by Grea Warner
“No. We’ve been done a long time now. What are you talking about?” Ryan’s voice was incredulous. “We’re divorced.”
Those words made me peek inside. Sure enough, a few feet or so away was Ryan and his ex-wife. I would not have recognized Kari Thompson had I not heard the words coming from their mouths or been at the house. She was beautiful. There was no denying that. But she didn’t look like the images that I, and most of the world, had seen—the polished platinum-blonde short bob, chiseled cheekbones, long lashes, and designer clothes. No. In contrast, her hair was more of a bland blonde, longer, and slightly unkempt. She had little makeup on and wore an oversized white sweatshirt and jeans.
“What did we talk about Easter night?” I refocused on Ryan’s voice. “What was that whole conversation about? Setting up a time to announce the divorce. We are not a couple. You said you were happy. I’m happy. The—"
“So glad you’re happy with little miss songstress. I can’t believe you had the gall to message my people about her stuff—like I wouldn’t put it together. I don’t want her crap. I’m not going to sing anything she wrote.”
That was news to me. I didn’t know Ryan was shopping my songs to Kari’s team. But, regardless, from what Ryan had told me about their amicable relationship, I didn’t think she would come down so hard on my music or even us. I had been a firsthand witness to the Easter conversation, after all.
“Stop it, Kari. What’s wrong with you?” His voice escalated even further. “Geez, I’m glad the kids aren’t here.” It was then when Ryan noticed me. “Bethany ...” He walked to the door and held out his hand.
But I didn’t take it. It was weird enough emotionally being in the situation I was in. But to physically be in the middle of the three of us? It was terribly awkward, despite knowing I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“Uh, well, perfect timing. See?” Kari seemed downright spiteful as she scowled her eyes at me—not at all the woman I had been told she was.
“I’m sorry,” I immediately apologized, still caught a little off guard. “I didn’t realize you would be here.” And I silently cursed Ryan for not giving me a heads-up that Kari was coming a day early.
“What kind of bitch moves in on someone else’s man when she’s down?”
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Ryan took a half-step toward Kari as his eyes seemingly grew bigger. “She ... What is wrong with you? What are you talking about ‘down?’ And I’m not your anything."
“I’ll let you talk.” I met Ryan’s eyes more than his ex-wife’s. “This is between the two of you.”
“No. That’s all right.” He touched my hand before seething at his ex. “Kari ...” If I thought the whole situation was awkward for me, I couldn’t even imagine what Ryan was feeling.
“What?”
I decided to be the bigger person. “I’m glad you’re home. The kids will—”
“My kids,” she emphasized, not letting me finish.
I left out a full chest of air I hadn’t even realized I had been holding in. Ryan was worth fighting for, especially since I knew he was fighting for me. But, for sure, I knew at that moment my presence was not helping. Sticking around was only going to set up a scene like one on Jerry Springer.
I couldn’t escape completely, though, because of the obvious transportation dilemma. So, I hastily made a temporary escape plan. “I’ll be ... upstairs.” I decided on my destination.
I heard Kari hmmmf as I readjusted my tote bag on my shoulder and started toward the staircase. I wondered if her reaction was just a sense of superiority or if it was because, without realizing it, I had chosen to retreat to the room they had once shared. I could have gone to the back yard or a remote part of the house, but I hadn’t. Maybe I was claiming my own stake.
Once in the room, I shut the door, placed my quilted bag on the floor, and flung myself onto the bed. Their quite vocal conversation became muffled, and a part of me wanted to spy and hear the rest. After all, I had an invested interest. But the other part of me knew to respect their privacy as exes and as parents.
It wasn’t much later when I heard the door shut and a car start. A little wash of relief flowed through my body. I was glad she was gone. I had been nervous about meeting her when I knew it was an inevitable situation—not only because she was a singer I admired, but mostly because she was Ryan’s ex-wife ... someone he, admittedly, had loved. But I thought I was going to have time to prepare myself. And I most certainly never expected such a tumultuous first scene.
Ryan entered the master bedroom with a most impressive exhale. “I’m sorry.” His weary, worn-looking eyes found mine as I looked up at him.
“Did you know she was coming today?”
“No. Not at all. She was here when I pulled up ... just a few minutes before you.”
“She left, right?”
“Yeah. Thank goodness. She had no right saying anything she did.”
I stood up to meet him then. I wanted to hold him. After hearing his commitment to us via his words, I wanted him to know I felt the same. I wrapped my arms around his torso, rested my head on his chest, and breathed in the light scent of his favorite cologne. His semi-relaxed sigh told me he appreciated the gesture.
“I never imagined her to be like that,” I admitted after a minute or two. “In the media, she always comes across so wholesome ... so mannered ... so pure. I guess everything ... everyone is fake or make-believe out here.”
I felt Ryan’s body tighten. I hadn’t meant it in reference to him and our circumstances. But I guess, in a way, it fit.
“She was over the top. And we—our marriage—didn’t last ... and it wasn’t nice at the end. But it was never like that. Maybe it was jet lag or something. She just flew in today, after all. That’s why she was coming for the kids tomorrow.”
