by Leah Atwood
“You.”
I gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Me? How do you figure that? Are you still mad at me for braiding your hair when you were napping during the youth group movie?” I’d never seen Ryan’s hair so long, and I’d been unable to resist the temptation. Of course, it gave me the opportunity to touch his hair when he was sleeping. And, yes, it might have made me seem somewhat like a stalker, but that was neither here nor there.
Shaking his head, he ran his hand through his hair, a sure sign of his continued aggravation with me. He took another step closer to me, but I stood my ground. “Answer a question for me, Ellie.” Ryan had a glint in his eyes I’d never seen before.
What was on his mind? I swallowed hard and moistened my lips with my tongue. “Shoot.”
“You ever been kissed? By a guy?” He glanced into the distance and then back at me. “You know, romantically?”
“No, not that it’s any of your business.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” About this time, my pulse took flight, curling up into the sky like the smoke from the chimney next door. I could barely breathe, and it’s as though the air between us crackled with electricity. Crazy, yes, but true.
“Where’s this coming from, Ryan?” With the setting sun in the background, a blazing ball of orange-red glory, I dared to meet Ryan’s blue-eyed gaze. He moved another inch closer. Unless I was out of my mind, his expression revealed that he cared about me as more than a friend. His features softened, and he appeared less angry.
“I want to be the first guy to kiss you, Ellie.”
“Is that an order?” That question was not uttered in a sarcastic tone, it should be noted.
“Pretty much,” he said, his voice tinged with a huskiness I’d never heard before. “Not that I’d ever try to tell you what to do.”
“Sure you would.”
“Nah. They’re only suggestions.” He reached for me and pulled me to him, planting his hands on my waist. I thought I might be ticklish, but oddly enough, I wasn’t.
“I shouldn’t ask this, but have you ever kissed a girl?” Maybe it wasn’t a fair question, but I had a burning need to know.
“No,” he murmured. “Carli wanted to, though.”
I cringed. “I didn’t need to know that.”
“Then you shouldn’t ask.”
“So, this is the first kiss for both of us?” I could hardly believe it, but Ryan wouldn’t lie to me about something so important.
“Yep.”
“But you went to dances, a couple of proms…”
Ryan cupped my face between his hands in a gentle but firm hold. “Look at me, Eleanor.”
“Don’t call me Eleanor and maybe I will.”
He blew out a sigh of exasperation. “Work with me here, please. I could have kissed a few girls by now if I wanted. But I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you?” I searched his face, barely able to comprehend such a thing. How was that possible? I splayed the fingers of my right hand on Ryan’s chest. In spite of my racing pulse, I managed to sound somewhat calm. “If we do this, you realize it’s either going to be the start of something or we’ll know we’re destined to be friends forever and nothing more.”
“Good grief. I’m not asking you to marry me, Sass.” He made an indefinable sound of frustration and seemed at a loss. “You don’t have to be so clinical about it. Let’s do this. Just kiss me, okay?”
“You’re bossy.” By this time, I was more than ready. I wasn’t nervous, only curious what it’d be like to kiss him. Not just any boy. Ryan Joseph Sullivan.
“I want to be your first kiss,” he said. “And I want you to be mine.”
“This isn’t a stupid idea to see if we’re compatible or an experi—?”
“For once in your life, please be quiet, woman.”
He called me woman. Huh.
I raised my chin and slipped my hands around his neck. I had no idea what I was doing but figured we’d fumble our way through it together.
“I didn’t kiss any other girls, Ellie, because they’re not you.”
He’d done it now. He’d stunned me speechless. Wow.
Ryan’s eyes sparkled and he lowered his head. And then his mouth, warm and tender, covered mine. His hands tightened on my waist, and he drew me closer.
For a first kiss—and considering I had nothing with which to compare it—I’d have to say it was…spectacular. Absolutely.
Kissing Ryan felt like coming home.
Chapter 19
~~♥~~
Wednesday Late Afternoon
I escaped to my office at Perchance to Dream after my visit with Cora. If I’d gone home, I’d sit and dwell on things. I’d have to go home at some point tonight, but for now, the office offered comfort and solace. I could continue my end-of-the-project reports for the year. If I felt even more ambitious, I could do some advance planning for the next year. Keeping my mind busy was the most important thing.
A few of the volunteers came in to clean out their desks. They hadn’t said anything about Ryan, so I assumed they didn’t know…yet. If they had known, they’d probably avoid eye contact. A couple of the workers waved and said they’d see me at the wedding. I pasted on a smile and mumbled a generic response.
Seeing the others pack up their desks reminded me that I needed to call the rental company to pick up the furniture and computer equipment before the end of the year. Then I needed to remind Nick he’d be in charge of making sure it was done since Ryan and I would be basking in the Hawaiian sun.
I retrieved my cell phone and clicked on the list of contacts. Ten minutes later, I’d taken care of that task and left a voice mail for Nick. I was relieved when he didn’t answer. For once, I wasn’t up to conversation. I hadn’t even called Mom yet, but I’d need to call her and my sisters.
A knock sounded on my office door. After the last volunteer left, I’d closed it. I never closed that door, and now I wasn’t sure I wanted to open it.
