Fortunate Son

by Jay Crownover

  Ry’s dad and mine grew up together. They were super tight and honestly really similar in a ton of ways. My dad was a little more easygoing, but both were the type of men who would move mountains and conquer any obstacle for their families. I knew that the twins and I were always my dad’s first priority in anything he did, and I knew Ry’s dad felt the same way. I never really understood why Ry put so much pressure on himself to achieve so much and be so perfect. His old man didn’t seem to give a single shit about accolades or accomplishments. He wasn’t the kind to brag or boast unnecessarily or one to live vicariously through his children’s achievements. He wasn’t the one pushing Ry to do so much, to work so hard, but he was always there to make sure his kid was okay and ready to offer a boost when Ry burnt out. They had a weird dynamic I could never put my finger on, but I was sure it played into why it sometimes seemed like Ry had two different boys living inside of him.

  Ry pushed his empty plate away and patted his annoyingly flat stomach. “I’ll call my mom when we get back to your place. I need another day or two before I’m ready to be yelled at by my dad for being inconsiderate.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and asked with a smirk, “Are you going to tell your parents I’m crashing at your place? Your fanboys don’t scare me, but your dad does. He might not like you being alone in that house with a guy, even if the guy is a childhood friend.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “When my parents agreed to let me take a year off before discussing going back to college, they agreed to let me live on my own. They don’t get to tell me who’s allowed to stay in my house.” Not that they would anyway. They trusted my judgment for the most part. Aside from my lack of restraint toward the handsome boy across from me, I’d never really been one to make questionable decisions.

  His smirk turned a bit condescending. “Oh yeah? Who’s paying the rent while the other two rooms are empty? Because even if you’re working or managed to score a gig here and there, there is no way in hell you’re paying for that entire house on your own.”

  Goddamnit. I hated how observant and perceptive he always was. The boy never missed a thing. Even something as innocuous as empty rooms. “Don’t worry about who’s paying for it.”

  He chuckled and leaned forward, crossing his arms on the edge of the table. “They might have agreed to let you live on your own, but as long as they’re paying the bills, they have the right to pop in whenever they want. I’m not saying they will, your parents are too cool for that, but it could happen. You should keep that in mind if you’re going to have skinny, mouthy, punk rock guys showing up out of the blue. And you might want to move some of your stuff out of the common areas before your roommates show up. It looks like a recording studio, not a house.”

  I scowled and grabbed the discarded wrapper from my straw so I could throw it at him. “I was planning on finding a place for everything before they show up. They aren’t supposed to move in until late July anyway. And you heard everything I said this afternoon. He wasn’t invited over, and I had no intentions of letting him in. He plays bass in my band. He’s actually the brother of my keyboard player, who is a really good friend of mine. Maybe he was just protective because you took him by surprise. I think anyone would be intimidated if they encountered you opening the door unexpectedly… especially half-dressed.”

  I knew that wasn’t the case, but for the sake of keeping things cool within the band, I hoped to play it off. Nyle had been hinting harder and harder lately that he would like to take our casual friendship to a different level. However, I didn’t date anyone I played music with. I’d seen more than one band break up when the romantic entanglements overshadowed the music, and I wasn’t about that life. I wanted to write songs and create something amazing. I wasn’t interested in finding a boyfriend or falling in love.

  I’d been burned by those foolish desires when I was younger. Back then, Ry was the one holding the matches and the one who started the blaze. Everything about him was hot. And not always in a good way.

  Ry snorted. “He was about to tell me you were his girlfriend if you hadn’t shown up when you did. Sounds like you better put someone in their place before it gets out of hand.” He tilted his head slightly to the side and considered me silently for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his deep voice was surprisingly serious and missing the snark and sarcasm he usually used when speaking to me. “You got your mom to agree to let you take a gap year. What are you going to do if the band doesn’t take off, or you don’t achieve your dreams within that time frame? Are you worried that you’re going to fall behind everyone else? Are you scared you might have to consider going to college like the rest of us if things don’t pan out with the music thing?”

  They were all questions I’d heard before. In fact, my mother had more and asked them repeatedly when I told her I had no interest in going back to college after I flunked out of my first semester. Higher education was never my calling, but I promised her I would try. It ended up an epic failure, so now I had no choice but to make music work for me.

  “Not everyone has their life planned out in finite detail the way you do, Archer. Not everyone is so afraid to fail they refuse to even try the way you do. Who says I’ll be behind if I change my mind about school in the future? There are students of all shapes and sizes these days. Going to college right after graduation isn’t the answer for everyone. There are so many options to consider. Even if someone like you,” and my mother, if I was truthful, “can’t see them.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Besides, I’m never going to give up on making music even if it ends up as nothing more than a hobby I do on the side down the road. Don’t you feel that way about football?”

