The Wife You Know

ONE

I felt panic punch me hard in the gut and steal my breath. I didn’t get Ashley’s erratic voice mail until two hours after she’d left it, while I was walking off the private plane at Eagle County Regional Airport, just outside Vail. I’d been asleep for most of the flight back from Palo Alto. After getting up well before sunrise that morning for a quick day trip out to California to meet with my partners at the software company we’d started, I was completely exhausted on the way back. I regretted sleeping now. Her words woke me up quick.

“Hey, it’s Ashley . . .” Cough, cough. “I’m headed to the hospital right now in an ambulance. There was a fire, Luke, but . . .” Cough, cough. “I think . . . I think I’m okay. Joy is . . . I don’t . . . You’re probably already on the plane. Just call me when you get this, and I’ll explain everything. Love you.”

I could hear the ambulance’s siren in the background of her message. A fire? Joy? Was it our home? I quickly dialed up my wife’s number, my hands beginning to tremble. The phone rang four times and went straight to an automated voice mail. Ashley had never taken the time to create her own personalized greeting. When I first met her, she hadn’t even owned a cell phone. As someone who was always connected in numerous ways, I found this baffling—and so refreshing. I cursed, called her again. Same result. So I began hustling through the small airport terminal, feeling the panic inside me grow.

Hitting the sidewalk outside the airport, I ran toward the short-term parking lot, my leather briefcase in one hand, my blue sport coat clutched in the other. I only wore sport coats while attending meetings. I hated getting dressed up. Most days, I worked at home in a T-shirt and blue jeans. I found my white Range Rover where I’d left it that morning and quickly climbed inside. I was racing down I-70 toward Vail a few minutes later. It was normally about a thirty-minute drive, but I planned to make it much quicker. I presumed Ashley had meant the hospital in Vail. She’d had no plans to leave the area today, as far as I knew.

I tried her cell phone again. She still didn’t answer. That made me feel uneasy. Ashley had said she was okay, but was she really? Had she just said that so I wouldn’t freak out? She’d done that once before when I was traveling. Joy had fractured her arm on the playground. Ashley had told me over the phone that she’d only gotten a “boo-boo” and was okay. I’d found out the severity of it when I got home and saw the cast. Ashley had explained she didn’t want me freaking out and leaving my meeting early. She was right—I would’ve bolted straight for the airport. Joy already felt like my own daughter. She had accepted me way before Ashley ever came around to it, and we’d developed a special bond in a short amount of time. I scrambled to find the number for Vail Health Hospital on my phone while trying not to swerve off the highway.

A friendly female voice answered. “Vail Health, how may I direct your call?”

“I’m looking for my wife, Ashley Driskell. I believe she was brought in by ambulance a couple of hours ago.”

“Yes, Mr. Driskell, she’s here.”

“What happened? Is she okay?”

“Let me see if I can get a doctor for you. Please hold.”

I pressed my foot down harder on the gas pedal. I was nearing ninety-five miles per hour, zipping around slower-moving traffic. My heart hammered in my chest. I took several deep breaths, ran my fingers through my wavy hair, tried to calm myself down. I didn’t need to have an anxiety attack right now. I used to have them weekly. But I hadn’t had one since I met Ashley a year ago. I glanced out my window at the Rocky Mountains. They were always calming and peaceful to me. They were the reason I’d chosen this place when starting my life over eighteen months ago. I’d had to escape California after my first wife’s tragic death. It had become too painful to constantly drive by all our favorite restaurants and hangouts, and I’d quickly grown weary of running into our friends and always getting the sad head tilt as people asked how I was doing. I no longer wanted to return to the beautiful home Jill and I had renovated together. I couldn’t even walk into the nursery we’d spent months preparing for our child.

A widower at thirty. A baby girl I never got to hold.

Nothing can quite prepare you for something so devastating.

Especially when you have only yourself to blame.

My thoughts returned to Ashley. I had never expected to be married again so soon. I certainly hadn’t gone looking for it. I was still struggling with grief and battling guilt. But I was admittedly lonely. Money doesn’t solve loneliness. In many ways, it can isolate you even more. After Jill died, I’d also made a commitment to myself to seize the moment, knowing how fast life can change. Go skydiving. Eat new, strange foods. Take more risks. I hadn’t anticipated one of those risks would come in the form of another woman. But Ashley was unlike anyone I’d ever met. While younger than me by six years, she had a maturity about her that reached well beyond her age. She was so different from me. She seemed so healthily detached from the materialistic pulls of the modern world. She didn’t place much value in life’s luxuries. She was never too impressed with the $15 million house I’d purchased in the heart of Vail. She’d been almost embarrassed to live in it—even though she had made it much homier since moving in after we were married. Ashley didn’t seem to care what others thought. She had zero interest in social media. She was very private. She didn’t want me posting pictures of her and Joy. Ashley was content living in her own little world. Just focused on her art and Joy. And now me. I loved that about her. So much of my life had been about pleasing others and proving myself—the dirt-poor kid from a South Texas trailer park who had made himself into a huge success.

Ashley was a refuge for me. I could not lose her.

“Mr. Driskell?” The same receptionist was back on the phone. “We’ve had another emergency. I’m sorry, but Dr. Longview will have to call you right back.”

“Can you just tell me if my wife is okay?”

“I’m not allowed to comment on the status of our patients.” She paused, lowered her voice. “But I can tell you that your wife is a hero. What she did to save those kids was incredible.”

“What kids? What’re you talking about?”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know anything!” I blurted out.

I felt my neck growing hot from frustration. I needed to know what the hell had happened or else I was going to lose it.

“Sir, your wife ran into a burning building. It’s all over social media.”