11. Lia

"Ash, are you up?"I don't want to bang on his door, but he did promise he'd take me to the Hudson station and I'd rather not have to catch a later train. "Asher!" He had two days' notice to get himself up to make sure he got me there in time. But he did tell me he had a software update to babysit last night.

I pound my fist a few times and I hear a groan from within his cave. He staggers to the door a moment later, prying it open and looking at me through one eye, puffy with sleep. "Ung?"

"Oh, Ash. We gotta go. You promised…"

He emits a growling sound and slaps his cheeks a few times. He nods his head and disappears inside his room, where I hear frantic shuffling and slamming sounds. Asher emerges a moment later dressed head to toe in black sweats, a black knit cap pulled down low over his hair, his bare feet shoved into a pair of black Crocs. "We can still make it," he grunts, pausing briefly in the kitchen to stare forlornly at the coffeemaker.

I hold up an insulated tumbler. "I've got you, boo."

Relief washes over his face as we open the back door and creak open the doors to his SUV. From down the lane I can see lights ablaze at Bedd Fellows. I smile, thinking of Ethan waking this early every day of his life to feed Baabara and prepare for a day of work so different from mine and Asher's. "You should have asked one of them to take you," Asher says, pointing through the trees to the big farmhouse, where I'm sure Ethel is scrambling a few dozen eggs for whichever Bedd children are still staying with her.

"They've got enough on their plate without driving me all over the place."

Asher nods and snaps on the radio. "Sure, you don't want me to take a peek at your numbers? Nobody plots datapoints like me, sis."

"Nobody except maybe the doctor with a degree in this stuff." I look at him in the gray light as the sun starts rising.

Asher grunts in response. I rest my head against the leather headrest and think about the past few years. I felt the furthest thing from beautiful after all the ulcers and weight loss and precarious bowels. How on earth could I feel sexy or desirable when I spent half my life in a bathroom? And then one day about a year ago, Richard touched my face during an appointment. He told me a new medication regimen would open exciting doors for me, and I cried in relief, and he brushed away a tear with his thumb.

I reported all of it to Asher, expecting him to be happy for me. Instead, he flew into monster big brother mode and has hated everything about my doctor-boyfriend ever since. It didn't seem to matter to Asher that Richard got approval from the medical board once he disclosed our relationship. My brother is just over-protective. We don't talk on the rest of the drive, listening to financial news. Asher stops outside the Hudson station, and I lean in to kiss his cheek before hustling off to catch the approaching train.

It's a nice, two-hour ride with plenty of leg room and WiFi, so I am fully caught up on all my work email and paperwork by the time I elbow my way through Penn Station and catch the subway to Richard's office.

I used to have to check in to the hospital for a half-day when I got my infusions, but now I can do it right in Richard's clinic. I hustle in the door and smile at Prachi at the desk. "Hey, Prach. I'm back!"

She smiles, her dark eyes crinkling at the corners as she rises to give me a hug. "Lia! Dr. Richard didn't tell us you were coming in today."

I frown. "Am I not on the schedule?"

Prachi waves a hand. "We always do you like a walk-in. It's a whole thing. You know."

I don't know, but I'll ask Richard about it later. Prachi leans down the hall and shouts to one of the nurses that I'm here for my infusion and soon I'm hugging Lynn and Javier as they usher me into a room full of reclining chairs. Richard's G.I. practice sees a lot of patients who need similar treatments to mine, and I wave at a few folks I don't recognize as they snooze by their IV poles. "Isn't Richard here?"

I strip off my warm layers and roll up my sleeve for Javi, who cleans my arm and has the needle inserted before I even feel the pinch. "He said he'd pop in." Javi flashes me a wide smile while Lynn hangs the bag of medication on the hook above the chair. "You're an easy one, Lia. Best veins I'll see today."

I smile and reach for my headphones, telling myself that Richard is obviously busy. He's a specialist physician in high demand, and I wasn't supposed to be here for another few weeks. I drift into a relaxed state, listening to an audiobook about agriculture. When Richard finally rushes into the room, it takes longer than I expect for my heart to warm at the sight of him.

"Babe! Sorry I wasn't here to greet you. It's been hectic—we're up for an NIH grant." He leans in and plants a kiss on my cheek. I wonder if it's the medication that has me feeling the moisture of his kiss more than I'd like.

I reach for him with my unencumbered arm, and he squeezes my hand briefly before his pager buzzes in his pocket. "I have to run. Are you still coming in two weeks when you were scheduled? I thought we could get dinner then. I want to introduce you to Bajwa from Columbia."

"Oh. I really hadn't planned to be away from the project again so soon. I thought we"d spend time together tonight." I don't have to remind him I can't just go to restaurants at the last minute without checking out the menu. The stress of meeting a famous researcher would make the meal even more precarious for my guts. Richard is often frustrated when I can't join him for networking drinks or, if I do, that I end up spending the night in the bathroom.

