Asher: A Second Chance Novel (4 page)

“Where’s Dad?” It was Sunday afternoon, almost two weeks after Asher’s mother had announced her diagnosis. He had gone out for a run in the morning and when he got back, his mother was making breakfast and simultaneously cleaning the kitchen.

“He went out. Do you want waffles?”

Asher walked into the kitchen and took the orange juice out of the fridge. He thought about drinking it from the carton but one look from his mother and he walked over and took a glass from the cabinet.

“Mom, you don’t have to make me breakfast.”

“I always make you breakfast on Sunday mornings.”

He poured the O.J. and leaned against the counter as he drank it. “I know, but.” His voice trailed off. He didn’t want to say it out loud.

She put down her spatula and wiped her hands on her apron. Turning towards her son she said, “We weren’t going to change the way we do things around here, remember?”

“I’m just worried about you wearing yourself out. Don’t you need rest or something?”

She smiled. “We have a full staff if I do. I’m only making breakfast sweetheart, not running a marathon. I love making breakfast for my boys on Sunday morning.”

He raised an eyebrow. “One of your ‘boys’ seems to be MIA a lot lately. What’s going on with Dad?”

She sighed. “He’s having a hard time with this, Asher. We just have to be patient and supportive.”

Asher had noticed his father drinking a lot more over the past week. He also noticed that he was barely around. It was really pissing him off. His mother was going to work every day and if Asher was at football practice or a game or with Mia, she was left alone until all hours of the night. He would hear his father come in late at night and stagger up the stairs. She didn’t need to be alone all the time and she sure as hell didn’t need to have to sleep with a drunk every night. “You’re the one we need to be supporting, Mom. He should be here for you.”

She put her hand on the side of his face. “He’s here as much as he can be,” she said.

“What do you mean? He has barely been here all week.”

She smiled. “I mean emotionally, Asher. He just needs some time to adjust. Now, do you want one waffle or two?” He didn’t want to argue with her. He resolved to talk to his father when he caught up with him instead.

“One,” he said. He wasn’t hungry, but she wasn’t going to be happy unless he let her do something for him. He sat down at the table and as she made the waffle she asked him, “So how is Mia?”

He looked up at her, shocked. He hadn’t told her that he and Mia had been spending time together. Since that Friday night ‘date’ at the park in the week since they had spent as much time together as they could manage. They had been discreet about it at first, having lunch together at school and picnics in the park. He had taken her to the county fair one town over on Saturday night and they had a great time riding the rides and playing games. She had taken home a small menagerie of stuffed animals. But as far as he knew Travis was the only one in either family who knew about it. His mother was smiling at him. “She’s good,” he finally said. “Um. How did you know?”

She laughed. “I’m a Mom. I know everything.”

“Oh.”

She brought his waffle over and slipped it onto his plate. She handed him the butter and syrup and sat down next to him. “She’s a very pretty girl.” Asher was spreading butter on his waffle. He felt his face go flush. “How does Travis feel about you two dating?”

“He’s coming around,” Asher said. Travis had been supportive but at the same time Asher could tell he was still working on adjusting to the changes in their relationship.

“How do you feel about it?” He asked.

“Does she make you happy?” His mother asked him.

“Yeah. I mean it’s only been two weeks, but yeah. She makes me want to smile all the damn time.”

Lily smiled broader and said, “Don’t cuss. But as far as being happy, keep doing that. From the first moment I held you in my arms; it’s all I ever wanted for you.”

He swallowed a huge lump in his throat and said, “The way that you and Dad feel about the Halloways. I wasn’t sure.”

“You know after all of these years I have never really figured out what it is any of us have against each other. Some people just rub you the wrong way, for no particular reason and I guess that’s what it is with us and them. But I have always liked Travis and he has always been welcome here. I see Mia at church every week and she is always sweet and polite. And now I hear she makes my son happy. What more could I ask for?”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She laughed and stood up. “Thank you.” she said. “Thank you for being so strong and going on with your life the way I asked you to. It makes me happy. Finish your breakfast now and get ready for church.”

“Is Dad going to church with us?”

“I don’t think he’ll make it today. But maybe you and I can have lunch at the Outpost afterwards. Why don’t you ask Mia to join us?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Asher forced himself to take a bite of the waffle. Once he swallowed it he said, “Mom. Can I ask you a question?” She must have sensed the serious tone. She put down the dishtowel and gave him her full attention.

“Anything,” she said.

“I know you like to go to church and you believe in God, but I was just wondering. Aren’t you angry with him?”

She walked back over to the table and sat down again. Laying her hand on top of his she said softly, “For centuries people have questioned if he’s so great and benevolent why there is death and disease. The truth is until we get a chance to meet Him and ask him those questions, we’ll never know. My theory however, based on everything I have been taught and everything I have seen in my forty-four years of life is that He is doing his best. He has billions of people to look after. It can’t be easy. But I believe with all my heart that He loves us and that He will do whatever he can to guide us through this. His role is pretty close to what yours is. He is there to listen to me when I need to talk and He is there to lend a hand when I need it…but most of all He is there to love me and between His love and the love I feel in this home from you and your Dad. I feel like I can do anything.”

“Then beat this.” Asher hadn’t meant to say that, it just slipped out. He couldn’t help but be bothered by the fact that she had just accepted the doctor’s prognosis and she didn’t talk about beating it. Asher was born with a competitive spirit. He had been a fighter from the day he had out of the womb. He wanted her to fight.

