Chapter 25
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
Ash
Snowflakes were falling softly when Ash woke on Christmas morning. Unless a nor’easter was predicted, they rarely got much accumulation along the coast, so he wasn’t too worried. But he’d check the forecast on his tablet while he had his coffee and some toast. Just a light breakfast for him this morning since Christmas brunch was a big deal at Mom’s house—although that was still a couple of hours away.
He wondered how Ker was doing at home. He wasn’t overly religious but still said a quick prayer that all was going well for him.
After confirming that the meteorologists were predicting just a light dusting of snow for the area, he trimmed his beard, well, scruff as his mom liked to call it, and showered. Now to dress. Christmas at Mom’s meant ugly holiday sweaters, and he’d searched far and wide on the internet for something special this year. He’d located a doozy. The sweater itself was black and had a colorful stocking on the front, with a reindeer’s head sticking out. There were tiny presents up and down the arms and even a set of lights with a battery pack hidden in the stocking! He and his brothers always got competitive with this, so he wanted to go all out this time.
He paired the sweater with black jeans and red-and-green striped socks. Let’s see one of my brothers top my look this year!
When he got to Muriel’s, he hung up his coat and carried the bag of gifts into the living room to place them under the tree. He heard voices in the sunroom and was greeted by Finn and Clay along with his mom.
“Jeez, bruh, you really went all out this year!” Finn exclaimed, eyeing his sweater. Finn and Clay wore matching sweaters featuring weird cats, appearing to be singing Christmas carols. They were certainly somewhere on the ugly scale but no competition for Ash’s monstrosity.
Ash slipped a finger into the stocking to flip a switch, and the lights twinkled all over the sweater. Muriel laughed brightly and hugged him tightly.
“Pretty sure this one’s gonna win this year, son,” she said, giggling.
Court and Mitch soon arrived, and they showed off their sweaters to the rest of the family. Court’s was a hideous green with a moose on the front, sparkly ornaments hanging from its antlers, and Mitch wore a bright-yellow sweater festooned with a fireplace, its mantel dripping with garland. Sure, both were squarely in the realm of ugly, but they all agreed that Ash had outdone them all this year.
Competition over, they sat together at the dining table and ate lots of food, drank mimosas, then moved to the living room, where they opened gifts as was the tradition in the Reynolds household. The afternoon turned into an open house of sorts, with a few friends stopping by. There was also a buffet of assorted appetizers set up in the dining room along with a self-serve bar of beer, wine, soft drinks, and water.
The snow had stopped by one o’clock, and at one point, Ash stepped out onto the patio outside the sunroom. He needed a break from peopling and took the opportunity to text Ker a quick “Merry Christmas.”
He heard noises at the door behind him and turned to see Mitch.
“Texting Ker?” he asked.
“Yeah. He wasn’t looking forward to going home for Christmas this year. I hope everything’s going okay.”
“Are his folks not supportive of him ’cause he likes guys?”
“Actually, that’s not the problem. They expect him to quit his job and move back to Fitchburg. His dad owns a small chain of grocery stores and wants Ker to take it over. But Ker’s told them on more than one occasion that it’s not what he wants to do. His dad just doesn’t seem to get it.”
“Well, that sucks. I’m glad he’s got you in his corner,” Mitch said sincerely.
“Thanks, bro.”
“I guess we should go back in.”
Ash wasn’t too concerned when he didn’t hear from Ker right after he sent the text. Since he wasn’t exactly sure what time Ker and his family would eat or exchange gifts, it could be somewhat hectic there.
When he got home, he placed the tiny plastic Best Ugly Holiday Sweater trophy on the kitchen island and trod upstairs to bed. None of his brothers had come close to the splendor of his sweater.
He undressed and slipped under the covers, thinking he’d text Ker again in the morning to see how everything was.
It was almost eight thirty when Ash woke up. He rarely ever slept that late, but evidently he needed the rest. A quick check of his phone showed no response from Ker, so he sent another text.
Just checking in. Hope all is ok. Call me if U can.
He got up, threw on some sweatpants and a long-sleeved tee, and went down to make breakfast. When he still hadn’t heard anything from Ker by lunchtime, he started to panic.
He did an online search to try to locate a phone number for Ker’s parents but found nothing. Trading the sweats for a pair of jeans, he drove to the police station to see if he would have better luck using the department’s resources. It might not be totally legal, but he was really concerned about Ker’s well-being at that point.
After a few minutes on his work computer, he found the number.
“Hello?” A woman answered once he’d completed the call.
“Mrs. Jennings?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“My name is Ashton Reynolds. I’m a friend of Ker’s. I know he was going home for Christmas this year, and I’ve texted him a few times but haven’t heard from him. Is he there?”
