"Asher. (knock knock) Asher, baby, open the door. You can't stay in there all week. You need to do your lessons and get some fresh air. Please, Tesoricco!"
"I have my window open. I have all the fresh air the Lord can provide!"
The door cracked open, and three notebooks popped out and then the door was immediately closed. Lena picked them up and flipped through them. All of Asher's work for the past week had been completed.
"This kid is too smart for his own good," she mumbled. She tucked the notebooks under her adm. "Can we please talk?"
"Hard pass," Asher said from the other side of the door.
"Asher Giuseppe Castillo! I want you to open this door!"
"THAT IS NOT MY NAME!"
"Oh, really. Then what is your name? Pain in my butt?"
"My name is Asher Guiseppe Gratiano!"
"Oh, for fucks sake." Lena leaned her forehead against the door. "No, your name is Asher Giuseppe Castillo, and it has been since the day I married your father."
"He is not my father! Mr. Dylan in my father."
"Asher, just please come out so we can talk."
"About what? If it's not about my real dad, I'm not interested."
"Will you at least come out and eat?"
"You can leave it by the door, please, and thank you. A peanut butter and jelly would be nice."
"You can't have that for every meal. You need to eat real food."
"Millions of second graders can't be wrong. It's food."
"Ash--"
"And a glass of milk with ice."
"Fuck." Lena walked away, took her phone out of her pocket, and walked towards the kitchen.
"Hey Bitch! What's going on? How is my favorite little hermit doing? Has he come out of his room yet, or is he still in there under protest?"
"He's still in there. He's doing his schoolwork. I should have never put a full bath in there. He's staying clean and going to the bathroom. I leave food outside the door. He has no reason to come out. Greta, what should I do?"
"You can stop leaving food by the door. Tell him if he wants to eat, he can come to eat at the table like a normal person?"
"I'm not withholding food from my son."
"I'm not telling you to starve the boy! I am telling you to stop Door Dashing his food."
"He'll go on a hunger strike. I know my son. He's as stubborn as his father."
"Which one?"
"Both. That's makes it twice the ass ache. Next."
"Turn off the Wi-Fi or turn the power off. He'll get bored and want to come out eventually."
"Then he can't do his schoolwork."
"Give him a couple hours a day."
"That might work. Anything else that won't compromise his education?"
"Hmmmm. Let's see. Oh, I know... Call. His. Father."
"Cole is busy with the wedding."
"Wrong father, dumbass and seriously? The prick can't take an hour out of his day to come help with his son!"
"He's been weird lately. I don't know. Maybe he's just stressed about the wedding, or maybe Morgan is filling his head with bullshit now that Ash fingered out Cole is not his father."
"Maybe Dylan was right. He told you that there was something off about Cole. Didn't he say Cole couldn't be trusted?
"I don't know what he was trying to say. It would have been easier if he just said it."
"Maybe he couldn't, you know, because Ash was there."
That didn't stop me from calling him a sperm donor. "He's just a pain in my ass."
"And you are still in love with him."
Lena sighed. "And I am still in love with him. Now, if you excuse me, I have a peanut butter and jelly to make. I love you."
"I love you too. Oh, really quick. How are things going with Evan?"
"Not going extremely far. He has come over a couple of times, but it's not like we can do much of anything. He has yet to meet Asher because he won't come out of his damn room. He said he doesn't need another dad in his life. ARGH! Dylan isn't even here, and I still can't get laid!"
Greta couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe I can come over and sit in the living room while Asher sits in his room. Then you can go out and get a little adult time."
"Oh my God, Greta, that would be epic! I do like him a lot. He knows me so well. I mean, he brought me my favorite flowers, my favorite food, my favorite flavor of ice cream, and he got me lilac oil for my defuser! The scary thing is, I never mentioned any of those things."
"You had to of mentioned them in passing. I mean I can see him getting one of those things right but all those. He either has insider information or a crystal fucking ball...or maybe he's observant and can smell."
