Page 118 of For Better or Hearse
“I’ll take weird, quirky and hilarious over rude, pretentious and self-absorbed any day.” With each word Ash lets out, it’s like a pressure releasing from her chest. Her heart. “If my presence is hard for you, then you’re a bona fide piece of shit. Live with that or choose to be a better person.”
Gasps from Claire and Tate. Delaney has her napkin pressed to her face, hiding the permanent scream that is her mouth.
Ash keeps going. She can’t stop.
“All your offspring want is a speck of your attention. That’s like a pebble in the sea. And you’re so focused on tits and asses and your own Machiavellian dreams and schemes that you don’t see it.This isn’t the Thunderdome, Don. It doesn’t matter who fucking wins. It’s a family.Yourfamily.”
Expression caught between outrage and embarrassment, Don opens his mouth. Probably to bluster.
Ash won’t let him. Lurching in her chair, she points at Nathaniel. “This ishislife. His.” Her finger swivels to Delaney and Tate. “Their lives. They only get one. They shouldn’t live to please you. If you don’t get that, that’s your loss. But you’re missing out. Because Tate has an amazing podcast about potatoes. Delaney is killing it—well, getting killed. And Nathaniel…well…Nathaniel is someone to be proud of.” Her voice cracks. “So, so proud of. Do you know he put his own life at risk to save his entire crew? He could have died, but he did that. And then he stayed, knowing it could happen again.”
Don’s eyes slowly flick from her face to Nathaniel’s.
Her panting breath shakes from her frame. Leading to a knockout blow.
“And you don’t know that because you’re too pissed off about them not living up to your hustle-culture standards. Which is just so weird. You can be proud of your children for living their lives and being successful without all the weird judgmental bullshit.”
Delaney and Tater glance at each other, wide-eyed.
Don doesn’t respond. His jaw is so unhinged it’s on the table.
Nathaniel stares at her in stunned silence, his expression indecipherable.
Her gaze settles on Augustus. “Please do not fire me. Even though I really need this job, I adore you and will be heartbroken.” Looking around the table, she says, “Claire, you are too sweet for this insufferable man. Tater, always stay stupid. You are the himbo of my platonic dreams. And Delaney, you get murdered all you want. I heartily support the bloodlust.”
Augustus wears a bright smile, glass of wine held loose in his hand. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, my dear.”
Ash inhales. Everything inside her feels wobbly. “And now…I will show myself out.”
When she rockets up, Nathaniel wears a strange, stricken look on his face. He grasps desperately for her hand. “Ash—”
“I’m okay,” she tells him. “I need a minute.”
She takes two steps from the table, rips around, finds Nathaniel’s sister. “Get your tarot.”
Delaney springs out of her seat, nearly falling in the process.
“You mean it?” The joy blazing across her face carves out Ash’s soul.
“Fuck yes.” Ash grabs a bottle of red wine. “We’re taking this.” She looks around the shell-shocked table. “And we’re going to go see the fucking future.”
Nathaniel stares up at her with an expression of worry and amusement.
She drags her fingertips across his warm palm, touched by his concern, and then she walks out of the restaurant.
What the hell did she just do?
Whatever it was, it felt really goddamn good.
“Holy shit,” Delaney crows as they walk down to the beach. “Did you see Don’s face? He was fighting for his life at that table.”
Ash’s mouth pulls up into a smirk. “Humbling a stranger in public has been on my bucket list for years.”
“You didn’t even take a slow spiral down. You took a leap off a cliff. I love it!”
Delaney passes her the bottle of wine. Ash takes a swig, passes it back.
She doesn’t even feel embarrassed. All she feels is purged.