Chapter Ten

Today had been one hard, long-ass day. Mike had performed magic on the teeth and jaw of a sixteen-year-old who'd been beaten in a schoolyard brawl, simply because she came out as gay. Just because they lived in New York City didn't mean the people weren't as prejudiced and homophobic as any other place. Ignorance existed everywhere.

Flexing his fingers, Drew stretched his arms over his head, feeling the kinks unwind from his back. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. The day had been spent patching up scrapes, stitching up gashes, and getting at least two teens to talk to Keith about pressing charges. Drew managed to coax out of one young man that his injuries were caused by a stepfather who thought he could beat the gay out of him. That reminded Drew. He wanted to speak with Ash about the legal process they might have to face if they did decide to go forward with prosecution. A noise from the hallway caught his attention, and glancing at the clock, he frowned. Six o'clock. Everyone should've been gone already.

He got up from his seat and peered out into the hallway. Spying the receding back of young Stevie North, he shook his head. There was a young man with troubles, and he'd latched on to Ash for some reason. Drew heard a moan further down the hallway then a rhythmic squeaking noise. Fearful of what he might find, Drew sprinted toward Ash's office. He stopped short outside the open door, staring in amazement and consternation.

Clutching himself, tears pouring down his face, Ash sat on the loveseat, in the middle of a full-fledged meltdown of some sort. This wasn't something Drew had expected to see.

"Ash, what's wrong?"

No answer. Ash continued to rock, oblivious to Drew's presence.

His natural instinct to help taking over, Drew entered and sat down next to Ash, taking him into his arms, as if he were a child in need of comfort.

"No, I can't…"

"Shhh, it's going to be fine." Without thinking, Drew pulled Ash in tightly, murmuring soothing, crooning nonsense words. Ash stiffened only a second before burying his face in Drew's chest, the tears soaking through his shirt.

Stunned by the overwhelming emotional connection that flowed between the two of them, Drew froze. Holding Ash felt as natural as breathing. Their eyes met and the veneer of arrogant confidence Ash walled himself up behind peeled away, revealing a broken, frightened man. Drew pressed his lips to Ash's damp, head.

"Let it go. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Nothing can hurt you anymore."

Drew rubbed his broad back, feeling the muscles shift beneath his hands. With the tips of his fingers, he pressed and circled Ash's tense shoulders, and Drew closed his eyes, hopeful his touch brought some comfort.

Without realizing it, however, his lips had moved from Ash's hair to his forehead, resting on the warm skin. He trailed his fingers down Ash's cheek, the roughened stubble strange yet fascinating under his fingertips. A slow ache built inside Drew, along with a shocking need to protect this man and keep him safe. Drew could feel his pain; it was a visceral thing, alive and breathing within Ash. He explored Ash's face, tracing the slant of his cheekbones and the hollows of his eyes. Ash's mouth remained pressed against his chest, his breath fanning out in short, hurting gasps.

Why this man? These strange emotions swirling inside him forced Drew to question himself and be more cautious around Ash than he might have been with someone else. These past few weeks he and Ash had grown close, spending long hours setting up the clinic and working together, often having dinner if they both stayed late. He believed they'd become friends; Drew genuinely cared about Ash. To his great shock, after their first visit together, Ash had visited his grandmother on his own, a piece of information Esther had been only too happy to tell him.

Not once in their talks, though, had Ash revealed anything about himself, even though Drew knew without being told something terrible had happened to him as a child. When he'd spoken to Peter about it, his friend shook his head.

"Ash is my friend, Drew. What's even more important is that he considers me to be his friend, and God knows he has no one in his life he can count on. I'd never betray a confidence of his." Peter had raked his hand through his hair, looking exasperated. "Hell, I don't even know half of what he's lived through, but I assure you, it wasn't pretty. If he wants to talk to you about it, he will."

Shudders still rippled through Ash's body. What horrors had he seen forcing him to live such a withdrawn and lonely life? The memory of that night in the restaurant hit Drew as he recalled Ash running from the table, returning pale and shaken a while later. Was this the same thing? Did he have some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder that triggered at certain events or times? He'd talk to Rachel about it. Maybe she would know.

