by Grea Warner
I didn’t need to be nervous at all, though. All three of the northern California Thompsons were very welcoming. They peppered me with noninvasive, but really wanting-to-get-to-know-me questions throughout the tour of their home. The house was very rustic with wood elements and stone fireplaces, which reminded me a lot of the farmhouse roots of Ryan’s home, although on a smaller scale.
When Dylan showed us the guest room—which was more like a suite—his wife and son started loading their car for their trip. As Ryan placed our bags on the bedroom sofa, I examined the soaring ceiling and then noted the photo on the table. There was a teenager in a red and white tank top and cutoff jean shorts. He was flexing his muscles on the back of an older blue pickup truck.
I gave it a second glance and then, holding the photo in his direction, practically shouted, “Ryan, is this you?”
Ryan turned from the bags to see what I was referencing and, after a frowning of his eyes, shoved his brother who was standing next to him. “Unbelievable.”
Dylan laughed. “Dork personified.”
“Yeah. Uh-huh.” He grabbed the photo from me and turned it upside down on the nearby chair. “Can’t you ever cut me a break?” He looked at his older sibling.
“Nope.” Dylan smirked. “That’s why God gave us you, Ryan.” As Ryan shook his head, Dylan said, “Besides, I still owe you for the toast at my wedding.”
“That was a long time ago, and that debt has been paid in full ... and then some.”
“Paid in full would be if I had done it back to you. But you, chicken-shit, went off and elop—” Dylan stopped midsentence and looked at me with a wash of guilt streaking across his face.
“Good job, dumb ass.” Ryan rolled his eyes at the mention of his wedding to Kari in front of me.
In the milli-second of awkward silence that filled the air, I broke it. “You were ... are married, Ryan? What?” I mocked and then smiled.
“Well, I can see what you see in her.” Dylan looked at his brother with a smile and then turned to me. “But what the heck do you see in this chum?”
A thought suddenly bombarded my brain, and I literally blinked before resorting to something sarcastic instead. “Obviously, his fashion sense.” I flipped the photo back over. “And there’s also the brawns over brains.”
“Thanks, Lenay. Just what I need—another person to pile on the ‘let’s harass Ryan bandwagon.”
“I thought it was a pickup truck,” I teased.
Dylan started laughing, and Ryan pulled me into those truly strong arms of his. But it wasn’t the muscles that turned me on. It was the most content smile on his face. I could already tell that being away and reconnecting with some of his family seemed to put a calm in Ryan that I had never been witness to before.
“Dad, let’s go!” Levi called from the downstairs of the house.
“All right, I am being summoned. Try not to burn the place down or lose the dog.”
“Try not to be the nerdy soccer dad.” Ryan wrinkled his nose at his brother. “Oh, too late.”
“Uh-huh. Later, Ry. Nice meeting you, Bethany.”
When the trio left, we explored the expansive property, which included the beautiful vineyard. We brought a few bottles back to enjoy with some light snacks on the deck, complete with firepit. There we talked about Garrett and the worry that hung over my family. My brother’s appointments wouldn’t happen until a few days later and, hopefully, I would have news of the results while in Carolina. We also talked about Sallie and Joel—whom Ryan resisted contacting since he wouldn’t have normally called any other weekend. However, because of an alert on his phone, he did know his house security system was set for staying-in at quarter after seven, which greatly reassured him.
It was a nice, quiet, relaxing way to end our day. So much so, we fell asleep right there. I woke up once because of the chilled middle-of-the-night air. But then I curled myself deeper into Ryan’s protective arms. Feeling his body’s warmth and listening to his rhythmic whistle breath put me into a peaceful sleep once again.
***
The following day, we went into town. I loved all of it—the slow pace of the streets, the quaint restaurant we had lunch at, and the unique little shops. But there was something else I loved even more. Midway through our excursion in town, Ryan had taken my hand and claimed it with his own as we freely walked the sidewalks. We were far from Hollywood, media, or anyone who would personally recognize us. And although there was still a risk of Ryan being identified, it seemed slim since he was dressed casually and had sunglasses on. Besides, what harm could really happen when the divorce announcement was just two days away?
