by Mara White
“Something like that,” he said, rubbing his hands through his hair. “Are they okay?”
“Miranda and the baby? Both sleeping. She’s exhausted, but the baby’s vitals are great—that’s the most important part. It’s an overwhelming experience, birth. Life. Death. The whole thing.”
“I take it you’ve done that before?”
“Only twice. One baby lived, the other one died.”
“I’m sorry,” Ryan said, his throat feeling the tightness of tears. He looked up at the sky. What an extraordinary effort if was to come into this world and leaving it seemed unfairly easy. Life was tenuous, mortality scary. Death was so cruel and yet life was stronger, he’d just witnessed it in all of its raw and almighty glory. “Sometimes I feel guilty, Barbara. I’m supposed to be here helping and it always ends up that you—”
“Stop, Ryan! You were amazing in there. Trial by fire. That’s how I learned, too. You were very positive, that’s half the battle.” She extinguished her cigarette on the cement wall of their humble medical center.
It seemed incongruent with her whole personality to smoke cigarettes; Ryan thought this since the first time he saw her light up. He never mentioned it because Barbara was definitely capable of making her own choices and he knew all too well that, deep down, we all have our little demons.
“Anyway, that was a gift. All of this has been a life changing gift, so thank you,” he said, looking up at her. She stood maybe five feet tall in sneakers, probably weighed under a hundred. Her dark hair was glossy and board straight and her eyes always looked pleased, even when she wasn’t smiling.
“Wait till mid-rainy season and we get a Chagas bug outbreak. Tell me then how much you love it here!”
Chapter 24
Jackie
She’d done it.
Moved to California.
If Rose hadn’t pushed her to do so, Jackie would have never left the apartment or her Dad’s farm. But Rose had a way about her and seemed to always win. Jackie had begged Rose to move with her. It would be a fresh start. They could raise Lola together. But Rose had, very sternly, told her she was an idiot. That moving and making a life for herself was something she had to do alone. That she would miss her but in the end, the right thing to do was to be independent. Leaving Lola had been incredibly hard. Jackie had been there for all the little girl’s firsts. Her first step, word, solid food. But Rose held firm and told her that it was time to get the hell out of Wisconsin.
All she wanted was to check out and get back to her apartment. The little old lady in front of her was counting out change to pay for her cigarettes and gum. Jackie almost laughed. She spun a display full of postcards around to kill the time. An overwhelming sense of longing rushed through her. She grabbed a postcard from the rack. It said welcome to California and had a surfer on it. Finally, the old woman moved slowly away from the counter. Jackie put up her spoils and the postcard and paid.
She stared at the postcard all night. Through dinner it glared at her from the coffee table. Through True Blood, it winked at her. She paused the show and picked it up. Flipped it over in her hands. She desperately wanted to but was also terrified to send it. What if Ryan was married now? What if he had kids? What if’s circled in her head, taunting, teasing, upsetting. Finally, she snatched a pen from her purse, wrote her return address and ‘Hi’ as a message. She addressed it to the only address she had for him which was his parents. Surely they would get it to him. She put a stamp on it, jogged down her apartment steps to the mailbox and stuck it in. With a deep breath she raised the little red flag.
It was three months before Rose, via phone calls, never-ending texts and emails, had convinced her to see a therapist in California. But Jackie had caved. She’d slipped into a depression that first month alone in a new state. She didn’t make friends. She didn’t go out. She ate ramen noodles and wallowed in all the ways she’d fucked up her life or life had fucked her. Now she was on an antidepressant and biweekly therapy sessions. She couldn’t deny it was working. She felt marginally better every morning when she woke up.
Today she had an interview at Buck’s Driving School. She was excited about it. Six months ago, she’d started teaching a driving safety class back home. It allowed her to get to know local teens, some who’d even known her sisters. She talked to them about all the distractions they faced while driving and how fatal those could be. Somehow, it made Jackie feel like she was contributing, like she was helping to save maybe one other life from death by car accident.
She pulled on her blazer and walked to Buck’s. It was four miles but she didn’t mind walking in the ever-comfortable warm California air. She promised herself that if she got the job teaching driver’s ed today, she would take herself out to celebrate. She would not spend the evening inside alone. There were always things happening. Movies in the park, street fairs, lectures. She could find something to do that was somewhat social. Hadn’t her therapist or Rose or somebody, somewhere, told her that self-care was the first step to recovery?
Chapter 25
Ryan
Coming back to the States was a huge adjustment. Fish out of water for a year and a half, only to come home to the same feeling magnified in spades. Ryan wasn’t sure he belonged in Iowa any more than he belonged in Kinal, but he did have a renewed vigor for life, a new passion for his job and in helping people in general. Des Moines felt outright luxurious compared to his digs in Guatemala, his bed was a deluxe haven, his apartment was the size of the whole barracks that he and three other working missionaries had shared. No bugs to worry about, no supplies, no having to travel four hours on foot to get anything important. The grocery store was obscene. For his first shopping trip, his mother Diane accompanied him. Ryan was floored, he stood dumbstruck in the aisle, staring at the mounds and piles of produce from every corner of the world.
