Moving back inside, he peeked into both bedrooms, the smaller one perfect for a study or a nursery, with a small hall bathroom next to it. The master bedroom was not large but had its own bathroom with a soaking tub and shower combination.
The dining area was small, separated from the kitchen by a counter. The living room was a good size, with built-in bookcases on one end. As soon as the new cabinets were installed, he would be ready to advertise the apartment for rent. A young couple would find it adequate for their needs, but then it had also served the elderly man well. Asher did not care who he rented to as long as they made their payments on time and took good care of the home.
His phone vibrated, and he checked the caller ID. Seeing it was Zeke, he answered immediately.
“Hey. What’s up?”
“I’m at the homeless shelter,” Zeke said. “Were you planning on coming by today?”
Looking at the time, he replied, “Yeah. Actually, I was just finishing up at the apartment and was going to head over there. Why?”
“Hate to tell you, but you’d better bring your plumbing tools. Looks like the water heater might have a leak.”
Dropping his chin, staring at his boots, he shook his head. “Why am I not surprised? The last couple of days have been one fuckin’ thing after another.” Sighing, he added, “See you in about ten minutes.”
Parking outside the long, three-story, brick building, Asher hopped out and headed directly into the kitchen. The building housed three different dorm areas—one for men, another for women, and a larger area with individual rooms for families. The shelter was run by the city with financial assistance from grants and charities.
The shelter was special to Asher, his earliest memories from when he and his mother lived in a homeless shelter. He had bought and renovated the building before donating it to the city. He no longer owned it but continued to have his hand in the maintenance and ongoing management.
Stepping into the large, industrial-sized kitchen, he saw Zeke standing in the doorway.
“It’s not a bad leak, Ash. But I was afraid for us to leave it, or it might get worse.”
Nodding his agreement, he went to work. As he replaced some of the pipes, he asked, “Have you got someone helping with the meals yet?”
Shrugging, Zeke replied, “Between the churches that bring meals and serve, the staff here, and what I’m able to do, we’re covered.”
He appreciated Zeke’s assistance, considering that Zeke had his own full-time job running Grimm’s restaurant. He had never asked Zeke why he felt so strongly about helping with the food service at the homeless shelter, figuring he had his own reasons. Considering that Asher, himself, did not talk a lot about his earliest memories, he could hardly blame someone else for protecting their privacy.
“You going to Grimm’s tonight?” Zeke asked.
Giving the pipefitting a final twist, he replied, “Yeah. I had already told Zander I’d go, but honestly, I just like to go home. Not feeling like socializing too much.”
“Oh, come on,” Zeke pleaded. “You’re alone so much anyway, it’ll do you good to come out with us.”
“I said I was going,” he grumbled. Grabbing the rest of his tools, he walked out with Zeke, and they headed to their trucks.
While he never liked crowds, he usually enjoyed getting together with his brothers at Grimm’s. Walking in that night, all he could think of as he viewed the couples on the dance floor and his brothers sitting with their women was that he would much rather be sitting on the park bench with…whoever she was, talking about books.
Zeke headed back to the kitchen, soon coming out with platters of wings while one of the servers brought pitchers of beer.
“Asher, you look like someone kicked your dog,” Lynn said as she served the beer.
He offered a wry grin to her before realizing that her comment had everyone’s eyes looking at him. Attempting to take the attention off of him, he asked, “How’s the family, Lynn?”
Her eyes sparkled as she said, “Growing like weeds! Let’s hope Grimm’s keeps flourishing and having good nights, so my tips keep rolling in! " She smiled widely at the others before moving on to check on the tables and bar.
“You do look kind of grumpy,” Rosalie said, her eyes narrowed on him. “What’s going on?”
“Everything okay with your houses?” Cael asked.
Morgan and Ruby returned from the ladies’ room just in time to hear the last comments. Slipping into their seats next to Jaxon and Jayden, they both asked, “Is something wrong?”
Before he could bite someone’s head off, Eleanor spoke up. “If someone wants to be left alone, I think the rest of us should respect that.”
Shooting a grateful look her way, he should have known that was never going to work. Zeke piped up, “We were together at the homeless shelter, and he was glaring at everyone.”
“Something wrong, bro?” Zander asked.
“Even if something was, you all never shut up long enough for anybody to say anything,” he mumbled, taking a sip of his beer. Setting it down on the table, he watched the condensation roll down the glass for a moment before realizing how quiet the table had become. Lifting his gaze, he saw all eyes on him. Sighing heavily, he admitted, “I met someone.”
The table broke out in chatter all at once before Zander lifted his hand and they quieted. It did not pass Asher’s notice that even as adults, Zander took his role as the eldest very seriously. Now, with expectant faces turned toward him, he wished he had never said anything. Shrugging, he admitted, “Y’all can stop looking at me like that. There’s nothing to tell.”
“That’s not true,” Rosalie said. “We think it’s wonderful you met someone. What’s her name?”
Feeling the room get warmer, he said, “I don’t know.”
Not wanting to look at their faces, he kept his eyes on his glass, but nonetheless could feel their stares boring into him.
