FicWad

The next week passed in ambiguous simplicity. After that night Tré and Abbey had had no unnecessary contact but continued to gravitate toward each other whenever they were near one another. They had developed a bit of a routine; He’d drop her off at Adeline Records at 7:45 A.M. every day, she’d bust her hump for Adrienne, Sofia would use Abbey as her private test subject and at 5 P.M. sharp, she would meet him out front, looking like a new woman, thanks to the makeup and that she was finally gaining some weight.
That Friday seemed to be no different as Tré wheeled Gypsy into the parking lot of Adeline.
“Tré,” She asked him then, “What do you do all day?” He smirked over at her, his blue eyes reddened due to him and Abbey staying up until probably 3 A.M. watching horror movies.
“Lately,” He began with a yawn, “Mike, Billie and me have been going to Jingletown and laying down some demos.” Abbey’s eyes widened with excitement.
“You think I could hear one, sometime?” She asked suddenly shy.
“Maybe,” He teased her, “Maybe not.” Nonetheless, she smiled as she exited Gypsy with a wave and headed inside.
It was a busy day at Adeline. They had just signed a new band and so Adrienne spent all day negotiating with their manager, Sofia set the band up for a photo shoot and Abbey filed paper work in regards to the publishing of their soon to be recorded album. Despite all that, by the end of the day Sofia had found the time to make Abbey’s face up, gradually using less and less concealer now that her bruise had faded to an ugly brownish-yellow.
As Abbey left that day, she’d expected Tré to be waiting for her with a smile as always but as she met him at the curb, he frowned anxiously up at her.
“What’s wrong?” She asked him as she plopped down in the passenger seat, worry creasing her forehead.
“Nothing is wrong, so to speak,” He told as they began down the street.
“Then, what’s not wrong?” Abbey inquired with a small chuckle, as the wind blew her hair in her face.
“Lisea called me this morning,” Tré told her simply. Abbey froze next to him at the mention of his first ex-wife.
“And?” She squeaked in response.
“Ramona’s coming for the week,” He stated then. Abbey was instantly racked with guilt, knowing his apprehension about the arrival of his daughter was her fault.
They were quiet until they pulled in the driveway. Frankito stood in the middle of the yard throwing a tennis ball for Dooder, before waving at them.
“I can get out of your hair if you need me to,” Abbey told Tré suddenly.
“No, no, no,” He responded to her emphatically, “I’ll just explain the situation to her and she’ll understand.” It sounded to Abbey like he was trying to convince himself more than her.
“I-if you say so,” Abbey said hesitantly as they stepped out into the yard.
Tré smiled as Dooder ran to him, jumped up and began licking his face.
“Yes, yes,” He cooed petting the odd dog, “I’m home.” Dooder soon lost interest and ran after the ball.
“I’ve got to drive to the airport,” He informed Abbey and Frankito, “Frankie, you want to go with?”
Frankito smiled and shook his head.
“I think I’ll just chill with Abbey until you get back,” He told his father, picking up the ball the Dooder dropped at his feet. Tré shrugged and turned to Abbey then.
He grabbed her wrist, gently and pulled her toward the white house.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” He assured her, running his finger through his shaggy, auburn hair. She nodded and for the first time since last week he placed his hand on Abbey’s now plump cheek, sending heat rising in her face.
“I’ll see you later,” He murmured with his thin lipped smile. She nodded again wordlessly. He turned and was backing from the driveway before she could utter a good-bye.
For the next few hours, her and Frankito prowled around the large house doing anything they could to keep entertained, eventually making their way upstairs. As they sat in the practice room, Abbey’s fingers flew easily over the keyboard, her odd, melancholy melodies meshing with Frankito’s adept bass lines. ‘Everything will be okay,’ Abbey told herself in the same manner Tré had told her, ‘Tré will tell her and things will be fine.’ Abbey began to key the notes of ‘Long, Long Journey’ by Enya and Frankito quickly coincided with her. For a moment, Abbey envisioned Tré behind the complex drum set, playing along with them and her heart sped up.