“It seems like too much when you first come back, right, son? I remember. I think your father and I still did mostly beans and rice at home for a whole year afterward. It’s overwhelming.”
“I took it all for granted before,” Ryan said. The idea of waste gutted him; he thought about what it would mean to the community, if he could get just one truck full through of those hard to get supplies back to the mission. Paper products, sponges, cooking oil, baby formula—his brain ran through a checklist, as if he hadn’t left.
Diane started squeezing melons. She had on a turquoise shirt that made her eye color look so bright. Ryan looked from the produce to his mother and back again, it was comforting to know that his parents had gone through the exact same culture shock.
“Well, did you ever regret coming back?”
“Oh, heavens no, Ryan. We always knew we’d come back to the church. We were blessed with Carlos and Andres. We knew we had a life back here waiting for us. That’s not to say we didn’t miss the country or the friends we’d made over the years. Why do you think we dragged you boys to week-long missions over the years?”
“So that Carlos and Andres could get in touch with their roots?”
“Well, we’re not entirely altruistic, darling. You father missed the food. And the views and our community and as you know, it is refreshing to take a break from American culture every now and again.” She picked up a pint of strawberries and placed them in Ryan’s cart.
“Those seem extravagant,” Ryan said, almost without thinking.
“They are. Eat them all with some ice cream and it will be your initiation test back into Iowa.” Ryan rolled his eyes and laughed at his mom. “How do you think I learned to raise four hungry boys on a preacher’s salary?”
“You worked, too.”
“I did, but I also learned a lot about conservation. Take those lessons and apply them to your life. They’ll serve you well.”
“Okay, Yoda,” Ryan prodded her. He pulled a pint of ice cream from the freezer. It had been such a long time, he was tempted to ask for a plastic spoon at the checkout and eat it on the way home in the car.
“Did y
ou make any special friends in Guate?” Diane asked. He knew it was coming. His mother wanted him to settle down so badly. “Or I suppose there weren’t any female missionaries in Kinal. I know the local girls get married and have families so young.” She was rambling and squeezing loaves of Italian bread.
“I was really close with Barbara, she was the head nurse from Belize. She taught me so much stuff. I feel like I practically have a nursing degree.”
“I’ve always loved the name Barbara. Did she stay in Kinal?”
“Yeah. The mission would go under without her. Barb and Jonah are holding it up by themselves. I kind of think the two of them might end up together.” Ryan could see the flicker of disappointment blink across his mom’s face. So, she was hoping to marry him off in Guatemala—what else was new?
Unpacking his groceries into virtually empty cupboards, Ryan decided to call Carlos and invite him over. One week back at his parents had pushed him to rent a place that was slightly above his budget. But walking around the townhouse and opening up all of the shades, he appreciated the panoramic view and the modern amenities, the cleanliness of the place. He had a couch, the ancient sectional from his parents’ basement. Cal, his father, had paid to have it professionally cleaned and it looked nearly new again. The piece of furniture held memories of roughhousing with his brothers, movie nights with popcorn and make-out sessions with girlfriends once they were all in high school. The couch was on loan, as was his bed, which was lifted from the spare room in the basement.
“Dad needs more space for his decorations anyway,” Ryan had smart-aleced to his mother as he and Calvin carried the mattress out to the truck.
“Ryan, don’t encourage him, next he’ll be emptying out our bedroom.”
The bed and the couch were plenty compared to what he was used to. His experience in Guatemala made him see the world differently, he didn’t need much. Just a couch, a bed, some groceries and he was set. His new job at an outpatient rehab center started on Monday.
He sat down in the middle of the couch and threw his arms behind his head and crossed his ankles. He realized in a moment of acute clarity, that the only thing missing was a companion. A girlfriend.
Arrgg! He tried to will himself not to think her name.
Then he mentally berated himself for his sentimentality. Some guys couldn’t get over their college football careers, reliving every play. Ryan was over football and over the camaraderie and the adventurous socializing of college, but what he could never seem to get past was the fact that during those two years with Jackie, he felt more like himself than he ever had before. He was comfortable with her and she truly was his best friend. Unfortunately, the years apart didn’t dull the absence, they made it more profound. He wasn’t sure if was his or her sadness. Sadness for her, which neither of them had been able to process. If he had any regrets in life, they all revolved around not pushing Jackie harder. If he could have a second chance at one thing, it would be how he reacted to her grief. Ryan scrubbed his face with his hands and let it all go with a forced exhale.
Carol had contacted him twice already since he’d gotten back and he figured he should return her call. She wasn’t seeing anyone. He hoped that didn’t have anything to do with him.
Ryan didn’t yet have a television and all of his books were still in storage. He reluctantly pulled on jogging clothes, his new plan included regaining the muscle mass he’d lost in Kinal. He would have to start lifting. After grabbing a water bottle and a couple of energy bars, Ryan tied up the laces of his running shoes and put on his windbreaker. Exercise always helped him to put things in perspective.
The cold rain pelted him as he ran a grueling eight miles. His feet slammed into the pavement and his lungs burned with the sheer exertion which he had become unaccustomed to in Central America. A car full of young girls sped past and they lowered the windows to whistle and gawk at him.
