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Six whined, licking his fist until his hands uncurled at his side.
“Ryker, honey, I’m glad you’re okay.” Mom kissed his cheek, then led them both to a table in the corner, away from the other patrons. “I’ve been worried sick.”
“Mom, I’d like you to meet Six. She’s a rescue from Alabama…” Ryker sat, telling his mom all about the golden retriever’s origin, her skills, their match and training together. All the while his mom knelt next to the golden retriever, cooing over the dog until Six rolled over, presenting her belly in ecstasy at all the attention.
When he ran out of words and his mom sat at the table again, he asked the question he’d dreaded most.
“What’s going on with Bryce? Are the girls okay?”
His mom gave him a pitying smile, and he wanted to die. Pity. The worst emotion ever.
“It’s been…quite a week.” She stood, patting his hand. “Sit tight. I’m going to get us both some food before I tell you everything I know. I even saved a chicken breast from last night’s dinner, just for my newest grand-dog.”
She left him at the table to stare alternately at the boomerang pattern on the top and at his phone, which was eerily silent. He pulled up the last string of text messages from Bryce, cringing at his terse replies, the way his protection instinct had backfired.
His mom returned carrying two plates. One with a massive slice of carrot cake, the cream cheese frosting an inch high, and the other with two golden-brown rolls in the center.
She slid both plates toward him, giving him a fork for the carrot cake—his favorite. Then she sat opposite, as Willow poured them two cups of coffee.
“Ryker, I love you more than anything, but your actions—or your inactions—have consequences.” His mom sipped her coffee, waiting for Willow to leave before continuing. “While you were gone, Addison jumped off her bunk bed and broke her leg. She’s fine, and while Bryce didn’t tell me the whole story, I got the impression she’s worried the girl’s injury will somehow be used against her in court.”
Ryker groaned, grinding the palms of his hand into his eyes. “She…she tried to call me, and I’ve tried to get in touch with her, but we kept missing each other. I wish I’d been here for her.”
“There’s more.” His mom lay an index-sized card on the table, covered in a sheath of plastic. “She stopped by before she went to Niagara Falls to work at Cascade during her vacation week, and she gave me this—her recipe for Parker House rolls—the same delicious rolls on the plate in front of you. She said you’d know what it meant.”
Ryker felt the back of his neck grow scalding hot, as if he’d been standing at attention for hours in the blazing sun. He knew what this card meant. Bryce’s mother had told her never to share a signature recipe that got you a man unless you were prepared to give up that man.
He swallowed, taking the card. “Yeah. I do. It’s not good.”
“Tell me what happened.” His mom patted his hand. “You may be full grown, but you’re still my boy. Let’s see if I can help.”
Ryker’s words came haltingly at first, like an old lawn mower starting, but then, as he relived these past weeks, they came faster. He talked about meeting Bryce in the grocery store. Getting to know her and her girls at the garage, at her house, and the ways in which he’d made himself vulnerable, coming out of his shell because of Bryce and her nieces. Whether it was that day he’d allowed them to put him in full Barbie makeup, or when he’d stepped out of his leg, or dressed as a pink bunny, time with them had left an indelible impression on his heart. He explained to his mom how he’d tried to tell Bryce about his PTSD, his radiation treatments and what that meant for a future family, as well as the fact that his HO kept returning, which might mean further amputations.
“I wanted to tell her everything,” he said, anguished. “Now I’m worried it’s too late.”
“When you left town without explanation, I imagine that might have something to do with the fact she’s not taking your calls. Women aren’t like engines, to turn on and off at will.”
“I—I thought I was protecting all of you. I wanted to handle it myself, because your lives are busy, and you don’t need any added worries—”
“Any added worries? Is that what you think this is about?” The disappointment in his mother’s eyes made him want to curl up inside and die. “Ever since you returned from Afghanistan, you’ve built up this wall around yourself. It’s as if after your injury, you did your best to make sure you’d never get hurt again. You distanced yourself from your family, kept friends at arm’s length, and you barely interact with the community, all because you were scared to expose your heart to hurt. We worry because we love you, and when you shut us out like you did this week, you’re not protecting us—you’re protecting yourself.”
Six sat up, putting her paw on his lap, and Ryker stroked her head, processing his mom’s words.
He recalled Zander’s texts, Drake’s words at the garage a few weeks ago, when he reminded Ryker he had a support system. He remembered both Tarun and his family practically having to drag him out of his garage and be social. He’d thought it was just his family being busybodies. Now he could see how destructive his PTSD had been. And poor Bryce…
“I’ve been such a selfish prick.” He hunched over his coffee. The weight of this admission was almost too much to bear.
“No.” His mother took his hand. “It’s like when they tell you on the airplane to put on your own oxygen mask before securing others’. You just took a long time to do this for yourself. To take this step and put on your own oxygen mask. And I can’t tell you how proud I am of you, son.”
“But I never told Bryce…I love her.” Ryker shook his head. “I didn’t tell her, even after she basically told me.”
Patty squeezed his hand. “You aren’t perfect. But here’s something else: you’re not dead. And unless you want to die alone, you’d best figure it out.”
Mom was right. It was time to nut up or shut up.
“Is she still in Niagara Falls?” He sighed in relief when his mom nodded. “What hotel is she at?”
“I’m not sure. But her nieces’ grandparents know, and you can ask them.” Patty stood, brushing off her pink apron. “I suggest you get a move on.”
