Love Unscripted

by Reber, Tina

  I felt slightly dizzy when I motioned my reply. “No. I just got sick again. The pizza.”

  “Why don’t you just cancel poker and go lay down? You’re not going to have any fun if you’re feeling lousy.” Ryan stepped into the bathroom and pressed his hand against my forehead. “It feels like you’re running a slight fever too.”

  “I can’t cancel on them. Why don’t you just go down and play? Go have fun. Maybe I’ll come down later if I feel better.”

  “No. I’m staying with you. I’ll be right back.” He was gone before I could even respond.

  I went to my bedroom to change into comfy clothes. Resting on the couch sounded very appealing. Staying close to my bathroom was even more appealing. I had just pulled the quilt off the back of the couch and onto my lap when Ryan came back through my door.

  “Pete called Marie and told her you weren’t feeling well,” Ryan said while thumbing through his cell phone. “We exchanged cell numbers. I have Marie’s number too. I told Pete I’d call him later to let him know how you’re doing.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I whispered. “All of you could have still played. I feel horrible for ruining your night and breaking Monday tradition.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We wouldn’t play without you. Here, I brought you a new glass of ginger ale. You should drink some water too. We’re both probably dehydrated.” He set the glass down on the table. “I really don’t need any beer in my stomach either.”

  “Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I think you’re right about being dehydrated. That’s probably why I feel so achy. I should drink some water.” I pulled the quilt off my lap. “Would you like to see the rest of the place?”

  I took him for a quick tour of my apartment. “This is the laundry room here and then these are the stairs that lead up to the roof.” He followed me back down the hall to the kitchen.

  “Wow, this is a really nice place you have! This kitchen is beautiful! I love the granite countertops and the cherry cabinets. Wine fridge and everything.”

  “Thanks. I just had it re-done a few months ago. It used to be a horrible green color with white cabinets. It was really depressing. The bathroom is going to be my next project. Would you like some water?” I pulled glasses out of the cabinet for both of us.

  While I was filling our glasses, I mentally questioned why he was so willing to hang out with some girl who just threw up. Surely he had better things to do. But then he did intend to hang out with me all evening anyway to play poker, so I guess it didn’t make a difference to him how he spent those hours. I was just relieved that I had him here with me where he was protected from the insanity.

  “Do you want to watch some TV?” he asked while kicking his sneakers off. My insides warmed, knowing he wanted to stay with me. He removed the throw pillow and nestled his body into the corner of the couch. “Here, why don’t you lay down,” he instructed as he placed the pillow next to his leg.

  “No, that’s okay. I’m fine.” I sat down on the opposite end of the couch and curled my feet underneath me. I was afraid I might feel nauseous again if I lay down. His lips pulled together and he gave me a disappointed look.

  Ryan wiggled his phone out of his pocket to listen to his voice mail. It sounded like he deleted thirty messages. Considering how in-demand he was, I was surprised that he didn’t take any calls while we were fishing. Come to think of it, he hadn’t taken any calls at all while he was with me.

  His fingers tapped two more times before he held the phone up to his ear. “Hi Dad,” he said cheerfully. “What are you up to?”

  I looked over at him and smiled. I was glad that he was the type of man who thought enough of his parents to call them. Ryan smiled back at me. It was impossible not to listen to his conversation since he was sitting three feet away but I tried to appear distracted. While he talked, I flipped through the channels looking for something to watch.

  “You’ll never guess what I did yesterday and today. I was fishing!”

  He told his father all about the lake and the cabin and how relaxed he felt. It secretly delighted me to know he was happy and content.

  “Taryn, where’s my bag?”

  “They’re still down in the kitchen.”

  He slipped out the apartment door and trotted down the steps. When he left, I figured he would have continued his conversation in private, but he just ran downstairs, grabbed our bags, and came back instantly to resume his position on the couch.

  “Did you book a flight yet? I have to check my calendar.” He started tapping the screen on his phone.

