He scratched at his head and poured his morning coffee. “I don’t think I’m that important.”
“No? Well, you sure act like it. ‘I can’t leave! What’ll you all do? Oh, what will become of the ranch?’ My God. You act like the goddamn sun will stop shining if you get on a plane.” She rolled her eyes at him.
“I don’t act like that.” He stirred sugar into his coffee. “Do I?”
“You’ve been known to. Good lord, it’s like you think we can’t function without you here watching over us.”
“Well,” Ryan said.
She came over to where he sat at the table with his mug. Her voice softened, and she put a hand on his shoulder. “You need to do this, Ryan. Go and support your girl.”
He looked up at her, feeling grateful but still a little miserable. “But what if she decides to move?”
Sandra crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “There you go, trying to cross bridges you haven’t come to yet.” She put the hand back on his shoulder. “We’ll figure that out when it happens.”
“I guess.”
“Well, if this one moves across the country, we’ll be royally screwed, I guess,” Orin said, scratching his belly as he walked into the kitchen to get his coffee.
“Nobody asked you to chime in,” Sandra reminded him.
“Well, I guess I get an opinion,” Orin said.
“Not on Ryan’s love life, you don’t,” Sandra said. She turned back to Ryan. “Don’t you listen to him.”
He tried not to. But it was hard.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The night before Gen and Ryan were set to leave for New York, the girls got together at Rose’s house to wish her luck. The cottage, set in a woodsy area east of Highway 1, was tiny, but Gen had always loved it. With its wood paneling, the freestanding cast iron fireplace, and the fact that it was set on a sizeable lot with trees that obscured any view of the neighbors, the place made Gen feel like she was tucked into a secluded mountain hideaway.
Of course, Rose had brought some good wine from her shop, and Jackson had sent a big pan of macaroni and cheese. Because Jackson was Jackson, it couldn’t be ordinary mac and cheese, so he’d made it with brie and truffle oil.
The four of them were gathered around Rose’s table eating the pasta and drinking a very good Spanish Grenache, talking about Gen’s goals for the trip, when Rose brought up the subject of Ryan.
“It’s good that he’s going with you. It shows he’s supportive of your career.” She pointed her pasta-laden fork toward Gen. “You don’t want some asshole who’s going to put himself first, insist that you’ve got to be the little woman ironing his shirts and … and … I don’t know. Baking him cookies. Do not bake him cookies.”
“I like cookies,” Lacy said.
“It’s not about the cookies,” Rose insisted.
“No, I get what you’re saying. And Ryan’s not like that. He didn’t hesitate when I asked him if he wanted to come with me.”
“Well, he hesitated a little,” Kate said.
Gen looked at her. “What do you mean?”
Kate looked uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t say anything.”
“Of course you should!” Rose insisted.
“Come on, Kate,” Gen prompted her. “Spill.”
Kate shrugged. “It’s just, Ryan talked to Jackson, and Jackson talked to me. Ryan’s nervous, is all. He’s wondering where this is leading. If you’re going to move to New York permanently, and where that’ll leave him.”
“He didn’t tell me any of that,” Gen said.
“Of course he didn’t,” Lacy put in. “Because he’s being supportive. It wouldn’t be very supportive if he got all angsty to you about what it all means.”
“I guess,” Gen said.
Rose cocked her head to the side and considered. “It’s pretty sweet, if you ask me. I mean, he’s worried, and he’s maybe wondering if his whole life is going to be uprooted pretty soon, but he’s so focused on making you happy that he keeps quiet and pretends he’s got no doubts.” She nodded thoughtfully. “He might be a keeper.”
“Is he?” Lacy asked. “A keeper, I mean. And is he going to get his whole life uprooted pretty soon?”
“You mean, am I moving to New York and will I ask him to go with me?” Gen said.
“That’s the question,” Kate confirmed.
“I don’t know.” Gen looked into her wineglass, as though it were a crystal ball.
“You don’t know which part?” Rose asked. “Whether you’re moving, or whether you’re taking him with you?”
“Whether I’m moving. Whatever I do, I kind of can’t imagine doing it without Ryan.” Just saying the words made her eyes hot, and she blinked a few times, hard.
“Aww,” Rose said.
“But his life is here,” Gen said. “His family. The ranch. His … everything.”
“Well, if you’re not here, then it’s not his everything,” Lacy said.
“I guess.”
“Honey.” Kate put a hand on Gen’s arm. “You’ve got to do what’s right for you. Ryan will make his own choices. He’s in love with you. I’m guessing he’ll choose you.”
“But I don’t even know what I want anymore,” Gen said.
“You mean Ryan?” Lacy said.
“No. God. I definitely want Ryan. I …” She shook her head and looked at the table, trying to think of how to say what she was feeling. “I just thought I had it all figured out, what I wanted from my career. Move to New York, become this hot dealer, this mover and shaker, you know? But now …”
“Now what?” Lacy prodded gently.
“I’m just confused. That’s all,” Gen said.
“Well. One step at a time,” Kate reassured her. “This trip tomorrow is just one step. You’re not moving yet. You’re just doing a gallery show.”
“Right.” Gen took a healthy swallow of the wine. “Right. This is going to be big for Kendrick.”
“And big for you,” Rose added.
“You can do this,” Lacy said. She raised her glass for a toast. “To Gen. Get on that plane and go kick some snooty art-people ass.”
Gen drank to that.
Gen found it interesting that, given his financial status, Ryan never even considered flying first class.
“Do you always go coach, like the rest of the huddled masses?” she asked him as they waited at the gate for their plane.
“Sure.”
“But why?”
He looked at her as though it were obvious. “You want me to pay an extra two hundred dollars for two more inches of leg room and a glass of wine?”
“I guess not, when you put it that way.”
Gen was nervous about the trip, and the airport in San Luis Obispo was so small that she couldn’t even enjoy decent shopping while they waited for their flight. When she complained about that to Ryan, he ushered her to a bank of vending machines on one wall of the terminal.
“You want shopping?” he said. “Here we’ve got a wide selection of soft drinks and snack foods. You name it, and it’s yours. Sky’s the limit, baby.”
She giggled and chose some bottled water and an organic granola bar—selections that he pronounced entirely too healthy for a vacation.
“It’s not vacation,” she reminded him. “It’s a work trip.”
“Well, it’s vacation for me.” Accordingly, he bought a Coke and some Cheetos.
“You know you want some,” he said, waving the Cheetos in front of her.