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“It definitely feels right,” Megan said. “I like it.”
They hugged, and Megan went back to her room.
Pleased, Lisa returned to her book, curling up on the couch. Parenting a daughter was becoming fulfilling. She’d run daily with her daughter after Pam’s promise had petered out. They’d spent more time together, with Lisa showing Megan how to prepare simple meals and how to run the washing machine. Self-care, too. Healthy diet, hygiene, mental well-being. Mother-daughter stuff.
Letting Ryan go was probably the healthiest thing she could have lived out in front of Megan. Teaching her self-respect.
How was she going to tell Megan about the baby? Hiding the pregnancy until delivery felt disrespectful. She’d wait until it was obvious there was a baby on the way, though. No point in giving Megan something to worry about.
Basing decisions on what was good for Megan would be good for the whole family. And the whole family needed protection from Ryan.
Reaching for the remote, Lisa turned off the gas logs. It was after ten o’clock and she hadn’t heard from Zach, but she figured he must have been busy because she’d heard sirens blaring all evening. Once in bed, she sent him a text.Hope all is well. I’m falling asleep! The attic is done. Talk tomorrow.
***
Tuesday night, downtown, Ryan, Tiffany, and the production crew finished taping the first episode of the current season of the historic properties renovation series.
“That’s a wrap,” floor manager Winston Graves called out. “Ryan, do you have a minute?”
The makeup artist had given him a treated wipe to get the goo off his face, and he was wiping his eyes in front of a mirror. “What’s up, Winston?”
“Do you have time to do a live promotion?”
“That sounds awful.”
“Right. But since you’re the darling of the cast, Peter wanted me to ask you. The last one Tiffany went to was a bomb.Shewas a bomb. Zero presence. You just need to stand in the third position of ballet at the public broadcasting booth at the NAB convention in Las Vegas.”
“Las Vegas?”
“Right. It’s next weekend. You’d have more notice, but since you just signed on and all…”
“Who else is going?”
“All the brass from PBS will be there. No one from here.”
“Will anyone even know who I am?”
“This episode is airing tomorrow night, but your old seasons have been streaming, and I’ve been told they are favorites. You’ll get a nice royalty check next month.”
“I’ve got nothing to keep me here,” Ryan said, throwing the wipe in the trash. “Of course I’ll go.”
He sent Jolene a text on his way down to the garage. Just leaving. I’m starving. I’ll get something for dinner.
She answered right away.Mexican please.
A food truck specializing in Tex Mex just happened to be in the alley. Ryan ordered enough food for a week, making the proprietors happy. The short drive to Jolene’s apartment gave him time to think about preparing for the trip. Two suits were just back from the cleaners, but he needed shirts. Thinking along those lines was an unfamiliar experience for Ryan, who’d worn mostly ratty sweatpants for the past three years.
But the memory of being Jack’s protégé came flooding back, of Jack teaching him how to dress and the importance of presenting a clean-shaven face to the public, along with the distress of discovering Jack was his father years later.
And that while he was a college kid, his professor, Jack Smith, had taken him as a secret lover. No one, especially his mother, had admitted that Jack knew who his son was, just that he had a son. But once Ryan knew the truth, things added up. Jack had to know.
A tear cruised down his cheek, and he dug in a food bag for a paper napkin reeking of garlic to wipe his face. When traffic cleared, he pulled over to the side of the street and keyed in Lisa’s number.
“Ryan.”
“Hey. I wanted to tell you I’ve been asked to go to Las Vegas for the National Association of Broadcasters to man a booth. I wish you could go. I owe you a weekend away.”
“Are you happy about it?”
