Twenty minutes later, he turned onto the familiar road, riding past neatly kept houses, new families having taken over when some of the older residents had moved away. The large house at the end of the street, so familiar, always beckoned to him. The driveway and street just in front of the house were already filled with several trucks and SUVs.
Parking, he sat for a minute, staring at the familiar scene as memories floated through his mind. He could still remember the stomach-clenching fear when the social worker brought him to Miss Ethel’s when he was only six years old. The sting of his mother’s decision to stay with her abusive boyfriend instead of becoming a decent mother had never quite gone away, but he knew how incredibly lucky he was to have landed on Miss Ethel’s doorstep.
She had taken a scared, undernourished, abused little boy and given him a bed, a meal, and a real family. She had done that for all of them.
Swinging his leg over the motorcycle, he pulled off his helmet and tucked it under his arm as he walked toward the front. Her yard was well tended, as each of his brothers saw that her grass was mowed, her hedges trimmed, and the house repairs completed. She no longer took in boys but instead focused on her knitting in the winter and her flower gardens in the spring and summer.
Stepping into the house as he had done a thousand times, memories came at him from every direction. The aroma of freshly cooked food mixed with the light, delicate scent of her rosewater perfume. Glancing into the living room, he could not help but grin seeing her knitting basket on the floor next to her chair, the long knitting needles sticking out of the yarn. When he first arrived, he had never seen anyone knit and watched in awe as her fingers flew about the yarn and needles, creating a complicated scarf. In later years, he wondered about the analogy of her knitting all of the lost boys together into a family.
Zander walked down the hall, a little girl in his arms, and Asher greeted them both. Fatherhood looked good on his oldest brother, and he was happy for all of his brothers who had found women to love and who loved them in return.
The large table in the dining room had been expanded as their family had grown. Two others joined them, Zeke and Cas, both later arrivals to Miss Ethel’s. Zander had left for the Army after high school, followed by Cael and Rafe the next year. Jaxon and Jayden both joined the Army, and Asher followed his oldest brothers, serving in the Army Corps of Engineers as a Carpentry and Masonry Specialist.
The others completed a tour of duty before being discharged and coming back to Richmond to live near Miss Ethel. Zander ran a bar named Grimm’s, and Zeke started the restaurant attached to the bar. Rafe worked with his wife at a veterans burn facility. Jaxon became a paramedic, and Jayden owned a car mechanic’s shop, Cas working with him. Cael did home reconstructions, specializing in the old, historic homes around town.
Unlike his brothers, Asher had completed two extra tours of duty, saving every dime he made. By the time he was discharged, he had a nest egg large enough to purchase a home and refurbish it with the intent to sell. By then, the renters’ market was up, and he decided to rent the house, having enough money to buy a second one.
Now, six houses and one small apartment building later, he was making good money in real estate and as a landlord.
As the dining room filled with people, he greeted everyone he passed, making his way into the kitchen where he knew he would find Miss Ethel. Sure enough, there she was amidst the hustle and bustle. Her grey hair was whiter nowadays but still pulled into a bun at the back of her neck. Still then, she wore a familiar shirtdress belted at the waist. Sensible shoes adorned her feet, and he watched as her eyes landed on him, a wide smile spreading across her face.
The smile lines were deeper than he remembered as a child, and her blue eyes were now more grey but twinkled all the same.
She moved through the crowded kitchen and placed her hands on his arms as she stared up into his face. He bent to kiss her cheek, inhaling her soft scent deeply.
“There’s my handsome boy,” she said, affection in every word.
He peered down at her, always remembering the first time he had looked up at her, thinking she was very tall. By the time he had become a teenager, he had hit the growth spurt that she had predicted and shot upward. With exercise and her good food, he had filled out, leaving the scrawniness of his early childhood behind.
“How are your houses doing?” she asked.
“They’re good. I just came from the last one, where I met with the new renters. I’ve got someone moving out of one of the four apartments in the small apartment building. I’ll do a little touch up with it before I look for a new renter.”
“And the shelter?”
He ducked his head, saying, “It’s fine. I’d love if one day it wasn’t needed, but as long as it is, I’m glad it’s there.” With the help of the city and grants, Asher had been able to purchase an older apartment building for use as a homeless shelter. It had men’s and women’s floors, but a large majority of the space was for parents with children.
“It’s a good thing you do there," she said, reaching up to pat his cheek.
Shrugging, he replied, “There’s a need. I’m just glad I can help someone who doesn’t have a bed to sleep on.”
Touching his cheek once again, she turned and entered the fray of the kitchen, and he moved back into the dining room where more of his brothers were gathering.
Good conversation and laughter ensued as they all managed to sit around the table, sharing the meal. Even though Zeke and Cas had come to Miss Ethel’s later, they had bonded with her original six boys. Her husband had died many years before, and they had been unable to have children. Hearing of a need, she decided to become a foster parent and always said that it must have been God’s will for her to raise boys. She claimed that if a girl had been brought to her first, she would have kept all girls. But she was destined to take a ragtag group of unruly boys and turn them into a family, now accepting their wives and girlfriends as well.
