by Jessica Marx
“Hello, Eve,” he says.
“Hey Ken. What brings you in so early today?”
“Just decided to get my weekend started early. I don’t have a drink yet,” he hints at me.
“No one helped you?” I ask.
“Nah, just got here a few minutes ago,” he says, “and you’re the only one who knows how I like my drink.”
“It’s a beer, Ken. it’s pretty easy to make,” I tease him.
“Yes. But you know how I like it,” he says with a smile.
I laugh. “You’re crazy. Maybe you aught to introduce a little variety into your life,” I reply, filling a chilled glass from the tap.
“Nah. Not my thing,” he replies. “Still waiting for one special lady to notice me.”
“Well, I hope she does. You’re sweet, and you deserve a good woman.” I know he’s talking about me, but there is no way I’m getting into that conversation with him—or that situation. Fraternizing with customers is a big no-no. Not that I would. He might be a nice guy, but Ken isn’t my type.
I continue to help the other patrons, and as early evening approaches, the crowd thickens and the music gets louder. I talk to Ken intermittently while he eats dinner at the bar and I serve some others. I notice Ryan’s face by the entrance and I light up. I didn't think he would be coming in, and I’m so happy he’s here. He’s flanked by Adam and another guy who I don’t think I’ve ever met. They walk over to the bar and push their way to the counter.
“Hey, barkeep,” Ryan yells with a smile.
“Seriously?” I reply, walking over. It’s busy, and as much as I’d like to, I don’t have much time to chat.
“Just wanted your attention.” Ryan smiles, and for a moment, I melt.
“You got it. Now, what can I do you for?”
“Just three beers, please,” he replies.
“Sure,” I answer, reaching into the cooler.
“We’re only staying for one drink. We’re going to a bar on the east side that we used to hang at, but I wanted to stop in before we went out.”
I smile at him. “Well, isn’t that sweet.” I notice a couple looking at me to refill their drinks.
“You’re busy. I’ll see you later,” Ryan says, taking the beers and walking back to his friends.
I help the customers that are giving me the evil eye and then the constant rush of others trying to celebrate the beginning of the weekend. I glance at Ryan and see him and his friends just talking together near a bar table. I’m happy there are no girls around them—not yet, anyway. I’m sure Ryan will want one last fling before he leaves.
Ken looks like he’s finished his dinner and is draining what’s left of his beer, so I walk over to check in.
“How was your dinner?” I ask.
“It was all right. I see your movie star friend is still here,” he says with a hint of jealousy.
“Yes. Celebrating the last of his days in New York as a ‘nobody,’ ” I reply, sneaking a glance at Ryan. He is still just with the boys, and it looks like they are finishing their drinks.
“Too bad,” Ken says, wistfully. “I’m sure he will be missed.”
“Yes, I’m sure he will.” I’ve never seen this side of Ken.
“Well, I’m going home. It’s been a pleasure as always, Miss Eve,” Ken says with a smile.
“Goodnight. Enjoy your weekend.”
Ken walks towards the door and Ryan and his friends approach the bar.
“Okay, lady, we’re out,” Ryan announces.
I smile and nod. “Have fun. Thanks for stopping in.”
“We will. Sorry you were so busy, but I guess that’s a good thing,” he says. I nod again and wave to his friends. They say goodnight and leave the bar.
Having Ryan stop in just to see me for a short time uplifts my mood and the rest of my night flies by. I happily help the customers I have until last call, and then clean up. When I go outside to walk home, I notice the snow has stopped and there is just a light dusting on the ground that I’m sure will be gone by morning.
I walk into my warm building and up the many flights of stairs to my apartment. I don’t hear any noise on the other side of the door, so I assume Ryan’s friends didn’t come back here, and I’m relieved. I’m beat, and wouldn’t mind climbing into bed.
