by Rose, Ranae
God, he was mad at her. Never had she felt more like she’d only been dating him for a little over two weeks. She remembered the lie she’d told the hospital staff so that she could spend the night with him there and felt her cheeks flood with heat and shame. Maybe she should have listened to him and never gone to the hospital in the first place. Who was she to force her presence upon him, really?
He shifted on the couch, a hand fumbling over his pocket. “I’ll give you money for a cab.”
“I don’t need your money.” Her hackles went up instantly as he added insult to injury. She turned on her heel and headed for the door. Her fingers trembled as she undid the deadbolt and the knob’s lock. A cold breeze struck her cheek like an open hand, and she told herself that was why her eyes were watering. Her heart sank the rest of the way down to her toes as she stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind herself.
There was a bus stop not far away. By the time she reached it, she’d decided to keep going. Knockout wasn’t too far to walk to, and it would be better to work out than sit around the house trying not to feel like she’d failed someone she cared about again.
Chapter 18
The past two days had passed in a whirl of worry and endless workouts that had left Ally just tired enough to sleep. When she rose on Monday morning, it was with the same heavy feeling that had been riding in her gut since Saturday. She showered and dressed with it weighing her down and tried not to think about what it would be like to make it through a dragging day of work. At the salon, she wouldn’t be able to distract or exhaust herself on heavy bags. Instead, she’d be forced to sit in a chair for eight hours, making conversation she cared nothing about.
For the first time, she truly hated the thought of going to work. She prepared to leave anyway, slipping on a pair of shoes before exiting her room with her purse already slung over her shoulder. When she emerged from the hallway and into the kitchen, Manny was there.
“I made pancakes,” Maria said without turning from the skillet she was standing over, scooping the golden-brown cakes from its surface with a slotted spatula.
“Did you move back in or something?” Ally asked as she sank into a seat at the table, a feeling of defeat settling over her like the blankets she’d so recently cast off. Seeing Manny sitting across from her at the table was surprisingly unsurprising.
Manny ignored her comment. “Gracias, mamá,” he said as he accepted a plate heaped high with breakfast.
He took several bites before speaking to Ally. “Inés wants to go shopping for bridesmaid dresses sometime within the next couple days.”
If Ally had been in a better mood, a part of her might have found the fact that Manny had gotten up early to announce his fiancée’s dress shopping plans funny. No part of her seemed capable of laughing though – she knew that wasn’t really why he’d shown up. He was re-integrating himself into her and her mother’s lives like the roots of an unwanted tree tunneling under a sidewalk and breaking the concrete from below. Before she knew it he’d be just another fixture in the kitchen, a visitor who was never really unexpected.
The thing was, it was getting harder and harder to give a shit. And the guilt – it was still there, warring with disgust and anger every time she looked at him. “I have plans.” She didn’t, really, but no way was she going shopping with Inés.
“As part of the family, you—”
“I’m a size six,” she interrupted. “She can choose whatever she wants me to wear. It’s her wedding.”
Manny donned a look of satisfaction – not a smile, exactly, but an expression that told her he was pleased.
She ignored it as her mother handed her a plate of pancakes. “Thanks, mamá. You didn’t have to cook.”
“It’s no problem.” Maria shut off the skillet, put the last of the pancakes on a plate for herself and joined Ally and Manny at the table.
The three of them sitting there like that didn’t feel right, exactly, but it didn’t feel as weird as Ally might have imagined, either. Still, she was only able to finish half of what she’d been given. She hadn’t been particularly hungry in the first place. It was as if the weight in the pit of her stomach had taken up the room she would otherwise have used for food. She rose without speaking, retreating to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
When that was done and she’d rinsed with mouthwash, there was nothing to do but leave for work. She and her mother had about ten minutes before they needed to depart. Instead of leaving immediately, she picked up her purse from the sink’s edge and unzipped it, pulling her phone from its depths.
She’d been thinking about it since the first moment she’d woken up that morning – it was Ryan’s birthday. It had been two full days since they’d spoken. There’d been no phone calls, no texts. Nothing. And it was eating away at her from the inside.
She’d tried to be pragmatic and tell herself that if he didn’t want her around, that was his business. And she’d tried to tell herself that she shouldn’t worry, because that was what she’d done that had angered him in the first place – worried too much. She’d irritated him until he’d pushed her away. Still, she couldn’t help it.
The warning the doctor at Johns Hopkins had given kept echoing through her mind, driving her to fret over what-ifs. What if Ryan hadn’t called because he’d been injured again? What if something was wrong and no one knew? What if it was her fault because she’d left him alone and was too afraid to check on him, to call and ask?
She brought up his number, but instead of calling, opted to compose a text. A dozen different possible messages ran through her head and she second-guessed them all. In the end, she settled for a simple happy birthday. It seemed too sparse, but there was nothing else she could bring herself to say – nothing that wouldn’t infuriate him further while also wounding her pride, anyway. She pressed send before she could doubt the wisdom of texting even a simple birthday message.
For a few minutes, she found excuses to linger in the bathroom, rearranging her hair and flossing her teeth for the first time in God knew how long. Her phone remained silent and motionless on the sink’s edge, its screen black.
