“Wine. A couple bottles,” Carrie says while laughing.
I get settle back in my office and work the remainder of the day without a break. Focusing on the images in front of me, I play around with some different fonts and then jump when I hear a knock on my slightly opened door. Ryan comes in with his laptop bag over his shoulder, sunglasses up on top of his head and a small smile.
“What time is it?” I ask looking at him in surprise.
“It’s quarter after five, but your appointment is at six so I wanted to make sure we didn’t get stuck in traffic.”
“Oh, I could cancel it. I mean because I have more work and I don’t want this project to get behind and¾”
Ryan interrupts before I continue to ramble on. “No, the work is fine, this is more important. Plus I know deep down you want to go. Come on, love.” He hold his hand out to me, but I look down at my key board desperate to find more excuses as to why this should be postponed. I come up empty though. “Plus I have some cars I want to talk to you about.”
Gnawing at the inside of my cheek I get up slowly, drawing out every movement before walking out of my office, in hopes of some diversion. Ryan holds my hand and walks us to his car. In a way it’s almost as if he’s dragging me out, but he’s right; deep down I want to go. It’s time to move beyond some of this. I know from past experience that therapy does help.
Once in the car Ryan talks to me about a few different SUV’s that he thinks I’d like. He goes into details about the specifications and when I ask about price he ignores my question. Then he tells me that he also talked to the auto repair shop and told them to go ahead and fix up my Civic. This makes me happy and eases my nerves. Leaning across the middle console in Ryan’s car, I place a peck on his cheek and slip my hand back into his.
“Oh, Carrie said your parents are having us for dinner on Saturday. I told her we’d be there,” I tell him.
“I was thinking we’d skip out on it,” he says casually.
“No we need to go. Eventually they’ll get over this elopement, as they call it.” I snicker, knowing he’ll find the humor in it.
Shaking his head with a tight smile he asks, “Are you sure you’re up for it?”
I contemplate this before answering him. “Yes, of course. We have to try to move past this. It’s your family.”
We both smile and he squeezes my hand reassuringly. When we pull up to the office building, my smile quickly fades into a tight-lipped purse. As Ryan pulls into a parking spot close to the ramp to the doors of the building, I turn my head to stare out the passenger side window and contemplate what will come of this.
My sisters had been at college for at least a couple of months and I still barely left my bedroom. Today was the day though. I had promised I would go to therapy. Staring at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of my door, I smoothed my hands over my fully-clothed body. My jeans fit me just right, but now they seemed too tight and revealing. I decided to grab one of my oversized hoodies to cover me up more. I’ve never worn a lot of make-up, unlike Mya, and today I kept my skin bare except for moisturizer.
Slowly, I opened my bedroom door and walked downstairs. Just as I’m about to head into the kitchen, I stopped as I heard my parents talking. There was strain in my mom’s voice; I could hear it in her accent. I couldn’t tell if she was mad or just upset.
“Brian, you’re too absent in their lives,” I heard her tell my dad.
I stepped closer to the entrance of the kitchen, yet kept myself hidden. “I’m working, you know this. That’s why you’ve always stayed home.” I couldn’t be sure, but I think I heard irritation in my dad’s tone.
“This is different. Mikaela needs her parents right now. Something is wrong.” She paused and I could hear her running the water in the sink. She always used my full name when talking to Dad, but I preferred her to call me Mik. The water stopped and she continued. “She’s my baby and I’m so worried about her. This is too extreme for her.”
The chair my dad must have been sitting in screeched across the tile and his heavy footsteps walked. “She’s my baby too,” he snapped. “Quit being so dramatic, Cecilia. This is Mikaela … she’s different. She’s always been more disconnected.”
Pulling me out of my memory, my car door opens with Ryan holding his hand out to me. I swallow down the hurt I feel remembering how distant and cold Dad had sounded. It was only the beginning of several conversations I overheard between them.
My mom was right though, I did feel better after going to therapy and talking to someone. It didn’t happen during that first visit, but over time. I reach out my hand and place it gently into Ryan’s, instead of pulling me up he bends down and kisses the top of my hand. The reds and blues that had begun to infiltrate my space gradually fall to the side. A bit of orange and yellow slip inside and warmth covers me as I gaze at the sincerity in Ryan’s face. His smile speaks volumes about the person he is and how he feels about me. It catches me every time, letting me know that he’s here, at my side for better or worse.