  “Dad, just hang on a second. Okay,” he said while touching through a calendar. “Mom’s birthday is Friday the thirty-first. No, I’m scheduled to be on set. If you fly in Wednesday night then you can stay for the weekend.” It was apparent by his tone that he was looking forward to seeing his parents.

  While he talked, I wondered what his parents looked like. Did Ryan look like his mother or did he take after his father? The way he spoke to his dad made it clear that they had a great relationship.

  “I have to work on the seventeenth. It’s no big deal. We can celebrate my birthday when I come home for Thanksgiving. Okay, let me talk to mom…”

  I looked over at him when he indicated his birthday was coming up, apparently in November since he mentioned Thanksgiving. He’d be turning twenty-seven this year too.

  “Hi Mom. How are you? I’m at a friend’s place. Her name is Taryn.” He winked at me. “It’s a long story; I’ll tell you later… because she’s sitting right next to me, Mom. She’s a sweetheart! You are going to love her.”

  I thought he might like some privacy and I was kind of hoping he might say more if I wasn’t in the room, so I uncovered my legs quickly and went to the kitchen. I filled my glass up with water and searched through the pantry for something bland to eat. I had just found a box of crackers when Ryan came into the kitchen, still on his phone.

  He started to rub his forehead. “It’s getting worse, Mom. I can’t go anywhere.” I didn’t need to hear her questions to know what they were.

  I leaned my elbows on the counter and rested my head in my hands. I had a slight headache from being sick and not having any food in my system. The cabinet closest to the refrigerator was where I kept most of my medicine. I found the aspirin but Ryan snatched the bottle right out of my hand.

  “You shouldn’t take these now. Mom, Taryn was going to take some aspirin but she shouldn’t take them on an empty stomach.”

  I looked at him, puzzled.

  “It could upset your stomach even worse,” he said.

  “We’ve both been sick, Mom. I think we had food poisoning last night but Taryn still isn’t able to keep anything down. Can she take aspirin on an empty stomach? I didn’t think so.” He smirked.

  I dropped my shoulders; I was doomed to deal with the pain. Ryan stepped closer and felt my forehead again. I guess my temperature was acceptable; he opened the box of crackers and tore open a sleeve for me. I was perfectly capable of opening the cracker box, but at the same time I loved that he was taking care of me. And here I thought that he was the one who needed taking care of.

  “My mom says you should try and eat some toast and we should drink lots of water.” He swept my hair off my shoulder with his finger, gazing at me again. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet her when you visit, Mom.” He smiled, appearing so happy. “I’ll tell you all about her… later,” he whispered.

  Toast sounded good, but hearing him telling his mother that we’d get to meet each other one day completely stunned me.

  “All right Mom, I love you too. I’ll call you later tonight.” He ended his call and popped a cracker in his mouth.

  “Do you have a toaster?”

  I opened the lower cabinet where it was stored.

  “Why don’t you go relax? I’ve got this.” Ryan took hold of my shoulders and guided me towards the hall. I smiled on my way back to my living room. I could not believe that Ryan wanted to mak
e toast for me. My heart suddenly felt very full.

  “So what do your parents think of all this attention you’ve been getting?” I asked while we both munched on toast out on the couch.

  “I guess they’re overwhelmed. Their lives have changed too because of me. My mom and dad tell me that they’re proud, you know, but they also let me know that they’re concerned. My mom keeps telling me to keep my feet on the ground.”

  I nodded in concurrence. “You’re going to have to always keep it in check. Just don’t let the fame and notoriety turn you into someone you’re not. Your parents love the son that they raised, not the celebrity you’ve become.”

  He looked at me funny and grinned. “Do you know that my mom said the same exact thing to me? And you’re right,” he answered dryly, “but you don’t know how it is.”

  “No, I don’t,” I agreed in my softest voice. “And I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I have a clue of what this is like for you. You’ll have to explain it to me if you want me to understand.”