I could only pray it wasn’t a reporter looking for a story about the poor bride who hadn’t a clue whether or not she’d have a wedding in five days. Whether or not she had a groom. Whether or not she’d be helping his parents to plan his funeral.
No! I could not think that way.
I’d already had a couple of phone calls from the local news media. Vultures.
I had to be positive. Ryan will be fine.
A second knock sounded on the door, slightly louder than the first.
“Who is it?” I blew out a breath and braced myself.
The door opened. Mom.
“Hi, honey. I thought you might want some company. Mary Sullivan called me a short time ago.”
“Mom!” I rose from the desk and ran to her. Throwing my arms around her neck, I cried. Oh, how I cried. Like my heart was breaking. Like I hadn’t cried with my mother since we lost Dad. She was there then. She was here now.
“Here, sweetie.” Mom pushed a wad of tissues into my hand. “When you’re ready, dry those tears and let’s talk. Take your time.” She held me close as I clung to her and cried on her shoulder.
“O…o…kay,” I said a minute later. I gulped and then inhaled a huge breath.
Mom guided me by the arm to the two chairs. I dropped into one, still wiping my eyes, and she sat in the other, scooting it closer to mine. At least the flow of my tears had finally begun to ebb. She waited patiently and held my hand.
“Ellie, do you know what your father used to say about Ryan?”
I dabbed beneath my eyes and looked at her with wide eyes. Shaking my head, I gave her a confused look. “You mean what he said to you…or to me?”
“To me.”
“If Dad said it, it probably had something to do with the Cavaliers.” I half-laughed, half-sobbed.
The corners of Mom’s mouth upturned. For the first time, I noticed the newer lines in the corners of her eyes. Not deep lines, but lines caused by the passage of time. She used to smile a lot, but not as much in recent years.
Maybe Dr. Bernard would help bring back her lovely smile. That would be nice.
“It was about a week after Ryan broke his leg, and you’d called for the ambulance,” Mom said. “Your dad watched you from the front window one day as you walked down the street to the Sullivan house. He said, ‘Ellie feels something special for that boy. And I think Ryan feels the same way. Mark my words, Janet, those two are going to end up together one day.’”
“Really?” I shook my head. “I had no idea. Why didn’t Dad ever tell me?” Her words gave me comfort. I liked to believe that my father knew I was marrying Ryan.
“Because you were so young when he died. You might not know it, but Ryan has always had a sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you, honey. For as long as I can remember. Your father saw it even before I did. He was always so attuned to you.”
I wiped my eyes. “Did you know Ryan dropped a frog down my shirt when I was five?”
“I heard a little something about that.”
“Staci?”
Mom shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”
I twisted a few of the tissues between my fingers. “I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d say I couldn’t play with Ryan anymore.” I glanced up at her. “I didn’t want to risk that happening. As much as he irritated me sometimes, I liked him. Even if I told him I didn’t. Ryan makes me laugh, he’s smart, and he challenges me.”
“You turned down a lot of dates with other boys.”
I nodded. It was true. Brandon Harrison wasn’t the only one who’d asked. “I did. Why go out with someone else when I’d already found the best?”
Tears shone in Mom’s eyes. “I felt the same way about your father.”
“Mom,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I’ve decided I want to stay on schedule with the wedding plans. Until we know otherwise, I have to operate on the assumption that Ryan will be found safe. I realize it’ll be cutting the time short even if they find him in the next day or so, but maybe we can push back the time of the wedding by a few hours. If Ryan’s up to it, that is, and—”
“I understand.” Mom squeezed my hand. “You know, in my Bible reading this morning, I came across a very familiar verse. I think it’s appropriate to what’s happening in your life right now.”
“Which verse is that?”
“Jeremiah 29:11: ‘For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.’”
“That’s always a verse I’ve associated with good things,” I said.
“Yes, that’s when we see the verse most often, but it applies every bit as much to your future. Ellie, do you remember how Mark Sullivan and the boys used to come help around the house on Saturdays after your father died?”
“Yes.” I had to wonder why she’d brought that up now.
“Sweetie, I didn’t need half of those things done,” Mom said. “Did you notice how I usually sent Mark and Nick on their way after a couple of hours?”
Wow. I hadn’t noticed. “You did that so Ryan would stay longer?” That must be why she also asked me to constantly take him tools, a glass of water or iced tea, a recipe for his mother—anything.
Mom lifted her shoulders with a small smile. “A mother does what she can to encourage a friendship between her daughter and the boy down the street she hopes she’ll marry one day.”
“Oh, Mom.” I rose out of the chair and tugged Mom to her feet. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” She hugged me and then pulled back. “I guess what I want to tell you is that you’ll be okay. You’re smart, you’re brave, you’re strong, and you’re better for having Ryan in your life. I’ve prayed for you two since the time I saw him kiss you in the backyard when you were raking leaves.”
I felt my cheeks warm. “You knew about that, too?” I slid a hand to my hip. “Kara?”
She shook her head.
“I know, I know. It doesn’t matter,” I said. “You always were diplomatic in these issues.”
