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Before: Do Right By Her


Ashley

We rented a car and Nick drove us to the hotel so we could clean up before going over to the prison. Nick showered first and sat on the end of the bed afterwards watching cartoons while I went in and took my own shower. I turned the hot water on as high as it would go, letting the water scald my back, my palms pressed to the tiled wall, breathing in the steam. My hair hung like a ruby curtain and I stared down at the textured floor of the tub.

When I climbed out of the shower, I felt scared. I dug through my suitcase, which I'd rolled in with me, until I found the red dress with the white polka dots that I'd bought just for this trip. I shimmied it on over my head and swiped my red lipstick over my mouth. I stood staring at myself in the mirror, my hair still damp, hanging in stringy curls like I'd just stepped out of the ocean. My heart was pounding so hard and we weren't even there yet.

Would he recognize me? I wondered. Did he know anything about me?

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Nick looked up from the TV and let out a low whistle. "Woww... damn you clean up nice," he commented.

"Oh shut up," I said.

"I'm serious," Nick replied. He snapped the TV off. "Damn."

"Well. Then. Thank you, I guess," I replied. I tossed my hair back. I was too nervous to feel pretty. I wrung my hands and grabbed my purse, stepping into blue high heels and shrugging on a denim jacket. I stared at Nick.

He was staring back.

"You ready?" I asked.

"Eager?" he smiled.

I shook my head, "I just know if I sit I'll lose my nerve."

"Okay, then, let's go."

We walked down to the car and Nick plugged in the address on his phone, and we started driving. I stared out the window, sick to my stomach. A town larger than I'd ever really imagined being in Kansas flew by out my window. Nick reached over and squeezed my knee gently.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm scared to death," I said, "But otherwise doing okay."

"Like I said when we started this thing... There's nothing to lose, only to gain. At least when this is over, you'll know."

"I just don't know what I'm expecting," I said quietly, "I mean, he can't come to my wedding, he can't explain away what he did, there's really no point to this." I stared down at my lap.

"There is a point," Nick said. I glanced over at him, he was staring straight ahead as he drove. "The point is that you've met your father. However shitty he is, you've met him, and you can tell him how you feel and telling him... maybe it'll help you feel better."

"You know I don't have the nerve to tell him anything," I said, "He's essentially a stranger."

Nick glanced over at me as he pulled to a stop at a redlight. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?" he asked.

I laughed, "Stop, you're gonna make me think I'm pretty or something."

"You are," he insisted.

"Says the man who called me Dogface for twenty-something years."

"You know that was military ranks," he frowned. "Besides, I stopped. Remember?"

I laughed, "Besides, you think anything with breasts is pretty."

"Not anything," he argued. "Gym teachers, they have breasts. I don't think they're pretty."

"They have manboobs, that's different."

"Not all of them."

"Yeah 'cos they're men in disguise," I argued.

"Chickens have breasts, I don't think chickens are pretty," he argued.

I laughed, "Some people do. Beastiality came from some origin."

"I knew a guy who did a goat once," Nick said. "I didn't stay friends with him after I found out 'cos thats fucked up, you know?"

"Was his name Aberforth?"

Nick hooted out a laugh, "Oh shit."

"Well you know that's what was being got at," I laughed, "Rowling did an excellent job of saying it without saying it."

"How many hundreds of Potter fans are gonna grow up and 'get it' one day and be traumatized for the rest of their damn lives because Dumbledore's brother fucked a goat?" Nick was laughing so hard he was crying.

The light turned green.

"To be honest, I was a little traumatized when I read it a second time and it hit me," I admitted, "I didn't get it the first time."

"I got it."

"That's because you're a perv."

Nick put on the blinker and turned into a long, winding driveway that led across a huge ass parking lot. There was a gigantic brick and concrete building with barred windows and huge fences taller than the building, headed with thick coils of barbed wire, and a guard standing on the roof with a gun so big I could see it from where we were.

I stared ahead, wide-eyed, the humor of the moment melting away the moment I had laid eyes upon the prison.

Nick parked and we stared out the window.

We'd done this last Christmas at his mother's house. I wondered if it was something to do with parents being contained inside making a building look scarier than it was. Did Nick's house look like this in his eyes?

"You ready?" Nick asked.

"No," I whispered. But I reached for the door handle.

As we walked across the parking lot, Nick caught my hand and laced his fingers through mine. "Hey Ashley?"

"Yeah?" I asked.

"I'm here," he said.

