“Night, you two, I’ll send Daddy in.” I walk out of their room and meet Eric as he comes down the hall. “They want to say night to you.” I cock my head toward their bedroom door and head into our bedroom.
Dinner was quiet tonight. I tried to avoid eye contact with Eric—still livid that he called Tosh about my cutting—but every time I looked at him, he was staring back with nothing but sweetness in his eyes. Maybe I’m crazier than I thought, or maybe he feels a weight off his chest since he tattled on me to my best friend, but that man cannot hold a grudge to save his life.
I’m just climbing into bed when Eric comes in from saying goodnight to Max and Ollie, the proud smile on his face he always has after spending time with them. I wonder what people see on my face when I’m out with my kids. It’s definitely not the carefree grin Eric carries. He undresses as I silently watch. I can’t help but love the way his Greek skin is tanned year-round and provides perfect shadows across his tight stomach. Guilt overcomes me as he slides into bed next to me. Maybe he really was concerned when he called Tosha today, and not just trying to rat me out. Either way, the awkward silence is suffocating.
*
I shouldn’t have gone to Lucas’s grave with Ryker. The ending would have been the same, but I wish I hadn’t seen the beginning. He drove, which was also another bad idea. I figured I should make a note of that for future reference, but determined that in the future I just wouldn’t go if anyone asked.
I offered to stay in the car, but he insisted that I come since I actually knew where the grave was.
“How was it?” he asked.
“How was what?”
“The service.”
I shrugged and shook my head in response, knowing no answer could possibly be right.
Before I could attempt an answer, Ryker cut in. “I mean . . . never mind, I don’t know what I’m asking.”
“No,” I encouraged on second thought, “it was nice. Proper. Sad. I stood with your dad and Tosha. I kind of lost it,” I said as I felt a boulder nestle into my throat.
Lucas’s grave was the newest one there, and the easiest to spot with the mini American flags and flowers around it. Ryker gave my hand a little squeeze before letting go and facing the gravestone. We met each other’s eyes for a split second, then he went down on one knee and rested his right hand on top of the stone.
Ryker spoke softly to Lucas—words I didn’t try to hear. I turned my gaze to the surrounding stones, wondering where they were from—what their stories were—until I heard an angry sort of noise come from Ryker. By the time I looked back to him, he was standing and walking back toward the car as if I wasn’t even there. I followed silently, but quickly, behind him.
He took off down the road as soon as I got in, barely giving me time to buckle my seatbelt. At the first stoplight, I turned to look at him. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel and when he looked at me . . . nothing. His eyes looked like icebergs lonely in the arctic, drifting for no one.
“Sorry,” he mumbled as he turned his eyes back to the road.
I didn’t respond because I didn’t know what he was “sorry” for. What happened at the cemetery? What was about to happen? I don’t know if he knew, either, but “sorry” was the easiest way to fill that awkward silence, I guess.
We were silent for the rest of the drive back to my dorm.
“I’ll come pick you up tonight, okay? That way you can just leave your car here and not worry about it,” was all he said when I got out. We were going to a party at UMass that night.
Something else I shouldn’t have agreed to.
I only had a few hours before I saw him again, but they felt like an eternity. I paced around a lot, thought about calling Tosha—who was living with Liz in Amherst for the summer—but settled on a nap. Maybe when I woke up I wouldn’t be so weirded out about what had happened at the cemetery.
No such luck.
By the time we were walking into the party, I felt a physical shift from Ryker. He was rigid, anxious, and his eyes were darting around everywhere. I tried to act “over-normal”—whatever that means—because I swore it was just my craziness making Ryker look on edge. He was completely fine that morning.
“Are you okay?” I finally asked, after he handed me a beer.
Ryker leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I’m fine, Babe. Is Tosha coming?” He rubbed his hand back and forth over his head a few times before shoving it into his jeans pocket.
“She’ll be here. She just lives right across the street.” A gracious second later, I spotted her bounding through the crowd with some black low-lights tearing through her blonde curls. “There she is.” I took Ryker’s hand and led him through the sweaty bodies to Tosha.
“Hey Nat. Ryker, thank God you’re home!” Tosha hadn’t seen Ryker in the week that he’d been home. She gave him a huge hug, and his normal smile took over his face as he returned the gesture.
“It’s good to be home, Tosha.” He kissed her on the cheek and stood behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist.