We’re not selling this house though. This is your home as much as it’s anyone’s. You and Madeline belong here.”
With an almost imperceptible nod of her head, Ashlyn studies me for a long, uncomfortable moment. My siblings and I have always been loud and outgoing. Some might say too loud. But in a family as big as ours, you had to fight to be heard.
Ashlyn has always been at the opposite end of the spectrum.
Quiet.
Introspective.
She gracefully stands and purses her lips before speaking. “If you’re feeling crowded or antsy in this house, Madeline and I can move out.”
“No. This is your home. It’s her home. It’s where she should grow up. I’m not crowded, Ashlyn. I’m tired of living in the shadow of a ghost. I had my own life before Dad died, and it’s about time I get that back. I got comfortable, filling in for him. It’s time to be more than John Kingston’s son.” Long past time.
“Don’t make change for the sake of change, Max. Do it because you want to. Because it’s the right move. Don’t do it because it’s what you think you’re supposed to do.”
It’s my turn to return her stoic nod as she leaves the room.
Why does everyone in this family think they have the right to tell me what to do with my life? And why does what she just said completely unnerve me?