And I knew he was echoing what I'd said as we had boarded the plane back in Los Angeles. And it was comforting.




Nick

I've been arrested twice, but I also managed to not land myself inside one of these high security type places. After walking across the parking lot toward it and stepping inside, I swore to God that I'd be good for the rest of my days. No way in hell was I going to end up in one of these places - ever.

Ashley clung to my arm like she was pasted there and I could feel her body pulsating with nerves.

An officer at a reception desk just inside looked up from behind bullet-proof glass. He stood up, putting down the newspaper he'd been reading, and pressed a buzzer to a microphone. "Can I help you?" he asked, looking from me to Ashley.

Ashley started to answer but nothing came out except a terrified, tiny squeak, so I said, "We're here to visit with Henry Jackson."

The officer studied us a moment, turned to a computer and started clicking on the keyboard. "And who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Nick Carter, this is Ashley Jackson. His daughter."

"It's going to be a minute," the officer said. "Have a seat." He waved at a bank of chairs.

Ashley didn't stop shaking the entire time we sat there. And a minute had really been a gross underestimation, because over an hour went by. I tried to make small talk, but, like me on the plane, Ashley didn't want anything to do with it. So I finally resorted to just hugging her. A part of me wondered if this was a mistake. "Do you want to leave?" I asked her quietly.

"No," she shook her head.

After what seemed like forever, the cop waved us back and said that we could have a few minutes to talk to Henry. A door to our left buzzed and another officer opened it and came out and called us over and we followed him through dark, dismal hallways, upstairs, and down another, even longer, even more dismal hallway.

Finally, he opened a door, and waved us into a room just like you see in the movies with the long bank of booths, separated by glass, phones on either side. "Have a seat in booth eleven," he said. "Jackson will be brought out in just a moment." He stood sentry at the door.

Ashley melted into the chair. She looked at me.

"It's gonna be okay," I said.

She nodded.

I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but it seemed like an inappropriate place and time to utter such a confession. I was afraid she'd think the only reason I said it was because she was upset, and not understand that I meant it with all my heart.

A door opened on the otherside of the bank of phones and Ashley stiffened and grabbed my hand even tighter than she'd been holding it before. An officer entered, followed by a man whose vibrant red hair was thick and unruly and dirty. He sat down across from us, and looked up. His face was guant and his jaw quavering slightly. He had Ashley's narrow nose, but not her eyes. He was wearing the orange jumpsuit and hand cuffs. He stared through the glass at us, well at Ashley.

He reached up with both hands, cuffed as they were, and lifted the phone off the hook, bringing it to his ear. I reached for the phone hanging on the wall beside me and handed it to Ashley.

She held it up so we both could hear.

"Hello," he said. His voice was thick.

"Huuuhhh..." Ashley said, not quite getting the "ello" part of the word out. She had tears streaming down her face as she stared, gape-mouthed.

"Ashley," he said.

Her eyes lit up when he said her name. "Yes," she said. "How - how did you know my name?"

He smiled slightly, sadly, "I gave it to you. Before..." he cast his eyes away for a moment, then brought them back to meet hers. "You have her eyes," he whispered.

"My mother," Ashley said.

He nodded. Then for the first time, his eyes shifted to me. "Are you taking good care of her?" he asked.

"Why do you care?" Ashley snapped before I could formulate an answer.

Henry looked back at her, "Ashley," he said, "I would do anything to go back and change what - what happened. I'd do anything to take it back and still have her, still have you." His eyes were profoundly sad and somewhere deep inside me I knew he wasn't just saying the words he thought she wanted to hear.

"Well you can't," she said, her voice wobbling. "You can't undo the last thirty-three years."

"I don't want to change thirty-three years, just one moment... and I've spent the last thirty-three years thinking about the moment that I wish I could change."

"Good," she answered. "You should. You ruined three lives. Mine, hers, your own." Ashley's lip trembled, "I've wanted a father my entire life."

"I am... so... sorry," Henry said.

Ashley's face crumpled, and a deep-gutted sob broke out of her. She stood up, shoving the phone at me, and walked away.

"I'm sorry," I said hurriedly into the phone.

I was about to hang up, about to go after her, when he said, "Do right by her."

Our eyes met and he said, "I made a terrible mistake a very long time ago and it cost me everything... it cost me my beautiful girl. She's been through enough shit because of me now." He stared at me solidly, "Don't hurt her. Please. Don't hurt her no more."

I nodded. "I wouldn't dream of it, sir," I said. And I hung up and ran after Ashley.