“Where does she live?” Rafe asked.
Eyes still on his glass, he replied, “Don’t know.”
"What does she do?” Regina asked.
Tired of the questions that he was not going to know the answers to, he lifted his gaze, pinned it on everyone at the table before finally saying, “I don’t know.”
Everyone grew silent until Zander finally asked, “Then what do you know about her?”
Now, feeling completely foolish, he replied, “I know she likes to read. She likes to read classics.” Dropping his gaze, he refused to watch their expressions morph into incredulity.
Much to his surprise, Zander simply stated, “Can’t think of anything better for her to do with her time.”
Looking up again, he saw accepting smiles on their faces and was unable to keep the chuckle from slipping out. "I met her at the park while I was running. She was sitting alone and reading a book, so I sat with her for a little while, and we started discussing the story. She mentioned that she goes there most afternoons and so the next day on my run, I stopped again."
Eleanor, sitting to his right, placed her hand on his arm and said, “I think that’s lovely, Asher. Rafe and I first bonded over a love of literature.”
Rosalie piped up, agreeing. “You know, that’s how Zander and I connected.”
Zeke leaned back in his chair and said, “So, that’s why you’ve been a grumpy bugger. It’s been raining for the last couple of days, so you haven’t been able to meet her.”
Hating to admit it, he knew he could not lie to his friends. Nodding, he said, “I made up my mind that the next time I saw her, I was going to ask her name. And now, it’s been raining for the past two days, and I have no idea if she’ll be there when I go back.”
Regina grinned, saying, “Names can be overrated. After all, Cael and I spent a week together without knowing each other’s names!” Cael shook his head before pulling her in for a kiss.
“I know it sounds stupid, but there was just something about her. I might not ever see her again, or if I do, we may be not
hing more than park bench buddies who talk about books.”
Another round of wings and beer was placed on the table, and the group quickly moved away from discussing him and went on to other topics, for which he was glad.
An hour later, he was ready to call it a night and pushed his chair back, standing. Making his way around the table with goodbye handshakes and back slaps with his brothers and kisses on the cheeks for the women, he started walking toward the door.
“Asher!” Cael called out.
Turning around, he saw Cael holding up his phone, giving it a little shake. He cocked his head to the side in question.
“I just checked the weather app. The rain is ending tonight, and tomorrow is going to be sunny and pleasant,” Cael reported, a wide grin on his face.
Rolling his eyes, he turned and headed out into the night toward his truck. Thinking about what Cael had just said, he felt lighter than he had in the past two days. If the sun is shining tomorrow, I can go for a jog. If I go for a jog in the park, maybe, just maybe she will be there. And this time, I’ll learn her name.
8
His heart beat erratically, unlike the steady pounding of his footsteps. Asher ran through the woods, coming closer to the pond. The day had dawned sunny and bright, and he had barely been able to work for thinking of his run in the afternoon and whether or not she would be sitting on the bench.
Passing the edge of the woods, the sun reflected off the pond, almost blinding him, but his feet continued forward. Children ran around and played. Mothers pushed strollers. Older people walked along the path. But his eyes were glued toward the far end, straining for the second when he would be able to see the bench.
Finally, rounding another curve, what he was craving came into sight. The tree with its golden red leaves providing shade over the bench with the solitary woman sitting on one end, an open book in her hands. She looked up, and he could have sworn she was searching for him. When their gazes met, he wondered if he imagined the relieved expression on her face before her smile widened in greeting.
Slowing his pace, he fought to catch his breath. It was not as though the run had been excessive, but thoughts of her had made breathing more difficult. Veering off the path, he walked closer, his gaze taking in everything about her. Once more in simple blue jeans and sneakers, her light blue shirt showcased delicate curves. Today, she wore clips in her hair to it hold back from her face, allowing the silky strands to dangle teasingly near her ears. Her eyes were warm and her smile bright as she greeted him shyly.
“Hello,” she said, her voice soft and now familiar.
“I was hoping you were going to be here,” he admitted, still standing as nerves hit him.
“After being trapped inside for two days, I could hardly wait to come back here,” she said. She glanced at the bench next to her, and asked, “Would you like to sit…or…um…do you need to be somewhere?”
He immediately plopped down onto the bench and twisted his body so that he was facing her. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now than here.”
Her face softened, and she said, “I hoped to see you today, also.”
He started to ask her name then hesitated. Unsure how to go about it, his gaze dropped to the book in her lap, seeing it was something new. “What are you reading today?” he asked, thinking that was a safer topic to start with.
She scrunched her nose and said, “I’m not really reading the whole book. I’m really just skimming it to remind myself what it’s about.” She closed the book and flipped it around so that he could see the cover. Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens.
Shaking his head, he said, “That’s not one I remember. I did have to read A Tale of Two Cities when I was in high school.”
Laughing, she said, “That’s another story that’s hard to understand. Mr. Dickens had so many subplots going on in his books, and he would interweave them together in a way that made it confusing to read. At least for me.”
