“Come on,” Asher says, nodding toward the porch. “I’ll show you where Gran hides the good snacks.”
I follow him inside, Porter warm against my chest, and try not to think about how natural this feels. How much I don’t want it to end.
An hour turns into two. Lia’s call runs long, Ethan gets stuck dealing with the supplier issue, and Asher and I end up on the couch in Gran’s living room, watching Porter sleep in his bouncy seat and eating contraband cookies.
This is the most relaxed I’ve seen Asher. Maybe it’s being in this sprawling house, surrounded by family chaos. Maybe it’s having a task. Maybe it’s that we’re not alone together, with Porter right there and Lia down the lane and Ethan somewhere in the barn. The pressure is off, and without the pressure, Asher is almost… pleasant.
“Can I ask you something?” I say.
He tenses slightly. “Depends on what it is.”
“Why web development? You seem frustrated about launches and things.”
He frowns and adjusts his good foot, so he’s rocking Porter’s bouncer. “I’m not qualified for anything else.”
I recoil. “You absolutely are. And you seemed really fired up when you were talking about rural telehealth.
He’s quiet for a moment. “I like building things. Solving problems. Making systems work. Code makes sense in a way that…” He stops.
“That people don’t?”
“Something like that.” Porter shifts in his sleep, makes a small sound, then settles again. We both watch this tiny human who has no idea about adult complications and awkward almost-relationships.
“Seems like Meow Mobile is pretty established, though,” I continue, not sure why I’m pressing him when I, too, have no idea what to do with my career. “And you could really benefit from telehealth.”
He looks surprised and tugs at his unruly beard. “The infrastructure for that would have to be its own entire company. Hardware and software.”
“Okay, but at one point, Meow Mobile had no infrastructure, right?”
“I guess. What got you thinking about this?”
He shifts on the couch, facing me a bit more while I squirm as the topic shifts to my own indecisions.
“I’ve just been thinking a lot lately about what people need, what inspires them.”
He doesn’t respond, but something in his expression softens. Lia finally comes through the door, apologizing profusely, shoving containers of gluten-free leftovers at us “for the trouble.” Ethan appears from the barn, tired but smiling, and immediately takes Porter from the bouncy seat to hold him against his chest.
“Thanks for this,” Lia says, hugging me like we’ve known each other for years instead of days. “Seriously. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Anytime,” I say. And mean it. “Well, as long as I’m here.”
On the golf cart ride back, the sun is starting to set, painting the sky orange and pink. Asher drives slowly with his left foot, wanting to test his powers, and I don’t know if it’s because of the fading light or because neither of us is in a hurry to end this.
“Your family is nice,” I say.
“They’re a lot.”
“That’s the same thing.”
He glances at me, something flickering in his eyes. “Not everyone thinks so.”
“Well, I find it refreshingly familiar.”
We pull up to Pierce Acres, and he stops the cart. For a moment, neither of us moves. “Thanks for coming,” he says. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know.” I gather the containers of leftovers Lia forced on me. “But I wanted to.”
He nods slowly, like he’s filing that information away.