"I don't think that's it and he's really interested in my past. Back when I was a Mistress, I mean, I know that he is a sub and all, but how many conversations can I have about it?"
"He just wants to know you, and you said he's really good friends with Stephan."
"Part of me thinks that he is trying to get dirt on Stephan for some reason. I don't know. Maybe I am just overanalyzing it."
"Well, be careful. You did tell me that you and your clients signed non-disclosure agreements. You could be in some serious shit if you said the wrong thing. Not to mention, you can be sued for thousands of dollars."
"Hundreds of thousands."
"Well, just be careful. Play your cards close to the vest. I'll be over in a couple of days. Call Evan and give him the good news."
"Will do! Have a good night, my BFF!"
"Goodnight, love."
"Asher, I have your sandwich. I'll just leave it by the door."
"Mama?" Asher's little voice squeaked.
"What baby?"
"You can come in if you want. I kinda miss your hugs and kisses on my cheeks."
A wide smile appeared on Lena's face. She tried hard not to cry. She slowly opened the door. "Hey, Tesoricco." She saw that his eyes were red, and his little cheeks were stained from tears. "Oh, my baby boy."
She took him into her arms, kissed him on the head, and looked around the room. The place was littered with uneaten sandwiches.
"Honey, you have hardly eaten anything. Baby, you must eat. Why are you not eating?"
"I don't know. I'm sad, and my tummy doesn't really get hungry."
"Then why are you having me bring you sandwiches three times a day."
"I didn't want you to worry and think that I wasn't eating."
"But you're not."
"I'm sorry, Mama. Please don't be mad at me." He snuggled into her.
She hugged him close. "I could never be mad at you, but you do need to eat. If you don't, you are going to be sick. I can already tell you don't feel good."
"Maybe if we called Mr. Dylan and I got to talk to him, I would feel like eating."
"Baby, you know that we can't do that. Mr. Dylan doesn't want to talk to us." Well me. Mr. Dylan doesn't want to talk to me.
"Just call him or text him. Yeah, text him. If he doesn't want to talk to me, then he can just say no."
"And what if he does say no? If he does, are you going to continue not to eat?"
"I guess we will cross that bridge if it comes to it. Let's see what he says, please, Mama."
"Will you eat some of your sandwich first?" she asked, running her fingers through his thick curls.
"Okay. I'll try, but I am not going to eat the crusts."
She kissed him on the top of her head and smiled. "You don't have to eat the crust."
It took about ten minutes, but he did eat half of his PB&J and drank his milk even though it hurt his tummy. He didn't tell his mom that part, or she would have kicked into over-worried mother mode.
"Okay, I kept up my end of the deal. Now, please text Mr. Dylan."
"You're right; you did. I will text him, and we will wait and see what happens." I hope he didn't block me or change his number.
LENA: Hi Dylan. I hope you read this message. Your son needs you right now. He just wants to talk to you.
She waited for the little check marks to turn blue to let her know it had been sent, received, and read. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding when she saw them turn blue.
"Okay, I guess he didn't block me. Thank God."
She watched the dots dance. Then stop, start, stop, and finally completely disappear. She watched for a couple of minutes; the dots didn't come back. When five minutes passed, she headed back toward Asher's room to let me know that he didn't answer. She was a couple of feet away when the dots started to do their dance.
DYLAN: Sorry it took me so long. I needed to think about what I was going to say. I don't know if it is a good idea for me to talk to Asher. I'm not even sure what I would say to him. I'm sorry, but you made it abundantly clear that I wasn't to be in his life. Tell him that I said I love him, and he will always be my Sport. I hope that he is doing okay.
LENA: That's the problem. He is most definitely not doing okay. He's in a bad way. He won't eat, he won't leave his room, he's lost weight, and I can tell that he's been crying... a lot. I tried to get Cole to come over and talk to him, but he has been preoccupied. Please, Dylan, just call and talk to him for five minutes. I give you my permission.
