Chapter 5 - Asher
Ileft the baseball game feeling lighter than I had in ages.
Micah and I had reconnected in a way I hadn’t expected.
I hadn’t realized how much I missed having him in my life until he was back.
The day following the game, about a week before production started, he invited me to hang out after dinner.
Micah: Hey, do you want to come by? Kieran and I are watching old reno shows to get a feel for what we want to do differently. You’re welcome to join us.
I was touched that he’d invited me. I didn’t know that it would be great research for me—not in that way, anyway—but I wanted to take advantage of the offer to spend more time with him, too.
Asher: Address?
He responded quickly, and I was relieved to see it was close by.
Asher: Be there in ten.
I slipped on my sneakers and headed out to my truck before making my way across town to the house Micah was sharing with the interior designer, Kieran, for the duration of filming. I found myself feeling strangely anxious as I walked up the front steps and knocked on their door.
“Come in,” a voice called. “It’s unlocked.”
I tentatively grabbed the knob and pushed the door open. A guy—Kieran, presumably—was sitting on the couch, his socked feet propped against the coffee table, a bottle of beer in one hand.
He leaned forward when I came in. “Asher?” When I nodded, he turned to yell down the hallway. “Micah, your date is here.”
Heat burned on my face. Had Micah called this a date? Was it a date?
“Fuck you, too, Kier,” Micah’s voice shouted back from the end of the hallway.
“You know you love me.”
Micah came down the hallway then, stopping when he spotted me. “Sorry about him. He’s feral.”
I shrugged and shook my head. “It’s fine. He’s no worse than Jackson.”
Kieran perked up, eyebrows raised. “Jackson?”
“Down, boy,” Micah muttered. “Can I get you anything? Beer? Wine?”
“A beer would be great.”
Micah nodded. “Be right back. Kieran, behave.” He shot a glare at his friend who just chuckled and shrugged.
Uncertainly, I sat on the far end of the couch from Kieran. I didn’t want to take a seat that was claimed or anything, but I didn’t want to stand there awkwardly waiting for Micah to bring me a drink, either. I put my hands in my lap and fidgeted with my fingers a little.
“So, you’re a carpenter?” Kieran prompted.
“Yep.”
“That means you’re good with wood and power tools. Right?”
“Kieran,” Micah shouted. “I told you to behave.” A moment later, he was back, a bottle in each hand and passing one to me.
I chuckled and shook my head with a smile. “There’s always going to be one.”
Micah picked up the remote and turned the show on. Just as he started to sit in the overstuffed armchair next to the couch, Kieran hopped up.
“You sit here. I know how that chair hurts your… back. Right? Your back hurts when you sit there, doesn’t it?” His eyes were wide as he looked at Micah, eyebrows raised.
Micah sighed and sat on the couch, shaking his head. “Something like that.”
The show started and I watched quietly, listening to Micah and Kieran comment about the different aspects of design that had been employed.
“That’s certainly a choice,” Micah muttered as the camera panned over the wallpaper that the interior designer had selected.
“I don’t hate it,” Kieran countered.
They turned to me. “Be the tiebreaker,” Micah said. “What do you think?”
I frowned, my brow dipping low as I stared at the TV screen trying to formulate an intelligent opinion. “I don’t… I mean, it’s fine, I guess.”
“What does that mean?” Kieran prodded.
“It’s just… the colors are a lot.” The wallpaper was orange and pink wavy lines with red in the middle, which I guess was in style at some point but to me it just looked like, well…
“It’s vagina wallpaper,” Micah pointed out. “The pattern is clearly meant to look like vaginas.”
“That’s not a thing. People do not have vagina wallpaper,” Kieran argued.
With a laugh, Micah shot back. “Okay, Georgia O’Keeffe.”
Kieran sighed and flopped back against his chair, looking defeated.
“It’s very sixties,” Micah continued. “This whole design is supposed to be contemporary, not mid-century modern.”
“Fine, but I like it,” Kieran said eventually.
Micah laughed. “Of course you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kieran asked indignantly.
Micah shrugged and put on an innocent look. “Don’t ask me.”
“You’re the one who said it.”
Micah smirked at him. “All I meant was, you seem to have an awfully long streak of hooking up with women these days.”
Kieran shook his head and sipped his beer, glowering at Micah before turning to me. “You couldn’t just say you liked it, could you?”
“You wanted me to lie?” I asked.
Kieran shrugged and sipped his beer again. After a moment of silence, he put his mostly empty bottle down. “You know what? I’m going to bed. You two deserve each other.” He sniffed and stood.
“Aw, Kier,” Micah said in a placating tone. “Don’t be like that. If you’re going to bed, at least take your bottle to the trash first.”
Kieran flipped Micah off and grabbed his bottle from the table.
“You’re lucky I love you.” He fixed me with his gaze.
“You, on the other hand, are on thin ice.” Without another word, he took his bottle to the kitchen.
There was a clatter as he tossed it in the trash and then his footsteps retreated down the hallway.
I had been silent for most of the exchange and looked at Micah, my chest a little tight. Had I just caused a fight?
“Don’t worry,” Micah assured me. “That was all for show.”
I raised one eyebrow. “It was?”
He laughed softly. “Kieran was looking for a reason to get out of studying. I’m sure of it.” He turned so his back was against the arm of the couch and his feet were tucked under him. “Want to watch something else? You’re not obligated to study with me, if you don’t want to.”
“No, I don’t mind. Whatever is fine. I don’t watch a lot of TV, to be honest.”
“No?”
I shrugged. “I’m boring. I watch a lot of sports.”
“Everyone likes what they like,” he said softly. Somehow, the words felt heavier than they sounded. My stomach did a strange little twist.
“That they do.”
We held each other’s gazes for a few moments before Micah inhaled sharply and turned away. “Let’s watch another one then.” He pressed play on the remote and a second episode came on. “Tell me about what you do.”
I shrugged. “You already know what I do.”
“Yeah, but… like, tell me about a day on the job site with you.”
“It’s really not interesting. But… I get to the job and check in with the foreman.”
“Jake, right?”
“Yeah. He’ll probably have a list of things he wants to accomplish each day. Or at least a running list of to-dos. He’s a great project manager. Anything that involves wood, I’ll handle it.”
Micah snorted.
“Don’t start,” I said dryly. My body heated at the joke once again. “So top to bottom that includes framing, installation and repair, detail work, and finishing. Trusses to cabinets to flooring.”
“Flooring too? I would’ve thought someone else did that.”
“Sometimes. But if it’s wood flooring, it’s usually me. Tile or something, that’s a different story. I’m definitely not a tile guy. Those guys have to have a delicate touch so they don’t break expensive tile pieces. Two by fours aren’t nearly as fragile.”
Micah took a sip of his beer just then, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Right. Noted.”
Desperate to change the subject to anything other than wood, I glanced at Micah and blurted out the first thing I could think of. “How are your parents?”
“My parents?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Just curious.”
“They’re… fine. We don’t really keep in contact much anymore.”
“Because they shipped you to Vermont?”
“No… well, not entirely. I guess that’s part of it, even though I do believe it was the best thing for me. They don’t love my choice to work in set design. They don’t understand my sexuality. There’s a lot about me that still causes them headaches.”
“They’re not okay with you being pan?”
He half shrugged and sipped his drink again. “I don’t think it’s that they have a problem with it. I think they just think it’s… I don’t know, me being wild again. They keep expecting me to settle down with ‘a nice girl’ someday.” He made air quotes around “a nice girl.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. It’s not my favorite thing about them, that’s for sure.”
“So you don’t talk to them then?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m no contact. Just low contact, if that makes sense.
I call once a month or so, let them know I’m still alive, that sort of thing.
That’s about it. Like I mentioned, they moved to Vermont to be near my grandparents a few years ago, and I don’t really get the opportunity to visit often. ”
I frowned and sipped from my own bottle of beer. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“You didn’t know.” We were quiet for a moment before Micah stood again. “Can I get you anything? Another beer?”
“Nah. I need to be able to drive home.”
He nodded. “Smart. I’ll be right back.” Micah disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and when he returned, he had a fresh beer bottle in his hand. “Okay, you ready to watch one more?” His tone was light and I wanted to keep his mood up.
“Let’s do it.”