I close the door behind me, and I’m bothered when I see Ryan’s door is open and the apartment is empty. I know there are places that will stay open after hours, but I also don’t think that’s necessarily where they are. I’m disheartened thinking that Ryan found a girl to go home with for the night and hope that’s just my inner jealousy talking. He’s not really that kind of guy, but it wouldn’t be completely out of the question, either.
I get ready for bed, and even as the sun comes up, Ryan still isn’t home.
15
I wake up to the sound of the front door opening and Ryan coming in. I look at the clock and it’s after eleven already, so I slowly sit up and stretch. Apparently, I slept like a baby all night. I must have needed that. I get out of bed, put on a sweatshirt, and walk into the living room as Ryan flings himself onto the couch.
“Rough night?” I ask.
“You could say that,” Ryan answers. “There were a lot of beers involved. I think I’ve consumed more alcohol in the last week than I have in the last year.”
“Sounds like fun,” I reply drily. “Did you sleep somewhere last night, or were you out this whole time?” I’m a little afraid that he might tell me he was with a woman. I don't know if I’ll be able to hide my disappointment. I’m silently hoping he was out all night, or at one of his friend’s, sleeping.
“We went to some afterhours club, and it was already morning when we went back outside, so we decided to have breakfast,” Ryan explains.
“So, what now? Are you going to sleep?”
“Definitely. I need to get a nap. I have to get some packing done when I get up. Will you be here? Are we still hanging later sis?” Ryan asks, getting cozy on couch.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” I say with a smile.
I make myself some coffee and get dressed so I can leave and let Ryan sleep. He’s already out like a light, so it’s not like I have to be quiet, but there’s not too much to do here. At least I can go pick up some food for myself, or something. I can also get some munchies for later when we are home packing. I put on my coat and leave the apartment to make myself busy for a while.
It’s freezing out again, and they are predicting snow again later. We may even have some accumulation. I don’t have any place to go later, or tomorrow, for that matter, so a little snow on the ground would be nice.
I go into the supermarket to grab some food and decide I should cook dinner, since I don’t have much else to do today. I’m not a good cook, but I can make something simple, and I’m sure Ryan will appreciate it. I choose some items and check out. It doesn't take terribly long, but I don’t have much else to do, so I bring the groceries home.
Ryan is still snoozing, so I put everything away and get prepped as quietly as I can. I’m making a simple chicken and pasta dish, but the apartment already smells amazing. It hasn’t had the aroma of a fresh-cooked meal since my mom was here.
I put the chicken on the stove to braise and prepare some garlic bread. I put a pot of water on the stove that I will turn on when Ryan is awake. I remember the bottle of champagne I had bought in anticipation of Ryan getting this part. It will be perfect for tonight. I won’t have any need for it after he leaves, anyway.
I take a shower and watch some television. I see it’s starting to snow outside and I’m getting restless. I decide to make some noise to “accidentally” wake Ryan, so I go back into the kitchen and bang a few things around. Ryan begins to stir on the couch, and then slowly sits up.
“What’s that smell?” he asks.
“And good morning to you, too,” I reply.
“Shit. What time is it?”
“Just after four,” I tell him. “And that smell
is dinner.”
He rubs his eyes. “Damn, it’s late already. Where did you order from?”
I puff out my chest proudly. “I didn’t order, I made it.”
“You made it?” Ryan asks incredulously. “I feel honored.”
“You should. Are you hungry yet, or do you need some time to wake up?”
“I’m pretty hungry. I could use a shower, though. Can you wait a few?”
“Of course. I still have to make a couple of things, anyway, so take your time.”
Ryan walks to the bathroom and I turn the burner on for the water to boil. I spread some butter and mashed garlic on a nice loaf of Italian bread I bought at the market and put it in the oven. I look at the table and think it would be a nice touch to set it and make it look pretty.
I take out two real plates and salad bowls instead of the regular paper products and take out tins we’re used to. I want Ryan to have a nice memory of me and our time here—I think this will be perfect. I look down at myself and suddenly wish I was wearing something nicer than leggings and a flannel, but it would feel strange to dress any different for dinner at home.