Nodding his head toward the book in her hands, he asked, “Is that story any easier?”
She shook her head and sighed. “No, not really. I do find the first part really interesting. I know part of what he was writing about had to do with the ridiculous system in England at the time. If you couldn’t pay your debts, then you were placed in a debtors’ prison where you had no way to work to pay the money off that you owed. In fact, whole families would actually live in the prison. That’s how this one starts out. Little Dorrit’s dad is in the debtors’ prison, and she lives there with him. But she is able to come and go freely, so she makes a little bit of money sewing to help pay off his debt.”
Narrowing his gaze, Asher replied, “That doesn’t make sense.”
She laughed and agreed. “At least that part of the book is easier to understand. After a while, there are so many subplots going on that I get lost.”
He shifted his body slightly, careful not to crowd her on the bench but desiring to see more of her face. He was pleased when she turned slightly, facing him as well. “So, can I ask why you’re reading a book that doesn’t make any sense?”
“I think there are things we can learn from all of the classic novels,” she said. “There are actually some really good quotes from this book, and I wanted to reread parts of it so that I would remember them.”
“I told you that my mom taught us that memorizing quotes from books was a good way to help us understand them. Is there a quote you can share with me?”
She hesitated for just a moment, her top teeth landing on her bottom lip. He wanted to reach out and sooth his finger over the reddened flesh but held back, knowing that was too intimate a gesture for what they were.
She looked over at him and said, “’One always begins to forgive a place as soon as it’s left behind.’ I’m not really sure I believe that, but I wanted to reread it nonetheless.”
“What do you think it means?” he asked, hoping that the answer would give him more insight into her.
“I suppose that when he’s talking about forgiving a place, he’s referring to a place that was not good. Perhaps had bad memories. But then he said that once you left that place, you begin to forget how awful it was.” Her gaze had settled back on her hands that were clasping the book. Lifting her chin, she stared out over the pond for a moment before turning back to him. “You’ve probably never had a place that you wanted to forget, but I did. I don’t think about it as often as I used to, but when I do, I don’t find myself forgiving it.”
His mind flooded with the small house he and his mom shared with Tim. The fights. The sounds of screaming and crying. The fear he felt when Tim was drunk and angry, lurching at him to place a fiery cigarette end on his arm. Looking away quickly, he stared out over the pond as well, his heart beating erratically again but this time not in anticipation of something good. Keeping his breathing steady, he slowly shook his head before turning back.
She was staring at him, her eyes wide and her lips parted. “I’m sorry,” she rushed. “I seem to have struck a nerve.”
“No, don’t be sorry. Actually, I do have a place in my past that I’ve worked to forget.”
She leaned over and placed her hand on his, giving a little squeeze before pulling back. “And have you forgiven it?” Her voice was softer than normal, barely above a whisper.
Keeping his gaze steady on hers, he continued to shake his head. “Not really. I thought maybe I had, but it’s not a place I want to revisit.” Suddenly, the house on his old street that he had pondered purchasing and remodeling to rent no longer held any appeal. While it might have been a sound investment, their conversation made him realize that he had no desire to spend time in that place where bad memories were still very real.
Looking over at her, he asked, “And you?"
She sucked in her lips and held his gaze for a moment before turning to look back out over the park. “I think, like you, it has lessened with time, but it’s not a place I can say I have forgiven.”
They sat in silence for a moment
before he gave his head a little shake and asked, “I don’t suppose Mr. Dickens gave us a happier quote that we could talk about, did he?”
Laughing, she replied, “Oh, my God! You’re so right. That was a downer, and I certainly didn’t mean for our conversation to take that turn. Here, let me find a better one.” She began flipping through the book again before stopping on a page. “’He never thought that she saw in him what no one else could see. He never thought that in the whole world there were no other eyes that looked upon him with the same light and strength as hers.’ There. That one’s much better.”
He was silent for another minute, the words moving through him. He first thought of Miss Ethel and the way she looked at him. She did not see a scrawny runt, but a young boy in need of love and nurturing as well as a few good meals. Nodding, he smiled, “I like that one. It speaks to me also, but in a good way.”
A sad, wistful expression moved across her face. “I’m glad you have had that.”
Tilting his head to the side, he tried to peer deeply into the reason for her longing. “And you?”
She slanted her eyes toward him, her lips curving slightly. “I’m still waiting for someone to see me that way.”
Just then, the shouts of children captured their attention, and they both turned toward the pond, seeing a little boy chasing ducks into the water. Nearby were several geese, their large brown bodies and long necks showcased as they glided over the surface of the water. Another little girl had a handful of cracked corn that she was tossing into the water, the geese and the ducks battling over who would get the kernels.
Gathering his courage, he said, “I wanted to ask your name. I actually wanted to ask your name the first time we met, but I didn’t want you to feel as though I was pushing you for personal information that you didn’t want to share.”
Her face lit with the reflection of the sun and a smile that was even brighter. She reached across the space of the bench, her right hand extended and said, “I’m Penelope. It’s nice to meet you.”
Asher: Heroes at Heart Page 6
