Ryan gets up and takes a bow. Then he takes another. And another. And he’s so over the top that it’s hilarious. Mick makes a big show of making him stop by hooking him with an imaginary cane and pulling him back. The crew of signers and storytellers wave to the kids, and they scream back their thanks.
Ryan comes to get me and pulls me up off the floor by taking my hand. “That was amazing,” I tell him.
“You liked it?” he asks me, his face turned to the side like he’s shy. He wasn’t shy a minute ago.
“Are you kidding? Loved it. It was fantastic.”
Mick pats him on the shoulder to get his attention. “You killed it,” he says.
“I know, right?” Ryan responds. “What can I say? I’m awesome.”
“And so humble,” Mick replies. “Might be hard for you to top that next week.”
Ryan pats his chest. “No worries. I’m doing a story about Elmo and a coconut tree. You’ll see.”
“Do you ever use props?” I ask.
Ryan looks offended. “Two hands. No props.”
“Oh, I see.” I take a step back, but then he grins and I know he’s not offended.
“We’re going to lunch,” Mick says. “You going?” he asks Ryan.
Ryan looks at me and scrunches his face up. “You go ahead. I’ll see you at Mom’s on Sunday.”
Mick looks at me. “Are you sure?” He jerks a thumb toward the group. “They wouldn’t mind if Lark went.”
“Too much trouble,” Ryan says. “You go. See you later.” He turns back to me. “What?” he asks.
I point to myself. “I’m too much trouble?”
He waves his hands like he’s clearing the air in front of us. “Not you. Them.”
“But you would have gone with them if I wasn’t here.”
He shrugs. “Probably.”
“You should go.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“Really, you should go with your friends.”
“I’d rather hang out with you.”
My heart warms at his statement, but there’s a tiny little thing I can’t even identify gnawing at me. “We could catch up with them.”
“Deaf chat,” he says. “It will bore you.”
“How do you know what will bore me?”
He shrugs. “Because you’re not deaf.”
“Neither is Mick.”
“But Mick’s first language is ASL. He learned ASL before he learned to speak. He fits in.”
“Oh.” But my heart is suddenly heavy. “You think I won’t fit in.”
He stares at me but doesn’t say anything.
“Thank you for bringing me to watch the storytelling. I appreciate it.” I pretend to look down at a watch I’m not wearing. “Well, I have to go.”
“No lunch?” he says.
I shake my head. “Not today. But thank you.”
He tilts his head and watches me for a second. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I glance around like I’m in a hurry. “I have to go.” But, honestly, I have nowhere I need to be. No one to meet. And no group of his friends who would want to hang out with me. Ever.
“Hey,” he says, looking at my purse. “Did you bring my cap?”
“No.” But I wish I had. Because it’s pretty clear that this isn’t going in the direction I’d hoped, despite that kiss that nearly scorched my toes last night. “But I’ll be sure and get it back to you soon. Okay?”
“Okay.” He leans over and kisses my cheek, but I dodge him.
His brow furrows. “I’ll see you later,” I say. “Thanks again for inviting me to the storytelling.”
I wave at him as I start off toward home. My security guard is close behind me, but I still feel more alone than ever.
Ryan
I’ve just settled in to work when Peck, Sam’s wife, comes into the tattoo shop. I wave at her, because she has always been really nice to me, and she glowers at me. Sam’s not here right now, so I assume she’s here to see Friday or one of the other Reed brothers.
She surprises the hell out of me when she walks straight to me, digs in her purse, pulls out my baseball cap, and shoves it against my chest. I rock back on my heels as I hold it to my chest. Damn, she’s strong. And angry. And I can’t figure out what the hell I’ve done.
“There’s your stupid cap,” she signs.