The bathroom door opens and Ryan walks out in a towel. This is the second time in two days he’s done this. Maybe he knows it’s making me feel awkward and getting a kick out of it. More likely, though, he just has no clue and doesn’t care anymore since he knows he’s leaving.
He smiles at me and walks into his bedroom to dress. I’m thankful for the champagne. I don’t know if Ryan is going to want to drink again, but I sure need some help relaxing.
“So, what’s on the menu?” Ryan asks, entering the kitchen.
“Salad, pan roasted chicken with rosemary, pasta, and garlic bread.”
“And you set the table? Damn, girl. You really know how to make a guy feel special. Who knew?”
“I have many hidden talents,” I reply, taking a bow.
“This may be the first time I’ve seen you cook. I hope it tastes as good as it smells.”
“Me too,” I laugh. “But first, a toast.” I open the fridge and take the bottle of champagne from the back. I expertly pop the cork and fill the two glasses I had taken out earlier. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” Ryan replies, clinking my glass. “Thank you for doing all of this. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to seduce me—or poison me, but I’m pretty sure you’re not trying to kill me. If you haven’t by now, I think I’m okay.”
“Ryan. I didn’t mean…”
“Oh, please, Eve. I’m only messing with you,” Ryan laughs. “I know you’re not looking to get in my pants, and I hope you’re not trying to kill me.”
I’m relieved. I’ve been so caught up in my new feelings for Ryan that I think he might be on to me. He’s kind of intuitive for a man, so he must have some idea, but I don’t want him to think I’ve planned a night of romance for the two of us.
“Good. I don’t want you to think anything like that. I just wanted to give you something to remember me by,” I explain nervously. “I wanted to buy you something, but I couldn’t find anything that I liked. Nothing felt right.”
“I don’t need anything, Eve. Not even this dinner, although I’m really happy you went through all this trouble for me. It means a lot.” Ryan smiles at me. “We’ve made so many memories together already. That’s all I need.”
An awkward silence lingers between us and we each take a sip of champagne. Mine is more like a giant gulp and I finish off the glass and pour another.
“So, how about we eat so we can get to packing?” I suggest, breaking the silence.
“Sounds good. Let’s eat,” Ryan says.
We sit down to one of the most formal meals we’ve eaten here, and it actually tastes good. The snow falling outside our small window is a nice touch. We make some conversation and talk about what he and his crazy friends did last night. He lets me know his plans and what AGR did to set him up when he gets to California. It sounds like he’s getting the star treatment already, and I’m so happy for him.
Ryan and I finish our meal and together clean the table and wash all the dishes. I pour us each another glass of champagne. We’re not drunk, but it’s definitely helping to keep the edge off my nerves.
“So, are you ready to get to packing?” I ask.
“I don’t have much to bring, but I guess I should get whatever I’m taking together,” Ryan replies without any enthusiasm.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited?”
“Of course I am.” He sighs. “It’s just so crazy, and everything is happening so fast. We barely just moved in here, and now I’m moving out. And I’m going to be across the country without you, without anybody.” He trails off and averts his eyes.
“We definitely know a few people out there,” I assure him. “Plus you’re going to be so busy filming you won’t have time to think about it.”
“I guess. It’s just like what they say, ‘be careful what you wish for.’ It’s so amazing but scary at the same time,” he confesses.
“I’m sure you will be fine after a few days. You’re going to be in Hollywood. Hollywood Ryan. This is a dream come true.”
“Yeah. It is,” Ryan agrees. He smiles, but I can see there is some sadness behind it. “Well, then, let’s do this.”
We go into Ryan’s room. He has some boxes and two suitcases ready to be packed. He is going to leave the little bit of furniture here with me. He doesn’t need it anyway— they are setting him up with a furnished place for one year. Ryan may or may not be there that long, but it’s part of his contract.