When she didn’t have any more time to waste, she tucked it back into her purse, disgusted with herself for hoping that Ryan would reply and for being disappointed when he hadn’t.
Manny was still in the kitchen. “Want me to give you a ride?” he asked as Ally plucked her jacket from a hook beside the door and slipped into it.
“No,” Ally said firmly. “Mamá and I always walk. It’s good exercise.”
“Have it your way.” He pushed back his chair and stood, slipping into the black leather jacket he’d draped over the back of his seat.
He left a few steps ahead of them, heading toward the car he’d left parked at the curb. He nearly tripped when a small ginger creature darted out in front of him.
Sammy. Ally recognized the cat instantly, though it had been months since she’d seen him around. The scruffy orange-yellow feline was a neighborhood regular and belonged to no one in particular, though he routinely went through brief spells where the Rivera household became his favorite hangout. He was at least a decade old and had often come around the front porch looking to have his ears scratched when Ally and Manny had been teens.
Manny halted, nearly tripping over Sammy.
The cat stared up at him with wide green eyes, seemingly expecting the same sort of favorable treatment he’d received years and years ago from Manny.
Ally steeled herself for offense and prepared to be angry. Manny looked as if he were about to punt the cat out of the way like a football.
Instead, he bent, squatting and scratching the scruffy creature briefly between the ears. Sammy purred loudly enough that the sound resonated all the way to the porch. Manny rose and continued on his way to his car, slipping inside and leaving Sammy behind on the sidewalk.
An odd feeling tugged at the corner of Ally’s consciousness, presenting her with memories of her and Manny sitting togeth
er on the front porch, petting a much younger Sammy. “Be sure to lock up, mamá,” she cautioned as he drove away.
* * * * *
“I can’t believe you agreed,” Melissa said, standing on the interlocking mats in one corner of Knockout with a hip cocked and a kicking bag tucked under one arm.
Ally suppressed a sigh. “I’m starting to think it may have been the smartest choice. He wouldn’t have left us alone until he’d gotten what he wanted. Maybe now he won’t come around so often.”
Melissa frowned. “It’s pretty dickish of him to put you and your mother in this situation. Some brother.”
“Yeah,” Ally agreed half-heartedly. It was official – every time she thought of Manny, the resulting cocktail of emotions featured guilt as a primary ingredient. The feeling compelled her to change the subject.
“Hey you two. Want something to drink?” Trisha walked onto the mats, a bottle of water in each hand.
“Thanks,” Melissa said, taking one with a smile.
Ally accepted one too and glanced toward Cameron’s office, where the chilled water had to have come from.
Unsurprisingly, Cameron was standing in the doorway, a big grin on his face as he stared in Trisha’s direction. When he realized Ally was looking at him, he turned quickly on one heel and retreated into his office, closing the door behind himself.
Ally resisted the urge to snort. It wasn’t exactly surprising that Cameron had been charmed enough by Trisha to give up two bottles of water from his precious stash. “Maybe you should come around the gym more often,” Ally said, opening her water bottle.
“Maybe,” Trisha said with a small smile. “I might just take you up on that every once in a while.”
Ally nodded, a small pang of worry sailing through her heart. Trisha had only set foot in Knockout a few times before to watch Melissa compete on Saturday nights. Today she’d come along with Melissa and wore jeans and a sweater as she stood near the edge of the mats. She’d said she’d just wanted to get out of the house.
“How are you and Mike, anyway?” Ally dared to ask. Their wedding had recently come and gone, and Ally occasionally thought back to the TBI pamphlet Trisha had shown her and wondered how the couple was getting along.
“Good,” Trisha said. “The wedding was small, but it was perfect. We’ve been doing all right since then, but I just needed to get out for a little while this morning, you know? For both of our sakes.”
“Mike came back with a brain injury and what do they call it – PTSD?” Melissa explained.
Ally nodded, remembering that she’d never told Melissa what she and Trisha had spoken about at the bridal shower. “Yeah, I’ve heard of that.”
“Things can be tense sometimes,” Trisha said. “He has outbursts, you know? Gets frustrated and says things he doesn’t mean – things he wouldn’t have said before. But I’m part of a support group with other military wives, and they say that’s not unusual.” Her small smile broadened. “I’m sure we’ll be all right. For now, I’m trying to take things one day at a time and am just figuring out that I need to give him some space sometimes.”
Ally’s insides gave a guilty squirm that had nothing to do with her worries over her brother, or even Trisha’s situation. “That’s good.”
“His brother came over this morning and they’re at home relaxing and watching a game,” Trisha continued. “I figured I’d spend some time with Mel and head back later to make dinner.”
Ally nodded.
“Anyway, it’s nice to have the group for support, and my family’s been great too. Mike and I are even thinking of going on a honeymoon eventually, whenever he feels up to it. Maybe sometime this summer.”
“Where are you planning to go?” Ally asked.
“We’re considering a cabin getaway in the Poconos, but we’re not really sure yet.”
“That sounds romantic,” Ally said. “I’ve heard it’s really nice there.”