“God will take care of you.” Mom put a gentle hand on the side of my face, and I leaned into it. “Just as He’s watching over Ryan. He knows, and He has everything under control. Remember that.”
I sniffled. “I’m trying my best.”
“It’s times like this when I wish your dad were here. You two shared such a close bond, and he always had a way with words.”
“Oh, Mom, I never meant to exclude you.” A tear rolled down my cheek. “You’re here now, and that’s what I need most of all.”
“I love you, Ellie. You’re going to make a beautiful bride in a few days. Now, I have an idea.”
“Thanks. I love you, too. What’s that?” I sniffled and dabbed at my eyes. I appreciated her positivity and her gentle smile.
“We still have that small artificial tree you’ve always loved. The one that used to sit in the corner of the kitchen. We can decorate it with the white lights and the Murano glass ornaments from Italy that my parents gave us. You haven’t put up a Christmas tree in the house yet, have you?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t thought much about decorating for Christmas other than to hang a wreath on the door and string up a few lights. I’ve been focused on getting everything else ready. And I didn’t want to get a real tree since we’d be gone, and it could be a fire hazard.”
“Then this is what we’ll do,” Mom said. “Let’s go get the tree and go back to your house. I can cook us a nice dinner and then we can decorate the tree together. Sing some Christmas carols. Have some quality mother-daughter time.”
“I’d like that.” I checked my watch. “We’re having a time of prayer at the Sullivan’s house tonight. Starts at seven. Come with me.”
“That sounds like one of the best things we can do.” I heard the catch in Mom’s throat.
“Will you stay with me tonight, Mom? I’d love your company. We can save decorating the tree for when we get home if we’re not too tired. If we are, we can do it in the morning.”
“I’d love nothing better. Let’s get your coat, lock up, and go.”
When we stepped outside the office, I looked up and down the street, surprised that I didn’t see Mom’s car. “You didn’t drive?”
“No. I thought we’d walk.”
Mom linked her arm through mine.
In many ways, I knew Dad was right beside us.
Chapter 20
~~♥~~
Wednesday Evening—The Sullivan Home
Both Pastor Derek and Pastor Jon arrived early to share a private time of prayer with the family.
“I think the best verse to meditate on is Romans 8:28,” Pastor Derek said. “‘And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.’”
Since my sisters lived on the other side of Cleveland, I’d told them not to worry about coming. They’d both offered and told me they’d be praying, and that alone meant so much.
Maura gave me a hug and whispered assurances and then sat beside Nick, holding his hand. The sight of the two of them together warmed my heart. Nick seemed especially quiet, and I ached for him.
Mary, the perennial hostess, flitted about the living room with her serving tray overflowing with finger foods and cookies as if this were a social occasion. I couldn’t fault her. Being a proper hostess was what she knew how to do best, and it served to keep her thoughts from dwelling on the fact that her second son—her baby—was now classified as missing in action.
MIA. Ryan was classified as something with the worst three initials possible. Strike that. POW was equally bad. However, DOA would be the worst. I shuddered at that morbid thought. I couldn’t allow my mind to go to such dark places.
So many people attended the prayer circle that it was standing room only in the Sullivan’s living room. Someone proposed walking down to the church, but that idea was outvoted. A few misguided souls called it a vigil. Oh, how I detested that word. When I heard it, I bit my lip
and turned away. These people were good enough to come, and I loved them for their faithfulness to Ryan and his family.
Once we began the time of prayer, the only time we paused was when the home phone rang. For some reason, I figured that was the number the Army would call. I snapped my gaze to Mary’s, and she motioned for me, Mom, Mark, and Nick to follow. Mary encouraged Kim Higgins to continue praying as we all hurried into the kitchen.
False alarm. The call was from a sales rep trying to sell them Cavaliers season tickets for next year. Go figure. Wishful thinking aside, could the call be a sign from the Lord that Ryan and his team were safe? With a collective sigh, we returned to the living room.
An hour later, I closed the time of prayer. Maybe it was more that I was the last one to speak. Surprisingly, my voice didn’t waver, although inside I quaked something fierce. I’ve never minded praying out loud, but my nerves seemed precariously close to snapping.
Going through the motions as the others departed, I murmured my thanks. In an odd sort of impromptu receiving line, I exchanged hugs and shook hands with members of the church and community. If asked, I wouldn’t have been able to recall one thing I’d said.
Mary and Mark moved into the kitchen to clean up. I offered to help, but Mom told me she’d help them. She insisted I stay in the living room and talk with Nick, and Maura had already departed. Maybe I should just go home, but I couldn’t leave just yet.
In the back of my mind, being in Ryan’s house somehow kept me more closely connected to him. The presence of Ryan’s family—their warmth and their love—gave me comfort. If it didn’t seem inappropriate, I might have asked to curl up in Ryan’s bed. Then I remembered that Mom was staying at the house with me tonight. Most likely, I’d wrap myself in one of Ryan’s shirts, one that might still carry his scent.
“Ryan defended me at school when I was eight,” I said to Nick as we sat across from one another in the living room—me on the sofa and Nick in the recliner. After that random observation, I rubbed a hand across my brow. My head hurt from emotional overload.