4. Asher
4
ASHER
Two Days Later
The Gracie Mansion was quiet when I pulled up to the front gate and let my engine idle. I watched as a security guard noticed my truck and waved at me in acknowledgment. My hand was resting on the top of the steering wheel, so I raised three fingers to let him know that I saw.
As I waited, I glanced around. The yellow mansion was huge and surrounded by green, luscious grass. George had always been involved with local politics. My family was happy for him when he ran and won the NYC mayoral seat. He was hard-nosed, but he loved people. This was the perfect job for him.
As the security guard approached, I rolled down my window. The man was older, late forties, with greying hair and a pair of glasses perched on his nose.
“How can I help you, son?” he asked as he glanced around the cab of my truck before turning his focus back to me.
“Asher Wolfe,” I said. “I’m here to see Harriet and George.”
The man narrowed his eyes. “And you are?”
“Oh,” I said as I shifted in my seat so I could reach my wallet and pull out my license. “Just an old family friend.”
I handed over my license, and the guard turned it around in his fingers a few times.
He paused and read my name. “Asher Wolfe,” he said.
“Yep.”
I was fairly certain that Mom had told the Parks I was coming, so it was strange that the guard hadn’t been informed. But then again, I knew from experience how earth-shattering cancer was. When a loved one had that kind of diagnosis, it did strange things to your mental faculties. Your every moment moves so fast and so slow at the same time. Night and day begin to blend together as you sit and wait for news, good or bad.
“I’ll be right back,” the guard said as he held up my license and started to walk away.
“I’ll be here,” I called after him.
I watched him as he walked into the small booth next to the gate and closed the door behind him. He brought his phone to his cheek and turned to focus on the house as he spoke. After a few seconds, he glanced over at me before he said something and nodded.
Their conversation must have ended, because a moment later, he pulled his phone from his cheek and tucked it into his front pocket. He pushed open the door and made his way over to me.
“Well, Mr. Wolfe, sounds like you’re expected,” he said as he approached my window and held out my license.
“Thanks.” I returned my license to my wallet and set it in the cupholder next to me.
“Give me a second to open the gate, and then you are free to pull in.”
“Perfect,” I said.
He walked away from me as I rolled up my window. Once he was back in his booth and the gate began to open, he motioned for me to drive in. I waved at him as I passed by before I drove up the driveway to the mansion.
I parked off to the side so I wouldn’t be in the way. The air was quiet as I got out of my truck and shut the door. I walked the rest of the way up the driveway, and when I got to the porch steps, I took them two at a time. I stopped when I got to the mustard-colored front door and raised my fist to knock.
I only had to knock twice before the door was pulled open and I was face-to-face with the tearful eyes of Mrs. Parks.
“Asher,” she whispered as she reached out and pulled me into a hug. “I’m so glad to see you.” She held me tight, her greying hair tickling my cheek.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I knew what it was like to be on the other side. To be the one with the sick family member. There wasn’t a lot a person could say to make you feel better. And sometimes their words just made things worse.
So I just let her hug me, and I hugged her back. I hoped that she knew I was here for her. That I would always be there for all of them.
“How is he?” I asked as she loosened the hug.
She brought her fingers up to dab under her eyes and took a step back. “He’s stable right now.” She blew out her breath. “We’re getting a second opinion.” Her gaze lifted to the side window next to the front door, and panic flashed across her face “There were no paparazzi when you pulled in, right?”
I followed her gaze and tried to recall if I’d seen anyone. Nothing came to mind, but then again, I was just a nobody. If there had been paparazzi, they probably thought I was a pizza delivery person, not someone of importance. “Paparazzi? No.”
She stood in front of the window for a moment before she sighed and nodded. “Good. We’re keeping his condition under wraps for now until we are certain of his diagnosis.” She glanced over at me. “So far, the only people who know are the girls, the staff, and you and your mom. That’s it.”
I understood. No need to worry the residents of New York City if there was a chance he would be fine.
“I knew I could depend on you,” she said as she reached out and patted my arm. “You’ve been like a son to us. George will be so happy to see you.” She took a step toward the stairs and waved. “Come on, let’s go say hi.”
I followed after her as she led me through the foyer and up the stairs. Something she’d said lingered in my mind. “Girls? Are Willow and Coralie here?” My thoughts turned to the youngest Parks girl.
Both sets of parents had been very vocal about their excitement when Coralie and I were dating. They were thrilled that there might be a marriage between our families. After our breakup, Dad’s death, and her parents moving to New York, our lives got busy, and my interaction with the two Parks daughters lessened to almost nothing.
