Demanding Ransom

Chapter TWENTY-THREE



“This is a pretty good list.” Ran taps the pen to his lip, on that dip right in the middle that I’ve sort of become obsessed with since the hot tub kiss. He’s propped up on his elbows and looks down at the sheet of paper resting on the pillow underneath him. I rotate my head to the side and glimpse the crinkled parchment lying there. “Can you think of anything else?”

“Not at the moment,” I say, sliding deeper under the covers. Today has been tiring in so many ways and my body begs for some rest. “Did you get the sunrise one?” My words are slow, like I’ve been drinking, but I’m really just drunk with sleep. It has to be well past midnight.

Ran bites down on the tip of the pen and nods. “Stay up long enough to see a sunrise and sunset in the same day.” He lifts the paper up and brings it closer to his face and then flips it over to examine the backside. “How long are we allowing for all of these? Because it looks like there’s a fair amount of travel, and money, involved.”

“I think we should give ourselves the summer. That’ll give us six months to plan.”

Ran’s lips purse. “Good idea. This one is my favorite.” He grins and shoves the paper my direction, skimming his finger across the note scribbled there.



Do something permanent on a whim and do something temporary after meticulous planning.

“That is going to be the hardest one. I’m not good at permanent.”

Ran glances down at his bare chest and arm covered in ink. “I am,” he smiles.

“And how do you plan for something temporary? I can’t even come up with an example.”

“Our entire list.” He flips onto his side and a gust of air puffs out of him. “Once we finish everything on it, we can have some list burning ceremony or something. This isn’t meant to be permanent—if it is, that means we’re dragging our feet and not actually doing what we set out to do.”

He softly places a kiss on the tip of my nose and folds the note into quarters. “Get some sleep. Let me know if you come up with anything else in the morning.” The bed frame creaks as Ran rolls off of it, our well-thought-out list between his fingers. “This right here is the perfect example of doing something incredible with someone incredible. This is going to be awesome, babe.”

I perk up, popping up onto my elbows, and shove the cover down so I can see him. “Did you just call me babe?”

I can see Ran’s cheeks flush even in the darkness. “Uh, yeah. I was trying it out.” He shifts his weight. “Didn’t stick?”

“I don’t know.” I wobble my head back and forth. “It just surprised me.”

“Sorry, angel. I won’t call you babe anymore.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“Pumpkin, you don’t like angel, either?”

“No.” I shake my head and my finger at him. “Definitely not pumpkin. That makes me feel like I’m round and fat and have a bad spray tan.”

Ran laughs. “Okay, sweetie, I won’t call you pumpkin.”

“See, with sweetie I just think of candy, and that sounds like the name of a stripper, and that’s just gross.”

“Sweetie it is.” Ran shoots me a coy grin and then thumbs his chin and knits his brow together. “How about love.”

My readied insult catches in my throat. “Love?”

“Yes, because that’s what I feel for you—in every sense of the word.”

I slide back into the warmth of the bed. “I don’t know. You’ll have to try it out and see. I could get used to it.”

Ran skirts the edge of the bed and rounds the corner to stand at my side. He dips down and presses a warm kiss against the shell of my ear. “Get some rest, my love.”

I smile, my eyes close, and I start to slip into that limbo of haze that comes before sleep.

I hear Ran tread lightly across the room toward the door and when the hinges squeal quietly as he opens it, he whispers over his shoulder. “I really do love you, Maggie. Don’t ever forget that.”

“You too, Ran. And there’s absolutely no way I ever will.” I roll over onto my side, drawing the cotton sheets up under my chin. “That list is awesome,” I speak into the dark of the room, knowing he’s standing silently by the doorframe because even though I can’t make him out, I can sense his presence still here with me. “I can’t wait to experience everything on it with you.”

“Me too,” he says sweetly, softly. “It’s not like we need a list of activities to fill our time, but it’s fun to plan out my future with you. I love knowing that you’ll be a part of all of my adventures from now on.” The door creaks open and he steps through it. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The door slips shut and I slink into the welcoming depths of sleep.



The sickening sound of retching on the other side of the thin wall jolts me out of my hard earned slumber. Mikey had texted earlier saying they’d admitted him to the hospital for more tests and will keep him through the weekend. They wanted to rule out any possible tumor growth, any unforeseen changes in his progress. No doubt it’s been an exhausting day for him playing the dreaded waiting game.

I blink the sleep from my eyes but it takes longer to leave my brain and when everything finally comes into focus visually and mentally, I remember I’m at my mom’s cabin, and that’s not Mikey on the opposite wall. The retching happens again, this time accompanied by a distinct cry at the end—a whimper following the sickening gagging. A child’s cry. It’s not Mikey this time. It’s one of the twins.

