“I like the quiet.”
“Have you ever killed anyone?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose at her newest question and balance my plate in the other hand. I haven’t even been here thirty minutes and I can already feel a headache coming on.
“No, ma’am, I haven’t.” Ryder bites his lip to keep from laughing.
My mom shrugs and announces, “I’m done. He’s a keeper,” and walks off.
I stare after her, horrified. Ryder clutches his stomach as the laughter overtakes him. Cole sees him laughing and joins in with his own over-exaggerated laughter.
“I love your parents,” Ryder says when he can speak; there are tears of laughter on his cheeks.
“Good,” I say, moving to an empty table. “You can adopt them then.”
Ryder clucks his tongue and follows me. “I don’t think it works like that.” He pulls out a chair when I set my plate on the table. I take the seat and he sits down beside me.
“I’m so embarrassed,” I mumble, picking up a chip and crunching on the end of it.
He laughs. “That’s our parents’ job. I’m sure my dad probably said something to you I would’ve rather he didn’t.” I shrug. I can’t argue with him there. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. Is it moving too fast if I say I missed you?” he asks, looking at me beneath his thick dark lashes. I feel my throat catch and I shake my head. I missed him too but I don’t say the words out loud. “So, I was thinking,” he says. “I’m taking Cole to the pool tomorrow. You should come.”
I twist my lips in thought. “I don’t know …”
“Just as friends,” he assures me. “We can talk about the weather.” He laughs. “But I think we’d both have fun and Cole likes you.”
“Cole barely knows me,” I counter.
“Okay, so Cole likes everybody, but it’ll still be fun.”
I find myself nodding. “Okay, sure,” I say and take a bite of my burger. I then point to my belly. “Just don’t expect to see me getting into a skimpy bikini.”
Ryder laughs. “You can wear whatever the hell you want. I don’t care as long as you’re there.” There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, like he fears he’s revealed too much.
I look at him and I see the promise of a future full of laughter and happiness. He’s everything I ever wanted before I met Ben. But I did meet Ben. I lived and I loved Ben, and I also lost him. I’m scared I’ll lose Ryder too—but where I did fear losing him to death, I now fear losing him to my own inability to move on. I know he won’t wait forever for me, but I still don’t know how long it’ll really take for me to be ready to take that next step with him or anyone for that matter.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks me.
“N-Nothing,” I stutter and drop my gaze from his face to the plate.
He chuckles and reaches over the tap my forehead. “Really? Because those creases suggest otherwise.”
I shrug. “Just the future.”
“You look worried,” he comments.
I bite my lip. “There are a lot of changes coming and …” I pause, searching for the right words. “I’m not sure I’m changing with them.”
He shakes his head. “Blaire, if you could see how much you’ve changed since I first met you, you wouldn’t be saying that. You’ve done remarkably well given your circumstances. I don’t know many people that wouldn’t have cracked under the pressure.”
“I’m pretty sure I did.” I try to laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound.
“You didn’t, trust me. You’re one of the most resilient people I’ve ever met, and I admire that about you. Remember, we all grieve differently and we all heal differently. No two stories are ever the same.” He pauses and inhales a breath. “You were so sad when I first met you. There was no light in your eyes. You didn’t smile or laugh. You were simply on auto-pilot, like most people who are grieving. But you didn’t stay that way. Yes, it’s taken months for you to get to this point and it’ll take more months for you to get to a different point, but you’re doing it and that’s what matters. You’re not letting grief beat you, you’re
beating it.”
I stare at him for one second, two, three, and then I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach. “You sound like a drug coach or an AA advisor or something.” I laugh so hard tears fall from my eyes.
Ryder begins to laugh too. “Oh, shit, you’re right.” We both dissolve into a fit of laughter. I bury my face in my hands, trying to stifle the sound. “I really need to work on my speeches,” he chortles.