Going after seconds, Asher piled his plate full. Rafe looked over and laughed, saying, “I still remember the first night you were with us. Miss Ethel kept trying to give you food, and you looked as though you were going to pop.”
Sharing a smile, he acknowledged, “I’d never had so much food at one time in my life."
Zeke, patting his stomach, said, “At least you run yours off. I used to work out in the gym several times a week, but now that I’m running the restaurant at Grimm’s and taking care of food at your shelter, I still eat but have been skipping the gym, and it’s beginning to show.”
“Nonsense," Miss Ethel said. “All my boys look healthy and happy.” Looking around the table, she added, “And my girls as well.”
The meal was over too quickly, and just as when they were boys, everyone helped clean up. Soon the food was put away, the dishes washed, and the dining room spotless. Stepping out onto the front porch, goodbye hugs were offered as everyone readied to leave.
Deciding to stay for a few minutes, Asher walked back inside with Miss Ethel, watching as she settled into her well-worn chair, pulling the knitting needles from the yarn. He sat on the sofa, and after a moment of the clicking of the needles, she peered at him from over the top of her glasses.
“Anything on your mind, Asher?”
“I looked at a property the other day. A house in an older neighborhood that I’m considering.”
They remained silent for several minutes, and he loved how she always gave him plenty of time to ponder his thoughts, not feeling as though she needed to fill every second with talk.
“I didn’t even recognize the street name until I got close." The clicking of the needles stopped, and her hands rested in her lap as she continued to hold his gaze.
“It was the last neighborhood I lived in before I came to you. I drove by and saw the old house that Tim lived in…the one that Mom and I shared with him." Leaning forward, he propped his forearms onto his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. Shaking his head ever so slow
ly, he said, “I can honestly say that I haven’t thought about Tim in a long time. About the time that we found out that my mom had died was the last time I gave him any thoughts."
“Memories are funny things,” Miss Ethel said. “They can bring us immense joy or send us spiraling into sadness.”
“For a long time, when I thought about my mom, I felt so betrayed. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized she was just never maternal. She had never meant to get pregnant with me, and since my natural dad didn’t stick around, I became a weight hanging around her neck."
Her voice ragged, she said, “Oh, Asher."
“It’s okay, Miss Ethel. It really is. Strangely enough, I’ve actually made peace with the fact that it was her, not me. You helped me realize that. You helped me realize that if she had been a better mother, I would’ve been enough.” Giving his head a little shake, he continued, “That’s not why I brought all this up. Believe me, I laid to rest in my mind both my mom and Tim a long time ago. But as I drove down the road, I stared at the last place I ever saw my friend Penny standing right before the car hit her."
“And being on that street made you think of her.”
Looking up, he held her gaze and said, “You might not believe this, but I’ve never forgotten her. I’m over thirty years old, and I still remember her.”
“’Time does not bring relief; you all have lied, Who told me time would ease me of my pain!’ That’s the first line of a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay. It’s always made me think of those I’ve lost and how we never forget our memories.”
He sucked in his lips and stared down at his arms, the floral swirls hiding the puckered skin. “What if you have a memory that still isn’t bearable?”
“Sweet boy, I know what you saw was so traumatic—”
He looked up quickly and said, “It’s not that, Miss Ethel.” Giving his head a shake, he amended, “I mean, it was traumatic, and I still can’t think about it without feeling it in my gut. But it was something that she did before the accident…that’s what I remember the most. That’s what makes my heart ache every time I think about it.”
Miss Ethel placed the yarn and the needles back into the basket at her feet before standing and walking around the coffee table to sit next to him. Placing her thin hands on his, she asked, “Can you tell me that memory?”
Sucking in a ragged breath, he moved his hands slightly underneath hers, his forearms now facing up. “She saw the scars. The cigarette burn scars that Tim used to give me when he was drunk and pissed about something.”
“And what did she do?” she asked, her voice soft and steady.
“She cried.” Twisting his head so that he was once again holding her gaze, he continued, “Tears fell down her cheeks and landed on my arms. I was only six-years-old, but I knew that not even my mother had cried for me. My own mother didn’t protect me, but my friend cried for me.”
“’Tears shed for another person are a sign of a pure heart.’ I’m afraid I paraphrased José Harris’ quote, but I think it’s apropos, nonetheless. Your friend, Penny, even at a tender age, had such a sweet heart. And as sorry as I am that she was taken from you, I’m so glad that for a little while, you had her in your life.”
He leaned over and placed a kiss on her soft cheek, murmuring, “I was lucky, Miss Ethel. I was shown at an early age what a true friend is and then landed here with you, who showed me what a true mom should be. On top of that, I ended up with brothers who taught me what it was like to have someone’s back.”
He stood and assisted her to her feet, keeping his arm around her shoulders as they walked to the front door. Standing on the porch, he looked down and smiled. “I said that the memories were unbearable, but that’s not really true. I think because they touch my heart and make it ache, I said they were unbearable. But the truth of the matter is, Miss Ethel, is that I’m glad I have those memories.”
After securing his helmet and firing up his motorcycle, he waved toward Miss Ethel as she stood on the porch waving in return. Roaring down the street, his heart was warm with the knowledge that because of her he had a lot of memories to be glad for.
