The One
“No way.”
“Way.”
“A cop?” Beth said, her voice raised an octave.
“One of Providence’s finest,” I replied.
She took a sip of coffee, and then shook her head. “I don’t believe it. Chad hasn’t said a word.”
“Ryan hasn’t told anyone.”
“He told you.”
My eyebrows shot up. An explanation consisting of Claire, explosions, and the ice blue eyes in Ryan’s memory would take the conversation to an unfavorable end, so I kept it simple.“Touché.”
The bell above the coffee ship door chimed, and we both looked up, waiting for Kim.
“Where is she?” Beth asked, disappointed.
“Late.” I knew she was with Jared, but I couldn’t exactly share that with Beth. She was the last bit of normal I had left, and I wasn’t going to share her with the crazy part of my life—even if that meant lying.
“Was Jared just pissed beyond belief?”
“Um…kind of. I guess. But not about that.”
“What about, then?”
“That he pulled us over for no reason, I suppose.” I lied again. For a moment I silently counted how many non-truths I had told her in the span of just a few minutes, and wondered how many more I would have to tell. Beth was my best friend, but it was for her own good. If there was a lesson to be learned in the chaos of my life, ignorance was bliss.
Beth and I chatted about upcoming papers to write, meetings at work, the upcoming Christmas party that Sasha had been obsessing over, and of course, Ryan.
“We’d better get going,” Beth said, glancing at her watch.
“The wind is terrible today,” I said, pulling on my coat, hat and scarf. The snow was falling in large chunks, and the street had already turned into a gray, slushy mess.
“I know, it sucks,” Beth said. “Fall is non-existent here.”
“Oh. Right. You don’t get much snow in Oklahoma, do you?”
Beth laughed once in disbelief. “Yes we get snow. Sometimes a foot or so. It’s just on top of an inch of ice.”
“But…it’s a southern state.”
“So?” Beth said, waiting for more crazy to come out of my mouth.
“Never mind.”
We walked to the Beemer together, trying to navigate the patches of snow that hadn’t been cleared.
“Hi,” a deep voice said, greeting us.
“Ryan!” Beth said, throwing her arms around our friend.
He was in plain clothes, leaning against my car nonchalantly. He didn’t seem nervous or out of place at all, until Beth smacked him, hard, on the back of the head.
“Hey!” Ryan said, defending his head with his hands from another blow.
“What is wrong with you? Taking off on all of us like that, going off to war, and not letting us know you’re okay, or that you’re back in town? We’ve all been worried sick! Chad is gonna be pissed!
“Okay, okay!” Ryan said, bracing for another assault. “I’m sorry.”
Beth relaxed. “If you haven’t called him by the time I get home tonight, I’m telling him. And you are so going to get it.”
“I’ll call him. I’ll call everyone, I’ve just been kinda…I don’t know what to say.”
“Say, ‘I’m home.’” Beth crossed her arms, unimpressed with his wounded expression.
“Take it easy, Beth,” I said. “He just needed to come back on his own terms.”
“Exactly,” Ryan nodded, thankful for my explanation. “I came to ask you to dinner. We have some talking to do.”
“O…Okay,” I said, surprised.
“Jared’s not going to like that,” Beth lilted.
“Where do I pick you up? Jared’s place?”
“It sort of burned down,” I said, shifting.
Ryan didn’t flinch. “Okay, so where, then?”
“We’re at Cynthia’s for now.”
Ryan’s eyes were always the windows to his thoughts. That was one thing that his experiences hadn’t taken away from him. He was planning something.
“Seven o’clock?” he asked.
“How about I meet you there?”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Wherever you’re wanting to eat.”
“I haven’t decided, yet. I’ll just pick you up.”
I sighed in frustration. “See you at seven, then.”
Ryan walked away like a robot accepting a command. He offered no smile, or any other expression, too preoccupied with his next move.
“That was weird,” Beth said, pulling on the handle. “Open up, already, it’s freaking freezing!”
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” I said, rolling my eyes and clicking the keyless entry.
Throughout the day, I waited for Jared’s call. He hadn’t come home that morning, passing on the message via Bex that he and Kim were in Woonsocket, just south of the Massachusetts line. Bex assured me that it was to speak with the priests of St. Anne’s, and he wouldn’t be engaging the enemy.
At lunch, I called Bex. “Why hasn’t he called?”
“He’ll call,” Bex said, bored.
“Why did Kim go if they’re just going to a church?”