Chapter Fifteen
Assa
Assa stood at the counter of the tiny kitchenette in his father’s room. The assisted living facility had two separate wings for residents based on the level of care required. For now, Papa resided in the section for those who could mostly handle their own needs, so his room included more amenities.
After making a dozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Assa stacked them carefully in the small fridge. Although he’d lived there for two years, his father still had no friends and hated eating in the communal dining area.
“Alright, Papa. There are enough here to last you a week. There are also grapes and apples, and I put some of those crackers you like on the shelf.”
Seated stiffly in his recliner, Papa snuffled. He had a cold that had lasted the better part of a month. The nurse told Assa over the phone yesterday that he was also struggling to handle some of his basic hygiene. He’d need to move to the other section of the facility soon.
Assa squeezed his eyes shut, dreading the conversation. But that was a problem for future Assa. Current-day Assa wouldn’t be seeing his father for a while.
“I don’t see why you have to be gone for a month,” Papa said. “That’s some ungrateful bullshit, is what that is. I’m still your father.”
Assa raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to tell me you’ll miss me?”
“’Course not,” Papa sputtered. “I’m just saying…”
Assa took it as a win that his father couldn’t think up an insult to finish the sentence. A few years ago, he would have replied with some razor-sharp jab.
Papa was annoyed that Assa hadn’t given him a specific reason for his planned absence, only a vague explanation that he had family matters to attend to.
But that obtuse answer would have to be enough. Assa did not intend to enlighten him, since Papa would undoubtedly have plenty of negative things to say if he knew the real reason.
Assa had promised Wes that, for the next month, his sole focus would be on the adoption process. They had meetings set up with several agencies, and each had reported promising prospects for the couple.
Wes had been concerned about Assa balancing those obligations with visits to his father, and the potential for Jeral to level him with one of his bad moods or insults.
Assa agreed that Papa could survive without his company for a while, and that this phase of the process—although stressful—should be a joyful time for them to navigate without commentary from his asshole father.
“I’ll be back soon enough,” Assa said. “And the nurses will call if there’s an emergency.”
Papa hmphed as he slumped into his chair. “At least I won’t have to listen to your boring work stories.”
Assa rolled his eyes. His father had been a lineman and was suspicious of any white-collar profession.
Assa had asked him multiple times what he thought the world would do without doctors and lawyers and bankers.
Papa stubbornly stuck to his belief that men who didn’t work with their hands were weak, no matter their gender.
He never wanted to hear about Assa’s job at the university.
Earlier, Assa tried talking to him about the genetics project he was working on.
Papa had pretended to snore. So Assa put on an old western, and they watched without conversing until he got up to make the sandwiches.
On balance, it wasn’t an awful visit. His father’s barbs had been minimal, half-hearted at best. Assa supposed it was a sign that his dad was slowing down. But if Papa’s decline made him easier to be around, he would take the silver lining.
After saying goodbye and receiving a surly “whatever” in reply, Assa left. But instead of going directly to the parking lot, he walked to the other side of the facility, where the residents who required continuous care lived.
The last time he visited this part of the building was when he’d signed his father’s intake paperwork. It was strange to think that Papa would need to live here soon.
These corridors were quieter. The muffled sounds of TVs on low volume drifted into the hallways along with the beeping of monitors.
There was a large common room, anchored by a fireplace and furnished with couches, tables, and chairs. A frail-looking alpha and an equally delicate omega sat at the only occupied table, conversing over mugs of tea. Both were in wheelchairs.
Assa recalled from his original tour that most of the residents on this side dealt with mobility issues, and many were confined to their rooms. He wondered how long before that would be his father.
The incongruity of contemplating his parent’s end-of-life situation while planning to start a family with his husband did not escape him.
He walked toward the lobby, heading for the exit. But as he passed, the elderly couple waved at him.
Assa paused, then waved back.
The alpha gestured for Assa to sit with them.