  He shook his head and shrugged. “When I’m on set working, things are great. I love it! But since I did Seaside, things have been crazy. The whole fan thing is… I don’t know… incomprehensible. It’s constant pressure to live up to the hype. Some days it squeezes harder than others.” It was apparently difficult for him to find the words to talk about it.

  “Well, just remember who you are, and try not to let this get bigger than that. The minute you stop being humble, you’ll be in trouble.”

  He nodded his head in agreement.

  “Ryan, you don’t seem to be the type of person who got into acting because you have to feed your ego. You’re apparently really good at it, and you love doing it. It’s the career path you’ve chosen to follow, but it’s not who you are in here,” I said as I patted my own heart with my hand. “Just keep focused on the fact that it’s your job and don’t let it define you. You’ll be okay.”

  “You sound like my mother,” he informed.

  “No, I’m not trying to mother you,” I defended quickly.

  “No, no. That’s not what I mean!” He laughed. “I mean that you’re saying the same things my mom has said to me. It’s bizarre!”

  “Well your mother is obviously a brilliant woman,” I amended.

  “She keeps telling me to be careful who I trust. Like I need the reminder.” He rubbed his forehead again.

  “Ryan, I have a pretty good idea why you have a hard time trusting people and why you have to question the validity of everything and everyone.” I tilted my head until his eyes met mine.

  “And I know I have to earn your trust – just like you have to earn mine. We’re just two people trying to be friends. We both have a lot to risk. But I know your risk is much higher – it takes away your freedom and puts you in danger.”

  “I know. This business makes it hard to trust people. Then when trivial things like what I had for dinner becomes headline news, it really messes with your head.”

  “Well, I solemnly swear that I will not divulge that information to anyone. I’ll take it all to my grave!”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re pretty trustworthy. You wouldn’t even tell your best friends that you puked your guts out last night,” he teased.

  “No,” I corrected. “I wouldn’t tell my best friends that you puked your guts out last night.”

  “Speaking of puking… how are you feeling? Is the toast doing the trick?”

  I nodded my head and took a sip of ginger ale. “I’m starting to feel better, thanks.”

  “Good,” he said as he playfully tossed a pillow at me.

  I faked like I was going to toss the pillow back at him, but instead I just set it down next to my leg.

  His eyes flickered between looking at the pillow and looking at me. With a quick lunge, he curled his body down on the couch. It seemed like he purposely fiddled with the pillow until it was in the perfect position under his head but mostly on my thigh. His feet hung out over the edge.

  Our eyes met and I instantly felt his pull. I couldn’t resist it any longer. Without even thinking, I softly ran my fingers through his hair. His eyes closed and he sighed as I touched him.

  He took my other hand off his shoulder and laid it across his heart.

  Chapter 8 – Reflections

  “Tar – hurry up, they’re going to replay it!” Ryan yelled from the couch. I was refilling my water at the refrigerator in the kitchen.

  “Watch this! Watch! The idiot is going to light the dynamite and then he doesn’t run. I can’t believe they are showing this on TV! Wait… it’s going to blow him back like thirty feet. Oh! Oh! And boom!” he echoed.

  I winced after seeing some moron fly through the air from sheer stupidity. I resumed my spot on the couch; Ryan adjusted the pillow on my thigh and pulled my hand back to his chest.

  “I wonder how long he was in the hospital after that one,” I asked, leaning more of my body onto him so I could stroke his hair again. We were so comfortable together.

  “This is the bad thing about television - three minutes of show and eight minutes of commercials,” he groaned.

  He was just about to turn the channel to something else when his phone chimed in his pocket. He looked at the number before accepting the call.

  “Hey Pete! Yeah, she’s feeling better.” His eyes looked up at me and his hand reached for my forehead.

  “We were just watching Mega Explosions. You’re watching it too? Oh my God, did you see that guy? What an asshole! What did he think was gonna happen?”