  He had played for as long as I could remember. He was always running off to practice or for a game. He seemed as dedicated to his performance as I was to creation and the stage. It was the one thread we had in common, or so I thought.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders and reached out to toss the wrapper back in my direction. “I’m good at football. Always have been. That’s why I keep playing. You’re good at making music. Isn’t that why you’ve stuck with it all this time?”

  I recoiled and shook my head; the violent action made the purple ends of my hair stick to my lips, so I reached up to pick the pieces free from my lip gloss. “I stick with it because it’s part of me. I feel empty inside when I’m not working on a new song or playing an instrument. I’m happiest when I’m performing for others and sharing something I made with a crowd who is just as passionate as I am. I’m a musician. That’s who and what I am. Aren’t you a football player? Isn’t that a huge part of what defines who you are?”

  He gave me a blank look that started to make me uneasy after a bit. Eventually, he broke the silence and stare-down by telling me he would take care of the bill and mentioning he was ready to go. We still needed to grab some stuff from the store. He refused to give me an answer when I demanded to know how long he was going to stay, which made me think he didn’t know the answer himself.

  Uncertainty wasn’t something I often associated with Ry Archer, but he’d surprised me more than once during the course of lives.

  I followed him out of the restaurant to his truck. I glanced down at my phone as it pinged with messages, one right after the other.

  The first was from Nyle’s sister Joey asking for all the details about Ry. Apparently, her brother had wasted no time filling her in about my surprise visitor. I ignored that one and instead focused on the one from Daire. Just as I expected, she told me her parents were threatening to get on a flight to Austin if they didn’t hear from Ry soon. She gave me a heads-up that her dad had been in touch with my dad, so there was a solid chance I might end up seeing my parents sooner rather than later if Ry didn’t pull his head out of his ass.

  I messaged her back letting her know that he promised to call their mom before the day was done. I even snapped a quick pic of him where he was standing by the bed of the truck, watching me behind the lenses of his sunglasses, as I lagged behi
nd. I hoped it would serve as proof of life and keep all the parents involved in place until the boy pulled his shit together and got back to acting like his bossy, responsible, hyper-perfectionist self.

  “I play football, but it’s not who I am. I don’t have anything to define me the way music does you.”

  I stumbled to a stop at his words and froze when he lowered his glasses and looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite define.

  “I honestly think I’m totally empty on the inside.” He sounded kind of hollowed out and gutted. “Half the time, I don’t know who I am or what purpose I serve. At least I know what’s required of me on the football field. There’s no guesswork there, and if I’m not good enough, I know exactly why.”

  I wasn’t sure how much of this had to do with his recent breakup or if he was actually having an existential crisis in this parking lot.

  I sighed and fished my own sunglasses out of my purse. I covered my eyes because it was hard to keep him from seeing how deeply his words affected me. He was the last person on earth most people would feel sorry for. On the surface, he had everything, but I knew because he had so much, he often felt he was unworthy of any of it.

  That was the reason he worked so damn hard all the time.

  “You’re not empty. You’re full of breakfast burritos and green chili.” I moved toward the passenger door. “You also told me you needed clean underwear, so let’s take care of the little things we can actually manage and worry about the big, life-changing issues when you aren’t also dealing with being freshly dumped. Everything seems so much harder than it is when it’s weighed down by despair.”

  Once we were seated inside the truck, he slid his sunglasses down his nose and turned to look at me.

  “How can you sound so certain about that, Bowe? Have you had to look at things through the lens of a broken heart? When have you ever cared enough about anyone else to let them mess you up like that?” He sounded genuinely curious, and I didn’t blame him.

  I’d long let it be known that while everyone else was running around trying to find someone to make out with or hook up with, I’d been convincing my dad to buy me a new guitar or take me on tour with him. I was never lovestruck, or at least, I didn’t let it show the one time I was.

  I reached out and used my index finger to push his glasses back up over his icy blue eyes. I nervously cleared my throat when I felt the heat radiating from his skin. A muscle jumped in his cheek as I pulled my hand back and shifted anxiously in my seat.

  “I wouldn’t say my heart has ever been broken, but there was a time when it was definitely bruised. It ended up a little bit black and blue when I forgot to be careful with it.” I could feel him staring at me even as I turned my head to look out the windshield. “Let’s go. I have things to do at the house, and you need to call your mom.”

  I didn’t want to continue the conversation.

  I didn’t want him to keep asking questions.

  And I really didn’t want him to know that the one time my internal fondness meter tipped from like to love was the one summer when I forgot how much I hated him and how different we were.

  That summer, I let him steal my very first kiss and let myself blindly stumble down a path of exploration and experimentation there was no coming back from. Like I said, I was his first everything as well. Neither one of us knew what we were doing or how it would end. There had always been a spark between the two of us, but I don’t think either of us was ready for what would happen when those little embers caught fire and burned hot enough that we were both left singed and scarred.

  I would never forget that summer. Or the way my young, fragile, untried heart cracked just a little bit when I heard that Ry was suddenly dating another girl. And she wasn’t one who always chased him and lingered around, waiting to be noticed. She wasn’t one who was simple and easy.