“Some things my competitive son, you can’t beat. You have to make adjustments and changes and keep moving forward the best you can, but you also have to accept that some things are stronger than us. Please don’t take that as me giving up. I’m not doing that. I’ll do everything the doctor asks me to do and I’ll keep my hope that those things will extend my life. But in the meantime, I have to make sure that my family is going to be okay when or if the worst happens. I want you and your father to have time to prepare for this so the shock of it doesn’t stop you in your tracks. Me accepting this doesn’t mean I’m giving up honey, okay?”

Asher nodded. He had always adored his mother. But he had never really thought of her as strong. As a young boy he had assumed the strength was his father’s role. He was realizing now just how wrong he had been. His mother was stronger than all of them put together, and he feared the glue that was holding everything together was slowly unravelling. What if it all fell apart when she was gone? What would they do then?

Asher was in a great mood. It was Friday night and he was taking Mia out for dinner. He had made reservations at a nice restaurant in Raton, a small town not far from them. The restaurant was Mulligan’s and it served Mexican and American food. He bought a new shirt for the occasion and was just buttoning it up when he heard a commotion in the hallway. His parents were still at work as far as he knew and none of the staff were usually in the house past six. Curious but not alarmed yet, he opened his bedroom door. He saw the large figure of his father, crumpled on the floor next to the master bedroom.

“Dad? Are you okay? What happened?” Asher rushed over to him and as soon as he got within a foot of him he smelled the booze. The strong odor of the stale whiskey made his stomach turn. “You’re drunk?” He already knew it…but he still posed it as a question. He should have been at work or at least just getting home from work.

He looked up at his son. His eyes were bloodshot and the front of his shirt was stained. As a matter of fact his clothes were wrinkled like he had slept in them. He had a red mark along the side of the face that looked like it was going to turn into a bruise, probably from hitting the wall just now.

“Asher.”

The sound of his name on his father’s drunken lips pissed him off more. “What the hell are you doing? Mom will be home soon. You can’t let her see you like this!”

His father leaned forward and at first Asher wondered if he was going to pass out. He realized then that his father was trying to use his arms to push himself up off the floor. With a disgusted sigh Asher slid his arm under his father’s and pulled him to his feet. He teetered slightly and then pressed his palm to the wall to steady himself. “You reek! Why weren’t you at work?” It suddenly dawned on Asher that he hadn’t seen his father since maybe Wednesday. He had thought they were missing each other, but from the looks of it, he hadn’t showered or changed clothes in days.

His father looked at him again like he was trying hard to focus on his son’s face. “Watch the way you talk to me,” he shot. Asher wasn’t one to disrespect his parents. As an only child he always had a close relationship with them both. He had been raised to be respectful and polite but it was hard to feel anything but contempt for his father in his current state.

He took another deep breath and said, “You need to get in the shower before Mom gets home.” He was still holding onto his father’s arm. He jerked it away from Asher and pushed open the bedroom door. Asher stood in the doorway and watched as his father stumbled across the room towards the mini-bar. “Are you fucking kidding me? I hope you don’t think you’re going to have another drink.”

His dad ignored him and pulled out a bottle of scotch. Asher completely lost it. All of the emotions he had been holding back since the day his mother told him she was dying pushed through all at once, ignited by his disgust for the way his father was handling things. He flew across the room in a rage and jerked the bottle out of his father’s hands.

“What the hell are you doing?” His father bellowed.

“I’m keeping my mother from having to come home and see the cowardly drunk she married.” His dad did something then that in nearly eighteen years of Asher’s young life had never seen him do. He took a swing at his son. His coordination was off from the alcohol and Asher easily dodged it. The intent had been real however and it only fuelled Asher’s anger. He pushed his father and he stumbled back into the wall. His dad was looking at him with shock on his face. Asher had never even considered putting his hands on his father before, but this was too much. Even knowing that the stress and the helplessness he felt over his mother’s illness was causing him to drink held little water as far as Asher was concerned. He always looked up to his father and the man he saw in front of him today was not the man he knew at all.

“You’re the CEO of a respected company. What the hell are your employees and your customers going to think if they see you somewhere like this? If you won’t clean-up for Mom, the person you should, at least think about the business you will lose when people in this little town start figuring out you’re a damn drunk.”

Asher stepped close to his father and this time he didn’t make any move to strike him or fight him. Putting his hand on his dad’s arm he led him into the bathroom and turned on the shower. “I’m going to make you some strong, black coffee and you’re going to drink it and sober up before mom gets home.” He turned and left him standing there. He wasn’t sure if he even had time to clean him up before his mom got home, but he was going to damned sure try.

When the coffee was ready he took the cup of black steaming liquid upstairs and was surprised to see that his dad had actually showered. Asher noticed that he had a three days growth of beard and said, “Sit down and drink this. We’re going to clean up your face. Where does mom think you’ve been?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Asher was tempted to slap him in the back of the head. “She has to be freaking out.”

“I called her.” He looked like he was about to fall asleep. Asher shoved the mug in his hand and wrapped his fingers around it.

“Drink!” he ordered as he started lathering up his father’s face. Asher had never shaved anyone but himself, but half-assing it would be better than nothing. As his father sipped the coffee, Asher shaved the black and gray peppered stubble off of his face. His father sat still like a child or a mental patient, Asher thought. Twenty minutes and only two nicks later, his father looked human again almost. Asher went to the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He tossed them on the bed and said, “Get dressed. I’ll get you another cup of coffee.”

“I don’t want any more coffee!”

Asher turned and looked at him with his intense green eyes. “Too fucking bad,” he said.