“You’re good for us,” he said, his voice low and clear. “We’re here for you.”
He released me, and I turned to Franklin. He had tears in the corners of his eyes when he spoke to me. “Asher, I know what you’re going through. I grew up in a household where I was always told I wasn’t enough. My father and my mother both saw me as a failure, an awkward gay son who would only bring shame to the family. But I learned to believe in myself, Asher. It wasn’t easy, and I didn’t do it alone…” He took Rory’s hand, but still held my eye. “You need to believe in yourself, too, Asher. Just like we believe in you.”
A wave crashed down on my back, the force of it knocking a heave out of my lungs. Whatever tears I’d been holding back since the first day I met these guys finally broke through, and I let out a long, wet sob.
Rory and Franklin took me in their arms, holding me from each side as I let it all out. Franklin’s hand was soft on my side, caressing over the bruise that the accident had left, and I sobbed out a laugh when I felt both of their beards rubbing against my face at the same time.
They held me.
When I finally pulled myself back together, my muscles felt loose and wobbly from the cry, and the world seemed lopsided and dizzy. I remembered that I hadn’t really slept, and that I needed to get the bus home, and to deal with my car.
I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, Rory took my hand. “Stay the night,” he said. “We can help you figure things out in the morning.”
I turned my eyes to Franklin. “We said I wouldn’t sleep over here. You guys wanted your home to be off-limits.”
“We have the house tonight,” Franklin said gently. “Rory’s right. You should stay.”
I pressed my hand down on the leather of the couch. Across the room, Marlene napped in a small red dog bed. I turned my eyes over every detail. I wanted to know this was real, that I wasn’t just delusional and sleep-deprived, or maybe on life support in a hospital from that crash.
“Okay,” I said, too exhausted to make up any more excuses. Too tired, finally, to even run.
“I’ll stay.”
FRANKLIN
Something clicked into place when I held Asher in my arms and felt him releasing his pain into the shared embrace that Rory and I offered him.
Ever since my sister first got sick, I had leaned on Rory, just like this. I had turned to him to hold me through all of that pain, to cook for me and clean for me when I wasn’t doing those things myself and to encourage me to get going again when the time was right. I had gotten so used to leaning on him, in fact, but now I knew the time had come for me to offer that strength.
Rory and I helped Asher to his feet. I brought him upstairs as Rory went to grab us waters and tea. It was just about dinner time, but something told me Asher wasn’t ready to eat.
“Come on,” I said, taking him by the arm as we walked up the stairs. “Good boy.” Asher hummed when I said it, and I nodded. “Good boy,” I said again. “We’ll make sure you’re okay.”
My back straightened with pride as I led him into the bedroom. The story Asher told us was still swirling through my mind, all the details bouncing around and crashing into each other. I had a lot of questions, and I knew Rory would, too. But one thing seemed perfectly clear.
Asher was dealt one bad hand after another, from an abusive home to friends who dragged him into trouble. An honest life was waiting for him. He just needed to be given the chance.
I opened the bedroom, the last light of the day filtering through the window. “Would you like to lie down?” I asked. “Rest as long as you want…”
Asher nodded, then sat at the edge of the big old bed. He laid his hand on the flannel sheets, pressing his fingers down into the mattress. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep,” he said.
I nodded, then pulled back the blanket and the top sheet. “Lie down,” I said firmly. “We’ll take care of you. Even if you can’t sleep, try to just rest.”
Asher glanced at the television, installed on the wall across from the bed. “Maybe we could watch a movie?” he said, tentatively.
The tremble in his voice shook me. Ten minutes ago, he was telling us that he escaped a shootout in Los Angeles and that last night he narrowly survived a high-speed car chase. But now here he was, nervous to ask to watch a movie with us.
“Maybe Rory could pick an old one?” he added.
I smiled, then patted the bed. Asher crawled up, resting his head on the pillow I fluffed. “I’ll ask Rory to pick,” I said as I tucked him in. “You just wait right here.”
Downstairs, Rory was putting together a tray of snacks, water, and tea. I watched from the dining room as he cut up some cheese and dumped crackers in a bowl, then added a splash of whiskey to one of the tea mugs.
“Throw on some popcorn?” I asked.
He startled and turned to look at me while Marlene curled up at my feet. “Popcorn?”
“Asher suggested watching a movie in bed. He thought maybe you could pick something?”