“Did she say why she came today?” I pulled slightly away so we could look at each other more succinctly.
“No. She just wanted to see the kids. Bethany, I would have let her, but I’m telling you, she wasn’t herself. What she was saying about her and I?” He cocked one eyebrow up as if he had heard the most ridiculous thing. “And then, especially when she went off on you ... I made her stick to the agreement. She has to come back tomorrow to get them. She needs some sleep and to de-stress from the extended tour.”
“Ryan?” I asked but didn’t wait. “I think I better leave tomorrow or at least not make my presence known when she comes to get them. I don’t want anything to upset the kids when they see their mom after so long.”
“You don’t have to.” I know he was going to stop with that, but then he continued his response with objectivity, “You have a very kind heart, Bethany Lenay Opala.”
“Well, you might not think so after what I say next.”
“What?”
“I don’t want her to have any of my songs.”
There was the slightest of sighs before he said, “I understand. A couple of them would actually be perfect for her. I debated. But I would have never sent them if I didn’t think she was on board with everything.”
“You’ll find someone else.”
“I will. I promise.”
“And you take your promises seriously.” It was the first time I did a semi-smile since arriving.
“I do,” he agreed, surely catching my reference.
I kissed him while resecuring my hands around his muscular back. “Mmmm.” I rested my head on the softness of his ribbed, powder-blue pullover.
“It feels so good to have you in my arms. I hated not being able to even touch you at the cemetery.”
“Daddy! Daddy, we’re home!” Sallie’s voice vibrated from the foyer that only moments before had been filled with such drama.
“Man, I’m glad they weren’t here when Kari was, but Rebecca still could have driven a little slower getting back.” He spoke of the neighbor he sometimes shared daycare carpooling duties with. “I wanted some more alone time with you.” He looked out his front bedroom window, gave a wave to
his neighbor, and then said to me, “All right. We got all night.”
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to game night.”
“Right hand yellow, left foot blue.”
My lips rubbed together with air before I said, “Twister?”
“A classic.”
“Ha! My father would have a fit.”
“Why?”
“That, young man”—I deepened my voice in a pretend strict dad voice—“is a sex game.”
“It’s a what?” His belly rolled in amusement.
“Yep. We weren’t allowed to play it growing up. Forbidden,” I tacked on at the end, dramatically but truthfully.
“Hmmm ...” Those deep blue eyes of his took on a mischievous, sexy gleam. “Maybe we’ll save that game until right before bedtime. I think I am going to look at it completely differently now.”
I smiled and poked him. “I’m so gonna win.”
“Game on, Twister virgin.”
***
“Perfect,” I answered the phone.
“Yeah? Perfect what?” he replied.
It was Thursday ... four days since I had seen him. And even though we talked on the phone, it wasn’t the same. Especially after that past weekend when, because the kids were at Kari’s, Ryan and I got to spend some true alone time together. It was like we were a real, albeit reclusive, couple.
“Timing. Willow just left to turn in one of her final school projects, and I was painting my toenails.”
“Everything good with you two then?”
“Yeah. I told you, she knows something’s up, but she’s respecting my privacy.” Although, I knew it wasn’t going to stop my friend from trying to examine every one of my comments every which way. “I was thinking of doing some writing using one of our theme starters.”
“Good. I want to have a follow-up if—when—there’s interest in what I just sent.”
Not wanting to get too hopeful or even slightly confident, I changed the subject. “What are you doing?”
“Besides talking with you, homework, and then we’re gonna make brownies.”
“So domestic, Mr. Thompson.” I appreciated that he didn’t shy away from the kitchen. It, for sure, wasn’t a passion of his as it was for me, but he tried things for the kids and always helped me when I was food-creating.
“The Rice Krispies were okay. But you’ve never tasted brownies as good as the Thompson trios.” On the end of his proclamation, I could hear the kids chanting their pride.
I laughed and made my request. “Can I have a couple?”
“Of course. I’ll save you some.” And then he added what I had hoped my question would lead to. “When am I going to see you next?”
“Up to you. I know your schedule is getting even crazier.”
“Yeah.” His sigh was quite audible. As the show neared closer to the live airdates, he was getting jammed with more and more things to do.
“Did you get anything clarified with Kari?”
“No.” There was that sigh again. “She is gonna have the kids again this weekend while I go on that stupid show retreat. Maybe she’ll be more apt to talk after that. She has been either combative or dismissive.”
“Sorry,” I replied to both the retreat and Kari facts.
“I’m sorry because going away means I am not gonna have a chance to talk to or see you. Monday, though. Does Monday work?”
“The day of the live premiere?” Monday was the last day I thought he would suggest.
“Yeah. I don’t have to be there until late afternoon.” He had already decided not to go into his office on Mondays and Tuesdays because doing the live shows those afternoons and evenings would just be too much. “I’d say Sunday night once I get back from the retreat bull, but I’m already gonna be getting the kids settled and ready for school again.”
“I’m working Sunday night, anyway. What are you doing with the kids for the premiere?” I asked, knowing he had been undecided before.