Abruptly, Dooder began barking, downstairs. Abbey looked nervously over at Frankito, who was already removing the bass from his shoulder by its strap, looking just as concerned. They clamored downstairs to the living room. Frankito casually sat down and Abbey mimicked him, her breath shallow and stifled. Dooder continued to bark as the oak door sprung open. A young girl, who was a near splitting image of Tré, stepped through. Her long, auburn hair was tied in a ponytail at the back of her neck; her greenish-blue eyes were accentuated by gray eye shadow and kohl eyeliner. She was smiling down at Frankito and Abbey dared feel relieved. ‘He told her,’ she thought tentatively. Then, Ramona’s eyes moved to Abbey and her face flooded with confusion. ‘He didn’t tell her!’ she thought gravely.
Tré came in, carrying a suitcase then with a skittish look that confirmed Abbey’s suspicion. Ramona turned to Tré with a skeptical look. Tré shrugged and smiled innocently.
“Ramona,” He began, “this is Abbey.” She rounded to look at Abbey who was frozen, her eyes wide. Ramona’s eyebrow rose and she looked from Abbey to Tré and back again.
“Dad,” Ramona said in a chiming voice with a hint of a New York accent, “can I talk to you in the other room?”
“S-sure,” Tré gulped and started down the hallway to the kitchen.
Abbey glanced to Frankito and he met her look with apprehension. All Abbey could hear was Ramona’s pealing voice in the other room but not the words she spoke. Frankito cleared his throat after a moment.
“So, you’re pretty good at keyboard,” He told Abbey cautiously.
“Thanks,” Abbey told him with a grim smile, “You’re pretty good at… well, every instrument.” Frankito shook his head.
With a chuckle he said, “Actually, I kinda suck at the drums.” Abbey didn’t have time to comprehend the irony in that.
Then Ramona and Tré filed back into the room. If looks could kill Abbey would have been dead, as Ramona stared daggers at her. Tré stood helplessly behind her, his azure eyes filled with disquiet.
“Nice to meet you,” Ramona snarled in her musical tone, “I’m Ramona.” ‘This is going to be a long week,’ Abbey thought helplessly.
A long week it was, indeed. Ramona refused to have anything to with Abbey, including eat in the same room and though at first Ramona would leave, after a few days Abbey had taken to eating upstairs in the spare bedroom, by herself. Tré had adopted an apologetic look every time he and Abbey spoke, which was very briefly and basically only when he picked her up from Adeline. The times he did pick her up that week, he was late and once altogether didn’t show up and Sofia had to drive her home, groaning about it the whole time. Abbey truly missed spending time with Tré but attempted to show no sign of it as she scurried to the spare room, upstairs as soon as she was able. Perhaps, the worst part was a habit Ramona had picked up since she’d met Abbey.
Ramona had adapted to ‘accidentally’ harming Abbey. The first day as Ramona passed Abbey in the living room she had stepped on her toes, that possibly was truly an accident but it escalated from there. The next day, Abbey had been sitting at the kitchen table before work, Ramona ‘tripped’ and spilled a glass of orange juice in Abbey’s lap. Abbey completely understood Ramona’s reasoning, therefore said nothing to Tré when the day after Ramona had elbowed her in the eye while throwing the ball for Dooder.
That Thursday, Abbey sat on the curb as purple, menacing clouds rolled in from the sea. She had been sitting in the same spot for 45 minutes, waiting. Finally as tiny warm droplets of rain hit her cheeks, she stood with a harrowed sigh. With that, the sky opened up to a downpour. She booked it back inside where Sofia was talking to the receptionist. She turned and as her eyes fell on Abbey she scowled.
“You ruined my work,” She growled.
“It’s raining,” Abbey uttered simply.
As Sofia coasted down the wet roads she asked Abbey, “So, what’s the issue?”
“What do you mean?” Abbey asked with a cringe.
“Your weird little arrangement with Tré,” Sofia said as the windshield wipers swiped away at the heavy rain, “I thought it was going well.”