After we finished a late dinner back at the house, Ryan joined our hands again but this time to pull me into his embrace. His mouth found mine in the most delicious way, and it wasn’t just because of us sipping cabernet. It was because of the natural ease and pull of our two bodies. When he slipped his hands into the rear pockets of my jeans, tugging me that much closer, I thought I moaned, loving the touch and togetherness.
But it might not have been me. It very well could have been the dog, whom I felt nudging between our legs. I tried not to laugh as Ryan, most definitely, grumbled at the goldendoodle, who obviously needed to go out.
“Geez, Vino.” He broke our hold and petted the mop-headed dog. “Okay ... okay. Way to ruin the moment for me, man.” Vino barked, I laughed, and Ryan pointed toward the door where Vino’s leash hung. “Door,” he directed the dog.
“Think of it as your exercise. I know you love going to the gym at your office building.”
“Love and need are two different things. Can’t wait to tease you when you’re thirty-something and the pounds don’t come off as easy.” He pecked me quickly on the lips. “I’ll be right back.” Slinging his jacket over his shoulders, he pretended to kick the dog before the two walked out into the night.
***
I was finishing brushing my teeth when Ryan rejoined me not too much later. “Damn dog,” he teased with a smile before saddling up behind me, pulling my hair to the side, and kissing my shoulder, exposed by the simple white tank I was wearing.
“Joel would love to take the dog out.”
“Don’t I know it.” He shook his head and went for his own toothbrush.
Sitting on the edge of the old-fashioned tub, I was watching him brush his teeth when he called out my name. “What?” I questioned.
He did a slight chuckle. “I said your name twice. What were you thinking about?”
I hadn’t realized I was so deep in thought that my auditory senses had failed me. I did, however, know what I was thinking about. It was him—him and the thought that had sprung into my brain the day before when his brother had questioned me. And it was also his teasing comment about still knowing me when I was in my thirties—years away.
“Lenay?” He was leaning against the sink, staring at me.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” It wasn’t just the sound of his voice, it was in the way he scrunched his face that told me he doubted the validity of my white lie.
“Just wondering what the plan is for tomorrow.” I mean, I did want to know.
He blinked quickly and then held his hand for me to take it and get up. As I did, he proposed his idea. “What do you think about fishing?”
“Fishing?” I repeated.
“Mmmm-hmmm,” he replied as we walked into the adjoining bedroom. “Ever been?”
“No.”
“I think you’d like it ... quiet, solitude, peaceful. It’s for the thinker in you.” He emphasized the word “thinker” surely still wondering what my lost-in-thought mood was all about. As we both sat on the red floral bedspread, Ryan continued, “There’s a place not even an hour from home. We can leave here as soon as big pain-in-the-ass bro returns.” He stood up and removed his jeans, leaving on only his boxers and T-shirt.
“You fished growing up?” I returned to the original topic.
“Yeah ... the whole Thomps
on clan.”
“I just can’t picture you outdoorsy.”
“Still the mean, no-frills judge from TV, huh?” He sat down again.
“Not.” I poked him on his side. “At.” And again. “All. Take me fishing. I think I’d like to try that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Can we bring them back to the house for dinner, or are you going to be a catch-and-release girl?”
“Awww, Ryan ...” He shook his head at my pouty face, and I questioned, “You hold onto them, don’t you?”
“Yeah, usually.”
“But if they’re going to be hurt, you should let them go.”
“Betha—” He stopped himself with a little devious smile. “How about heads or tails?”
I legitimately laughed. “That’s kind of ironic.”
He laughed back. “It is. What are you calling?” he asked and did an extremely sexy sweep of my body with his eyes. “What do you want to be ... heads or tails?”