“I’m sorry, but he’s not. He was here yesterday, but it seems he left suddenly last night.”
The bottom fell out of Ash’s stomach.
“Do you know where he went?”
“I don’t.” She stopped, but Ash sensed she wanted to say more, so he waited. After a moment, she began speaking again. “May I ask you a question, Mr. Reynolds?”
“Of course. And please, call me Ash.”
“Okay, Ash. Ker mentioned that he had started seeing someone lately. Someone special, he said. Might you be that someone?”
“Yes, Mrs. Jennings, I am.”
“That’s what I thought. Something about the concern in your voice. So I’ll tell you, Ker and his father had an awful argument yesterday after we ate dinner. They both said terrible and hateful things. They’ve argued before but never that strongly. I was actually frightened. Ker stormed out of the house and was gone for over an hour.”
“I understand, Mrs. Jennings. Ker told me about some of the disagreements he’s had with his dad about the stores.”
“Please, call me Irene,” she said. “I’ll admit, I usually try not to get between them when they start in like that. I’ve learned over the years that it’s best not to disagree with my husband when he gets something stuck in his head. But yesterday, he went too far. I finally managed to get my Walter into bed, and I think I heard Ker come back home, but then I fell asleep. When I got up this morning, he was gone. I’ve tried calling him, but it goes right to voicemail.”
“Thank you for telling me all of this, Irene. I’m gonna see what I can do on this end.”
“Please find my son, Ash,” she pleaded.
“I promise, Irene. With all my heart.”
Ash drove to Ker’s house. Based on what Irene had told him, he could picture Ker snapping after the blowout with his dad. He could imagine Ker getting desperate and seeking out the one thing that he thought would make it better. Pills. Dammit all to hell.
He pounded on Ker’s door, and getting no response, reached into his pocket. He’d slipped the key in there, hoping he wouldn’t need to use it for this purpose but glad he’d had the foresight to bring it.
He was met with complete silence when he walked in, but something told him he wasn’t alone. No one was in the kitchen or living room. He walked to the bedroom and saw Ker in a crumpled heap, lying on his stomach on the bed.
Years of training kicked in, and he immediately checked Ker’s pulse. Slow but definitely there. He was completely limp when Ash turned him over. His breathing was shallow, and when Ash pried open an eye, the pupil was tiny, and his skin was cold to the touch.
He shook Ker by the shoulders, trying to rouse him. When that didn’t work, he slapped his face, desperate to get a response.
After a few moments of shaking him and calling his name, Ker croaked, “Wha …? Lemme alone.”
“Ker, wake up!” Ash shouted. “What did you take?” He looked around and spotted a bag of white pills on the nightstand next to a bottle of water.
“I’m all n-nice and fl-floaty,” Ker slurred. “At least the fuckin’ voices st-stopped.”
Ash counted twenty pills, but not knowing how many Ker had started with, he wasn’t sure exactly how many Ker had swallowed.
“Hey,” Ash said gently, “how about we go to the hospital and get you fixed up?”
“No. Wanna st-stay floaty,” Ker whispered. “Why are you h-h-here?” He tried to pull away. “I’m a fuckup. I’m worthless. You c-c-can do better.”
“Because I love you, you sweet man,” Ash said, finally admitting what he had known for a while now. “Yeah, you may have fucked up, but you’re not a fuckup. And I’m gonna help you get better. Will you let me do that?”
“L-love you, too, but I’m w-worthless.” Ker shook his head and sobbed. “Dad h-hates me. How can you love me?” His words still slurred a bit, but he was definitely talking better than he had at first.
Ash stuffed the bag of pills into his coat pocket, then hauled Ker up and sat him on the side of the bed. He got shoes onto him as well as his coat and helped him get to the car. It was a challenge, as Ker was barely able to bear his own weight. It was like trying to wrangle a bag of limp noodles.
He drove to the nearest emergency room. Ash explained the situation to the nurse at the front desk, and Ker was admitted for observation. They suspected an opioid overdose, but based on the information that Ash had provided, they concluded his withdrawal might not be too severe as he’d only been taking the drugs for roughly twelve hours.
Ker had been lucid enough to tell the staff that Ash was the only visitor he wanted, so that was noted on his record. Once Ker was settled, Ash phoned Irene to give her an update.
“Thank you so much for finding him, Ash,” Irene said, her voice quivering, once Ash explained the situation.
“No problem, Irene. I’ll take care of him. We’ll get through this together.”
“I don’t know how to thank you,” she replied.
“No need. You see, I love him, so I’ll do everything I can to help him get better.”