  No. This girl was the total opposite of me. She was someone he knew just as well as he knew me. She was someone he wouldn’t dare throw away or mistreat. And since I knew her, had grown up with her, I couldn’t deny the two of them were a good match. They were a much better fit than he and I would ever be, regardless of how we were drawn to one another.

  It hurt, just like he said.

  Having a bruised heart was no fun, but I bounced back fast.

  I told myself over and over again when I tried to forget all about him that I was never going to let him get close enough to do that kind of damage again.

  That was just one of the important life lessons I’d learned from Ry Archer.

  Ry

  “I’M SORRY, MOM. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I know I was irresponsible and not behaving like myself.”

  I blew out a breath and dragged a hand down my face as I peered into the darkness that filled Bowe’s tiny backyard. I could hear the ruckus from the busy street a few blocks over, and the squeak of some kind of bug. However, over all those sounds, I could hear my mother trying to keep her cool on the other end of the call.

  My mom was most definitely the disciplinarian in our family. She was the rule maker and the regulator. She doled out punishment and made Daire and me face the consequences of our actions when we screwed up. My old man was a bit too unconventional and very much marched to his own rhythm. He often encouraged some of the bad behavior that drove my mother bananas. He didn’t like conformity of any kind, so he was far more lax with us kids when we were young. That wasn’t to say he tolerated any bullshit, but he wasn’t so big on reprimands. He would much rather we learn from our mistakes and figure out how not to make them again on our own. He often told me that experience was the greatest teacher I was ever going to have.

  My mom was also a hero.

  She saved lives for a living. She was brilliant and probably the most compassionate woman in the whole world. She worked hard, which meant she was often absent from important events, but I never felt like I lacked her time or attention. When she was home, she was solely focused on the family, sometimes to the point of being overbearing. She and my dad obviously had opposite parenting styles, which I guess covered all the bases and needs me and my sister could ever have.

  My mom sighed, and I could picture her trying to pick her words carefully. She was a very deliberate and thoughtful woman. She put others first without a thought and hated to hurt anyone. She was also an absolute perfectionist, so when I really thought about it, I realized I took after her a little more than I ever thought. I was sure she was ready to tear me a new one for taking off without a word and for waiting so long to check in, but she knew I was dealing with a flood of new feelings since getting dumped, so she was treading lightly.

  “Did you consider what could have happened to you out there on the road all by yourself in the middle of the night? Your truck could’ve broken down and left you stranded. What if you got into an accident? Your dad and I didn’t even know you were gone. We wouldn’t have been able to help you at all if something happened. I’m not upset that you felt like you needed to get away or that you needed space. I’m hurt that you didn’t consider how worried the people who love you would be about you when you dropped off the face of the earth. Your poor sister. Do you know she was in tears until you finally answered the phone? And your cousin.” She signed again. “Your dad and uncle nearly came to blows when he went over there to question Zowen about where you might be. You owe a lot of people an apology, Ry.”

  I nodded toward the night even though she couldn’t see me. “I know. I really wasn’t thinking. It all took me by surprise, and I just wanted to put as much space between me and Aston as possible. I didn’t want to do or say something I would regret. I’ll talk to Dad and Uncle Rome tomorrow. I’ll also clear things up with Zowen. Don’t worry.”

  She let out a little laugh. “I’m your mom. It is my job to worry about you. I’ll do it until the day I die. It doesn’t matter how grown you are. You’re still my baby.”

  I propped an elbow on my knee and leaned forward, frowning into the darkness in front
of me. “Mom,” I trailed off as I tried to wrestle my convoluted thoughts into some sort of order. “You’re a doctor.”

  The other end of the line went silent for a second before she replied with obvious confusion, “I am. I always have been. But I’ve also always been your mother. What’s your point?”

  I gave my head a confused shake. “I don’t know that I have one. I was just thinking about how you’re a doctor, and Dad’s an artist. That’s not only what you both do, but it’s part of who you both are. I don’t think I have something like that, and it sucks. Mostly because I’m not sure how I find something that defines me.”

  My mom was quiet for a minute. Again, I knew she was trying to pick the right words rather than just saying anything that might hurt more than it helped. When she did speak, her voice was soft and soothing. It was the same one she used when I was little and scared of the dark or the monsters under the bed.

  “There are a lot of things that make me who I am. I’m a doctor. A mother. A wife. An aunt. A friend. A daughter. An advocate. All those little pieces make the whole. I didn’t have them all when I was your age. I collected them one by one as I lived my life and experienced new things. As I grew and learned and taught others. You have some of the pieces of who you’re meant to be already, Ry. Don’t be in such a rush to collect them all too soon. I understand that you really liked Aston and that you were serious about her, but you are both still young. You have so much more to look forward to than just being someone’s boyfriend. Once you’ve had some time to heal this tiny hurt, you’ll recognize that.”