That night, as usual, he lay in bed, his back to the pillows against the headboard. He slid on his reading glasses and opened the latest book that he was reading. He occasionally went to Grimm’s when he knew his brothers might be there, but other than that he shunned crowds, preferring the company of a good book.
He dated occasionally but had never come close to falling in love, certainly not like his brothers who had found their soul mates. His mind kept wandering from the words on the page to the conversation he had had with Miss Ethel about Penny. ’Tears shed for another person are a sign of a pure heart.’ He might have only been six years old, but he knew those words were true. Perhaps that was why he had never found a woman to give his heart to…he was still looking for someone with a pure heart.
Finally giving up on the story, he closed his book and placed it on his nightstand along with his glasses. Turning off the lamp, he slid down in bed, willing sleep to come. But tonight, visions of a dark-haired little girl with warm brown eyes that held a touch of sadness filled his dreams.
5
Asher’s feet pounded a steady rhythm as he ran along the path through the woods of the park. He generally preferred morning runs but recently had been working on his latest home acquisition in the early morning hours, so he moved his daily run to the afternoon. The leaves on the trees were beginning to turn red and gold, and while the temperatures were still warm, he knew that soon the crispness of autumn would be felt.
His passion for running began by the time he was in middle school. Cael had gravitated toward basketball, Zander preferred football, and Rafe enjoyed wrestling. Jaxon and Jayden played baseball. While he enjoyed all sports with his brothers, Asher never cared for school sports the way they did. But running was something he enjoyed, and thanks to an observant middle school PE teacher, he began running long distance.
Perhaps because his mind had been rolling to the past lately, he thought back to his early days with Miss Ethel and how she raised them to be protective of each other. “Life is difficult enough, boys. Brothers should always have each other’s backs.” He had been embarrassed the first time he was at school with his new brothers and someone made fun of his skinny legs. While Miss Ethel had not approved, Zander’s fist in the other boy’s face had quieted the taunts. And certainly, when the rest of his brothers circled around him in a protective stance, the message was sent and received. No one messed with any of Miss Ethel’s boys if they did not want the entire group going after them.
Asher grinned as he continued on the path between the trees, watching for slippery mulch and tree roots. Cross-country was his preference over track, the idea of running in circles monotonous. There were strategy and camaraderie with the cross-country teams in school, but he preferred the long runs where he could think clearly without interruptions.
In high school, he began lifting weights with his brothers at the local YMCA. Miss Ethel made sure the boys had plenty of food to eat, and the combination had him filling out at the same time his growth spurts had him growing tall. He still felt ugly compared to his brothers. Zander had a muscular build with blond, Nordic features. At six-feet-seven-inches, Cael towered over everyone. Jaxon and Jayden had dark wavy hair and bodies honed by exercise. Rafe had the body and easy smile that made the girls giggle and laugh when they walked down the halls.
But there must have been something to the association with his brothers, because once he was in high school, the girls began to notice him, too. It had been a real ego boost to finally feel like he was no longer the scrawny kid that everyone would make fun of.
The Army’s physical demands had been easy for him, allowing him to continue to work out as well as teaching the skills he would need for his post-military career. And now, his daily run not only kept him in shape but gave him the time to think. "My Asher needs his own time and space,” Miss Ethel used t
o say. Another smile slipped across his face as he once more thought of how well she understood him.
Running down a slight incline, he came out of the woods and continued following the path through the park. In early fall, the grass was still lush and green although the flowering shrubs had lost their blooms, preparing for the oncoming winter. The path meandered by a large pond, and he ran past a few groups of children playing and lovers wandering hand in hand.
Passing the couples, he thought of the changes in his own family. Jaxon and Morgan would be married in a month, and Jayden and Ruby shortly after that. With Eleanor expecting in the spring, Miss Ethel would have two grandbabies to dote on. He would not be surprised if there were other pregnancy announcements coming soon.
As he rounded the edge of the pond, his step faltered as a small pebble in his shoe caused him to wince. Wondering if he could keep going, his gaze snagged on a bench with a lone woman sitting on one side. Taking advantage of the space, he ran past her and sat at the far end.
Untying his left shoe, he pulled it off and shook out the pebble. He rubbed the bottom of his foot, grunting slightly as his thumb dug into the bruise.
“That must have been painful,” came a soft voice from the other end of the bench.
Leaning against the back of the bench, he twisted his head and observed her looking at him, a shy smile on her face before her gaze dropped back to the book in her lap. Her dark hair hung in a sleek sheet to just below her shoulders, and as she leaned forward, it created an effective curtain to hide her face. Before she had looked back down at her book, he had spied dark eyes. It was a warm day, but she was dressed in jeans with a light sweater. Her build was slight, her delicate hand resting on the open pages of the book. She kept her head down, and he found a strange longing to have her speak to him again.
“It was,” he agreed, wondering what he was doing. Striking up a conversation with a complete stranger was something he usually avoided. “I can keep running through a muscle spasm or a cramp, but a rock in my shoe is impossible to ignore.”
Asher: Heroes at Heart Page 4