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“I was off by six points,” Asher laughed.
“Six points you would’ve gotten had you gone to those prep courses,” he replied.
“Oh, let him live, Ray. It’s not like he’s doing magic tricks for change on the Boulevard,” Veronica said. “How many awards have you won for your writing now?”
“Between ten and fifteen,” Asher answered.
“See? He’s so successful, he can’t even keep count,” she quipped.
“How are your cars coming along?” asked Raymond.
“I’m actually working on the Fleetwood right now,” said Asher.
“Ah, the big one. I remember when that monstrosity used to roam the roads back in ‘74. Damn near impossible to parallel park, but boy, what a car,” Raymond mused wistfully.
“You’ll have to take a ride with me on some sunny Sunday once I get her purring like she used to,” he said. “If you have the time, that is.”
“I’m a busy man, no doubt about that. But I can always make time for my favorite youngest son,” Ray assured him.
“How sweet. Ash, have you talked to your brother lately?” Veronica piped up.
“We text sometimes, but you know Andrew’s always on-call,” Asher said.
Andrew was a well-respected local surgeon with his own highly successful private practice. For as long as Asher could remember, he had been measured up against Andrew. His older brother was a lifelong overachiever, which only set the bar even higher when Asher came along. The pair of them got along well, but there was no denying the undercurrent of competition between them, stoked by their parents’ own high achievements. They were a family of go-getters, and it was a lot to live up to.
“Write any hits lately?” Raymond asked.
Asher smiled. His parents still had only a vague idea of what his work entailed. Compared to being a lawyer, scientist, or surgeon, Asher’s career seemed a little nebulous.
“Working on it. In fact, I just signed on with a new client,” he said.
“Ooh! Anyone we might’ve heard of?” Veronica asked.
“Not yet,” he said. “But maybe I can change that.”
“That’s the spirit! My boy can turn anyone into a star,” Raymond boasted.
“Is she pretty?” asked his mom slyly.
“Yes. But ‘no’ to the follow-up question,” Asher said, planning ahead as usual.
“I wasn’t going to imply anything, Ash,” his mom backpedaled. “But you know, one of these days you’re going to meet the girl of your dreams, and you’re going to be so focused on your work you won’t even notice her.”
He wanted to say, “Trust me, it’s impossible not to notice Giselle.” But the last thing he needed was for his mother to think Giselle was ‘the one’. He would never hear the end of it. If there was one thing his parents wanted more for him than success, it was true love. Raymond and Veronica had been happily married for over thirty years, and were the very portrait of a supportive, loving marriage. Growing up with them as an example set yet another very high standard for Asher, this time regarding his love life.
If it wasn’t true love, if it wasn’t the romance of the century, it wasn’t worth the distraction. After all, Asher had goals to reach.
“He’s a working man, Veronica. He’ll get married when he’s ready,” Raymond said.
“Of course, dear. Asher, honey, you take your time,” she relented.
“Speaking of time, we’d better start getting ready for the office soiree,” he said. “I need to show up before Eddie gets there and poaches all the best hors d'oeuvres.”
“Have fun tonight,” Asher said. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
His parents laughed good-naturedly. “Just a little wine and schmoozing, then we’re home and in bed with the white noise machine on by nine-thirty,” Raymond promised.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ve got an event tonight, too, with that new client I mentioned,” Asher said.