“Are you okay, son?” the man asked, his voice rough and weathered. “You look a little lost.”
It had been a long time since someone had called Assa son with any degree of genuine concern. He swallowed down the tightness in his throat.
“Not lost. Just sort of picturing what it will be like when my father moves here. He lives on the other side now, but the time to transition is getting close.”
“Ah,” the omega said in a whisper-soft voice, folding his hands on the table.
“Yes. It can be scary for families, but I assure you we do quite well here.” He motioned toward the alpha.
“My husband and I moved from the other side about a year ago, once we both needed wheelchairs. It’s never easy getting older, facing reality if you will, but this place provides a gentle landing. ”
“Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I imagine I’ll always feel a little guilty, but it helps.”
The omega shook his head slightly. “Don’t feel guilty. This is simply the way of things. Besides, your father probably feels bad too.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s an alpha?” the alpha asked.
“Yes.”
“Then he probably worries about being a burden on you.”
“Maybe,” Assa hedged, doubting very much that his father cared about that.
“Families can be tricky,” the omega said.
“Things never quite work out the way you plan.” His kind eyes darkened, taking on a faraway stare.
“Our son passed away a few months ago…” The alpha rubbed a hand across his shoulders.
“Cancer. It was quick, mercifully. But now we find ourselves in another province, far from our grandchildren. When we retired from our bakery and moved here, we thought our lives would be full of travel and relaxation. We never expected to get old so quickly…or to lose our only child.”
His husband kept up the slow, soothing back rub. “At least we’re together,” the alpha said. He peered at Assa. “A few times a month, the nurses set up calls over the computer, so we can talk to our grandsons. And see them on the screen.”
Assa furrowed his brow. “You can’t call them more often? To video chat?”
The omega tutted. “We never got fancy phones like that, and even if we had, figuring out those things is impossible.”
“Not to mention the small screens,” the alpha said. “Even with my glasses, I can barely see the buttons.”
“Do you know your son-in-law’s phone number by heart? If you do, I’d be happy to make a call for you now. He might not pick up, since it’ll be an unknown number, but I can try,” Assa offered.
The omega lit up. “Truly? You would do that?”
“Absolutely,” Assa replied, pulling his phone from his pocket.
They gave him the number. Assa tapped it into the video call app and hit connect. To his surprise, the person on the other end of the line picked up, and he found himself staring at one of the most beautiful alphas he had ever seen.
“Hello?” the man said.
“Um…hi,” Assa stammered. “My name is Assa Pashuk. I’m here at Green Rivers Assisted Living and Care Facility in Warburton.
Your, um, in-laws asked me to call.” Quickly, Assa gave the phone to the couple.
When they struggled to hold it, he squatted between them and pushed out the kickstand on the case, setting it on the table.
“Papa Sal! Daddy Endo! So great to see you,” the alpha said. “I wasn’t expecting to speak to you until this weekend.”
“Well, this nice young beta came by and was kind enough to spend time with us. He offered to lend us his phone for a call.”
“That’s wonderful! Let me go grab the boys so they can say hello.”
“Yes, Calder, please get them,” the elderly alpha—Sal—said.
“I can’t wait to hear about Jordie’s classes,” the omega—Endo—added. “And Ked grows an inch every time we see him.”
The alpha chuckled. It was a low, growly laugh, and Assa’s belly swooped. He couldn’t remember the last time an alpha’s general vibes had affected him so quickly. So viscerally.
Assa moved away as the couple spoke with their son-in-law and grandchildren, to respect their privacy. He wandered around the room, mindlessly examining the books and board games on the shelves.
Eventually, Sal and Endo asked him to return to the table. They said goodbye to their grandsons and gave Assa his phone back.
He noticed how much the conversation had drained them.
On his screen, the alpha, who appeared to be around thirty, said, “I appreciate your kindness—Assa, right?”
“Right. And you’re Calder?”
“Mm-hmm. Thank you for letting me speak to Denni’s parents.
