Chapter 18

For the next few days Asher put away the paperwork and dedicated himself to cleaning up around the house. He started going through his parent’s things. He had no idea what to do with any of it. Maybe someday he would donate it or give it to someone who needed it. For now he was going to put it in storage. When he started going through the chest his mother had in her room for as long as he could remember, the nostalgia hit him hard again. He didn’t realize it, but she had kept everything he had ever made for her. There were handprints from kindergarten and Mother’s Day cards from second grade. She had all of his report cards and any plaque, trophy or ribbon he had ever won. There was newspaper clippings from when he had played football and certificates his teachers had given him for academics. He smiled sadly as he went through it all and wondered what she had been saving it for. It made him wish that he had a child of his own to share it with. That was something he couldn’t even imagine happening in his life.

When he finished that, he started in the closet. He packed up his father’s clothes first. That first day he avoided his mother’s altogether. The second day he forced himself to go back in there and as he pulled things out and he remembered her wearing some of them, his hands began to shake and the memories of that day seventeen years ago came flooding back. He had done what she had asked and what he believed was best at the time, but he couldn’t help but still wonder if he had committed an unforgiveable sin. That memory once again broke the dam that he kept repairing and the torment began to take root once again. Thankfully, before it could pull him completely back down into the abyss, the doorbell rang.

He opened the front door to find Dean with a twelve pack of beer in his hand and a smile. “You’re working too hard.”

Asher laughed. “What makes you think that?”

“I could sense it. I can always sense when too much work is taking place, you know that. You need a beer break.”

Asher smiled again. “Come on in.” He led him through the house to the back door. They stepped out onto the back porch to his mother’s other swing. They sat down and Dean handed him a beer, then popped the top off his own. “You asked me if I was staying in town,” Asher said, “What about you?”

“I haven’t decided yet. The old man wants me to. I can do what I do anywhere but as long as the Proctor’s are in control in this county, it won’t be easy.”

“What do you do again?” Asher asked him with a smile. “Besides drink beer.”

Dean flipped him off. “I work. I own my own business. I develop properties, strip malls, parks, museums, you name it. I would play hell getting any contracts around here though because I’ll be damned if I’d ever pay those Proctor bastards off.”

Asher nodded. “Maybe you and I should join forces with your dad and Frank and see what we can do about getting them out of control, and out of town.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Dean said, “As soon as I finish my beer.”

Asher laughed again. It was good to laugh. He hadn’t done it for so long. He leaned his head back as he took a drink of his beer and his eyes landed on a loose beam above them. “That’s not good,” he said. Dean looked up at it.

“Nope, that whole thing will come down if that beam falls.”

“I’ll have to take care of that. I noticed some of the roof tiles missing too. I guess Dad didn’t feel well enough the last few years to take care of things the way he used to.”

Dean stood up to put his empty bottle back in the case. When he did, his foot went through a piece of rotting wood on the porch. It startled him and he cried out. Asher got up to help him but as he did, he laughed. Dean started laughing too, but as he was laughing he said, “Get me out of here.” Asher pulled him out of the hole and said, “I’ll start working on this tomorrow.”

“Well, while I’m deciding what to do about my business, I have some time. I’ll help you.”

“You have to really work,” Asher told him with a grin. “I don’t need a supervisor.”

Dean flipped him off again and grabbed another beer.

**

Asher went into town the next day to get the lumber he needed for the back porch. It was the first time he had actually gone into town since the funeral, other than to just see Lyle. He hoped that he could get in and out without seeing anyone he knew. He didn’t want to have to talk to someone who would be asking him a bunch of questions about where he had been and all of that. He was happy to see that there weren’t many cars in front of the hardware store. He parked and went inside, going straight to the back where he knew they kept the lumber. As he passed the cash registers, he noticed the young man Mia had been with at the funeral was behind one of them and his eyes were trained on Asher.

Asher walked by, but as he gathered his supplies he couldn’t help but wonder again who this kid was. He took his purchases to the counter and once again, he got a stare down from the kid. He raised an eyebrow and said, “Have we met?”

The kid looked completely disgusted by that question. “No, but I know who you are.”

“You do?”

“Yes. You’re Asher Fury. Mr. Fury’s son.”

Asher nodded. The kid’s tone was almost accusing. He had no idea what he could have done to garner this reaction from him. “How did you know my father?” Instead of answering his question, the kid said, “That will be fifty-two ninety-eight.” Asher was going to ask the question again, but he bit it back and handed the kid his credit card. Once the kid handed him the receipt to sign Asher said, “You have the advantage of knowing who I am. How about you tell me who you are? What’s your name?”

The kid stared at him for so long; Asher didn’t think he was going to answer again. Finally, he said, “My name is Axel.”

Asher could see it now. The yellow ring around the outside of his hazel eyes. “Axel…?”

“Halloway,” he said, almost as a challenge.

“You’re related to Mia?”

“Yes. I’m her son.” That was said almost smugly. What was up with this kid?

“How old are you, Axel?”

The kid’s stare became even more intense as he said, “Seventeen.”

Asher’s mouth went dry. He didn’t know what else to say at that point, so he grabbed his things and left. He felt the boy’s eyes on him the whole way.

Asher drove home thinking about the boy. Mia’s boy…his boy? What kind of coincidence would it be if he wasn’t? Mia wasn’t the kind of girl who would have jumped at the chance to have sex with another guy as soon as he left. She had waited with him for quite a while, until they had both been sure that they were in love. The other thing was, if he was not Asher’s son, why doesn’t he have his father’s name? Why is he using Halloway?

Asher got home and unloaded his supplies. He reached for his phone then and was about to call the Bar and Grill when Dean walked through the back gate.

“Hey man, are you ready to get started?” Asher was looking at his phone almost in a confused state. This could wait until she was off and he could talk to her face to face, calmly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You knew that kid was Mia’s son, didn’t you?”

Dean looked guilty. “Yeah.”

“Do you know who his father is?”

“I never asked her.”

“Does your father know who his father is?”

“I never asked him either.”

Asher rolled his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t my business. I figured you would explore that with Mia on your own time.”

“You think he’s mine?”

“I’m not the one you need to be asking these questions to.”

“I know that. Shit! If he’s mine, why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“Don’t get pissed off.”

“What?”

“Man you left her high and dry. She was a wreck with you gone and Travis and everything. I tried to see her before I left and her mother wouldn’t even let me in the door. If he is your kid think about it. After all that happened, she was left behind as a teenaged; unwed mother. For seventeen years she had no way of reaching you. Now, all of a sudden, she’s supposed to say, ‘Congratulations, Daddy?’”

One thing Asher could always count on was Dean not sugar-coating things for him. Everything he said was spot-on. She had every right not to tell him as soon as he wandered back into town after all of these years. Maybe that’s what she had come over to tell him the other night when he had brushed her off. Jesus Christ!

“Let’s start on the porch first,” he grunted.

“You’re not going to go talk to her?”

“Not now,” Asher said, “I don’t want it to come off like I’m angry and put her on the defensive. I need to get my emotions in check.”

“Good idea,” Dean said, “You’re smarter than you look.”

Asher flipped him off this time.