“Not still,” I whisper. “I hadn’t done it since before that night . . . but a few weeks ago . . . never mind, we’ll get to that, keep going.” I want nothing more than to avoid talking about cutting with Ryker.
“Things got really bad for me, Nat. Part of the probation was getting a mental health eval. . . which I failed spectacularly. I had to go to the sessions, though, or I’d be in violation of probation. I just kind of went through the motions. I had my calendar marked for May, when my probation would be over. I could stop counseling, and maybe reenlist, though I knew it would be a long shot.” He stops and rolls his head back and to the side like he’s cracking his neck.
“So you were going to counseling . . .” I prompt.
“Yeah, but I was still drinking like a fish and popping painkillers whenever I could get my hands on them. I got really good at hiding it . . .”
“I know a little something about that. So, what happened in May when your probation was over?”
Ryker snorts. “I didn’t make it that far. The U.S. invaded Iraq in March 2003.” He states this like it should explain everything.
“Okay . . .” I shake my head to show him it doesn’t.
“I knew it was coming. I watched the news like everyone else, but I totally lost my shit when it happened. And, I knew I was going to have to wait at least another two months before attempting to reenlist. Since I wasn’t actively engaging with my therapist, but was actively engaging in drinking myself under the table, I buckled.” With a heavy sigh, he continues, “One night I destroyed my bedroom, got in a fight with my dad, and took off in his car, crashing it a mile down the road.”
“Jesus . . .” I whisper.
Ryker crosses his arms in front of his chest. “The cop was such a dick, too. The one who arrested me. I was drunk and trying to explain that another arrest would keep me out of the National Guard, no questions. But he just laughed in my face and said the country was better off with me behind bars than on the front lines.”
My nostrils flare in anger. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Nope. Major asshole. Anyway, my probation was extended for another six months—I’m lucky it wasn’t longer—and, somehow, my dad worked a deal for me to continue my probation and treatment in Jackson Hole, so I could live with my mom. He knew I needed to get somewhere else.”
“How long were you in Wyoming?” I ask as I tuck my heels up onto the swing.
Ryker looks up to the sky for a second. “Um, April 2003 till June 2008.”
That explains why I didn’t see or hear a single thing from him. It was like he disappeared, because he did.
“Well, that certainly connects some dots for me . . . and makes me realize I’m insane.” I rest my head on the chain of the swing.
“Insane? Why?”
“I graduated in May of 2005 and thought I saw you . . . God, never mind . . .” I laugh off my hallucination.
Ryker takes a deep breath and crosses to the swing, sitting carefully next to me. “You did.”
The teacups in my stomach spin faster. “What?”
“You did.” He lifts his hat up and rakes his fingers through his hair before settling it back down. “I came home to visit my dad. I told him I thought I wanted to call you, to just talk . . . but he said no. He said you were finally graduating school and showing back up in your life would just mess things up for both of us. So,” he sighs and leans back against the swing, causing it to sway a bit more, “I just showed up at your graduation. When my dad told me about the cutting and stuff . . . I was so worried about you and what I’d done to you—”
“Ryker,” I cut him off, “it wasn’t your fault, I told you—”
“Just, let me finish, Nat. You looked awesome.” He bites his lip as he grins. “I knew there was no way I could talk to you since you were with your parents and your mom would probably figure out some way to have me arrested . . . but . . . you looked really happy. Until you saw me.”
Thinking back, I remember the queasy, sweaty feeling I had when I thought I saw him standing across from us that day. The boy who disappeared into thin air was a hundred yards away. Then, he wasn’t.
“Your face turned stark white as soon as you saw me, Nat . . .”
“I hadn’t seen or heard from you in two years, Ryker. I didn’t even know if you were still alive. Where’d you go? I called your name and came after you.”
He laughs. “I booked it.”
“Mature.” I roll my eyes. “Tosha told me I was crazy, and then I had to explain to Eric … ”
“You married him? That guy you were standing with?” Ryker looks at me from the corner of his eye as he wrings his hands.
“Yeah,” I sigh, “but that’s a long fucking story . . .”
“I guess, since it’s ends with us sitting on my porch swing like a couple of old people.”
Uncomfortable silence finds us again.
“How was it for you, Nat?”
“How was what?”