25AshTiramisu
Ash
Tiramisu
They were eating at the Italian place around the corner from his condo because the documents from the Miller Project were strewn all over his dining room.
He was one red string away from looking like a serial killer-obsessed weirdo.
He was grateful that Romeo, recognizing the problem, had stepped in and made reservations.
Ash didn’t mind bribing his way into tables, but he hated inconveniencing the owner of Alberto’s just because Ash couldn’t remember to make a reservation.
And Harper deserved dinner that wasn’t Cup O’ Noodle, which was what he had in his cupboard.
“How did everything go today?” Harper asked.
“I made a lot of progress,” said Ash. “The research is compelling, but finding similar projects for comparables is proving challenging.”
Harper stared at him for a long second. “I meant with your mom.”
“Oh.” Ash shoved a piece of chicken across his plate. “Really great,” he said, then shook his head and confessed. “Not because of me, though. Chloe really made everything easy.” He looked up at her ruefully. “I think maybe I’ve been…”
Ash couldn’t find the words for the suspicion that he’d been wrong about Chloe.
“Kind of an asshole?” asked Harper.
“Well, I was going to say I misjudged her, but uh… OK.”
“Sorry,” said Harper, blushing.
“No, you’re probably right. But she’s so… I wouldn’t have thought she’d be somebody Forest would like. She’s so colorful and eccentric and weird.”
“Well, so am I,” said Harper hesitantly, “and you seem to like me. Why can’t you like her?”
“I do like her! But Forest and Rowan, they’ve always been… Rowan and Forest always made it clear when we were growing up that we had to fit in and be normal.”
“Yeah, well, I would have said the same thing. I’d have been afraid someone would call CPS.”
“What?” Ash didn’t understand what she meant, which was probably a bad sign. Harper always had a logical throughline. What was he missing?
“Your mom and her drinking? They were probably afraid that you’d get taken away if someone found out.”
Ash felt his mouth swing open, and he floundered for words.
“No! No. No?”
“I’m probably wrong,” said Harper. “I probably misunderstood.”
Ash was still staring. “You don’t misunderstand things,” he said at last.
“I have Harper Moments.”
“Yes, you sometimes miss things because you’re paying attention to other details, but you don’t misunderstand.”
And now Ash was forced to think that maybe it wasn’t Chloe he’d misunderstood—perhaps it was Forest. But that couldn’t be right.
“There they are!” said Alberto, coming by the table, his round belly covered in a white apron and carrying a decanted bottle of wine that he swirled as he walked. “I talked to Romeo. Don’t worry. I know what you need—more wine!”
Ash laughed. “I don’t know...”
“No, trust me, I know. Romeo says big family day, and that means wine.”
Harper laughed. “It does at my house, but I think Ash just needs more chocolate.”
Alberto topped up her wine glass with a wink. “One tiramisu coming up.”
“Well,” said Ash, “since you insist.” The idea of coffee-drenched chocolate and cake did sound appealing. Alberto laughed and made his way toward the kitchen.
Harper picked up her glass. “Actually, I used all of your oh, I forgot my glass techniques with my family. They kept trying to pour me more, but I couldn’t do it. Wine might be for when you get home after a big family day.”
“Oh,” said Ash. “I’m sorry.”
Harper looked confused.
“I only use those with people I don’t trust, and I don’t feel safe,” said Ash. “Is that how your family makes you feel?”
Harper made the face she usually made when she felt called out but didn’t know what to say. “They give me a headache,” she said at last. “It’s fine.” She added the last part in a rush.
“That’s not fine. I’m sorry.”
“Seattle is better,” she said, sounding desperate. “I’m fine.”
Ash took a second. Harper didn’t want to be pitied and felt uncomfortable talking about her family.
“Well, we are at sea level—we literally have more oxygen. So obviously, Seattle is better than Denver.”
Harper giggled, which was what he’d been hoping for, and reached for her glass again, but she frowned as she put it down.
“I do feel safe with you. Seattle really is better.”
Ash felt like she’d given him the biggest compliment of his life. He felt like the Grinch, with his heart growing to three times the size of his chest.
“And for that, I will feed you all my tiramisu.” It was a stupid joke, and he wished he hadn’t made it. He wished he’d said something heartfelt and meaningful.
Harper laughed and set down her napkin on the table. “No, you won’t. Because I’m going to run to the restroom, and even if I sat here the whole time, I still wouldn’t eat your weird coffee cake. I only like the mascarpone layers.”
“My cheese is all yours,” promised Ash as she stood up.
Ash sighed and sank down in his chair as Harper left the table. Why couldn’t he ever just say how he felt?
“You know what would make you feel better?” asked a soft voice, and Ash looked up at Emma.
As usual, she had an understated glamor.
Taller and thinner than Harper, with a more restrained style, he had always thought Emma stood out through simply being naturally beautiful.
Or at least as natural as money could make her appear.
He’d always felt too messy next to her—a slob who was being given the grace of her attendance.
“What you need is a strong whiskey and a night away,” said Emma. “We could pop over to Malibu. Taking a few days off wouldn’t hurt you.”
Ash could picture the sharp salt breeze off the beach and a pink-tinged sunset. It would be restful.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” said Ash, tucking away the Malibu idea for later. A weekend away with Harper would be perfect once he got through New Year’s and the Miller project.
