I smile at him with my hands gripped on his shoulders. “Me too.”
Placing his hand behind my neck, he draws me in so he can kiss me. He keeps the kiss short then pulls me down to sit on his knee. The room is dark as we stare at each other with our foreheads resting together. Being like this with him, in this quiet room, is peaceful. Neither one of us speaks as we sit here together.
“We should go downstairs,” I whisper.
Whispering back, he says, “Not yet.”
We stay like this, me on his knee, foreheads together, when Connor comes bursting through the door.
“Busted!” he shouts.
I jump up, and Ryan turns to him. “What do you mean?”
“Bailey had chocolate on her face and Mom is blaming you.”
“Okay, kid, let’s go face the firing squad.”
When Connor starts running back downstairs, Ryan and I follow.
“What did you feed these kids?” Tori asks Ryan.
“I’ll never tell, and neither will they,” he jokes as the kids start laughing uncontrollably. “Call it a going-home present,” he says with a wink.
“Payback’s a bitch. Just remember that, Ryan. One of these days, when you have kids, you’ll see.”
Ryan laughs at her, and I try to stifle my laugh as well. Watching their playful banter is pretty funny.
?????
The house is quiet and still. Everyone left about an hour ago, and I have been curled up on the couch, reading one of my favorite childhood books I found on the bookshelf, since I got out of the shower. Ryan is upstairs, getting cleaned up, while I drink a cup of hot tea and read as the rain trickles down the large windows that look out to the beach.
“Where’s Ryan?” Donna asks as she walks into the room.
“He’s taking a shower.”
She grabs a couple blankets and joins me on the couch. “Here, cover up. It’s cold.”
Draping the blanket across my lap, I set the book down and say, “Thanks.”
She wraps up in her blanket and asks, “How are you doing, dear?”
“Good actually. I’m sorry I wasn’t around much to visit with everyone. I hope no one thought I was being rude.”
“No one thought that. Please, no need to apologize.”
“It’s just . . . I’m not used to being around a large group. It’s a little overwhelming for me.”
“You don’t need to explain. Everyone loves you. It was a nice surprise to have you, and Ryan seems really happy.”
“Oh,” I say, not sure how to respond to her statement.
“Ryan said he went to meet your parents on Christmas Eve. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had a chance to ask him about it. How did it go?” she questions.
Looking down at my tea, I shake my head. “Not well.”
She reaches over and places her hand on my knee. “What happened?”
I sit there, trying to figure out where I should begin. I’ve been so busy the past few days that I haven’t had much time to think about our fight. Now that I am searching for the words, the finality of our fight plays back in my head. I swallow hard against the lump in my throat, and when I open my mouth to speak, I can’t seem to get anything out. I close my mouth and stare into Ryan’s mother’s eyes.
“Oh, sweetie,” is all she says when she scoots closer and wraps me in her arms.
How is it that this woman I just met yesterday seems to read me better than my own mother? Why can’t my mother just love me? Why has she never loved me? My thoughts become too much, and I begin to weep quietly as Donna rubs my back. My mother has never comforted me like this, not even when I was a little girl. When I was younger, it was always the nanny who would lie with me when I got sick, or put Band-Aids on my knees when I would fall off my bike. Why couldn’t I have had a loving family like Ryan’s?
“Do you want to tell me about what happened?” she asks as she pulls away.
Wiping my tears, I decide to open up to her. “We got in a bad fight. It wasn’t good. They told me they were done with me and not to come back.”
“My God,” she says quietly in shock.
“What’s worse is that Ryan heard it all.”
“Ryan would never judge you for that.”
“I hope not, but it was embarrassing nonetheless.”
“What were you arguing about?” she asks.
“The same thing we always fight about. They aren’t happy with my choices. I’m not good enough. I don’t measure up to the name they work hard for.” Donna leans over to the end table and hands me a box of tissues. I pull one out and wipe the tears from my cheeks. “It’s always been this way, but then at Thanksgiving my mother told me that I was nothing but an embarrassment to her.”
“I’m so sorry, dear. No child should ever have to hear that.”
“Hear what?” Ryan questions, and when I look up, I see him walking down the stairs. He crosses the room and comes to sit next to me on the couch as I face his mother. I try not to look at him as he wraps one of his arms around me.
“Candace is telling me about what happened the other night.”
“Mom.”
“It’s fine,” I say.
Covering my hand with hers, she asks, “Do you have any other family at all?”