It was so easy to fool myself into thinking I wasn’t into Ryan Hardy w
hen he wasn’t stood in front of me, looking deliciously drop-dead gorgeous in black ripped skinny jeans, a tight black T-shirt, and a red and black checked shirt hung casually over the top. It was easy not to get caught up in him when he wasn’t looking right at me, with his hair falling into his eyes like it always did. I wondered what it’d be like to brush it out of the way and run my fingers through it. Would it feel as soft as it looked? And those eyes? Don’t get me started on his eyes. I must’ve been daydreaming about what running my fingers through Ryan’s hair and getting lost in his green eyes would lead to, because I didn’t see my mother until it was too late.
“Who are you?” she snapped sharply, looking at Ryan like he was a slug that was invading her perfectly manicured lawn.
“This is Ryan, Mum. He was a friend of Danny’s. He’s just stopped by to see how we’re all coping after, well… You know.”
I’d jumped in before Ryan could answer and make things worse. I was already expecting a mini meltdown from my neurotic 2.0 version of my mother after the morning we’d had. Dad had left without saying goodbye to her, apparently. Which had then resulted in an hour long rant aimed at me and all my failings. Because that was the reason my dad had snuck out at the crack of dawn and headed off to Westminster for another five days of work. I was everything that was wrong in her world.
It did the trick though. As soon as she heard me mention Danny’s name she visibly softened and looked at Ryan in a whole new light.
“Ryan?” she said, making it sound more like a question than a statement. “Danny never mentioned you. Mind you, he was pretty private about his personal life in those last few months, wasn’t he, Em?”
She’d reverted to calling me Em. She only ever did that when she was in company, trying to make it look like we were close.
“I think Danny had a lot of things going on that we didn’t know about, Mum.” She scowled at the inflection in my voice when I said her name, then like the seasoned pro she was, she righted herself and gave Ryan the glowing million dollar smile she’d perfected over the years.
“Ryan, would you like to come in for a cold drink? It’s awfully hot today.”
It was twenty degrees and breezy. A nice day for the U.K., but it wasn’t the bloody tropics like she was making out. She obviously wanted an excuse to grill Ryan on all things Danny. I can’t say I blamed her though. I’d never asked Ryan about Danny myself. Maybe I should’ve. Thing was, I felt nervous talking about him to strangers. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to hold it all together. Danny was a sensitive subject for me. I missed him every second of every day, and I found blocking it all out was the best coping mechanism. Not great in the long term, but it worked for now.
Mum beckoned Ryan forward, and he grinned back at her.
“I’d love a cold drink, Mrs Winters. Thanks.”
She nodded and sauntered off towards the open patio doors. Ryan glanced across at me and raised his eyebrow.
“Should I be worried?” he asked.
“Nope. As much as I love my mum, she’s about as self-absorbed as a bag of Pampers. As long as you keep talking about Danny, she’ll never see through your bullshit.”
He threw his head back and laughed. God, I loved it when he did that.
I led Ryan into our house, just as Mum was putting a tray of drinks down onto the coffee table. Most people would’ve handed out cans or at least asked what drink their guests wanted. Not my mum. She’d loaded up the tray with cut glass tumblers full of Coke with ice, like we were school kids. Oh, and a plate of cookies just to finish off the shitty tea party theme. I shouldn’t moan. At least she was trying to be civil.
Ryan sat down on the sofa, man-spreading as he did, and making me feel all hot and bothered again, despite the air-conditioning my mother had cranked up to full effect. I think she was going through the change. Perhaps that was why she was more cranky than usual.
She handed a glass to Ryan and then told him to help himself to the cookies. The way she sat forward, I could tell she was itching for information. Any titbit that Ryan could throw her way about Danny.
“How long were you and Danny friends?” She’d started with the basics.
Ryan chewed the last bit of his chocolate chip cookie and glanced at me before he spoke.
“I knew Danny all through high school, but we became best mates in the last few years. He was a good guy. The best.”
Mum nodded and smiled. She actually turned into a human whenever Danny was the topic of conversation, which wasn’t that often in our house these days. I missed that about my mum. I missed the softer side that she showed us when we were younger. She hadn’t always been the uptight trophy wife she was today. I don’t know what’d happened to change things, but she did used to take us to the park and play ball, teach us how to bake muffins and sit playing board games with us, pretending not to notice when we cheated. I don’t know why it all went to shit, but it did.
“Tell me some stories about him. I want to know what he was like when he wasn’t at home with us.” Mum sipped the tea in her china cup and then placed it carefully back on the saucer. She never used mugs for her hot drinks. She thought herself too well-bred for that.
Ryan rubbed his chin and then sat back on the sofa. “Danny was a cool guy. He made us laugh.”
Mum smiled and shook her head. “I can only imagine what he got up to behind my back.” Fondness clouded her eyes and I could tell any story she heard about him, no matter how gross or cringe-worthy, would’ve only made her love him more.
“One time, we bubble wrapped Mr. Manderson’s whole classroom; chair, desk, computer, the lot. We even did his car too. It was all Danny’s idea. Took Manderson hours to cut it all off.”
“Oh my God, did you get caught?” Mum gasped, and I raised my eyebrows at her. If I’d told that story she’d have grounded me for the summer and banned my hellraising friends from coming near the house.
“No.” Ryan smiled. “The balloons we filled his store cupboard with were the straw that broke the camel’s back though. How were we to know he had a fear of balloons? He was traumatised for days.”