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“Hey,” I wrap my palm around his jaw and force him to look at me. “I don’t say that about anyone. I mean it. What can I do to make you see it?”
He smiles, barely, lifting a shoulder up in a half shrug as he pulls me in for another kiss, letting me know he doesn’t want to take the discussion any further.
“Can I convince you to stay for dinner?” I grudgingly shimmy off him, standing to search for my clothes on the floor. “We can do something easy like spaghetti and meatballs.”
“I would eat anything you could make and be happy about it. You could slap butter on toast, and I’d think it’s the best shit ever.”
Ryan follows me to the kitchen, watching as I pull ground pork and ground beef from the freezer.
“Do you always cook like this?”
“Like what?”
“When you said meatballs, I assumed a bag of frozen ones. But you meantactualmeatballs. I guess I’m the typical guy when it comes to that. I grill a few pounds of chicken at once to eat throughout the week. I can make rice. But hell, if I know how to make soup or a casserole. And youbake.Don’t think I haven’t noticed you bringing homemade cookies into work.”
I can’t help but let out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess I always cook like this. Food doesn’t have to just be for nourishment, it can also be for pleasure. This might sound weird, but sometimes I think of the patients I’ve seen who are on tube feedings or have no teeth or jaw and don’t get to eat whatever they want. Imagine a diet of pureed foods and it changes how you look at things.”
~
“Can I ask you something?”
Ryan nods but doesn’t look up from his spaghetti. Most of the meal has been eaten in silence as he chews each bite with his eyes closed.
“Do you ever think about your mom? Wonder what she’s like now?”
Ryan’s fork pauses mid-air, and he holds it while he thinks.
“Sometimes,” he finally says, shoving an entire meatball into his mouth. He chews methodically before answering. “She will cross my mind now and again, but when I wonder if I’m being too bull-headed and should reach out to her, I remind myself of everythingsheshould have done when we were kids but didn’t.
“Does she try to contact you?”
“I don’t have the same phone number I did when we were still somewhat in touch. I’ve moved since then. She will tell my sister to have me call her, but that’s about the extent of her attempts.” He looks up at me as he continues, “If you were me, would you forgive her?”
My mouth opens, ready to tell him she’s family, and the more I’ve thought about his situation, it could be worth a try. But then I think of my ex, and how I spent many months wishing unspeakable things would happen to him. Now, he might as well be a ghost, some foggy memory of a life that seemed lightyears ago. As more time passes and I heal from his damage, I still don’t have it in me to face him again, let alone be his friend.
And he wasn’t my mom, the person who is supposed to be your protector and ally. Ryan’s mom may not have physically hurt him, but the neglect caused similar deep-rooted damage.
“I honestly don’t know. I think I’d be curious as hell, but I also think I’d be angry.”
He nods in agreement. “The anger is there for sure.”
“You deserve better than anger and unanswered questions,” I tell him, hesitantly. “I want more for you than that.”
His eyes lock with mine, and the first ghost of a smile crosses his mouth since this whole conversation started. “I think you’re the only person to think that I deserve more.
It’s the second time today he’s said that. “I mean it. You deserve better than what you’ve been through.”
I can see how Ryan became the man he is today. From too young of an age, he had to be tough, independent, and figureout a way to make things happen for himself or else they might not happen at all. My heart breaks for the kid in him who never had a chance to be a carefree teen, to let someone take care of him. His grandparents sound amazing, and they did the best they could, being older and raising teenagers. But it’s not fair; children growing up with parents who are still battling their own wars don’t get to truly be kids.There is a suffering he still hides deep within, and I plan to make it my life’s goal to show him how much more he deserves.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ryan
“Have you ever thought about working in the ER?”
Meg and I walk side by side back to the nurses' station after rounds. Now that I’ve been working on this unit a few months, and am getting to know the nursing staff, it’s clear she’s bored with her job. The only time I’ve seen her light up and thrive is when there is chaos all around, a Code Blue, or an agitated, demented patient trying to raise hell. Besides that, she yawns throughout the day. The other person that comes to mind who lives for that same adrenaline kick is Jim.
“Sometimes. I took this job fresh out of nursing school and it’s all I know. I’m comfortable here, I get to work with my two best friends, but the days when I have five patients, all elderly, all here for the flu or pneumonia, it becomes so routine I could do it in my sleep.”
