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Chapter 22
Ryan
“I hope it wasn’t anything Isaid.”
“It’s nice tosee you remembered to wear clothing.”
I’m in too good of a mood to let my father’s dig get to me, when he stands up from a chair at his dining room table to quietly greet me out the corner of his mouth.
“Sorry I’m a little late. I was… cleaning up a mess.” I wouldn’t be able to wipe the smile off my face right now if my life depended on it.
Taking a shower with Danny was almost better than the reason we needed a shower in the first place, and not even seeing a crowd of people I didn’t expect at “family dinner” can make me feel bad that I’m fifteen minutes late. Washing all that paint off led to Danny being naked, wet, and soapy in my shower, and I took full advantage of it. The sound of the conversations happening around my father’s dining room table disappear until all I can hear in my head is the sound of Danny moaning my name, her voice echoing around my small bathroom as it filled with steam, while I got down on my knees and used my tongue to make sure she didn’t miss even one speck of paint.
“Cleaning up a mess shouldn’t make you smile like that,” my dad mutters, and I’m more than a little thankful he can’t read my mind. “You seem to have a lot of messes in your life to clean up lately.”
And just like that, he finds a way to make my smile falter and my good mood threaten to leave me. I ignore his comment, think about Danny, and look around the table instead.
“Aside from one, these don’t look like family members,” I whisper out of the corner of my own mouth. I smile and nod at a few of the familiar faces sitting around the table who look my way in the middle of their conversations and try not to laugh when Dottie rolls her eyes and then pretends like she’s falling asleep.
“I told you we’re discussing the future of Summersweet Island today, so I invited city council to join us, since it concerns them as well. This news is going to be hard for some people to hear.”
A flair of hope takes away some of my nerves that maybe my dad has actually been paying attention. Maybe he just somehow knows I’m not ready to become the next mayor in a few months, orever, and he’s going to make the announcement today.
“I hope you’ve gotten whatever’s been going on with you out of your system. You don’t need any distractions, especially now. I expect you to behave like the responsible future mayor of this town going forward.”
All hope dies immediately, and all I can do is sigh. My dad doesn’t give me any chance to argue about what he thinks of as “distractions” as he looks away from me and takes his seat at the head of the table again. It’s not like I can actually argue or have an honest discussion with him now anyway. Not with city council sitting right here. I would never want to hurt him or embarrass him in any way in front of them.
I don’t want what’s going on with me and my life to ever affect how they seehim.Because at the end of the day, he’s a good mayor. He is agreatmayor, who has earned the town’s respect by being fair, kind, and understanding. A pillar of the community and an upstanding citizen, who has never even received so much as a jaywalking ticket. He’s the type of man who stops and talks to everyone when he’s in town, asking about someone’s last hospital stay or holding someone’s new baby, whether he’s in a hurry or not. He listens to complaints with an open mind, and he makes decisions with a fair and honest heart. And he’s continued to do these things even while his personal life has blown up in his face since my mom left.
I just hope he remembers whoheis when I tell him who I want to be—just a simple, high-school math teacher and bowling coach who gets to come home every day to the woman he loves, who makes him feel wild, and free, and happy.
“We need to do something about those flower boxes in front of the pharmacy, Ted.”
My dad joins back in on a conversation about the landscaping on Summersweet Lane, and I take one of the two empty chairs next to my grandmother when she smiles at me and pats the seat of the one right next to her.
“You look about as happy to be here as I am,” she whispers when I sit down, and everyone starts helping themselves to the containers of takeout from Dockside Eddy’s in the center of the table while they talk.
“I’d much rather be home, curled up in bed with Danny,” I whisper back, stabbing a piece of grilled chicken with my fork and putting it on my plate.
Dottie pulls her head back with a smile and studies my face, my own smile fighting to come back when I think about Danny, as I help myself to some green beans.
“So, it’s going well, I see. Good for you, for not letting your father get in your head. He’s been on a rampage about her being a bad influence on you. I told him Danny was the best thing that ever happened to you and to eat shit.”
My father looks over at me with a glare when I snort loudly around a mouthful of chicken.
“Thank you for that, but I think I’m ready to fight my own battles now.”
Dottie studies my face for a few more seconds, and I swear I see tears in her eyes, but she quickly blinks them away. “I’m proud of you, Ryan. No matter what happens between you and your father, and even if he never pulls his head out of his ass, you still have me. And Danny. Having the love of a good woman suits you.”
Some of the water I was in the middle of drinking dribbles down my chin when I cough, and I quickly pull the napkin off my lap and wipe it away.
Even though I’ve still been too much of a wuss to actually sit down and have a conversation with Danny about what we’re doing and where this is going, it almost feels like I don’t need to after today. There was something different about what happened this afternoon, and it wasn’t just her crazy, amazing idea of making a sex painting. It was the flower petals, and the candles, and that freaking awesome card she gave me. It was the way she was nervous giving it to me, like she was worried I would think it was weird, when that’s usuallymyM.O. It was the way she looked at me, and kissed me, and touched me, and held onto me tighter than ever.
It all felt different and so muchmorethan any other time before. It made me feel like the king of the world and like I could do anything. It gave me the confidence to walk into this house with my head held high, not ashamed in the least about my behavior recently and fully ready to defend it. I had fun. Iamhaving fun, for what feels like the first time in my life. I’m happy, and I have cool friends, and I’m in love, and this wonderful, sweet, badass woman might just love me right back. It feels like nothing can break me and nothing can make me doubt myself or the decisions I’ve made, because I have her, giving me some of her own amazing strength to borrow, believing in me, and trusting me.
“I think we can table the landscaping discussion for the next meeting,” my father interrupts everyone’s arguing about replacing the flower boxes or just repainting them. Everyone quiets down but continues eating as he continues. “I know there have been some concerns about a few of the smaller businesses and their continued inability to increase their profits. Namely, the florist, the art gallery, the dog groomer, and that newer upcycled furniture store that went into the old craft store building. Before we decide whether or not these places will be able to last much longer and put these hard-working citizens of Summersweet Island out of business, I have someone who has been pitching me a few ideas over the last week. He was going to be in the area traveling on other business, so I invited him here today to speak with you all.”
Setting my fork down after taking a bite of potatoes, I look back over my shoulder at a man around my age who quickly walks into the dining room from the kitchen, ending a phone call and shoving his cell into the inside pocket of his three-piece suit that looks like it cost more than what I make in a month as a teacher.