DYLAN: You give me your permission? Wow, thank you so much for that. I was hoping to get permission to talk to my own son, especially since you texted me and basically begged me to talk to him. You just always have to be in control, don't you?
LENA: I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Please call your son, but only if you want to. The choice will always be yours.
After an extraordinarily long minute, her phone rang. She still had the ringtone set to the song they were to have their first dance to at the wedding.
"Hey," she said hesitantly.
"Hey."
"How have you been?"
Dylan exhaled. "Lena, I called to talk to Asher, not catch up with you and exchange pleasantries."
"Sorry, I was trying to be civil and polite."
"Lena, you called me a sperm donor. You were one word away from telling my son he was conceived through artificial insemination."
"I know. Dylan, I am so deeply sorry for what I said, what I was going to say. You are not a sperm donor. I know that when he was conceived, there was nothing but love there."
"Thanks for the apology. I will not accept it, but thank you nonetheless. Now, let me talk to my son."
"Dylan, please--"
"Let me talk to my son, Lena. That's why I called. You told me he wasn't doing well. I didn't call to talk to you."
Lena felt her eyes begin to prickle. She just admitted to Greta that she still loved him, and she could tell that he had nothing but contempt and hate for her.
"Okay, hold on. Asher! Mr. Dylan is on the phone. I mean, your daddy is on the phone."
Dylan felt his heart squeeze. He didn't know if it was joy because she referred to him as Daddy or sadness because he wasn't there being his daddy.
He heard his little voice. "REALLY!" Asher squealed.
"Yes, Tesoricco." She handed him the phone.
"Mr. Dylan, is that really you?"
"Hey Sport! How have you been?"
"Sad. Like really super sad."
"Your mom said that you aren't eating very much. Is that why? Because you're sad?"
"I guess so. I'm the most sad I've ever been in my whole life. Even more sad than I was when Mr. Tibbles died."
"Oh no. Who's Mr. Tibbles?"
"My hamster. I told you about him."
"You did. I don't think you ever told me his name, but I am sure Mr. Tibbles, if he were there, would be sad to know that you are not eating."
"I don't think Mr. Tibbles cared much about my eating habits."
Dylan let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I guess you're right about that. You know, Sport, you have to leave your bedroom. You have to eat. Mommy is worried about you."
Asher was silent for a moment. "Daddy?"
Dylan thought his heart was going to explode. The lump in his throat was so large that he was sure it was going to suffocate him. He swallowed hard, but the lump didn't seem to want to move.
He cleared his throat. "What Sport?"
"Will you please come back home?"
Dylan squeezed his temples between his thumb and forefinger. "Asher, you can call me or text me anytime your little heart desires, but your place was never my home. Not really."
"Mama says home is wherever the people you love are. Don't you love us anymore?"
"Sport, you know that I love you. I have loved you from the moment I looked into your eyes."
"But you don't love Mama, and that is why this can't be your home."
Lena's stomach dropped. "Asher! I think that is enough for today."
He sighed, and a frown came over his face. "Mama said I have to go now. Thanks for calling me Daddy."
"Alright, Sport. Will you do me a favor?"
"Sure, Daddy."
"You need to eat."
"But--"
"If you don't eat, you'll never grow big and strong. Don't you want to grow up and be like your..." Dylan swallowed. "Dad?"
"I can be as big and strong as you are when I grow up?"
"Yes, you can. I would like you to so we can play football together. Please, son."
"Okay. I'll do my best. My tummy hurts when I eat."
"Asher, you didn't tell me that," Lena said, sounding concerned.
Asher ignored her comment as he held the cell phone as close to his face as possible, like he was trying to go through the phone to be with Dylan.
"Your best is all that I can ask for, Sport."
"I miss our fun. I miss playing games and seeing how many marshmallows we can stuff in our mouth and eat pizza while we watch The Muppets."
"I do too, Sport. We'll talk soon. Okay? I love you."
"I love you too, Daddy."