They’re the only family my kids have besides me, and we don’t get to see them in person.
It’s been difficult since my husband died.
” He exhaled heavily. “Fuck, that sounds trite, doesn’t it?
… Difficult isn’t the right word. There really isn’t a big enough word to describe how hard it’s been. Anyway, thank you.”
Assa experienced a surge of sympathy. “It was my pleasure,” he replied. “I’ll check in on them next time I’m here too. And I’ll try to arrange another call.”
“That’s kind of you,” Calder said, his voice catching. “This…meant a lot.”
Assa wished he had more to offer. “It’s not a problem. Hopefully, I can help again.”
Calder ran a hand through his loose brown curls. “You know, I almost didn’t pick up. Unknown number and all. I’m glad I did.”
“Me too.”
They shared a pointed glance, and Assa wanted to take some of the sadness from the beautiful alpha’s eyes.
“I’ll put your name in my contacts,” Calder said. “So I won’t almost not pick up again.”
Assa laughed lightly. “I’ll do the same.”
After disconnecting the call, Assa helped a nurse take the couple back to their room before finally making his way to his car.
He was glad the stars had driven him to check out the other side of the facility today, grateful he’d been able to do something impactful for someone else’s parents, even if all he’d done for his own was make sandwiches.
Endo was right about plans going awry. You could do your best, but every unknown hallway held its own surprises.
***
Assa finished up his work in the lab early. He was excited because he and Wes had an appointment at an adoption agency that evening. This was the last one on their list. The meetings had gone well so far, and he was hopeful they would start their family soon.
After disposing of his gloves, he retrieved his phone from his locker and saw he had two voicemails. One from his father and one from Calder.
He listened to his father’s first.
“I’m out of sandwiches. You said a month, so you better get your ass back here then and not a day later.”
Charming.
Assa scoffed before pressing the button to hear the message from the alpha he’d been thinking about for ten days. It was one minute and thirty-eight seconds long.
“Hello Assa. This is Calder Rosen… I want to thank you for letting me speak with my in-laws last week. That act of kindness you showed to strangers has turned out to be a lot more meaningful than it may have seemed that day… There’s no easy way to say this, but I believe you’d want to know that I received word from Green Rivers that Sal and Endo passed away yesterday, peacefully, within twelve hours of each other.
” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat.
“It’s not a surprise they went together, since they were married for over fifty years, and it’s been so hard for them since…
since Denni… I take comfort in how quick it was, but obviously I’m shocked…
Anyway, at their request, there won’t be a service.
Their ashes are being sent to me here in Bellwether Province and I’ll make sure they’re buried with their son…
I called to let you know, of course, but I mostly needed to thank you again for giving my children the opportunity to speak to their grandparents one last time.
We are very lucky that you happened upon Sal and Endo that day…
Almost like it was meant to be… I suppose there won’t be a reason for us to speak again, but I wanted to make sure you understood that I will never forget what you did.
I’m glad we met, even briefly. I wish you all the best.”
When Assa met Wes at the agency later, his husband clearly sensed something was amiss.
“What’s wrong?” he asked with concern.
Assa had never told him about the call he’d made for Sal and Endo. He hadn’t deliberately kept it a secret, but with the excitement of the adoption meetings, it simply hadn’t been top-of-mind.
Now, realizing the significance of that conversation for Calder and his sons, it felt very important.
He figured he could explain everything to Wes later, when they had more privacy. “Nothing’s wrong. Just wondering if there’s even such a thing as coincidence, or if the universe has it all planned out.”
“Deep thoughts for the waiting area,” Wes teased.
“Meh.” Assa kept his tone light. “I’m also thinking about what to have for dinner.”
“Tacos. The answer is always tacos.”
“Wes and Assa Pashuk?” an administrator called out from behind a heavy office door.
“That’s us.” Wes stood up, taking Assa’s hand. “You ready for this?”
“Absolutely. Let’s see what the stars have in store for us.”