They held me.
When I finally pulled myself back together, my muscles felt loose and wobbly from the cry, and the world seemed lopsided and dizzy. I remembered that I hadn’t really slept, and that I needed to get the bus home, and to deal with my car.
I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, Rory took my hand. “Stay the night,” he said. “We can help you figure things out in the morning.”
I turned my eyes to Franklin. “We said I wouldn’t sleep over here. You guys wanted your home to be off-limits.”
“We have the house tonight,” Franklin said gently. “Rory’s right. You should stay.”
I pressed my hand down on the leather of the couch. Across the room, Marlene napped in a small red dog bed. I turned my eyes over every detail. I wanted to know this was real, that I wasn’t just delusional and sleep-deprived, or maybe on life support in a hospital from that crash.
“Okay,” I said, too exhausted to make up any more excuses. Too tired, finally, to even run.
“I’ll stay.”
FRANKLIN
Something clicked into place when I held Asher in my arms and felt him releasing his pain into the shared embrace that Rory and I offered him.
Ever since my sister first got sick, I had leaned on Rory, just like this. I had turned to him to hold me through all of that pain, to cook for me and clean for me when I wasn’t doing those things myself and to encourage me to get going again when the time was right. I had gotten so used to leaning on him, in fact, but now I knew the time had come for me to offer that strength.
Rory and I helped Asher to his feet. I brought him upstairs as Rory went to grab us waters and tea. It was just about dinner time, but something told me Asher wasn’t ready to eat.
“Come on,” I said, taking him by the arm as we walked up the stairs. “Good boy.” Asher hummed when I said it, and I nodded. “Good boy,” I said again. “We’ll make sure you’re okay.”
My back straightened with pride as I led him into the bedroom. The story Asher told us was still swirling through my mind, all the details bouncing around and crashing into each other. I had a lot of questions, and I knew Rory would, too. But one thing seemed perfectly clear.
Asher was dealt one bad hand after another, from an abusive home to friends who dragged him into trouble. An honest life was waiting for him. He just needed to be given the chance.
I opened the bedroom, the last light of the day filtering through the window. “Would you like to lie down?” I asked. “Rest as long as you want…”
Asher nodded, then sat at the edge of the big old bed. He laid his hand on the flannel sheets, pressing his fingers down into the mattress. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep,” he said.
I nodded, then pulled back the blanket and the top sheet. “Lie down,” I said firmly. “We’ll take care of you. Even if you can’t sleep, try to just rest.”
Asher glanced at the television, installed on the wall across from the bed. “Maybe we could watch a movie?” he said, tentatively.
The tremble in his voice shook me. Ten minutes ago, he was telling us that he escaped a shootout in Los Angeles and that last night he narrowly survived a high-speed car chase. But now here he was, nervous to ask to watch a movie with us.
“Maybe Rory could pick an old one?” he added.
I smiled, then patted the bed. Asher crawled up, resting his head on the pillow I fluffed. “I’ll ask Rory to pick,” I said as I tucked him in. “You just wait right here.”
Downstairs, Rory was putting together a tray of snacks, water, and tea. I watched from the dining room as he cut up some cheese and dumped crackers in a bowl, then added a splash of whiskey to one of the tea mugs.
“Throw on some popcorn?” I asked.
He startled and turned to look at me while Marlene curled up at my feet. “Popcorn?”
“Asher suggested watching a movie in bed. He thought maybe you could pick something?”
Rory nodded quickly, but I could tell the idea lit something up inside of him. Nothing comforted him as much as watching an old movie, and he loved sharing those films with someone new. Smiling to himself, he grabbed a bag of popcorn from the cupboard and flipped on the stove.
He looked up to me, the kitchen light reflecting off his glasses. “That was quite a story he told us.”
I crossed to the counter and took a seat at the stool across from him. “It was,” I agreed.
Tension strained the edges of his face, crinkling the skin around his eyes. “Guns,” he continued. “Car crashes. Maybe a guy as young as he is needs more time before he can be in a real relationship and show up for our family in the way we’ll need him to.” He pursed his lips, wrestling with something internally.
“But it’s not just what we need from him,” I said. “He needs us, too.”
Rory nodded. “I know. I guess I’ve always known, but I didn’t quite realize it until now.”
“You always knew with me, too,” I said. “When I couldn’t pay my bills, before I had found any sort of direction in my life. When I was still a kid, lost and confused, you saw something more in me.”
Rory lifted his tea mug, then took a sip. “And now we both see something more in him, don’t we?”
“I can’t help but see it,” I said.
“Me, either.”
I stepped around the counter, and Rory pulled me in for a kiss. I held his side and stroked his back as he took me in his arms, caressing me slowly and firmly. When he released me, it was clear that something had settled between us.
“We can give him more,” Rory said. “I know I want to. Do you?”
I held his gaze, then nodded. “Yes,” I said. “I do.”
A moment passed, and then Rory tapped the counter. “We’ll have to figure out what the damage was from this accident tomorrow. I can help with that. But for now, I’ll grab a movie?”
I nodded. “I can make us all dinner after.”
Rory headed off to his DVD collection as I took the tray upstairs. When I got to the bedroom, Asher was curled up on his side, hugging a pillow to his chest while he gazed across the room. His hair fell loosely over his eyes, and when he looked up to me, he tried to smile.
“Rory put a little more whiskey in your tea,” I said, holding the tray out. “Red mug.”
Asher nodded and pulled himself up on his elbows. “Thank you again,” he said. “For having me.”
I set the tray down, then sat at the edge of the bed. “Don’t mention it,” I said, then gently pushed the hair out of his eyes. “We’re glad you’re here.”
Rory stepped through the door, Marlene still following along. “I’m not sure what you would have seen already,” he said, a few DVD cases in his hand. “But maybe West Side Story?”
Asher scratched the back of his head. “What’s that?”
Rory stopped in his tracks. Not knowing West Side Story was the equivalent of Asher telling me that he hadn’t heard of Superman.
“If you were looking for a relaxing night,” I said. “You might have just accidentally signed yourself up for a two-hour long lecture on shifting cultural norms in the middle of the twentieth century.”