“His daughter’s in town,” Abbey told her vigilantly.
“Ramona?” Sofia asked as they pulled on to Tré’s street, “I thought she was a pretty sweet kid.”
“I suppose she is,” Abbey said with a shrug, “when she doesn’t hate your guts.”
They pulled into the driveway and Sofia looked sympathetically into Abbey’s mascara streaked eyes. Abbey was very grateful for Sofia; she counted her as a friend despite the fact that they were total opposites.
“I’m sure that’s not the case,” Sofia told her, “she’s just protective over her dad.”
Abbey opened the door to Sofia’s Volkswagen Beetle, “If you say so.” She stepped out into the rain and waved good-bye Sofia and started toward the door. As she reached the stoop, Sofia had backed out and was driving off back toward Adeline. Abbey had noticed the absence of Gypsy but had only figured she was put away in the garage because of the rain. So, when she turned the knob and found the door locked it came as shock to her. She tried it twice more to be sure.
So she sat in the rain, soaked to the bone for the next two hours before the rain sputtered to a stop. After dark, she finally saw Gypsy’s round headlights skirting down the driveway. She stood and started off to meet them, she wasn’t even mad, just cold, wet and maybe a little disappointed. As soon as Tré’s eyes found her, he was out of the car and starting towards her. Ramona ducked out of the passenger seat with a smug grin.
“I-I’m soooo sorry,” Tré started, the contrite look stronger than ever. Abbey shook her head sorrowfully. Frankito hopped out of the back seat and rolled his eyes.
“Ramona’s phone broke,” He announced with indigence. Abbey smiled with understanding and looked Ramona in her turquoise eyes.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Abbey told her without condescension. Ramona frowned and nodded.
As soon as Abbey stepped inside Tré covered her with a blanket and lead her upstairs. He hesitated at the door of the spare room.
“I feel like crap,” He told her, leaning against the door frame, a tortured look in his eyes.
She smiled over at him from under the blanket, “Don’t be. I’ll be okay.”
“Not just about this,” he told her after a moment, “Ramona doesn’t get it.”
“I get where she’s coming from,” Abbey confided, with a shiver, “I’m an outsider.”
“Not anymore, you aren’t,” Tré proclaimed, his blue eyes twinkling with seriousness, “You’re my… friend.”
“She’s your daughter,” Abbey reminded him, “I’m just going to stay out her way and hope she’ll get used to having me around.”
Tré sighed with exasperation and nodded. He left the room and Abbey stripped from her soaking wet clothes and changed, quickly burrowing back into the pile of blankets which were damp on the inside. She wanted badly for Ramona to like her but she was clearly a threat in her eyes. Abbey had no idea how to convey the fact that she had no intention of taking her father away. Abbey staked no claim on Tré nor did she expect to despite the oddity of their friendship.
There was a knock at the door, then.
Abbey startled from her thoughts squeaked, “Come in.” The door creaked open to reveal Ramona a semi-chastened.
“Could you come downstairs?” She asked in her musical voice. Abbey nodded skeptically and ducked from under the blankets. She reluctantly followed Ramona down the stairs and into the bathroom.
“Did you need something?” Abbey asked her with curiosity.
Ramona grabbed a brush from the counter, “I’ll do your hair for you.”
So, that’s how Abbey came to be at the mercy of Ramona as she sat before the mirror. Ramona was none to gentle but Abbey wasn’t tender headed and didn’t mind.
“So this weird thing you have with my dad,” Ramona started her sea colored eyes wide with mischief, “What is it?”
“Um,” Abbey stuttered, “we’re friends?”
“Friends who live together and hardly know each other?” Ramona asked with only mild malice.
“I-it’s not like that,” Abbey began with thought, “at least I don’t think so.” Then there was sharp tugging in the back of Abbey’s head and a snap.
