Chapter 15
JACE
The call from Bradley isn’t exactly unexpected, but it is two weeks earlier than I had anticipated.
“I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but when Gerald’s name was entered into the system on a police report, it flagged a follow-up.”
Gerry told me all about how Ash threatened to throw down with some old granny at the supermarket a few weeks ago, so I am not completely blindsided. I only hate the fact that I didn’t anticipate this call coming sooner. Being on this side of social services makes me feel unsteady.
“I’ve read the report,” Brad continues while I have my little existential moment in front of my drafting table. “My supervisor is ready to rip the cops a new one since they didn’t verify legal guardianship before releasing him with this Ashton guy.”
Nothing could stop the bark of laughter that bursts out of me. Ashton? Ash’s legal name is Ashton? For the life of me, I could never come up with a worse name to represent my friend.
“You already met Ash,” I manage to get out between chuckles. “My neighbor and the official childcare that should be listed in Gerry’s file.”
Brad legitimately squeaks out a sound of annoyance, and I can hear papers rustling through the speaker.
Turning back to the design on the table, I sketch in a removable gag piece and notate to ask the client’s preference for safety signals to be built into the hand restraint areas.
I won’t add a gag without secondary safeword adaptations, and I won’t sell to anyone who has an issue with safety measures for my devices.
“Mother fucking piece of anal tension,” he curses in the background, causing me to nearly drop my pencil… Anal tension? Actually, that might be something to think on adding to a design… Hook? Expanding plug?
Oooh. A cheek spreader! That is right up the client’s alley. He likes looking at his boy’s hole, but the guy has some serious substance back there.
“Here it is! Ashton Reginald Harper… I’m gonna kill her.”
Immediately, my good mood evaporates. Ain’t no chance anyone is going to go after Ash with me around. They are by far the best person I have met outside of Mama Sue, and I already threatened to castrate a mother fucker for trying to intimidate her into giving up one of her foster kids.
“The office administrator never even submitted the background check for your neighbor, so the name was never entered into the system. Fucking bitch is gonna get someone killed for her incompetence.”
My pulse slowly returns to normal while I listen to Brad grumble about his useless coworker, and we eventually wrap up the unnecessary phone call a few minutes later.
He is right, though. Not performing a background check on a caretaker is a huge deal.
If I had anything in my background beyond a speeding ticket, my interactions with Brad would not be limited to a phone call after over six weeks.
It wouldn’t matter that I am the closest blood relative.
Granted, there are definite cracks in the system with the background checks. The checks can only uncover issues that were reported, prosecuted, and convicted. Sometimes, the people providing care have neighbors, friends, or relatives that “help” who are not checked and documented.
But still, to not even do the check or enter Ash in as an official caretaker for Gerry… I agree with Bradley. She is going to get someone hurt or even killed by her negligence.
Turning back to my design, I spend the next hour making adjustments for the placement of some of the requested attachments since the client wants the piece to be discreet when not in use.
His exact words were “I want to stare at the piece of art that is my boy while I work on reports without my secretary having any idea what my husband comes in for on our lunch dates.”
I jot down a few more questions to ask the client when he comes into the club tonight and check to make sure everything from the paper draft has uploaded to my tablet. Once I’m certain I am not forgetting anything, I lock up the workshop and head for home.
Fifteen minutes later, I am looking at two drenched divas – one of which is an irate drag queen whose makeup is ruined – and a giggling eight-year-old caught red handed with the hose.
It’s impossible to hold back a smile, especially when the professor comes around the corner and dissolves into laughter himself at the sight of his fiancé.
“Just you wait, Kid,” Ash warns him while throwing me a wink. “I get to pick the movie tonight.”
Gerry runs off to play at the swings before anyone can stop him, and I sigh in contentment. Is this what life with a family is supposed to be like?
Eric stomps away, dragging a still laughing Matt with him, leaving me and Ash alone.
Instead of going inside his own place, he helps me unload the groceries from the back of the Odyssey.
I had a few deliveries in town for non-custom orders, so I took the van instead of my bike.
I’m still trying to get used to driving a four-wheel vehicle when there isn’t snow on the ground.
“Hypothetical situation,” Ash starts after putting the milk in my fridge. “Say someone agreed to do something for someone for free but then realized they can’t really afford to do it for free anymore. Would it be wrong to ask for payment and change the terms?”
Glancing away from the cupboard where I stored the fresh bags of cereal to refill the name brand boxes on the counter when they run out, his discomfort is obvious.
To be honest, everything was thrown at me so fast that I never even considered the financial toll it would take on Ash to be Gerry’s full time babysitter.
Looking back at the last month or so, it hits me just how often my little brother had new clothes or a new toy. There were times he was gushing to me about going to the movies, to Kennywood, to get ice cream… Not once did I hand money over to Ash for those things.
I should have.
“I owe you a lot, don’t I?”
He startles and tries to say he’s talking about someone else. After a few incoherent rambles, he sighs in defeat.
“I never thought I would be out of work for this long and the bills… my student loans especially… the bartending just isn’t enough to cover it all and unemployment isn’t going to last.”
Since all of the cold stuff has been put away, I ignore the rest of the groceries to pull Ash into a hug, ignoring the water soaking into my own clothes at the contact. “I should be paying you for watching Gerry all the time.”
He stutters out a protest, but I ignore him. I fucked up again. Pulling out my wallet, I know I have a couple hundred bucks from delivering a standard spanking bench earlier today. The least I can do is pay him back for the amusement park and movie tickets.
“I love spending my days with Ger. It’s just with the way prices are going up on gas and groceries and dear God did you see the electric bill?”
My eyes shoot over to the fridge where I keep a calendar to track all of my bills and due dates.
And yeah, I noticed the increase in everything.
It’s why I opened back up to commission pieces already.
Fuck, if I was noticing the crunch, how the hell had I not realized it would be hitting Ash twice as hard?
“Move in with us,” I blurt out.
It’s impulsive as fuck, but it would be a few less bills for Ash to worry about.
Plus, it would make it easier on everyone to not be shuffling back and forth between the two trailers.
With both of us working late nights regularly, the arrangement we have isn’t going to be sustainable once school starts.
“While I appreciate the offer,” Ash says, extricating himself from my arms, “Rent is actually not that much of a big deal in the grand scheme of my bills.”
He is well aware of how much bullshit he’s slinging judging by the way he won’t meet my eyes.
In what world is nine hundred dollars not a big deal?
Maybe it wasn’t when he was at his previous job and pulling in almost twice that each week.
I don’t know his exact finances now, but I do know that I haven’t seen him wearing makeup or getting any kind of takeout for the last few weeks.
The only splurging he’s doing is on my little brother, and he doesn’t have it to spare.
The more I think about it, him moving in here with us is a fantastic solution.
I can move the things from the smaller room to my workshop since it’s mostly just random things I stuffed in there during the quick move from the house and the stuff from David’s house.
Why the hell Jackson upgraded to a three-bedroom instead of the one and a den he had before is beyond me, but I am glad he did.
I can move into the smaller room and give Ash the master and that way he won’t have to share a bathroom with an eight-year-old.
“Seriously. Move in with us. Ger would love it, and you would have at least a grand less to worry about each month. No rent since you’re watching my brother. No electric bills.”
Despite the fact that I am usually not one to push, I fucking want Ash under the same roof as us every night. I want to experience undercaffeinated Ash in the mornings and have silly arguments over whether brand names really matter when it comes to certain foods.
I want him in our lives in a more permanent way.