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“We just turned into the alley. I guess I get to try out my new keys. I’ll see you in a minute.”
A few minutes later he sprinted up the steps and through the apartment door. “Tar?” he yelled down the hallway.
“Kitchen.”
“Hey you.” Ryan hugged and kissed me. “Are you okay?” His fingers drifted down my cheek.
“Yeah, just a bit out of sorts I guess.” He kissed my forehead when I looked down at his feet.
“I’m sorry you had a crappy day.” Ryan hugged me so tightly it kind of hurt.
Deep inside I was marveling that he actually cared what kind of day I had. He was the first in my history of dating for that emotion.
He sniffed the air. “What smells so good?”
“Pork chops?” I pointed a finger at the glass dish that I just took out of the oven. “Pete is on his way; I figured I’d make him some supper too, since Tammy is busy baking for tomorrow.”
“Tar, what’s wrong? I can tell you’re sad.”
“I’m thinking about Gary. I just have a lot on my mind.” I set out three dinner plates on the kitchen table, trying to suppress the memory of my own mother’s funeral by trying to figure out what account I was going to move money from to cover Pete’s costs.
Ryan filled three glasses with ice and water. “Did Pete call you with an estimate today?”
“Yeah.”
“And?” He sounded perturbed.
“He said two grand for the materials; that didn’t include his labor.”
“That’s not bad. I thought it would be more.”
Easy for him to say... I was trying to figure out how I was going to manage taking a thirteen thousand dollar hit this weekend. If I put off the stairwell remodel, then I’ll only be down ten thousand in income, minus having to pay for two bands that weren’t going to play. It made me edgy to lose that much income from the bar. Halloween was one of my biggest cash nights.
Pete was starving. “That was delicious Taryn!” he complimented. He scraped his plate with his fork. “I’ve forgotten what it’s like to eat homecooked meals. Tammy only cooks for other people now.”
“It was delicious. Thanks for cooking, Honey.” Ryan smiled and gave me a quick kiss. He put his dirty plate in the sink and rinsed it off. “Are you ready to tear down some drywall, Pete?”
“What? You helping?”
“Hell yeah! I’m hoping you have an extra sledge hammer ‘cause I have some pent-up Suzanne aggression to get rid of. Oh, and before I forget...”
Ryan trotted back to the bedroom and returned with his checkbook. He dug in the junk drawer for a pen.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Writing Pete a check.”
“For what?”
“The renovations.” He looked at me like I was missing the obvious.
“No, I can’t let you do that,” I stated directly. “My building… it’s my responsibility.”
“Who said anything about you paying for it? I’m paying Pete.” He wrinkled his nose at me.
“No! I can’t let you do that,” I stated firmly.
“I don’t really care what you say. I’m paying for the construction and that’s that. End of discussion,” he said sternly.
Pete was smiling at him for some reason.
“That’s way too much, Ryan. No! I can’t let you pay for it.”
“Taryn, please don’t argue with me.” He looked back at his checkbook and continued writing.
“Pete, I’d appreciate if you would contact the security company and get a separate system added to the new doors. I’d like a sensor put on the roof door as well.”
“Okay, will do.” I presumed Pete could see the tension growing in the kitchen. He pulled the keys from his pocket. “I’m going to go get my tools.
I’ll see you downstairs.”
Frustration coated with anger started to well up inside me as I washed the dishes. Ryan stood behind me, placing his hands on the edge of the sink counter to keep me in place.
“I know you’re pissed at me,” he whispered in my ear. “But if I wasn’t here with you this fix wouldn’t be happening. It’s because of me that we’re doing this. And when I’m not here, I want to know that you’re safe. So please try not to be mad at me for long.” He nuzzled his face next to mine.
“Besides, I still owe you for the chocolate chip cookies.” He swept my hair to the side. “And the card you got for my mom… and all of the other stuff you bought for me.” He drifted his lips down my neck.
