Taut: The Ford Book

“Oh, Ford here is a colorful fellow—”

“I have no criminal record, Ashleigh. Jason, thanks for taking care of the Bronco and here’s the keys to the rental. Call them for me and tell them to pick it up.” I grab the receipt and turn Ashleigh around. “Let’s go.” I have to push her to get her started but once her feet are moving she skips a little to keep up with my long strides across the parking lot.

“Ford?”

I ignore her, just unlock the Bronco and then go around to the van to grab the baby seat.

“Ford, wait.”

The seatbelt clicks as I release it and pull the seat out, push past her and stick the seat in the back of the Bronco. “I have seatbelts back here, I know I do. I just need to find them.” My hand sweeps under the back cushion searching and I find the webbed strap and pull it out, then go looking for the lock. “OK, I’m not sure how to buckle that seat in, so you do that and I’ll get the stroller and stuff.” I push her out of my way, not roughly, just move her aside, and go back to the van to get the rest of the stuff. When I look back she’s just standing there by the open door.

“What?”

She’s got that look on her face. The look pretty much everyone gets after they realize I’m either a genuine freak or a psychotic criminal.

“What?” I ask again, because she’s just staring at me.

“OK. I’ll wait you out on this one, but I’m not done.” And then the look is gone and she turns back to the baby seat and gets busy.

I grab the stroller first and put it in the cargo area of the Bronco, then go back for the bags. She’s using grocery bags again. This time she’s got a bunch of my clothes in the bags with her meager wardrobe.

“I packed for you since you never bothered.”

I look at her and she’s got her hands out, asking for me to load her up with bags. “It’s not a long drive to LA, I’ll buy what I need. And I figured you were stealing my t-shirts.”

“I am,” she says with a smile and I relax a little. She’s not gonna push it and I’m grateful. I’m feeling the need to get the f**k out of Vail all of a sudden. I hand her a couple bags and I grab the rest. “Can we stop and get some snacks and stuff?”

“Yeah, but not here. We’ll stop in Grand Junction.” I look over at her and smile as she packs the truck. “They have your favorite store there.” She flashes me a funny look over her shoulder. “Wal-Mart.”

She laughs. “Have you ever been in a Wal-Mart, Ford?”

“I have people shop for me.”

“We shopped yesterday.”

“I made an exception. I figured you needed stuff but you decided to be a cheap date.”

I close up the back of the Bronco and Ashleigh keeps the diaper bag with her and gets in the passenger side. Front seat this time, so I figure she’s over her tantrum from this morning.

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, slamming her door.

I close mine as well and start up the Bronco. She rumbles alive and I smile. “Fuck, I missed you, baby.” I look over at Ash because I know she’s waiting for me to say something. “What?” I play dumb.

“I’m done with your games. I’m not playing anymore. I can’t do it. You win. So let’s just be friendly until we get to LA and I swear, I’ll pay you back for all your help.”

I back out of the space, honk at Jason who’s waving from the door as he talks to some guy who just pulled up, and we are off. “I don’t want your money,” I reply to her statement once we’re on I-70 heading west. “I’m f**king rich. I have way more than I need.”

“Your loss, then.” And then she settles into her seat and stares out the window and stays silent.

We drive past the rest of the village and a few miles later I see the turn-off for Minturn. “That’s where my dad is buried,” I say as I nod my head to the road sign for Highway 24.

“Oh, really? I bet it’s beautiful. There are definitely worse places to be laid to rest.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been up there to see it.”

“What?” She looks over at me with an incredulous look. “You need to go now.”

“Yeah, right,” I laugh.

“You’re a few miles away, how often do you come up here?”

“Never anymore. I wouldn’t be here now if the f**king truck hadn’t broken down. Or if I’d stayed put in Denver on New Year’s Eve and flown out to LA the next day like I planned.” I blow past the exit for Minturn and Ashleigh physically turns around in her seat to watch it disappear.

“Go back.”

“No, I’m not going back. Just turn around.”

“Go back, Ford. I’m not kidding.”

“Why do you care, anyway?”

“Because it’s a cowardly move, that’s why. I’ve lost all respect for you.”

I grunt. “As if you had any.”

“Actually,” she says, glaring over at me, “I respect you quite a bit. You’re not a creep, you seem to be honest, and even though you might be some famous criminal in these parts, I trust you. And I’m telling you, if you don’t go see that grave and get over this thing with your dad, then you’re a coward. You’re running away from this too. Just add the cemetery to your list of things to avoid along with those friends of yours back in Denver.” I stay silent and she huffs out some air. “Coward,” she repeats, crossing her arms across her chest as she crosses her legs. A gesture that practically screams I’m done with you.