“Oops,” Ramona condescended, “I broke it.” Abbey’s hands instinctively touched her hair; the head of the brush had snapped off and was matted into her hair to the roots. Tears brimmed in Abbey’s eyes as she darted from the room yanking at the brush head to no avail. Sobs escaped her throat as she ran through the living room. She didn’t care about her stupid hair but she was so deeply hurt that Ramona had intentionally gone out of her way to make her life hell. She just wanted to get along, perhaps even be friends, but it seemed that it wasn’t going to happen.
“Abbey,” Tré called after her as she shot up the steps, “What’s wrong?” She rounded quickly and looked wildly at him.
“What’s wrong?” She reiterated, “This is what’s wrong!” She ran back down to him and turned showing him the tangled mess. His eyeliner rimmed eyes narrowed and he oscillated toward Ramona, who was just walking in the room with a superior smile.
He pushed past Abbey and came to stand before Ramona who was looking significantly less smug under his angry gaze.
“We’re going to have a talk,” He told her grievously. Abbey looked fearfully to Frankito, who seemed to be smiling at Ramona’s expense. Abbey had never seen this side of Tré and blamed herself that his daughter had to. He took Ramona by the wrist and pulled her into the kitchen a scowl on his face. Abbey had all but forgotten about the broken brush head dangling painfully from her hair, all she could focus on was that she was ruining things as always.
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Tré was trying to contain his anger and Ramona had regained her composure.
“Why?” He asked then with his back turned away from her.
“It wasn’t on purpose,” Ramona equivocated poorly.
“Bullshit,” He shouted, “It was an accident just like all the other crap you’ve done this week?”
“S-she told you that stuff?” Ramona asked her eyes wide.
“She didn’t need to,” Tré imparted, “All you have to do is look at her.”
It was Ramona’s time to become angry.
“What’s up with you two anyway?” She demanded with her hand on her hip.
“We’re friends,” Tré told her, as Abbey had. Ramona scoffed.
“I’m not that clueless and neither are you,” She proclaimed with vexation, “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. It’s like you’re the greatest thing that ever happened to her.” Tré was quiet for a moment and Ramona had thought he had conceded.
“S-she needs me,” He said softly after a moment, “No one’s ever needed me.” Ramona frowned up at her father.
“I need you,” She muttered staring down at the floor. Tré softened significantly and placed a hand on his daughters chin, forcing her to look back up at him.
“It’s not the same thing,” He confessed, “You have me and your mom, she has no one.”
“Why is that your problem?” Ramona interrogated. Tré became quiet then, his blue eyes focused on his Converses. Ramona looked at his expression for a brief moment and laughed bitterly.
“How old is she, dad?” She asked shrilly, “A whole three years older than me?”
“I-it’s not like that,” Tré muttered helplessly.
“Then what is it like?” Ramona all but screamed, “She’s a kid! She has no life experience!”
Tré became serious, his thin lips pulled into a defensive frown, “You don’t know the things she’s been through.” Ramona bared her teeth in anger.
“You think you do!?” She laughed rancorously, “You only know what she’s told you.”
“I could say the same about you, sometimes,” Tré retorted without thought. Ramona looked as though Tré had slapped her. She turned and started from the room.
Abbey had heard nearly the entire exchange and as Ramona flew past her out the door Abbey thought, ‘I caused this, I need to fix it,’ and ran out after her. By the time she made it out the door Ramona was already far down the street. Abbey ran as fast as her short legs would take her but with the legs of an ice skater, Ramona was much quicker. Abbey’s pace slowed to a crawl, yet Ramona seemed unfazed until she tripped. Abbey gasped and despite the stitch in her side and the brush head banging against her skull, thrust herself forward full force.
When Abbey, panting like a dog, had caught up to Ramona she was picking herself up from the concrete. Abbey gently touched Ramona’s shoulder and she turned and gave her a scathing look. Abbey quickly removed her hand and backed up.
“Ramona,” She pleaded, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Ramona snapped bitingly.
“That I’m creating turmoil between your dad and you,” Abbey explained breathlessly. Ramona softened and sighed.
“It was already there,” She confessed to Abbey, her blue-green eyes shimmering with unshed tears, “If it’s not you it’s the band or a million other things.”