Sweat ran down his body in rivulets as he guzzled a Gatorade back in the spotless kitchen of his new apartment. He slapped his rain and sweat soaked running clothes into the sink as he stepped under a steaming shower head.
With a towel around his waist, he ran to answer the phone that was buzzing on the couch. Two missed called from Carlos, one from Andres and a text from Scotty saying he’d be up next weekend. Ryan beamed. He had the best fucking family in the world. Maybe he didn’t have a romantic relationship or any strong prospects at the moment and maybe he was hung up on the first girl who had both won and then broken his heart. But he had three brothers who were also his best friends and two amazing parents who were always there for him when he needed them. Life was good. He was blessed and he knew it. The run had put him on top of the world and his future looked bright and promising
Chapter 26
Ryan
She was on time, right down to the minute. Something most people would appreciate but for some reason, he didn’t. Carol. Her predictability irked him and he realized it wasn’t rational. Who gets mad at their girlfriend for showing up when they’re supposed to.
He watched her walk from her car to his front door. Her hair was perfectly done, makeup and fragrance applied in respectable amounts.
She’d waited for him, even though he’d told her not to. She expected commitment from Ryan in return and he reluctantly complied with her expectations. He felt pressure due to the fact that they’d now been dating on and off for over five years. That was a long stretch of time to spend with someone, when you weren’t feeling that serious. And Carol wanted more, he knew she did, but she was too decent or too shy to pressure Ryan or give him an ultimatum.
She rang the buzzer on the minute, he knew because he looked at his watch. Apparently, he thought late was sexy. Ryan felt guilty and he pulled on his sports jacket.
“Hey,” she smiled sweetly at him, as he opened the door.
“You want to come in or should we hit the road.” Carol looked at her watch. As if she doesn’t know exactly what time it is.
“Maybe get a move on. The show starts at eight.”
Carol liked theater and Ryan considered it a two hour nap with his eyes open. The musicals were the worst because they shook you out of your trance with catchy lyrics and melodies that would inevitably come to mind whenever he stepped in the shower.
Faker. He told himself as they got into his car. What if he went through the motions so well he ended up married with kids and in suburban Iowa with the pleasant Carol by his side. What a jerk he was for thinking that was a bad thing. In the years since he’d returned from Guatemala, he’d felt restlessness in his heart.
“Do you want to come to the cabin in Vail with us over the holidays?” Carol asked him, as she shifted her salad around the plate with her fork. Carol liked going to nice restaurants but she only ordered salad. Ryan didn’t get it and forced her to try forkfuls of his meal so she’d be tempted to order something substantial.
“Hmm, well, I’m pretty committed to holidays with my folks,” Ryan said nonchalantly. He bit the inside of his cheek as the words came out of his mouth. Carol was always going on about commitment, a subject he avoided at all costs. But he’d just admitted to her that he was more committed to his parents than he was to their relationship.
“Really?” she said looking up at him in surprise. She was a beautiful woman. Blonde hair, green eyes, a great body. She was nice and smart and probably the whole package. Ryan wished he could round up the attention and desire she deserved, but it just wasn’t in him.
“I’m sorry, Carol.” He’d heard himself say that phrase so many times, it was humiliating.
“Ryan, I’ve given you the better part of five years. If you can’t accommodate my needs, if you can’t adjust your schedule to fit me or my family in, I don’t think I can stay in this relationship.
Ryan wished she would throw her drink in his face like they did on daytime soaps. A little action to brighten up what had turned into a lousy date—his fault as usual. What the fuck was wrong with him? Maybe he’d just go back to ho
ok-ups, like when he was younger. No feelings involved, just bodies and some alcohol. But the strangest part was that Ryan knew that wasn’t him. He did want the whole deal. A house, kids, a dog—raucous holidays, messes and fights and making up, milestones—love in all its crazy manifestations, highs and lows and even heartbreak. He did want those things. Maybe just not with Carol.
She threw her napkin down on her half eaten salad.
“I think I want you to take me home,” she said, fighting back tears.
She wanted an engagement ring and all Ryan wanted was a beer.
“I’m sorry, Carol. I wish I wasn’t such a disappointment.
Ryan believed in true love but for whatever reason, Carol didn’t fill his heart up.
Ryan was driving when his mom called. He didn’t like to answer his phone in the car. Knowing her, she was calling because his dad had forgotten to pick something up from her list at the store. He pulled over into a strip mall that had a decent sized grocery store.
“Mom, did you call?”
“Oh, hi, Ryan, love! How are you?”
“Did dad forget to pick something up?” He was on his way over for dinner. His dad usually asked him to bring beer if anything—more for him and his brothers, but Cal might drink one or two. He’d never seen his father drunk. His mother only at weddings, drank enough champagne to get tipsy and dance.
“No, but I wanted to tell you that you had mail.”
“Ma?! I’m on my way over to the house. For dinner. Did you forget?” Ryan’s heart did a little chug, one of his greatest fears was having one of his parent’s get senile. Not the forgetting groceries part, but the fear of them not recognizing him for some reason terrified him.
