Here’s the Thing (Seddledowne #4)

Chapter 24 – Ashton

twenty-four

ASHTON

The love of brothers is sweet and good, for it tempers the heart in the fire, and makes it mellow.

— THE NIBELUNGENLIED

I sat in a chair protectively next to Ford, who was propped against the inclined hospital bed, while we waited for the doctor to come talk to us. Peyton, who’d cried off all her mascara and wouldn’t stop feeling self-conscious about it, was on the bed next to him, snuggled into his side like they were a couple. Maybe they were.

Aunt Wendy and Uncle Troy had met the rest of the family on the way to the hospital, picked up all the littles, and taken them home. The E.R. after an overdose was not the place for a mess full of kids. Now, everyone was telling Sophie stories in an effort to make Ford laugh.

“Oh, I remember.” Dad scoffed after Holden brought up the Fence Post Incident. “She decided to drive my truck at the age of twelve just to prove she could and backed over a fence post. Instead of getting out and coming to find me so I could help, she tried to drive forward, ramming it into the axle.” He pursed his lips. “Gone but not forgotten indeed.”

Ford chuckled and it was music to my ears.

Lemon held up her phone with Anna and Blue on the other end via FaceTime. Anna’s eyes were red but she was smiling. She kept saying how she wished she weren’t in Kansas. Then Silas would make a Wicked Witch cackling sound and call her my pretty .

I could tell from the look on each of my family’s faces that they thought if they stopped making Ford laugh, the darkness might claim him again. He seemed okay with all of us there. We might want to watch him once Peyton left though. His cheek was resting against the top of her head like he’d stay there forever if she’d let him.

“Coming through,” a woman said in an authoritative tone from the doorway. I couldn’t see her because Dad, Holden, and Silas were blocking the way. “I knew we had a celebrity in here but I didn’t realize he’d brought half his fans with him.” A short, petite, fifty-something woman with dark hair to her chin, pushed her way through the crowd. She had on a black dress under her white doctor’s coat. “You might want to tell your armed guard that the doctor doesn’t need a security check to come into the room.”

Jeff, who Ford had told to go out for the evening, was back, and it looked like he was taking his job very seriously.

“Fans.” Mom let out a little huff. “Please. We’re family. We knew him before all the fame went to his head.”

When the doctor got to the end of the bed, she put her hands on her hips. “Well, I’d say you know how to draw a crowd. ”

“Yes ma’am.” Ford’s smile was forced. “Though this wouldn’t be my preferred method.”

“I should think not.” She mock-whispered, “Is it okay if I discuss your medical history in front of all of them?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

“I’m not family. And I’m definitely not a fan,” Peyton said, making the room break out into laughter. “So I should probably go.” She moved to get up.

But Ford tightened his arm around her. “Stay. Please?”

All teasing aside, she gazed into his eyes. “Okay.” Then she tensed under his arm. “But y’all might not like what I have to say.”

He beamed at her in a way I’d never seen him look at another woman. “I always love what you have to say, Peyton.”

“Hear, hear,” seconded Lemon.

“Same!” Anna said happily on the other end of the phone. “Stay.”

“Peyton.” The doctor folded her hands in her lap. “Are you Ford’s wife?”

“Yes,” Ford said really fast. Peyton gave him a narrowed side-eye. Everyone laughed.

Peyton blew out a pshaw . “No. I’m a friend .” She emphasized the word.

“For now.” Ford’s grin was cocky. The swagger was back. It was a good sign.

Normally, it annoyed Peyton, but now she was blushing, trying not to smile.

“I’m curious, Peyton Who’s Only A Friend.” The doctor winked at Ford. “For now. What is it that you want to say that you think people might not want to hear?”

Peyton sat up. Ford’s hand hooked around her waist, keeping her close. Her knee started to bounce. “I think Ford has severe depression and anxiety and he has since he was a kid.” Her eyes turned stormy. “And frankly, I don’t understand why his parents didn’t figure it out years ago and get him help.”

Oof. She did not mince words.

Ford sat up taller, looking a little sick and like maybe he was regretting letting her stay. My brother’s and I exchanged a look.

Mom bristled across the tiny room. “Are you saying we’re bad parents?”