“Ash,” said Emma sadly, sitting in Harper’s chair. “I know I screwed up, but how are we supposed to work through this if you won’t even talk to me?”
“Work through this? Emma! For fuck’s sake, you were...” He glanced around the restaurant. People knew him here. He didn’t want to discuss this in public. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You were ripping me off!”
“OK, I get that now, but I really didn’t think that’s what I was doing!” said Emma.
Ash paused. “What?”
“Daddy does stuff like this all the time.”
He had no trouble believing that. Emma’s father, on the few occasions they had met, had put Ash in mind of frat boy cheese. It was as if whatever culture had initially gone into the man had solidified down to a hard rind and a vaguely unpleasant smell.
“And you always said to give people investment packets. I just didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”
“Emma, please. You had to know the difference between proprietary information and information I hand out. You went behind my back and got the information off my computer.”
“I knew you wouldn’t like it, but you always get anxious about new people. You overthink everything. I thought I was helping.”
Ash didn’t have a response for that. She was right. He did get anxious. He did overthink. Or he never thought at all. Was it possible that she really had thought she was helping?
“You know I always try to take care of you,” said Emma.
That was true. Emma had always…
“How?” asked Ash.
“What?”
“How have you taken care of me?”
It was Emma’s turn to stare. “I help you achieve your goals,” she said at last. “You always said you wanted to be more sophisticated, and I help with that.”
“Right. You picked out my clothes. Tried to stop me from buying a blue couch.”
“Yes,” said Emma, nodding and looking relieved. “Exactly.”
“Reminded me to eat when I’ve been working all day. Oh, wait, that’s Romeo.”
“Well, you do pay him to be your assistant. Although, I wish you would get some who wasn’t quite so, you know, round. Has he thought about Ozempic?”
“You don’t like Mel either.”
“That’s not fair! It’s not that I don’t like her!
Call me old- fashioned if you want, but I don’t like that you work with Mel day in and day out.
Although, I guess the monogamous ship has sailed a bit since you’ve been palling around with that obnoxious little brunette.
Honestly, Ash. Couldn’t you find someone a little more tasteful?
I know you want to look like you’ve moved on, but who will believe you’ve gone from me to her and are happy about it? ”
“Me,” said Harper. “And Mel’s pronouns are they-them.”
Ash looked up at Harper, who was standing next to the table. Her emerald green sweater stood out in sharp contrast to Emma’s gray clothes. He saw Emma’s eyes running over the top and felt angry on Harper’s behalf. Harper’s color choices weren’t garish—they were interesting and stylish.
“Oh, who cares what she calls herself,” snapped Emma. “Her name is Melanie Winebaum. She’s a smart girl from Wisconsin trying to make herself more interesting than she really is. Something I’m sure you understand.”
“I do,” said Harper. “That’s why I use their preferred pronouns.”
Ash wanted to laugh. Harper was so freaking cool.
“Emma,” said Ash, “I appreciate your attempt at an apology, but we’re not getting back together. Also, I’m probably going to paint my dining room green.”
“Ash, you’re not going to achieve your goals like this. You’re going to regret this.”
“And tiramisuuuuuu… merda.” Alberto stood by the table, plate extended, eyes flicking between the three of them.
Emma looked pale under her perfectly matched foundation, and her nostrils flared angrily.
For a moment, Ash thought Emma might scream at him or do something violent.
Instead, she rose gracefully to her feet.
“We’ll talk later. When you don’t have so many hangers-on around,” she said, her tone tight and cold. They all watched her walk out, and Alberto’s gusty sigh when she reached the front door spoke for all of them.
“Are we sure no wine?” asked Alberto.
“I want to go home,” said Harper without sitting down.
“Si,” said Alberto. “Si. I put tiramisu in a box. Ash will take you home.”
Ash held Harper’s hand as they walked home, but he was at a loss for words.
“She used to misgender Mel all the time, and I never said anything,” he said at last. “I didn’t want to fight about it.”
“It’s worth fighting about,” said Harper.
“A lot of stuff was worth fighting about, and I never said anything. She used to say that Forest should have sent Olly to his grandparents after Vera died.”
Harper drew in a sharp breath of shock.
“I really thought I needed her so I could be the right kind of person.”
“I’m never going to be the right kind of person,” said Harper, stopping in her tracks. “Neither is Chloe. That’s why you hate her.”
“I don’t hate her,” protested Ash. “I think I hate myself.”
“What?”
“You, me, Chloe. We are colorful weirdos in a beige world. We don’t act the same. We don’t think the same. If I’m mad at Chloe, it’s because she seems to be getting away with it, and I’m not.”
Harper looked distressed. “Am I getting away with it? I don’t know what that means.”
“Harper, no offense, but you and I are masking the fuck out of ourselves. We work so hard to fit in. Don’t you get tired?”
“Yes, but that’s why Seattle is better. Work is great. They have quiet rooms and work-from-home days, and D-Boss says fidget toys are a work expense. I can just do work at work and not spend extra time on people. I can spend all my social energy on you. I go to parties and actually have fun now!”
Ash nodded. “You don’t make fun of me for talking too fast.”
“I hate that! It’s OK to be excited about things!”
“Or for changing topics abruptly in the middle of a conversation. I think I need to stop listening to anything Emma said and start being myself.”
Harper suddenly went up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
“Yes, please,” she said.
Ash laughed. “My cheese really is all yours. You are so freaking cool.”