"Hey. How're you doing?" He smoothed Ash's hair back from his face, keeping his touch light and gentle. "Feeling better?"

Ash shook his head, still pressed against Drew's chest. "This has never happened to me before and I'm mortified. I never meant for you or anyone to see me like this." His words came out somewhat muffled, but he made no move to pull away from Drew's embrace.

"Don't be ridiculous. Everyone has a breaking point. I was a basket case when my parents died. I cried for weeks."

"Different," Ash mumbled. "You couldn't help yourself. This was my fault. By now I should be strong, able to handle myself."

Without thinking, Drew took Ash's face between his hands, staring deep into his fathomless eyes. "Not everything that happens to us is within our control, my friend. Sometimes life gives us a swift kick in the ass, and we have to do the best we can with what we're given." He bent down but caught himself right before his lips made contact with Ash's bristly cheek. Drew remained suspended there for a moment, feeling the sharp inhalation of Ash's breath, sensing his anxiety, his body tense and coiled tight. Ash had closed his eyes, his long black lashes resting like fans on his skin. With the lightest touch, Drew caressed Ash's face.

"Drew, what are you doing?" But Ash made no move to draw away.

"Damned if I know." But Drew didn't stop trailing his fingertips over Ash's jaw, feeling the tiny ripples flow over his skin.

Ironically Ash pulled away from him. "What's happening here?"

"Why don't you tell me? I walked in, and you were suffering. I've never seen anyone so broken and hurt." Drew put his hands on Ash's shoulders. "Don't turn away from me. We're friends now. Talk to me."

"I-I can't." His gaze remained pinned to the floor.

With a resigned sigh, Drew moved back. "What are you doing tonight?"

That clear, glittering gaze lifted to meet his. A small grin quirked Ash's lips. "I have no plans, Doc. What were you thinking?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter. Want to visit my grandmother with me?"

To his utter surprise, Ash's eyes lit up with a pleased glint. "I'd love to see Esther. I promised her some cookies the next time I came, so we'll need to stop at a bakery."

What an amazing transformation. In what Drew knew must be some kind of survival technique Ash employed to get him through the embarrassment of breaking down in front of someone, the man effortlessly shifted gears, slipping back into his charming, careless personality. Drew decided not to press the issue, thinking when and if Ash wanted him to know, he would tell him.

"Great. Everyone else is gone. I'll lock up the offices and meet you in front."

"Sure. And Doc?" Ash's eyes glimmered for a moment with emotion, then reverted back to their normal, blank fa?ade. "Thanks for everything."

Desperate to keep it light, still unsure of his own strange feelings, Drew cracked a smile and shrugged. "Sure. No big deal."

Within ten minutes, the two were on their way to his grandmother's house. They first stopped in Carroll Gardens, and while Ash picked up some cookies, Drew ran into the cheese store to pick up some of his grandmother's favorites, as well as his own. He spent a little time tasting both the cheeses and the crackers that accompanied them, and decided to buy several different kinds. That, along with the wine and cookies would make for a nice visit.

After storing their purchases in the trunk of Ash's sporty car, they were on their way again, to his grandmother's house in the heart of Flatbush. After World War II and her escape from Poland, she'd found the few remaining members of her family here in Brooklyn and never left. It was the only place, she once confided to him, she felt safe. He and Rachel loved the small house she and Papa Sy had shared. Their little bit of heaven of the American dream, she always joked. All his fondest childhood memories revolved around Rachel and him visiting their grandparents, spending many weekends helping Papa in the garden growing vegetables and Nana cooking in the kitchen.

They pulled up to the house and parked in the driveway. Her impatiens bloomed in the front yard, the interspersed pink, white, and red colors reminding him of peppermints, while the ceramic pots of crimson geraniums lined the steps up to her redbrick porch. A faint scent of barbecue from a nearby house tickled his nose, causing his stomach to rumble with an ungracious noise. He loved the summertime, when it didn't turn dark until later in the evening.

Ash chuckled. "Hungry?"

His face heated. "I missed lunch, so yeah." Hoisting the bag, he spoke over his shoulder. "The cheeses and rest of the stuff will tide me over, though."