“Of course not.” Peyton’s shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. “I’m saying that maybe if someone had done something about it years ago, he wouldn’t feel the need to self-medicate with liquor, weed, and worse.” She shivered. “It is mind-blowing that recreational drugs seem to be a more acceptable solution than letting him admit he’s depressed and getting him the proper help.” Her jaw jutted. “I’ve heard comments around the Dupree dinner table. I know what y’all think about mental health meds and therapy.”

She wasn’t wrong. Dad always said Prozac—what he called all depression meds—was for crazy people, and therapists were the biggest quacks out there.

“Now that is uncalled for.” Mom huffed.

“Mom.” I stopped her. “Peyton has earned the right to speak her mind, even if it makes us uncomfortable. Ford would be dead right now if it weren’t for her. Dead . None of us should ever forget that.”

Mom sucked in a sob and covered her mouth. But she nodded for Peyton to continue.

“Needing medication isn’t something to be ashamed of,” Peyton said. “I’m not afraid to let my freak flag fly.” She raised her hand in the air. “Proud taker of a safe dose of legally prescribed ADHD meds right here. Those meds changed my life.” She shrugged. “And I go to therapy every week. Frankly, it’s what keeps me from killing Braxton, and other people who may or may not remain nameless.” She said the last part under her breath. “ And I think therapy could benefit every person in this room.” She looked right at Mom and Dad as she held her hands up. “I know y’all think I’m an airhead whose only redeeming quality is her pretty face, and that I don’t know when to keep my mouth shut. And maybe that’s true?—”

“No one thinks that,” I said. I definitely didn’t. Yes, on the pretty face. No, on the rest.

She gave me a small smile. “But at least Ford can be real with me. He can open up and I won’t judge him. He can text or call and tell me that he’s had a crap day and he’s struggling and I won’t tell him to cowboy up .” I winced at the term commonly used by all of us. “I let him talk and cry if he needs to.”

My head tilted and I looked at her and Ford, just realizing that their friendship was a lot deeper than I ever gave it credit for. How many times before tonight had she talked him off a ledge successfully and single handedly? What did we owe Peyton?

She chewed her lip, the room pin drop silent and heavy with tension. “I’m going to be real with you. I love me some Duprees. Love y’all more than I love my own dysfunctional family. But Ford needs meds, therapy, and rehab. And you shouldn’t get in his way. Or tease him. You should support him. I know I’m going to.” She hopped off the bed, apparently done. Then she kissed Ford on the top of the head. “I’ll get out of your hair now.” Her blue eyes were bright and bold with a touch of sympathy. “I really do love all of you. I just don’t want something like this to…” She sucked in a stuttering breath. “Ever happen again.”

Ford reached for her hand, holding her in place, clearly not wanting her to go.

Her expression warmed, and she bent over and pressed a hand against his cheek. “I’ll come see you tomorrow. I promise.”

He laid his hand over hers, pulled it to his lips, and kissed her palm. Then he let go.

She half walked—half skipped out of the room, only stopping when Lemon pulled her into a quick hug.

“Bye, Peyton!” Christy called before she disappeared through the door.

“Dang,” said the doctor once she was gone. “I like her.”

Ford grinned. “Me too. A lot .” He enunciated the T.

Me three. She’d saved my brother’s life today. And maybe a lot of other days too.

“Come on in.” The doctor waved everyone closer as if we were a football team about to huddle. Once Ford was surrounded, she looked at Mom and Dad. “Are you on board with Peyton’s plan? Because she hit every nail on the head. Meds, therapy, and rehab. It’s going to be hard, but if he has this crew…” She chuckled and flipped her thumb backward to the door. “And that woman, he has the best chance possible.”

Mom looked at Dad. Then they looked at the doctor. “Yes,” Mom said. “We’re on board.”

The doctor shook Ford’s foot under the blanket. “And what about you? You’re the one that’s going to have to put in the hard work.”

His eyes were huge and he seemed overwhelmed.

I glanced at the spot on his arm where they’d removed the IV. I reached over and squeezed his hand—something I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing yesterday. We made eye contact.

I smiled and nodded encouragingly. “We’ll help. All of us.”

“Yes,” said Anna. “I can fly home. Blue is already looking for a ticket.” “Found one!” Blue yelled in the background.

“I’m in,” Silas said.

“All the way,” said Holden .

Christy and Lemon cupped their hands around their mouths and hollered in unison like two cheerleaders. “We love you, Fo-shiz!”

Ford chuckled. Then he looked at the doctor with a solemn yet determined expression. “Yeah. I’m in.”