I skulk out of bed and glide my feet into my slippers, tug a sweatshirt over my head, and emerge into the hallway to see who is up sick. A strip of light stretches the length of the bathroom door and I can hear voices on the inside, Brittany and Valerie, though I don’t know which belongs to which girl. I don’t even know how to tell them apart when I’m staring them straight in the face. Distinguishing their voices behind a block of wood is like playing “Guess what’s behind door number two.” I definitely won’t win at that game.

That’s when I hear a third voice, and there’s no question at all as to whom it belongs.

“It’s okay,” I hear him whisper, followed by a soothing, shushing sound that causes a calm to wash over me. “You’re going to be fine.”

I tiptoe toward the bathroom and rap lightly on the molding encasing the door with my knuckle.

“Hey,” I whisper, my hand on the brushed silver handle. “Is everything okay?” I slowly press the door open and glimpse Ran, Valerie, and Brittany huddled on the tile floor, Brittany hugging the toilet, sitting in Ran’s lap, and Valerie slunk down on the floor next to them, her sleepy head resting on his broad shoulder.

“Yeah,” Ran says quietly, his eyes flickering over to the twin wrapped around the toilet bowl. “Brittany just has a little tummy ache.” He runs his palm over her tumbling golden curls. Her bloodshot eyes glance up at me.

“Mommy always says not to wake her up,” Valerie informs as I crouch down to their level. “Brittany gets upset tummies a lot, so I help her instead.”

Ran gives me a troubled look over the top of Valerie’s head and I exchange the same heartbroken expression. “I heard them in here about a half hour ago,” he explains.

As if on cue, poor Brittany lurches forward again, her tiny arms trembling as she dry heaves into the bowl. Tears stream down her chubby cheeks and Ran reacts instantly, wrapping his hands around the collection of hair at the nape of her neck, securing them in his strong hand as a ponytail. Her small frame and his formidable one are the exact opposite of one another, and the tenderness he shows as he sweeps her face with the soft back of his hand does something to me that I didn’t expect. The blur collecting at the edges of my eyes makes it feel as though the entire bathroom is submerged in water and I’m sinking into it. I gasp for air because he keeps stealing it from me.

“Shhh,” he soothes, running a wet washcloth across her forehead. “It’s okay.”

I slide my back down the wall and seat myself right next to Valerie. She angles her face toward mine, and for the first time I notice that she has a smattering of tiny freckles peppering her upturned nose. I don’t think Brittany has those. I’ll have to remember that.

“Mommy says her juice makes her sleepy.” Valerie shimmies her weight toward me and presses her face to my shoulder. I panic, not having any clue as to how I am supposed to respond. Nurturing is not something in my nature. “She says never to wake her.”

I’m sure she does. I’m sure Mommy’s “juice” makes waking her an impossible task.

“You done for now?” Ran asks as Brittany swivels around to him, planting her cheek against his chest, her eyes barely open. She gives him a heavy-eyed, lethargic nod. “Here. Just rest, okay? I’ll be right here if you get sick again.” Brittany curls further into Ran, tucking her legs up under her to fit in the hollow of his cross-legged lap, and she brings her hands up to her face between her cheek and his chest like she’s praying. “You’re going to be fine,” he murmurs against the crown of her blonde hair.

I gaze down at Valerie and she’s completely out, drool pooling at the corner of her mouth, catching on the fabric of my sweatshirt. She’s not at all a peaceful looking sleeper, and I realize that might be a trait we have in common as I remember my drool-filled nap session in the truck on the way up to the cabin.

“Sorry we woke you,” Ran whispers, his hand still sliding through Brittany’s hair. I’d always wondered what that would feel like, to have someone run their fingers across your scalp when you were sick. My dad took care of me when I’d been ill in the past, but he’s not much of a physically affectionate man. He’s an incredibly compassionate person for sure, but his kindness and care don’t take the form of physical touch, but words and acts of service instead. So Dad never ran his fingers through my hair. In fact, the only person to ever do that was Brian, and the memory of it spikes something in my gut.

The first time I thought I was actually in love with Brian was when I was sprawled across the tile floor, vomiting up a night’s worth of mistakes in the form of regurgitated alcohol. I thought I loved him because of the way he took care of me, the way he held my hair and rubbed my back. But he had been there all night, encouraging me to take another drink, to have just one more shot. In the back of his mind, I’m sure he hoped to get something out of it—out of me being dead to the world in my drunken stupor. But all he got was a vomit-covered sweatshirt and a girlfriend with an angry hangover the next day.