Knowing what his sexy question was really asking, I pushed my lips together and took off my jeans before saying, “I want to be heads.”
He smiled again, brought his hands to the bottom of my tank top, and lifted it off before going to my hips and gliding me onto his lap. “You got it, and the fish coin flip will wait for later.” His soft feathering of kisses stopped momentarily. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah.” I still couldn’t completely get my mind off what I had been thinking about, and I’m pretty sure Ryan could tell by his question. In reality, though, it had to do with him and being with him, and there was nothing I wanted more. “Yeah,” I reiterated and brought my hands underneath his black shirt right to his heart.
“Yeah? Good.” He touched my lips before kissing me again. “I’m so glad we came here. I can’t imagine anything more perfect than right now.”
My internal and external happy sighs merged. “Ryan, me, either. For real.”
“For real.” He smiled.
***
Our day of fishing was in a lot of ways like our lovemaking the night before. They both were pleasurably long, serene, and different from any other time. I didn’t want the weekend to end, but I at least knew it had the promise of a new beginning with Kari’s press announcement happening the following day.
“It was a great weekend,” I concluded as we were once again in Ryan’s car driving back to his house.
“It’s not over yet, baby. We have fish to cook!” Ryan was still in his free-living mood.
“Poor Nemo.” I pretend pouted.
“Nemo? More like Moby.”
I blew out a burst of air. “Not even. I still can’t believe I let you hold onto the fish.”
“Tails won,” he taunted his actual coin-flip win.
“I know,” I conceded. “Regardless, I didn’t think we were having them tonight.”
“Yeah. You’re coming home with me, right?” His voice was more serious then. When I didn’t answer, he swerved his head in my direction. “She’s leaving right away,” he said softly, and I knew—without me actually voicing it—that he had accurately assessed my concern of dealing with Kari. “I want you there.” That time he had some hints of Judge Ryan in his voice.
Of course I wanted to stay. But before I had a chance to say that, Ryan’s phone started chirping like a bird being attacked by a mad farmer. “What’s all that about?” I asked, looking at his phone resting on the console between us.
“I don’t know,” he started. “Oh, geez, I bet there wasn’t reception out there on the lake. I kind of remember that now. The phone is catching up.”
“It did seem odd that your hip attachment wasn’t alerting you of something.”
“Ha! Ha!” He rolled his eyes, but it was pretty true that Ryan had to stay connected to his phone for his multitude of responsibilities. “I promised you peaceful, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
“Can you check it?” he asked. Because we were in his classic sixties red Mustang—one which would impress my dad—there was none of the modern technology, hands-free, connections like the BMW featured.
I turned his upside-down phone over. “It says you have six missed calls and voice mails.”
“Nuh-uh? In that short amount of time? That’s even a record for me.” He seemed as astonished as I was. “And it’s Sunday—a holiday. No one calls. It’s probably one—or both—of my sisters reminding me to call Mom for Mother’s Day, like I’m not a grown adult who can remember to—”
“I’m afraid we do that to Garrett, too,” I admitted and then read off the first caller’s name. “Dylan.”
“Oh, geez, what did we do? Not put a dish in the right spot in the dishwasher or a pillow needed fluffed? He definitely has the first-born role mastered.”
I swung my head in his direction. “Hey, I’m a first-born.”
“Yeah, but I can overlook the few little tendencies you have because I like looking at you in general.” There was his sexy smile again.
“My tende—” I shook my head but grinned. “Maybe you’d like to listen to what your brother was actually calling about and quit digging yourself in deeper.”
“Go ahead.” He tilted his chin up at me with another smile. “Put it on speaker. You know the code.”
“I don’t.”
“Same as the house.”
As I went to do as I was told, I couldn’t help but internally beam. Ryan didn’t hesitate when it came to me knowing his passwords and listening to the messages. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. He already trusted me with the most precious thing in his life ... his children. But it still made me happy.