I was certain that we had both moved on, but just in case she hadn’t, I wanted to be prepared.
“Yes. Willow lives here in New York, and Coralie just got in last night. She’s planning on spending the next few weeks here until we know more.” She paused halfway up the stairs to turn around and glance down at me. “Which reminds me, I had Bonnie make up one of the guest rooms for you.”
I raised my hand. “Actually, I’ve got a place?—”
“Nonsense. You’re staying here with us.”
She stared down at me, and her eyes were wide and watery. I swallowed the words of protest that had formed in my throat. There was no way I could turn her down when she looked at me like that.
“Okay,” I said, feeling bad that I was going to have to bail on Carson. He’d seemed so excited to have me staying with him. I just hoped he could forgive me. “I’ll get my stuff from my friend’s apartment and bring it over tonight.”
That seemed to appease Mrs. Parks. She nodded as she turned and continued up the stairs. “George is just going to be so excited to see you. I’ve been keeping the fact that you were coming a secret from him ever since your mom called me.”
She was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. I paused when I joined her and waited for her to indicate the direction we were to go. “This way,” she said softly.
We walked down the hallway to the second to the last room on the left. Her shoulders visibly sank as we stood outside the ornate door. I wondered if I should offer to open it, but then decided to just let her take her time. She’d open the door when she was ready.
“He’s gotten really weak,” she whispered, tears forming once again on her lids.
“I understand,” I said, my voice deepening from the emotions that always rose to the surface when I thought about my dad.
She reached out her hand and patted mine. “That’s right. You would understand.”
She sucked in her breath and turned back to the door. Her hand that was hanging by her side started tapping a beat. It was almost as if she were counting down in her mind. Then she forced a wide smile as she reached out and turned the handle.
“Look who I found,” she announced as she pushed into the room.
The tone in her voice reminded me of the way my mother had introduced the main event at my eighth birthday party. It felt strange to be announced that way.
All gazes fell on me, including George’s. There were two nurses in the room. One was standing by a small standup computer desk, and the other was leaning over Mr. Parks, who was lying on the bed. It only took the nurses a moment to move past Mrs. Parks’ announcement and return to what they had been doing before we entered.
“Asher! My boy!” Mr. George bellowed as he waved away the nurse that had been checking on him. He pushed his fists into the bed so he could sit further up against the headboard. His skin looked paper thin and ashen. It hurt to see him like this. He was a shadow of the man he’d always been.
I forced a smile as I approached the bed. “Hey, Mr. P.” I leaned over the bed to give him a hug, making sure that I was also cognizant of where all the tubes and cords were so I didn’t accidentally tug on any of them. “You look great,” I said as I pulled away and smiled down at him.
“You lie, but I appreciate it,” he said, his smile faltering for a moment before it returned. “Come, sit and tell me what you’ve been up to.”
One of the nurses had stepped up to the bed. “Mr. Parks, Sam is almost here.” She eyed me warily before returning her attention to Mr. Parks.
I raised my eyebrows, not wanting to interrupt whatever treatment this Sam was here to do.
Mr. Parks just waved her away. “Not right now,” he said. “I want to catch up with Asher.”
“Don’t miss an appointment on my account,” I said as I raised my hands and gave the nurse a look that said I meant it.
She glanced at me and then back to Mr. Parks, but he beat her to saying anything. “Nonsense, Asher. Stay. Sam can come back later.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please.” Between the look in Mr. Parks’ eyes and the pleading in his voice, I found myself lowering down onto the chair next to the bed. I couldn’t say no to him, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to stay.
I missed my dad so much. And when I was around Mr. Parks, he filled the void that had been created when my dad passed. I hated that I’d taken Mr. Parks’ health for granted. If I could go back and spend more time with the man, I would have.
For now, I was going to soak up every moment I could with him.
Mr. Parks only lasted about an hour before his eyes started to close and his body sunk into the bed. I glanced up to Mrs. Parks. She nodded softly, and I knew what she wasn’t saying—it was time to let him sleep. I quietly stood and made my way out of the room and into the hallway. Mrs. Parks followed after me, closing the door once we were standing side by side in the hall.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. Her gaze was weary, and for the first time, I noticed the dark circles under her eyes. It was something I recognized from my mother. She was exhausted. “You’re hungry,” she said before I could answer. “Chef Mitchel is out for the afternoon, but he said that Ingrid just stocked the fridge. Let me make you something.” She started to head for the stairs, but I reached out and gently grabbed her elbow.
