“She’s a trip,” Ryker says as he follows me up the stairs to my apartment.
“No kidding, huh?” Unlocking the door, I leave it open for Ryker to fall in behind me.
“So, your mom . . .” Ryker starts as he sits on the couch. “What happened there?”
A slightly-psychotic laugh escapes me as I get us bottles of water.
“What happened there? Where do I start?”
I tell Ryker about my mom’s reaction to the first time I saw him at Atkins, through the boys’ birthday party and up to her unconventional Christmas card and our awkward conversation after that.
“She apologized?” Ryker’s appropriately shocked.
“Mmhmm. It really was a Christmas miracle,” I snort.
Ryker picks at something imaginary on his palm. “How long has it been since you’ve cut?”
Oh. Well then . . .
“Seven months,” I answer confidently, pulling his eyes toward mine with my words.
Ryker’s eyes glass over as he stands and walks to the kitchen, resting his hand on the back of a chair, bowing his head just slightly.
“Ry?” I pace behind him, gently placing my hand on his shoulder.
“Have you wanted to cut at all in the last seven months?” he asks without looking up.
“A few times,” I whisper.
“Why?”
I shrug. “It’s just . . . a faulty coping mechanism, Ry. What’s . . . what’s going on?”
Ryker turns to me, his broken look threatening to swallow me. “Do I make you want to cut?”
“Oh, Ryker,” grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt, I press my forehead into his chest, “no. Not at all.” I lift my head and find him studying me. “My cutting is not about you, or my boys, or anyone else. It’s about me, and it’s something I’ll always be working on.”
Ryker stares between me and the space behind my shoulder for a moment. “Can you come to the farm with the boys next weekend? I’d like to show them how we start the seeds, and some other things.”
“Uh, sure, that shouldn’t be a problem.” I’m taken slightly aback by the determination on his face.
“Awesome. Okay, I’ve gotta run and get some work done, but call me this week.” He sniffs away the tears that were previously brewing in his eyes.
“Sure.” Releasing his shirt I barely realized I was still clutching, I back up so he can get through the kitchen and to the door. “Thanks for coming with me today.”
“Well, I’d say anytime, but,” he laughs, “Marion’s already made that clear, hasn’t she?”
“Ha! Yeah, she has. I’ll call you this week.”
Until I see you again . . .
Chapter 48
One week turns into three, thanks to back-to-back bouts of the flu with Max and Ollie. Getting through Ollie’s first illness since becoming deaf was a real challenge. I couldn’t ask him questions while he was half asleep with his eyes closed—he needed to have his eyes open and be focusing on me. It was frustrating for all of us. Ryker was more than understanding, and we’ve made plans for me to take the boys there this morning, before I bring them to Eric’s this afternoon.
On my way out the door, my phone rings.
“Hey Tosh, what’s up?”
“Are you free tonight?”
“I should be,” I reply as I situate the boys in the car. “I’m taking the boys to Ryker’s farm right now, then dro—”
“You’re what?” she cuts in.
“Tosh,” I sigh, “I told you all of this already.”
“Oh, that’s right, right after you told me that you spent Christmas night alone, your soldier friend died, and Ryker flew home to come to the funeral.” Her tone is less than amused. Tosha was thoroughly displeased that I didn’t call her with any of that while she was in Hawaii.
“Tosh . . .”
“I know, I know,” she relents, “you were trying to handle everything yourself. Just . . . don’t do that all the time, okay?”
I start the car and head for Ryker’s. “All right. Fine. What do you want me for tonight, anyway?”
“Dinner?”
“Sure, I’ll come over after I drop the boys off.”
“K, bye.”
Before tossing the phone to the passenger seat, I decide to call Ryker to let him know we’re on the way.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Ryker, it’s Nat. We’re on our way.”
“You sound nervous.” I can hear a slight grin through his voice.
“A little,” I sigh. “Remember, just talk slowly so—”
“I will, Nat. No worries.”
Ryker and I exchanged several texts through the week about my nerves surrounding bringing the boys to a new place. He’d told me he was excited to talk to them about seeds, and plants, and things like that, and I had to remind him to talk slow enough so I could have time to sign for Ollie. I also asked him for a list of things he thought he might talk about with them, so I could have half a prayer at translating appropriately for Ollie.