“They’re going,” he said with a partial grunt. “They conned me into it. They think it’s going to be fun. Kingston and Rebecca are bringing their kids and will watch Joel and Sallie, too. I told you I would get you a seat.”
“No. I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I reiterated my previous decision to Ryan. I didn’t think it would look good, even though we had a legitimate working relationship. “Besides, I have that consolation-prize pass for one live show.”
“They didn’t give it as a consolation prize.” I could hear the grumble in his words.
“What else would you call ‘You’re not good enough for the first round, but come and see the ones who are at a later date’? No, thanks.”
“Okay, I see your point. I didn’t mean it as a consolation prize.”
“I know,” I replied much softer.
“When did kindergarten get so hard, by the way? When did kids even have homework in kindergarten? Ugh.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his classic dad statement. “You got this.”
“So, are we good for Monday? Can you make it work?”
“I’m gonna call right now and ask for a shift change, okay?”
“Perfect. Good night, Lenay.” I swear I could see the smile on his face, although we weren’t on any type of video chat.
“Good night, Ryan.”
***
Even though I missed spending any of the weekend with Ryan, it was a great couple of days doing other things. After work on Saturday, I joined some of the ladies from the apartment building in the upstairs lounge. Every other Saturday, a few of them organized a movie and craft night. Willow called it the lonely-hearts club and never went. I hadn’t attended in a while and didn’t regularly, but it felt good to wear sweats and make a spring wreath—the perfect optimistic object to cheer up my door.
Since I didn’t have to work on Sunday, I got to spend some quality time video chatting with my family. It was still early in California, but timing the call to Carolina on a Sunday had to be done with precision. The magical window was after they arrived home from church but before they all split to do their individual things. For my mom, that meant cooking the traditional big Sunday dinner. My dad would be going over any information he received during the service and categorizing his week. Fifteen-year-old Garrett, for sure, would be involved in something tech-related. And Ella should be studying but would mix in some basketball in the driveway, too. I still knew them spot-on, despite living so far away. It was a good thing, but it also made me miss them possibly even more.
When Ryan greeted me at his house on Monday, I was set to tell him about the lyrics I had written the night before. But instead, my mouth gaped open and I said, “Oh, geez, the beard.”
Both of Ryan’s eyebrows went up as he repeated one of my original sassy comments to him. “Kept tugging at it.” It had been just over a week since I had seen him, and while he didn’t have a full beard, it was definitely beyond scruff and more than I had seen him with since our first meeting at his office.
Still standing in his foyer, I shook my head. “Hmmm.”
“You are gonna kiss me, right? Tell me because I will go and take a kitchen knife to it if I have to.”
His comment changed my stunned demeanor to laughter, partially because I think he was serious. “Save the culinary cutlery,” I offered. “I was just taking in the new landscape.”
I reached out my right hand, touched his cheek, and then tipped up just a tad to meet my lips with his. I had never kissed someone with facial hair. It was different but not as gristly as I imagined. And it was actually me that time who let out a desired groan.
On that action and sound, Ryan tugged me tight into his body and kissed me with more precision—the way we were used to. He then pulled me away and gave me the look that asked for my verdict. I didn’t raise a number card or send him away. I just smiled.
No words were needed as our bodies instantly knew what the other’s wanted. We didn’t even make it up the stairs. We found the family room, instead,
and repeatedly twisted and turned in unison in a much naughtier way than when we had played Twister in that same room.
***
“Dang, Lenay.” Sitting in his car, Ryan looked over at me in the middle of Los Angeles traffic. “I don’t know if this makes me sound like a caveman or what, but I needed today just exactly as it was. Sor—"
I smiled at his sexy thoughts, recalling our morning tryst. “You don’t hear me complaining, do you?”
Between him dealing with Kari and nerves about the show, and me, yes, trying to fight off jealousy of his ex, I knew we both needed that incredibly sexy morning. Being with Ryan was so much different than any encounter with men I had in the past. Feeling cherished and free and safe, I trusted my body to his and realized the difference between those words that are often used interchangeably—sex and making love.
When he had said he would drop me off at the coffee house since it was on the way to the studio, I hadn’t argued. Admittedly, I wanted to spend every last second with him I could, especially since his schedule was ramped up and we were still a couple incognito. I couldn’t wait for things to get settled with the live premiere and for Kari’s team to figure out when to make the “shocking” announcement.
I looked at his hands on the steering wheel. His wedding band glistened in the sun. I appreciated that he took it off when at home and that I didn’t see it too often. Because even though I knew it was a very false symbol, it still made me feel a little dirty.
I purposefully shook my head, trying to erase that thought from our otherwise beautiful morning. “Not sure about the beard, though,” I offered, only half-joking.
“Me, either. I actually prefer not,” he admitted. “I never had one until ...” He paused, glanced over at me, and then said, “I never had one until things started falling apart, and then it was, honestly, because I got depressed and lazy.”
“‘Under the Bridge’?”
He nodded, but really no words were needed. We both had our low points. But being in his car with him that sunny afternoon most certainly was not one of them.