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Her eyes fill with tears, and she blinks them back in rapid succession.
Did I hit a nerve? Is this one of those mysterious mourning experiences when a grieving person breaks out into tears for no apparent reason?
I wrap my free arm around her shoulder and squeeze. I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say. So I try to be the silent support she needs without drawing any attention to her.
Babs leans her head on my shoulder and we watch the flames cook the steaks, turning them a beautiful, juicy shade of brown.
It feels nice having her tucked next to my side. All these years, I’d wondered what it would feel like to wrap my arms around her. Now, here I am, doing it like it happens all the time.
I try to memorize everything about this touch. Her vanilla scent mixes with the smoke and spices of the barbecue. Her bare arm is soft under my calloused hands, and I find myself rubbing a thumb up and down the outside of her silky bicep.
She’s softer than my memories of her from that Boating trip where we’d met so many years ago. It was the only other time I’ve touched her. Back then she was still a teenager, and practically skin and bones. Now she’s grown into a woman. Soft skin. A dress that hugs her in all the right spots, and a body that is less tomboy and entirely woman. Time has been good to her.
She moves, and I glance down to notice her wiping her cheeks before she forces a smile and gazes up at me, her eyelids rimmed in red. “Thank you.”
“Any time,” I say, squeezing her gently again. “I mean it.”
Her smile falters. “I’m sure you do.”
She pulls in a deep breath and drops a mask of pleasant interest over her features. “Tell me about all your friends, so I’m not the odd man out.”
Chapter 13
Well That Was Unexpected
Carrie
Ryan’sgivenmethelife story and all the gossip on nearly everyone in the backyard when a young voice calls from the top of the deck.
“Dad!”
My eyes track the sound and I find a girl, probably twelve years old, standing at the top of the stairs, a frown on her face. The girl has the same eyes and jaw as Ryan, but lighter blonde hair. The woman has black pixie-cut hair and is wearing too-short shorts. She rests a hand on the girl’s shoulder and has an apologetic look on her face.
“I’m sorry, Ryan,” the woman says. “I had to bring her home from the lake. She threw up.”
Ryan’s eyes widen and he glances at me before striding up the stairs and stopping when he’s at eye level with the girl. “Livvie, are you okay?”
Livvie shakes her head, her long blonde hair swaying with the movement. “Sorry, Dad.” Tears filled her eyes and she sniffs. “This weekend has been total crap all the way around.”
Ryan glances up at the woman. “I’m so sorry Candace. I hope she didn’t ruin your family’s weekend.”
Candace waves him off. “It’s fine. We’ll see if Livvie’s healthy enough to hang out with Brooklyn at the cabin next weekend.”
He offers her a grateful smile. “Thank you. You and Tom are the best.” Ryan guides Livvie down the stairs while Candace leaves through the slider. He takes Livvie to one of the reclining pool chairs and helps her lay down, then runs upstairs and brings back an empty bread loaf pan and an iPad.
I watch him scurry around, taking care of this little girl. While he’s getting her situated, A massive guy with cinnamon blonde hair takes Ryan’s place in front of the barbeque and flips the meats.
“So you’re Freddie’s little sister?” the guy says, sliding a glance at me.
“Yeah. He was a couple years older than me. And you are?”
The guy holds out his hand. “Cimmeron. Ryan and I were in the same grade. Grew up with each other.”
Once he says his name, I’m able to place the face with my memories growing up of Ryan’s best friend. The two were nearly inseparable if they didn’t have girlfriends. If my memory serves correct, Cimmeron had a lot of girlfriends though.
I point to the others milling in small groups around the rectangle-shaped swimming pool and under the gazebo where the food is located. “All of you grew up together, right?”
Cimmeron lifts a massive shoulder. What does this guy do? Compete in the World’s Strongest Man competitions? “Most of the guys did.”