“Hey, bro.” Came the voice I had learned over the weekend as Dylan’s. “Wanted to let you know, already heard back from the breeder. She’s gonna have one of Vino’s relatives for you soon.”
Vino? The dog? Breeder?
My mouth dropped open as I turned not only my head but my entire body toward Ryan. “For real?” My voice pitched in excitement.
“It’s time.” I think he was trying not to smile but wasn’t being quite successful. Ryan would try to deny it, but he loved playing with Vino during our stay. “Shhh, though. It’s a surprise for the kids.”
We missed part of Dylan’s message during our conversation, but I think it was about the details of when to get the new pooch. I did not miss the next part of his message, though. And if the first part made me happy, the second part topped it.
“And Bethany? We like her,” Ryan’s brother proclaimed. “She’s a good one. Don’t mess it up.”
“Pfff! Ha!” I spit out and let go of some of the anxiety that still remained over meeting his family.
Ryan shook his head. “You can delete that one.”
“Already saved it.” The day really was turning out beautifully—I actually enjoyed the sport of fishing, Ryan and I were in unison, his family more than accepted me ... “Ry,” I said, looking back down at his phone. “There are three calls from your house ... your landline.”
“Hmmm.” His voice sounded even, but I could tell the little swish of concern that accompanied it by the way he turned his head my direction and his eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. “Play them.”
“Daddy? Daddy?” Sallie’s voice soared through the phone, and Ryan’s head jilted even more so.
“That’s it?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
“Go to the next,” he urged, and I knew why ... Sallie’s two words—her dad’s name—were far from calm. “Are you playing it?”
“Yeah.” But we only heard a few seconds of fuzz. “That was it.”
“Keep going.” Ryan swiveled his head back and forth from me to the road quickly and, if I wasn’t mistaken, was driving a tad bit faster.
“Daddy?” Sallie’s voice had the same fearful inflection. “Mommy’s not acting right. She’s hard to wake up. I don’t know what to do. Daddy? I don’t ... Where are you? I need you. Daddy!”
“O
h, God. What?” Panic struck Ryan’s voice.
And I couldn’t blame him. That message ... those words ... her scared little girl sound ... I was one hundred percent on alert, too.
“What does that mean? She’s not waking up?” He turned to me, and I had a hard time looking in his eyes, not wanting to see the true terror of Ryan as a scared father. “That’s from the house, right?”
I looked back down at the phone, but I knew it was the truth. “Yeah, that’s what it says.”
“Crap!” If I wasn’t sure before, I was then—Ryan was definitely driving faster. “Call the house and give it to me.”
“Ry,” I tried to remain calm. “There’s still another couple calls on here ... from an Irene?”
“Oh, God. Okay. Yeah, play them.”
He brought his right hand up from the steering wheel to swipe at his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but I knew there was something daring to break at the surface. And since I had never been witness to it before, the reality of the situation frightened me even more.
“That’s Kari’s mom,” he identified the caller as I pressed the button to allow us to hear the message.
“Ryan, it’s Irene. I’m taking care of everything ... of course.” Her nasal voice seemed to punctuate every word, especially when boasting her own self-worth.
It made me instantly detest the woman but almost immediately feel bad about it. I was brought up to have more compassion than that. The woman’s daughter was obviously having some kind of crisis. I closed my eyes and tried to think that way, but her next words made me feel very unchristian toward her.
“Ed and I have the kids,” she continued. “Whenever you get done doing whatever you think is more important than answering your daughter’s calls, you better make it over to the hospital.”
“Oh, my God.” Ryan rightfully seemed more concerned about the actual message than the cruel way it was delivered. “Call that number back,” he directed me.
Knowing Ryan needed me to be calm and rational, I put my own panicked feelings aside and said, “There’s another one. Let’s listen, okay?”
I took his nonresponse as an affirmative answer and clicked on the next message from Irene. “We’re all at Sinai. It’s a good place for ... Oh, Jesus, Ryan, where the hell are you?”