“Where should we start?” I ask. I don’t mind helping, of course, but I also don’t want to rifle through his things.
“Why don’t I empty the drawers and you put things in the boxes or suitcases?” he suggests.
I nod. “Sounds like a plan.”
I sit on his bed with a box and Ryan begins to go through his small closet. We fill one box with its contents and some of a suitcase. He moves next to his dresser and do the same. We are in a good rhythm and music is playing, keeping us upbeat and moving. We’re also enjoying the last of the champagne from dinner. The dresser is done quickly and we move to the contents on top and around the room. There are some things that need to be wrapped, which we do and place those in the next box.
Ryan goes to his nightstand and pulls open one drawer. He puts most of the items in a box. He shows me a couple of his keepsakes that he has in there—photo albums and some trinkets in an old cigar box. He opens the other drawer and does the same. He smiles and stands up next to me as he pulls out a picture frame.
“Do you remember this?” he asks, showing me the photo.
A broad smile crosses my face as I lean in to look. “Of course I do. It’s from the summer after we met.”
The photo is of me with Ryan’s arm around my shoulder, sitting at a table on a rooftop restaurant overlooking the city. We were with several of our friends and cast mates celebrating a successful run of a small, little known production we performed in. It was terrible, and not many people came to see it, but we were so proud.
“I can’t believe you kept this,” I say, still staring at it.
“I’ve always kept it in my drawer. I would have left it on top, but I thought you might think I was a creep if you saw it. It was one of the best nights I ever had,” Ryan confesses.
“Yeah. It was a fun time—the whole show was. What made it the best?” I ask.
“It’s the night I fell in love with you,” Ryan says plainly, his glassy blue eyes looking into mine.
I laugh nervously. “Shut up.” Not the best reaction, but what is he talking about?
“I love you, Eve. I always have.”
“Like a sister…” I say quietly, trying to finish his sentence.
“No. Not like that,” he replies, looking me dead in the eye. “I know you never felt the same. I know there’s the whole stepbrother stepsister thing… But… I can’t help it.” He jolts off the bed a
moment later, running a hand through his hair.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper.
“I hoped that one day you would come around, but I don’t think you’ll ever see me as anything more than a stepbrother. Now that I’m leaving, I may never get the chance again to tell you how I feel so… fuck it.”
I am dumbfounded. I had no idea. None. Everyone around us knew, he knew—I just didn’t see it.
Tears begin to stream down my cheeks. I feel like such a fool. Now he is leaving and it will be so long before we have a chance to explore our feelings—if ever. By trying to play it safe, I lost any chance we had.
“Don’t cry, Eve,” Ryan says, taking my hand and smiling gently. “I will always be there for you. I just want you in my life, even if this is as far as things go.”
“It’s not that,” I start, searching for the right words. “Since we’ve been here, it’s just… different. I’ve been having these feelings… I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to fuck things up. Now I feel like that’s exactly what I did.”
“No,” Ryan says, waiting for me to look at him again. “No. You didn’t, Eve. Everything is perfect.”
“Perfect?” I say, staring at him. “How can you even say that? You’re leaving,” I finish, starting to cry once more.
Ryan smiles at me again. He leans over and reaches his hand up to my face, softly wiping the tears from my cheek. He does the same with the other cheek then gently holds my face as he leans in. Ryan places his soft lips on mine and kisses me. He is delicate at first, slowly using his warm tongue to part my lips and then gently caressing my tongue with his. I start to kiss Ryan back, once the initial shock of what is happening begins to wear off.
Our tongues are entwined and moving in rhythm together. His lips press harder into mine and our kiss becomes deeper and harder. The intensity between us grows, and I reach up to Ryan’s face, trying to pull him closer into me. The passion we felt when we kissed before doesn’t compare to what is flowing between us right now. Ryan slowly pulls his face away, gently biting my lip as he does.