Chapter 10 - Micah
The first day taking care of Asher wasn’t bad. He slept a lot, which the doctor had said to expect. By day two, Asher seemed to settle into my presence in his house and in his daily routine, not that he really had any other choice. I brought him breakfast in the morning and he seemed to have a better appetite, because by the time I was ready to leave for the day, the pancakes I'd given him had disappeared from the plate. He was sitting up easier and smiling a little more, too.
After work, I stopped by the grocery store to load up on provisions. Asher didn't have much at his house in terms of groceries and I was starting to suspect he lived mostly off of takeout.
I ran into Jackson at the store as I was browsing the produce section. “Hey,” I said when I spotted him, unsure if he'd remember me. “Jackson, right? I'm Micah.”
He gave me a big smile. “How's our boy? I can't thank you enough for taking care of him.”
I laughed softly, relieved at the familiarity. “He's good. Sleeping a lot. He was hurting pretty bad yesterday but he seemed a little more comfortable this morning. And it's no problem. I'm happy to.”
“Well, I appreciate it. We've tried living together. We make terrible roommates. If I also had to play nurse, I might kill him.”
“He's not that bad,” I assured him.
“Just wait until you have to agree on a TV show to watch.” Jackson chuckled and shook his head. “Impossible.” A moment later, he shrugged. “I should get going. I was thinking I'd come by sometime, maybe during my lunch break, to keep him company.”
“That sounds great. I'll let him know.”
We said our goodbyes and I meandered through the store, picking ingredients for a handful of my favorite meals. I didn't know what Asher would like, so I tried to keep it fairly tame—burgers, sandwiches, tacos, chili. Once we spent some more time together, I could get a better read on what he'd want.
As I made my way through the checkout line, I was struck by how normal it felt to be grocery shopping for Asher, to be planning meals for the two of us to share. It had been at least twenty years since we'd seen each other, but coming home to him felt right in a way I couldn't pinpoint.
Back at his house, I let myself in, calling out to let him know nobody was breaking in. “Ash? It's just me.”
He didn't respond, so I finished bringing the groceries inside before making my way down the hall to peek in on him. I opened the door slowly, trying to stay quiet. He was sleeping peacefully, eyes closed, face slack, and he didn't stir at all. I watched him sleep for a few seconds, my chest squeezing tight, before I realized I was probably being weird and closed the door as quietly as I'd opened it.
I headed to the kitchen to put away groceries and prepare dinner, but just as I was putting the last of the food in the pantry, Asher called my name from the bedroom.
“Micah?”
I hurried down the hall and stood in the doorway to see what he needed. “Hey, you’re awake.”
He nodded a little. “Do you know where my phone is?”
“I think it's still in the living room. Want me to go grab it for you?”
“Please. Also could you turn on a light? It’s so dark in here.”
“You sure? The doctor said you’re going to have some light sensitivity and would want to rest your eyes.” I flipped on the light switch. He groaned the second I did, so I quickly turned it off.
“I guess she’s right,” he grumbled. “Can you at least open the curtains?”
“For sure.” Once the curtains were open, I grabbed his phone from the living room and returned with it. “You’re probably not going to want to do much on this thing for a few more days at least.”
He sighed and tossed it onto the bed next to him. “You’re probably right about that, too, but good God am I bored.”
I could understand that. He’d spent the entire day sleeping or sitting around, alone, in the dark room. “I’ll be right back.” I went to the dining space and grabbed one of the wooden chairs from the table, carrying it with me to Asher’s room.
“What’s this?”
I laughed as I placed the chair next to his bed. “You really must’ve done a number on your head if you don’t recognize a chair.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, but what are you doing with this chair?”
“Keeping you company. Duh.” I sat, facing him, and grinned. “Remember that time I broke my ankle in sixth grade?” When henodded, I continued. “You stuck by me and helped me out every time I needed it until my cast came off. You got my homework for me while I was at home and you carried my backpack when I got back to school.”
“That’s what friends do.”
