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Seinfeld
episode? The one where Jerry says that when you start a relationship, you should get a ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ card? You can give it to the other person at any time, and you get to leave, no heavy discussion, no questions asked?”
“Um… I didn’t see that one.”
“Well, take my word for it, there was an episode… and here’s your ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ card.”
He handed me the business card. On the front was Bigger’s logo, Ryan’s name, and a phone number and email address. On the back was ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ scrawled in black letters.
I stared at him. “What’s this for?”
“I want you to go to South Dakota with me. I don’t want you to be alone. I want you to get away from all this so you can chill out and relax.
And,
if you start to feel weird about it at any point… if you start to feel, I don’t know, pressured or anything… or if you just decide you want to come back… give me the card. I’ll say, ‘Are you sure?’ You’ll say, ‘Yes,’ and that’ll be it. I’ll drive you to the airport and buy you a ticket home. I won’t try to make you stay a second longer, or argue with you, or anything. I’ll just send you on your way, no questions asked.”
I sat there, my mouth slightly open. “…why?”
“Because I care about you. And I figure your life is going to be hell for awhile. And I don’t want you to have to go through that if I can help it.”
I looked down at the card. Tears formed in my eyes.
Nobody had ever done something this nice – this selfless – for me before.
But…
“I really appreciate this, Ryan,” I whispered. “I do. But… I can’t.”
He nodded slowly. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I – ” I stopped short and looked at him sideways. “Wait… are you doing the thing where you get the card back?”
He smiled. “Yup.”
I held it out tentatively… and then pulled it back, not quite sure. “Um… can I think about it for a little bit?”
“Sure.”
“How long are you going to be in New York?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I basically just flew here to come get you. If you came back with me – or if you didn’t – then I was going to fly back to South Dakota.”
I stared at him. “What about all your luggage?”
He grinned. “You’re looking at it.”
“But all the stuff from the tour – your guitars – ”
“I had Miles ship it overnight to the ranch. It’ll be waiting for me when I get back.”
“But – but – you’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday!”
“Yeah. Hope I don’t stink too much.”
“What? No, you don’t – that’s not what I – what hotel are you staying at?”
“Kaitlyn… I just got off the plane about an hour ago. Then I came straight here.”
I stared at him, not comprehending. “What?”
He smiled. “The best flight I could get was a red eye that connected in Philadelphia. So… I got here as fast as I could.”
I put my hand to my mouth.
I’d forgotten that I’d bought the last ticket on the last non-stop flight out of Vegas. And I still arrived after midnight.
Ryan had flown all night and come directly from the airport.
Just to see
me.
I started crying again.
“Hey… hey, it’s okay,” he said, and put his hand on mine. “I got a lot of sleep on the plane, I’m cool.”
I laughed at him through my tears, then became alarmed. “You must be starving… oh my God, I should’ve offered you something… if I
had
anything…”
“I’m alright. If you need a little time to think about it, that’s fine, I can grab a hotel for a day or two. No problem.”
Wait –
If Ryan had caught a plane here last night…
“You said Derek doesn’t know you’re here.”
Ryan’s face set the slightest bit. “No. He doesn’t.”
“Is… is he coming here?”
His face darkened the slightest bit more. “Um… I don’t know.”
I stared at him intently. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He gritted his teeth and looked away.
“Ryan…?”
“He came and tracked me down before I left. He said you weren’t in the hotel room and all your stuff was gone, and he asked me if I knew where you went. He was… he wasn’t frantic, exactly, but he
was
pretty worried. I told him to tell me what happened, and he wouldn’t – not at first. But I knew you wouldn’t just split without saying goodbye, to him
or
me, unless something really bad had happened.”
Knots formed in my stomach and tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about where his story was going. But more than anything, I felt guilt. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not saying goodbye.”
He smiled wryly. “You had a lot of other stuff going on at the time.”
I smiled back, despite the tears trickling down my cheeks.
“Anyway, so I kept asking him and asking him, and he said you’d had a fight. But I knew it wasn’t just
any
fight, so I kept badgering him… and he finally admitted what had happened.”
I sobbed. Just once, a little exhalation of air… but then I got it back together.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded and wiped my eyes. “I’m fine. Just… go ahead.”
He paused, unsure… then started again. “So, anyway, I told him he had to go after you. And, well…”
There was a long pause.
“He’s not coming,” I realized.
“I don’t know. He was seesawing back and forth between ‘I screwed up’ and being angry that you’d walked out on him.”
ASSHOLE!