“Mrs. Parks, please,” I said. The last thing I wanted this woman to do was worry about me. “Go lie down. I’ll find my way to the kitchen.” I waved toward my body. “I’m a big boy now. I can make myself some food.”
Her gaze ran over me, and a sense of sadness settled around her. “That is true,” she said. Then she lifted her hand up to my cheek and held it there. “I remember when you were just a young boy, trying to make bread with only flour and water.”
I laughed as the memory of trying to eat the bricks of dried paste came back to me. “Well, I will tell you, I have progressed in the food-making department.”
She smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”
She tried to stop the yawn that threatened to emerge, but that struggle was in vain. I stepped forward and wrapped my hand around her arm. “Go sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” I pulled back, letting my arms drop to my sides.
She yawned again, this time, bringing the back of her wrist up to cover her mouth. “Okay,” she whispered. “Don’t let me sleep too long. I’ve got things to do.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said as I watched her walk down the hallway and disappear into one of the bedrooms.
Now alone, I glanced around. My stomach growled, and I instantly regretted not eating breakfast before I left Carson’s house. The last thing I wanted was to be a burden to the Parks. They were in for a long journey and needed to protect their energy for themselves.
But I also knew that if I didn’t eat like I’d promised, Mrs. Parks would worry about me even if I begged her not to. So I made my way down the stairs and back into the foyer to start my search for the kitchen.
I took a few wrong turns, but I finally found it. I walked inside and found the fridge was open. I frowned as I stepped up only to see Coralie pull back and shut the door.
I stood there, frozen. It had been a few years since I’d seen her. She looked the same, just older. Her blonde hair was longer now. It fell to the middle of her back. Her skin was tanned, but the familiar splash of freckles across her nose was just as pronounced as it had been during the summer before my senior year. She was holding a carton of almond milk, and her focus was on setting it down on the counter. From what I could tell, she hadn’t seen me yet.
“Hey, Coralie,” I said, not wanting to startle her. But from the way she jumped and moved to grab her heart, I didn’t succeed.
“What the—Asher?” She leaned forward as if trying to get a better look.
“In the flesh,” I said as I extended my hands out to the side.
“Oh my gosh!” She abandoned the almond milk and crossed the space between us to wrap her arms around me. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting some food,” I said as she pulled back.
She laughed. It was familiar. Back in high school, I’d been convinced that we were going to get married. Our families were partly to blame for that train of thought. After all, a union between the Wolfe and the Parks was high on their priority list. But I was grateful that they didn’t push the issue when it came to our breakup.
“I didn’t mean in the kitchen,” she said as she turned and opened a cupboard to grab a bowl. “I mean New York.” She set the bowl down next to the almond milk and paused. “Aren’t you in one of the Carolina’s now?”
I nodded. “North Carolina.”
“That’s right,” she said. Then a wave of sadness washed over her as if realization just dawned on her. “You’re here because of Daddy.”
The weight of Mr. Parks’ diagnosis settled in the room. “Yeah,” I said, my voice low with emotion.
She was standing next to the island, staring straight ahead. She blinked and glanced over at me. “It’s good that you’re here. Daddy will be thrilled.”
“I already saw him,” I said.
She studied me, silence falling between us. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but I also didn’t want to interrupt her reverie. “How did that go?” she finally asked.
I studied her, not wanting to say the obvious. Her dad was sick. A second opinion was only going to confirm what we all knew. I just hoped that there was higher chance of survival for him than there had been for my father.
“It was good,” I said, not wanting to say what I really thought out loud. It was better to step around the truth than face it. At least for now. “He fell asleep after about an hour.”
She nodded. “Yeah. He’s not lasting long lately.”
Her hands were resting on the countertop like she needed the support. She grew silent, and I let her take her time. When she glanced up at me, the sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. It felt like holding a mirror up to my past. I knew that look. I knew that realization. It was a feeling so indescribable and soul crushing.
“Want some cereal?” she whispered.
Her question startled me. I hadn’t been expecting that. Before I could answer, she narrowed her eyes and straightened before heading to the far door with the sign Pantry above it. “Cereal. Want some cereal?” she asked again before she disappeared into the small room.
I knew that move. Mrs. Parks had portrayed it perfectly. It was the I’m struggling with my thoughts, so I’m going to focus on something other than myself move. I’d seen it with my mom as well. I nodded and moved to follow after her. “Sure. That sounds fantastic.”