  While he was lying across my lap, I was secretly reveling in the fact that Ryan and Pete were getting along so well. I had always hoped that whoever I was with would get along with my friends. My ex-fiancé Thomas and Pete never saw eye to eye. There was always tension between them. I should have taken that as a warning sign right from the get-go, but I tried to make everyone happy while being quietly miserable inside.

  But Ryan and Pete seemed to be in perfect synch right from the start. A huge smile crossed my lips.

  “Here, Pete wants to talk to you.” Ryan handed his phone to me.

  “Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?” Pete asked.

  “I’m feeling better, thanks. I’m still achy though. Ryan made me toast and it helped to take my headache away.”

  “Oh, Ryan made you toast, did he?” he teased.

  “Yes… and your point?” I snickered.

  “Nothing. I’m just happy for ya. And I’m glad that you’re feeling better. Tammy wants you to call her tomorrow. You two need to iron out the final menu for Sunday so we can get the food on order.”

  “Okay, I will. But I don’t want any seafood from Sheckys. I’m pretty sure it was the lobster tails that made us sick last night. I got sick right after eating it. I mean it tasted all right, but within a half hour or so we were both violently ill.” I looked down at Ryan and combed my fingers through his hair.

  “I don’t want any seafood from wherever those tails came from!” Ryan confirmed loud enough for Pete to hear.

  “All right, I’ll tell her that. Well I’m sorry you weren’t feeling good, but it sounds like you’re on the mend, so… hey, can I talk to Ryan again?” Pete asked.

  “Yeah! Sure.” I was momentarily surprised by his request.

  “Yeah Pete, what’s up?” Ryan sat up to talk. “Yeah, I am, why? They play at eight on Sunday; I was hoping to watch it.” He started chewing on his fingers again. “She is? Are you are freaking kidding me?” His eyes shot over to mine. The way he reacted made me wonder what they were talking about.

  “Are you serious? Unbelievable!” He breathed out a long sigh. “That’s… really good to know.” He chuckled. “Thanks!”

  Ryan had a huge grin on his face as he shoved his phone back in his pocket. I was staring at him, hoping that he would let me in on the conversation.

  “So, Taryn… Pete tells me that you are a big-time Pittsburgh Steelers fan. Is this true?”

  “Oh, yeah! And a h
uge Pens fan too.” I nodded.

  “You like ice hockey, too?” He looked at me like I was lying.

  “I love hockey,” I said with a big yawn, feeling sleepy and drained.

  “You know I grew up near Pittsburgh, right?” he asked, waiting for my confirmation.

  “No, I didn’t. You only told me that you’re from Pennsylvania or ‘PeeAye’ as you call it. Oh wait, you did tell me that you attended Pitt.” I yawned again. “So you like football too, I take it?”

  He was just sitting there shaking his head in disbelief again.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he dismissed my stare, getting up to stretch.

  I saw him glancing around, taking in the sights of my different belongings. He ran his fingers over my DVD collection and commented that I didn’t have any of his movies.

  “Sorry, not a fan.” I shrugged, teasing him.

  He leered at me.

  “Wait a minute!” he said as he pulled a DVD from the shelf. “You do have a movie I was in!” He showed the cover to me. I honestly could not remember if he was in the movie or not.

  “You weren’t in that movie!”

  “Actually I am,” he stressed. “My part was supposed to be bigger, but I got edited down to only four speaking lines. I’m in the mall scene.”

  Ryan started to reminisce about the beginnings of his acting career and how his life was almost normal back in those days. How he could go out in public and barely, if ever, be recognized.

  “So how many movies have you been in?”

  “This Seaside we are filming now will be my sixth; that’s including the small role in this movie.” He waved the DVD box in the air.

  “First film was an indie flick called Forever Wanting More. It did so-so at the Sundance Film Festival but now it’s coming out on DVD – go figure. Then I played Ashby in Watchtower. I guess you could say that’s the role that got my name out there.”

  “Wait, when did you go to California?”

  “When I auditioned for Watchtower. I ended up sharing an apartment with Alan Schefler.”