“I understand,” Abbey sympathized, “but why me?”
Ramona thought about it a moment.
“You’re becoming the center of his attention,” She told Abbey simply, sitting down on the curb.
“But we’re just fri-,” Abbey initiated before Ramona cut her off.
“Cut the crap,” Ramona snarked as Abbey sat beside her, “I know my dad.” Abbey blushed but looked Ramona in the face, her green eyes serious.
“You need to tell him how you feel, I think he believes you don’t care either way,” Abbey advised her, “When you’re here I’ll stay out of the way. Maybe spend a couple days with a friend.”
“I’m sorry about your hair,” Ramona told her with smile at her mischief.
“I don’t freaking care,” Abbey informed her with a chuckle. Ramona rolled her eyes at Abbey’s indifference but smiled.
“You’re okay,” She expressed pulling her long hair from its ponytail.
“And you only have one day left to spend with your dad,” Abbey reminded her, “You should get back.”
So they walked side by side back down the street back to Tré’s house. Tré stood in the yard helplessly, his bright eyes wide with worry. He started to apologize as they came near but Ramona simply threw herself into his arms and he smiled curiously over at Abbey, his eyebrow raise. She simply shrugged and left them to talk.
As Abbey stepped into Adrienne’s office, Sofia in tow, she wore a black beanie that Tré had leant to her.
“What’s so ridiculously important that you had to interrupt my latte?” Sofia asked chomping on a piece of gum as she shut the door. Abbey removed the hat and turned for Sofia to see the damage. Sofia gasped and ran forward.
“How did this happen?” She demanded picking at the choppy hair at the back of Abbey’s head.
“Ramona,” Abbey explained simply, “but you were right though, she just missed her dad.” Sofia rolled her eyes and left to get a pair of scissors.
At 5 on the dot, Tré pulled up to the curb in Gyps.y, wearing his aviator sunglasses. She waved and skipped toward the cherry red Comet and hopped inside. She pulled her seatbelt on and smiled over at him. He removed his sunglasses then observed her freshly cut bob haircut with a smirk.
“Problem?” She asked her cheeks burning under his gaze. He put Gypsy into gear and they started towards home.
“You look really different,” He informed her focusing on the road.
“Good different,” Abbey inquired as her hair blew easily back from her face, “Or bad different?”
He regarded her from the corner of his eye before muttering, “Definitely good.” Abbey’s face glowed red.
After pulling into the driveway, Abbey unbuckled her seatbelt and began to get out. Tré placed a hand on her arm to stop her. She turned to him and smiled with bemusement.
“T-thanks for talking to Ramona,” He said his hand gently moving to rest on hers. Rouge quickly blossomed in her sharp cheeks.
“I -it’s not a big deal,” Abbey murmured looking at him from under her eyelashes, “I think she was just looking for a way to show you how much she missed you.”
“It sucks it had to be at your expense,” Tré mention his wide blue eyes piercing her green.
“It’s okay,” Abbey confessed touching her short hair, “I was looking for a reason to get a haircut.”
Tré drew near, then. He tentatively reached forward and stroked her golden brown hair.
“At least there’s that,” He uttered. Abbey eyes grew wide as he looked at her from beneath hooded eyelids. His soft hand came to rest delicately on her cheek. As she felt his hot breath against her skin, her body reflexively leaned forward to meet him.
Their lips met softly, at first, testing the waters. After a moment, Tré pulled Abbey’s body into his arms as the kiss deepened. His hands twined in her hair and she softly stroked the stubble on his cheek. Her heart thudded in her chest as his tongue skimmed her bottom lip begging for entry which she obliged. He pulled away for a second, leaving Abbey unsatisfied. He pressed his thin lips to her temple sending fresh waves of heat to her lightly tanned skin.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Tré whispered in a husky voice. He pulled back to read her reaction. She stared breathlessly back at him, her eyes wild with electricity. She said nothing and simply replied by pressing her lips to his, once more.