I’m not going to give you Ashley’s spider story verbatim because if I do it’ll just sound like I’m making fun of her. Ashley is afraid of spiders. Deathly afraid. Let’s just leave it at that.
I once drove speeding at around 2am to Ashley’s house to spray Raid on some spiders that were hiding in a mask on her wall. Ashley makes masks. It’s one of her crafts. Actually she’s better at making masks than anyone I know. But then again, she’s the only one I know who makes masks. That time I drove speeding to her house at 2am to spray Raid on those spiders behind the mask? She was still with Tim then. He just wasn’t home at the moment.
So this day, the day when Jules was inside and Ash came over—
"What time is it?”
Ashley shows me her phone. 7:53.
“Ash, you have to go home.”
She’s crying. “There’s so many of them.”
“Where are they?”
“They’re under the sink. I tried to get them with a broom and then I tried putting foil around my hand but I don’t know what to do..”
At this point in the conversation, sitting with her on the steps outside my apartment, I get fully in touch with something that I should have dealt with better at the time: I’m angry. I’m angry at this girl, for calling me at 2am while she’s still married to Tim, to come over to her house and kill spiders. I don’t even like Raid; I don’t believe in chemicals like that. I don’t believe that spiders need to be killed. I think we should just let them be, unless they’re a tarantula, and they’re on your face right then. And even then..I just don’t feel that horribly toward spiders.
“Do you think you could get some counseling?"
Ash looks at me.
“Like..fear counseling. They can help you..you can—they put a spider on..well they put a spider near your hand, and then, after a while—“
“I don’t think I could do that,” she says.
I give up. I don’t say that to her, but I do. I know I’m not perfect, I’m full of my bullshit like everyone else. Like if you find me drinking, I’ll tell you how I’m not really drinking. I’m just drinking some. Just a little. I’m just drinking today. But good grief, at least I go through the pain of trying. And how can you be that scared of spiders? Certainly I must just be a superior cuss—totally arrogant—to think I have my life together better than Ashley, but..I can’t think of a single thing I’m scared of that much. She doesn’t even try new food! Like things like peas! Or mushrooms! Or bananas! She doesn’t even like bananas. How can you not like bananas. Maybe I should have some sympathy. We had different upbringings.
But not that different.
“Is she in there?”
"I’m not gonna discuss that with you.”
“So that means yes.” Ashley turns away.
“Of course it means yes.”
"Do you want me to go?"
I exhale. “Ash—“
“I’ll go,” she says. She wipes her nose.
I put my hand on her knee. “I’m sorry—“
She grips my fingers. “It’s ok,” she says.
“Why don’t you call Chad.”
“Chad is gay,” she says.
I laugh. “So you finally figured that out.”
“I knew,” she says, “I knew. I thought I could turn him. There’s only so many times a guy can gag when he’s eating your pussy before you realize,” she says, “that the guy is fucking gay.”
There’s that sense of humor I like.
“Did I ever gag when I ate your pussy?”
Ash holds her head high. "Not once.” She even smiles. Then she stands and with her back to me, looking at my door, she says: “No. You like pussy all too much.” She turns to me and says: “Obviously.”