But his voicemail made me think he was eager to spend some time together. I sigh. It's not like I can stick around the clinic until he has free time—I sublet my apartment for a month since it didn't make sense for it to sit empty when I could use the extra cash. I'm starting to feel like a fool for not communicating expectations clearly with Richard. I guess we were both thrown by my bloodwork.

Richard winces and shakes his head. "Aw, Lia. I'm sorry. I really thought you'd come back in two weeks. I have rounds tonight at Mt. Sinai." His pager buzzes again and he pokes at it without looking. "I really have to start writing it down when you're coming in to infuse."

I want to ask him about that, why I'm flying under the radar, but he spins around in a swirl of white lab coat, like he's going to leave the room. "Richard, wait." My words come out harsher than I intended, but it's not like I can chase after him.

He spins around. I glance beside me at the other patients in the room and beckon him to come closer. I whisper, "I feel like you"re not prioritizing our relationship, and that"s not working for me. Can we talk abou?—"

He pats my hand. "Let"s put all of that on hold until you"re back in the city full time. Just focus on your health for now."

Before I can process his meaning, he swirls out of the room with a wave. I stare at the doorway, flabbergasted.

Every twenty minutes or so, Javi pops in to check on everyone in the chairs and, panicking at Richard's mysterious words, I beckon Javi over. "Hey," I ask him, pulling my earbuds out and silencing my audiobook. "Prachi said I'm not on the schedule? Something about paperwork?"

Javi shakes his head and taps on the bag of medication above my head. "Don't know what to tell you, chica. But I can say that you'll be out of here in about 15 minutes. Did I already say you have the best veins?"

I roll my eyes at him. "You did. And thanks for the speedy delivery."

After a visit to the clinic bathroom, because of course I need the bathroom, I look up the train schedule and message Asher to see if he can come get me today instead of tomorrow. I feel foolish and frustrated with Richard, totally confused that he didn't even tell me to hang out at his apartment so we could talk more about what he just said. I don't have time to worry about it for long before I'm back elbowing my way through the crowds to board the train, assuming Asher can pick me up and take me home.

Is it really my home? I pause at the thought of that word. I'm camped out in my childhood bedroom in a house that now belongs to my brother, so I can oversee the financial process and prevent foreclosure on my childhood boyfriend's farm. Nothing about this should feel homey or warm, and yet I can't stop smiling at the rare early March sunshine, thinking about Ethan starting to plant the strawberries in between his regularly scheduled soybean ventures.

Asher has yet to respond about coming to retrieve me, so I text him another reminder and then take advantage of the sunshine. I wander around Hudson, smiling at the fancy cheese shop and art gallery in the little town. There's nothing "po-dunk" about this place or Fork Lick, even if my hometown is smaller than this one.

I frown again, irritated with Richard for judging a place with different resources than the city. So many of the businesses here boast about their products coming fresh from local farms, local artisans. The shift to strawberries can be the beginning of a connected future for Ethan and his family if they let it.

And then, as if I conjured him into being, I see Ethan emerge from a hardware store that looks like it opened sometime around the start of the last century. His gaze is focused on a cardboard box he has tucked under one long, strong arm, and before I can understand my urge to do so, I shout his name from across the street.

Ethan halts in his tracks, squinting into the sun, and smiles when he sees me. I feel like I'm in an Aubrey Hepburn movie when he saunters over to my side of the street, grinning, and says, "Lia Thorne. What brings you here?"

I wave toward the train station. "I had some business back in the city today. Asher's picking me up."

Ethan flexes his free hand and I try not to stare at the bones. "Well, that seems foolish. I'm going back that way. Want to tell him you caught a ride?"

"I don't know if he'll check his phone once he's in work mode. I'd say he was only half likely to remember to come and get me to begin with."

Ethan chuckles as I text my brother that I found a ride home. There's that word again, home. Ethan sets his box on the seat beside him as I climb in, and then he frowns at the giant box. "Hang on. Let me get this in the back." Before I can protest, he climbs out and wedges the box in the tiny space behind the bench seat, which I'm assuming is pushed back as far as it can go to accommodate his long legs. The box creaks as he tries to shove it in.

"I can hold it," I suggest, not sure if I actually can. Whatever's in there seems heavy, based on his face turning red with strain.

Ethan shakes his head. "I'm not putting that anywhere near you. If I drive over a pothole it could decapitate you."

"I doubt it's that big of a risk. Weren't you going to put it next to you anyway?" My phone dings with a message from Asher:

k

That's it. Just one letter. I laugh at his predictability. Ethan gets the box behind his seat and climbs back up into the seat beside me. "What's in there anyway, that you couldn't get back in Fork Lick?"

"Fluted Coulter blade," he says, like I should know what that means. "Had to special order it after some of mine cracked."

