He looked down at his favorite black T-shirt and jeans. “I don’t always wear scrubs to work.”
“And you’re too …” She waved her hand as if fanning smoke away. “Rugged and frowny.” Her gaze lingered on his lips for a beat, and his mouth twitched as if it could physically feel her stare. “And your eyes are green,” she finished, folding her arms.
“My eyes are green,” he repeated slowly.
“Likearrestinglygreen,” she said, accusatorily.
“I must have missed that question on the SLP exam,” he mumbled as he glanced at his watch. He was already running late, thanks to not having a parking spot and needing to tow her car.
He waved to Cam and then jogged off without a backward glance at Eliana. She must be in town for Julia’s wedding. Their paths shouldn’t have to cross again.
He paused at the front desk where Misty, with new lime-green streaks in her hair, sat on her stool at the computer. “Can you call a ride for Cameron and his sister?” He nodded toward them as they paused just outside the doors to pet Bear, the golden retriever leashed to Sweetie. Eliana leveled Sweetie with the same glare she’d given Asher earlier. “Charge it to me.”
“Sure,” Misty said. “Oh, wait! Harry is looking for you.”
“Okay, thanks.” Harry was helping him find a goose-shaped saltshaker to match the one his grandma had always used—and that Asher had broken last week. Maybe he’d located one.
Asher hurried off before Eliana could catch up to him.
Asher set out to find Harry after his last appointment.
“Asher. How’s cleaning out the bungalow going?” Mr. Richardson, the manager of The Palms, wore a suit every day he actually came in to work, even when it was over ninety degrees and humid outside. Based on the scent that followed him everywhere he went, he was sweating through the fabric.
“Good. Grandpa was a bit of a hoarder.” He attempted to walk past, but Mr. Richardson took his arm to stop him.
Asher pulled his arm away and lifted his brows. Mr. Richardson swallowed hard, visibly regretted touching Asher.
“I need a timeline. We’ve been more than generous—”
“Give him a break!” Marilyn Detrix hobbled over to them with her cane—a cane she wasn’t afraid to use in a variety of ways. She was one of the wealthier residents of the Palms. Asher had worked with her following her stroke last year. She never failed to notice when he was having a rough day, and she brought him his favorite candy bar every session, no matter how often he told her she didn’t have to. Plus, he swore he saw her trip Mr. Richardson with her cane last week when he was trying to catch Asher in the dining hall. “Asher is grieving. He’ll get to it when he gets to it.”
“I understand.” Mr. Richardson wiped at his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. “Maybe we can help you. Hire a professional crew.”
“No. I’ll handle it,” Asher said.
Mr. Richardson looked sideways at Marilyn. It was clear he wanted to say more, be more firm, but he wouldn’t want to risk making Marilyn angry.
“I need to go,” Asher said. “Someone’s looking for me.”
He walked away with long, purposeful strides he knew Mr. Richardson would have to jog to keep up with, and Asher would guess that he’d never jogged a day in his life. Most of the time, Mr. Richardson passed his responsibilities on to Samantha, but ever since he learned he could rent out Asher’s grandpa’s bungalow at a higher rate than Asher was paying, he came more often to pressure Asher to finish cleaning it out. It was only by the grace of the Palms’ owner, Adam and Belle Moreau, that he’d been able to hold onto it for this long.
Ty, one of the physical therapists, told Asher he saw Harry go into one of the conference rooms down the hall with the offices by the front entrance, so Asher poked his head into all of them until he finally got to the one at the end.
He pushed it open to find a group of Palms residents in the middle of a meeting. This really was an interesting group of people. Walt, Harry, Winnie, Polly, Nancy, Rosa, and Don. He saw them all hanging out together often, but didn’t realize they had an entire meeting place of sorts.
There was a standing white board, but before he could see what was on it, Polly turned it to face the wall.
They were up to something. His grandpa had always hated secrets, said they only led to headaches and heartaches. He’d told him that, the time he’d caught Asher sneaking out to run away after his parents had died and Grandpa became his guardian.
Asher had lied at first about where he was going, and then he’d broken down and confessed the truth. He’d planned to secretly live in his parents’ house until he graduated high school.
Grandpa reminded him they only had each other. Every other family member was gone.
He missed his grandpa. Some days were worse than others—especially the days when he wondered what his grandpa would think of the big secret he was currently keeping.
“I’m looking for Harry,” he said abruptly. Did they all have to stare at him like that?
Harry headed toward him. Asher spotted Winnie, and a twinge of guilt pricked him for her granddaughter’s car towed. Eliana might have rubbed him the wrong way, but Winnie had never been anything but kind to him. Especially after Grandpa died. He’d had to work to keep her, and her ability to sweet talk conversation out of him, at a distance. He never talked to anyone like that, and her skills were uncanny. He couldn’t let anyone close. It wasn’t worth the risk.