“Speaking of romantic,” Melissa said after a brief stretch of silence, “how’s it going with Ryan?”
Ally’s stomach plummeted. It was a question she’d been expecting and dreading since she’d chosen to visit the gym after work. She’d known Melissa would be there – she rarely worked Monday nights. And she’d suspected the topic would come up, though for a brief while she’d thought that maybe Melissa wouldn’t ask since Trisha was there.
But maybe it was for the best that she was present. After all, she was the only person Ally knew who was at all familiar with what Ryan was going through. “Not so good.” She told Melissa and Trisha as briefly as possible about Ryan’s injury and the way he’d rejected her when she’d tried to help him afterward.
“Wow,” Melissa said. “And you haven’t heard from him since then?”
“No,” Ally admitted, thinking of the cell phone she’d left in her locker, inside her duffel bag. “Today is his birthday – I sent him a text this morning, but he hasn’t replied.” It sounded lame when she said it.
“Are you going to call or stop by his place tonight?”
“I don’t know.” Both were possibilities she’d been contemplating all day. The resulting mental conflict had nearly driven her crazy as she’d trimmed, filed and polished clients’ nails at the salon. Should she call, or even show up at his doorstep? Or would doing either only anger him further? She let her gaze dart back and forth between Melissa and Trisha. “Do you think I should?” Trisha’s words about giving her husband Mike space rang in Ally’s ears.
“I mean,” she continued, “I think he was frustrated mostly by the way I’ve been treating him. I thought I was helping, but I guess I went overboard.”
“It can be hard to find the right balance of being there and giving space when needed,” Trisha said. “I’m still trying to figure it out with Mike.”
Ally nodded. “Ryan doesn’t usually say things like that or have outbursts like you said Mike does.” At least, not as far as she knew. “He’s actually usually pretty clear-headed. I think his reaction had to do mostly with the way I reacted to finding out about his TBI.” She was no doctor, but that was the way it seemed. And recognizing that felt like swallowing something sour. She chewed the inside of her lower lip. “Since Saturday morning I haven’t stopped wondering if he really meant what he said about not wanting me around.”
“Sometimes people are too afraid or ashamed to admit what they actually want, or they just don’t know how to say it.” Melissa spoke up, dropping the striking bag from under her arm and letting it dangle from one handle. “I mean, I’m no expert on this stuff, but that much can be true for anyone, not just guys like Ryan and Mike.”
A memory flashed through Ally’s mind in vivid detail – one where she stood naked in front of Ryan, his hands on her bare body. “I wanted to touch you like this.” He’d caressed her with his hands and lips, his breath hot against her skin as he’d spoken. “But I didn’t know how good it would feel. I couldn’t have imagined it, just like I couldn’t have imagined the silver lights and god-awful pain before I saw and felt them for the first time.” He’d certainly seemed to want her then.
Which was exactly why it had stung so badly when he’d ordered her to leave, telling her there was no reason for her to be at his home. Anyone in his position could’ve used a helping hand. Why would the man who’d told her that her touch eased his pain reject her when he was in so much of it? “Maybe you’re right. When he told me to leave, it just came so far out of left field. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Melissa shrugged. “Two days have gone by. Maybe he’s cooled down.”
Ally turned to Trisha, questioning her wordlessly with her gaze.
Trisha shrugged. “I don’t want to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do, especially when I’m new to all this too. But maybe you could try getting in touch with him and see how he’s feeling. Especially since he’s got that broken wrist – I don’t think it would hurt to check in.”
“Yeah. I think I’ll do that.” Ally glanced to
ward the doors and the descending evening beyond. Soon it would be dark, and Ryan had spent all of his birthday alone so far. “Thanks, Trisha. Thanks, Mel. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to work up the courage if not for you two.”
“No problem,” they both said, nearly in unison.
“Good luck,” Trisha echoed.
“Thanks.” Ally’s gaze was irresistibly drawn to the doors again.
“You want me to put this back?” Melissa held up the striking bag and gave Ally a knowing look.
“Yeah, sorry.” They hadn’t even started on the kicks they’d intended to practice on the bag. They’d planned to take turns holding it for each other since the gym was busy and all the hanging bags were being used.
“It’s okay. I can work out on my own. Or maybe Trisha will hold the bag for me.” She shot her sister a devilish grin. “Let us know how things go.”
Ally promised to do just that as she hurried to the locker room, intent on dressing as quickly as possible. Luckily, she’d hardly broken a sweat and didn’t need to shower. When she pulled her phone from her duffel bag, there was nothing from Ryan. Her heart sank a little but was buoyed by the knowledge that she’d be seeing him soon – for better or for worse.
* * * * *
Standing on the concrete outside Ryan’s apartment door felt like standing on ice of indeterminate thickness. Ally gripped her purse’s strap tightly, more for something to do with her hands than any other reason. The edge of the strap bit into her palm and she repaid it by digging her fingernails into the leather. She’d already knocked – now it was a matter of whether Ryan would answer the door.
He probably – hopefully – hadn’t gone anywhere. Had he? Ally’s stomach dropped at the thought that she might be standing outside an empty apartment, waiting for someone who wasn’t there to either let her in or turn her away again.