I open my eyes to stop the memory from replaying and look across the bathroom toward Ran and the two near-strangers cuddled up against us. He has absolutely nothing to gain, other than possibly getting infected with whatever Brittany has. While I always thought Brian was being selfless that night, staying up with me while I teetered on the brink of needing medical attention and the edge of unconsciousness, there was absolutely nothing selfless in his act at all. He was obligated to take care of me, to make sure I didn’t end up with alcohol poisoning or worse. He was my boyfriend. I’m sure that duty is written in some relationship handbook somewhere.

“I thought I’d fallen in love in a bathroom before,” I speak after several minutes of calm silence.

Ran’s tired eyes flick open. “What?”

“Back when I was in high school,” I begin, “Brian and I went to some frat party and I got totally wasted. I was up all night, curled around the toilet, and Brian was there. I thought what he showed me was compassion, because it was more than anyone else had ever given me before.”

Hurt pulls at Ran’s eyes and his muddled expression lessens. “Maggie…”

“I thought I loved him because of what he did for me. But he was obligated to. I was his girlfriend and he was pretty much the reason for the condition I was in.” I shake my head at the recollection. “That wasn’t love. With Brian. That was never love.”

Brittany shifts in Ran’s lap and mumbles something inaudible. Ran shushes her softly and she settles back in, her head pressed at the crook of his neck.

“I love you, Ran,” I whisper. I can feel the warmth of Valerie’s drool seeping through my sleeve, and instead of being disgusted, I find it unnaturally endearing.

“I love you too, Maggie.”

“And thank you,” I say, rolling my head to the side against the wall to look right at him. When our eyes meet, my chest tightens.

“For what?” He cocks his head slightly, unsure.

I slink an arm around Valerie and hug her close. “For replacing the memory of that night with this one.” I close my eyes and pull in a long breath through my nostrils, feeling like it’s the first time in the past ten years that I’ve truly been able to gather air. I swallow quietly and continue, “And for replacing my idea of what love really is.”



At some point we all fall asleep, but it’s that hesitant slumber your body won’t fully succumb to. Like when you nod off in the car and your head rolls against the headrest, and every time your neck catches it, you wake up. I’ve been doing that for the past half hour and Ran wakes with my last jolt. I must have startled loudly that time.

“Let’s get them in bed,” Ran whispers, gradually pushing off of the floor. He wraps a hand around Brittany’s waist and she slings her arms around his neck. I pull Valerie off of the ground, but she readily stands and walks with me groggily toward their shared room.

There’s a bed on either side and I’m grateful that Valerie seems to be an alert sleep walker, because I’d never know whose was whose. She drops onto the covers and starts snoring instantly. I pull up a handmade quilt tucked at the base of the bed and drape it across her. “Night,” I whisper and she just gives me a faint, sleepy smile in return.

Ran’s lowering Brittany onto her bed when her eyes open slightly, squinting in the dark. I hear them exchange a few words, and then Ran kneels on the floor against the bedframe and his low voice echoes softly. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but catch Brittany’s sweet “thank you” at the end of their dialogue.

“Of course,” Ran smiles and brushes a kiss across Brittany’s forehead. Everything in me melts.

After tucking her into her bed, he guides me gently by my elbow out into the hall toward my room. I don’t think he’s slept all night, and the stagger in his walk gives that away.

“What were you two saying in there?” I ask, my curiosity showing through.

“She asked if I would pray with her. So we were praying.” Ran slumps his shoulder into the wall next to the opening to my room.

“Praying?” I spin on my heel. “You mean, like, to God?”

Ran grins widely. “Yeah, like, to God.”

I shake my head and it’s dizzy with sleep. “I don’t believe in God,” I openly admit.

“That surprises me, Maggie.” Ran leans further into the wall, resting his head against the flat surface. His arms are folded across his chest and his ankles cross over one another as well.

“It shouldn’t,” I assert. “My mom deserted us when I was ten. Mikey is possibly dying of cancer. And up until a few days ago, we thought Sadie might have been pregnant.”

“And that’s God’s fault?”

“Uh,” I start, “yeah.”

Ran nods. “So then he’s to blame for your car accident and your leg, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I don’t know where he’s going with this.

“Then it would also be his doing that you were rescued by a handsome knight in shining armor riding in on his white ambulance.”

That one gets a slight smirk from me. “No. That was fate.”

Ran shakes his head with laughter. “Well.” He shrugs his shoulders up to his ears. “Call him what you want. God’s had worse nicknames than that.” He shoves off the wall with his shoulder. “Goodnight, love. I’ll see you in just a few hours.” With one last kiss placed on the tip of my nose, Ran shuffles around me and disappears into his room.