"How does a … Coulter blade … get cracked?" I lean against the window as Ethan drives, trying hard not to stare at his hand on the ancient gear shift. I can see the tendons moving under his tanned skin, strong fingers casually working to put the truck in gear and … I need to stop looking. It's a losing battle, since not staring at his hand means my eyes are on his face. My thoughts are not pure or reserved.

Ethan talks about the perils of tilling the soil with old equipment, and I relax into the seat, enjoying the calm confidence he exudes when he talks about farming. "But you aren't doing all that yet? Because it's too early in the year?"

He nods. "I typically spend the winter looking after all our gear." He shrugs. "And apparently now learning all there is to know about berries."

"There are worse ways to spend a freeze." I let my head rest on the back of the seat. It smells like old leather and motor oil. Very different from the barely-used-new-car scent of my brother's vehicle. I, of course, don't drive in the city, so being in cars at all is a rarity for me.

Ethan's brother Jackson's voice starts crooning on the radio, and Ethan snaps it off with a harumph. I can certainly relate to sibling squabbles, and I don't mind the quiet.

The heat starts cranking in Ethan's truck as we drive in the sunshine, and I shrug out of my jacket, resting it on my lap.

"What the hell?" Ethan glances at my arm, his face twisted in concern.

I glance down, noticing the bandage in the crook of my elbow where my skin is still a bit yellow and green from last week's needle jab. "Oh. That's just from my doctor's office. I'll pull the gauze off when I can get home and change."

"They do that to you today? There's a bruise as big as one of Baabara's ears."

I sigh. "You'd think I'd stop bruising as easily after all this time. That's actually from my blood draw a bit ago." Ethan's face is stretched in every direction as his eyes fly wide and he bites his lip, clearly worried. "I told you I have Crohn's disease, and how my immune system attacks my body?" He nods, shifting gears and getting in the right lane so faster vehicles can pass him. I like that Ethan doesn't growl or grumble at them for being assholes. He just carries on at the speed his truck can go.

"I had my regular blood draw and things were a bit off, so I got my medication early. That's why I was in the city."

Ethan frowns. He's quiet for about a mile and it's really flipping hard not to make small talk while he works out what he wants to say. "So, you can get the bloodwork in Fork Lick but you have to go to the city for the medicine? How often, usually?"

I smile. "I had to drive to Climax for the bloodwork, but yes, I go to the city. I mean, I live in the city, so I just go to my doctor's office every six weeks or so for an infusion."

"That sounds serious."

I stare at him. "It is serious—the medication suppresses my immune system. But it's also routine for me. I don't know how to explain it. This is just part of my life." My stomach growls, punctuating my thoughts as Ethan makes the turn into the Fork Lick limits.

He pulls into my driveway—Asher's driveway—and puts the truck in park. "Is it safe for you to be here, helping us? Shouldn't you be closer to your medicine in case things get bad?"

I pat his hand and quickly withdraw from the contact. I barely feel it when I get stuck with needles, but touching Ethan Bedd is like gripping an electric fence. I'm surprised my hair isn't standing on end. This should be the time I tell him about Richard, how he's both my doctor and my future husband. But I don't tell him…because I'm not so sure it's still true, not after what Richard said today. I swallow. "There's a hospital not too far away. They can call my doctor, and he can get me sorted out pretty quickly. It's been a long time since I had a flare or a stomach emergency."

The organ in question gurgles again and Ethan nods. "You'd better get inside and feed yourself, from the sound of things."

I nod. "Thank you, Ethan, for the ride."

"Any time, Lia. I mean that."

His eyes bore into me, and I feel the truth of his words. I could ask him anything and he'd do his best to give it to me. I might not have realized that when I was a teenager in crippling pain. I can see it now, but I also know it's not fair of me to ask him for anything more meaningful than a ride home from the train station when my brother is AWOL.

I hurry into the kitchen and shove a quinoa bowl in the microwave before heading to the sink to scrub my arm. I'm prying off the medical tape when Asher makes his way into the room. "Was that Ethan's truck outside?"

I nod and give a final tug, pulling off the tape and gauze and smiling at the lack of blood on my arm. "He was in Hudson getting tractor parts."

Asher frowns but walks over to the microwave when it beeps and pulls out my bowl for me while I finish scrubbing my arm. He stirs my food for me while I dry my hands and I smile. "I, uh, guess I asked a lot of you when I said you couldn't tell Ethan I was sick." He presses his lips together. "I'm really sorry if I caused a rift between you. I know you used to be close."

Asher shrugs. "I was away at school anyway."

"But you came back. And Ethan says he hardly sees you."

Asher laughs. "I never see anyone, sis. I hate people."

"Yeah, yeah. Well thank you, anyway, for protecting my privacy." He opens his mouth and I tack on, "even if you didn't agree with it at the time."

Asher nods and wraps me in a stiff hug before grabbing a package of processed food from the fridge and slinking back into his darkened office.