Ash grinned and not for the first time, Drew wondered what went on inside his head. It took an incredibly strong personality to thrust aside the emotional disintegration of a mere hour before. He wished he could learn how to do it.

But, Drew realized, in a way he did—burying his fear, the loneliness so thick and black sometimes he stayed up all night rather than succumb to sleep and his nightmares. Adopting the cat had solved only a small part of his problem. His heart remained lonely.

"Nana? Where are you?" He stepped into the small entranceway, decorated with framed pictures of his family, all the way back to when Nana came to this country from Poland. There were no pictures of her as a young child, or any of her relatives, as she'd come with merely the clothes on her back. All her immediate family, her parents and three siblings, had been lost in World War II. Turning to Ash, he beckoned. "She must be in the kitchen, listening to the radio. Follow me."

"I have been here before, you know. I know where to go." Ash's grumble brought Drew up short, mystifying the hell out of him.

Not for the first time, Drew wondered, Why would someone like Ash want to spend time with an elderly grandmother? Another intriguing puzzle piece of the enigma that made up Asher Davis. He shot Ash a strange look. "I don't understand you at all."

Now it was Ash's turn to flush red. "Esther invited me to come whenever I wanted." A defensive note crept into his voice. "I bring her cookies."

By this time, they'd reached the kitchen and Drew saw he was right. The back door was open, as was the window overlooking the garden blooming with roses, azaleas and rhododendrons. One of her favorite radio talk shows played in the background, and a comforting smell of fried onions, garlic, and potatoes perfumed the air.

"Nana." At the sound of his voice, she turned, a smile breaking out across her lined face. He took her in his arms and hugged her. Please God , he thought to himself, don't let anything happen to her for a long, long time .

"Hello, sweetheart." She gave him a kiss on his cheek, and the old-fashioned scent of rose water she always wore reassured him for some reason. All was right in the world as long as his grandmother was around.

"And you brought one of my other favorite boys. Come give me a kiss too, Asher."

"Hello, Esther. You still won't call me Ash, will you?" Ash dipped his head to kiss her cheek, then picked up her hand and kissed it as well.

"I like the name Asher. It's a fine, strong name you should be proud of. Did you know it is a Hebrew name, meaning happy or blessing ? I think you should remember that, dear." She patted him on his arm, and Drew studied the incongruous couple as he unpacked the bags.

Never in this lifetime would he have predicted a man like Ash Davis would willingly spend time with his elderly grandmother. Then again, he couldn't imagine why the sight of Ash with his grandmother sent his heart thumping in a peculiar rhythm. "Is anyone else coming, Nana?" He noticed quite a bit of food in the refrigerator when he put his purchases inside.

"Well, the other boys said they might stop by, and Rachel always comes to check on me, even though she says it's to say hello. You can pick up some Chinese food for dinner; those are merely snacks to tide you all over." Hands planted on her hips, she fixed him with a pretend glare, her blue eyes kindled like a gas flame. "You two don't fool me, you know. I see right through everything."

"We love you and want to make sure you're okay." Drew popped a mozzarella ball into his mouth. "I don't see anything wrong with that." He opened the box of crackers and sat at the table. "Do you, Ash?"

Sitting at the table, his chin propped in his hands, Ash stared out of the window to the backyard garden. "I think it would be nice to have people who care enough about you to want to make sure you're safe, but I'm not the person to ask."

Nana threw Drew a sharp look to which he could only shrug his shoulders. With a determined look on her face, she walked over to Ash, and hesitated only a moment before putting her hand on his arm and speaking so softly Drew had to strain his ears to hear.

"Asher, darling. What's the matter? You look so sad today. Do you want to talk to me about it?" Her hand remained on his arm.

Drew could've told her not to waste her time or breath, that a man like Ash would never reveal himself to her. He turned his attention back to the cheese and reached for a bottle of Malbec.

"You know, Esther. I think I might like that very much."

So of all the people in Ash's life, his best friend Peter, Peter's wife, Drew, anyone , Asher Davis chose to unburden himself to his grandmother. Fucking unbelievable.