“You ready?” he asks.
“Yes … I am,” I say as confidently as I can.
We walk into the building hand in hand, and once we get into the office Ryan let’s my hand go and stands to the side. I walk up to the window to check myself in.
“Hi, Mrs. Chambers. How are you?” The same receptionist that I’ve seen the other times greets me.
“Good, thanks.”
“Go ahead and take a seat. Dr. Harrington will be with you in just a few.” I turn and around sit next to Ryan. Unable to stop my knee from bouncing up and down I realize that this therapy session is different. It’s different because I have Ryan here and my goals are not like the other times. This time I need to find a way to tell Ryan everything that has happened. I need to tell him more than I’ve ever told my mom or therapist back home. That’s a lot to take in and I can’t be sure how I’ll feel afterward.
A few short silent minutes pass and then Dr. Harrington’s voice fills the air; “Mikaela,” she calls to me with the back door held open. I nod my head to her and then look to Ryan.
His hands move to my shoulders and rub them, and then he kisses my lips. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.” I nod my head to him and try to keep the tears I feel pooling in my eyes at bay. “Mik,” he clears his throat and then continues, “I’m proud of you.”
I can’t respond so when his hands release my shoulders I get up and enter into Dr. Harrington’s office, ready to face the past.
TRUE TO HIS WORD, RYAN is there waiting for me after the session, and the next two during the week after work. He doesn’t pry or beg for information, but always asks if I want to talk or share anything with him. I can see he’s ready to hear something, but I’m not quite there yet. Even Dr. Harrington has urged me to wait until next week for our first session together as a couple. We both try to go about as if everything is the same, but it’s not. There is a bit of tension pulling at us.
As we drive home our Friday session, I rub at my temples in the car, feeling an ache coming on. It’s draining spilling your guts about things that are not pleasant. One thing I feel better about is that I’ve talked to Dr. Harrington about my father’s upcoming wedding. She helped me to realize that I do want to go. I need to connect with my sisters again and rebuild a relationship with my dad. It’s important to me. Tonight I’ll respond to my sisters and even my dad to tell him I’ll be there. First though, I need to ask Ryan.
“Ryan?” I can tell I’m interrupting him from some deep thought as he grips the steering wheel with both hands.
“Yeah?” This is Ryan stressed or mad. I can’t be sure yet. When he’s a little too short in his replies, I know something is off for him too.
I contemplate asking him about the wedding, but decide that I should wait until he’s a little more clear-headed. “Never mind.”
Silence fills the car as we continue our drive and then Ryan says, “I’m going out with Randy tonight, okay?”
Staring ahead I can’t help but feel a sting in my chest. He always invites me to go out with him, but this time there’s no invitation for me. Even though it hurts, I think it’s best if we both get a little alone time. “Sure, of course.”
Shortly after we get home, Ryan leaves with a curt peck to my cheek as I sit out on the sandy beach in front of our house. My laptop rests on the table on our patio, but before I get to it I need to feel the warm sand in between my toes.
As I sit and think about everything I’ve discussed with Dr. Harrington this week, I wish I had my mom right now. Her death was so sudden. She never got to see me really take a better grasp on my life. I think she’d be proud of my strides, but she’d be sad that her girls have not talked to each other. I know too that she would want us there at Dad’s wedding. Marisa and Mya can’t possible understand why Mom would want us there though. Marisa says we should go only because she always tries to do the right thing and Mya is too angry.
The sun starts to set and tonight it’s one of those where the sky turns orange and yellow. It’s perfect. Beautiful.
Once I get up to the patio, I open my laptop and check my work emails first. Then I check my personal to see if Marisa or Mya have replied again. My fingers hesitate and then I precisely click on the reply button.
To: Mya Washington; Marisa Washington
From: Mikaela Washington
FWD: RE: RE: Wedding
Hi Marisa and Mya,
I agree we should go to the wedding. I want us all there together. It’s important to me and I know it would have been important to Mom. Please come Mya. There is so much I need to tell you both. I know time has put distance between us, but I want to help make things right.
Love,
Mikaela
Without any more hesitation I click send and sigh in relief once it’s gone. That was hard to write, but it’s from my heart. I just hope that they can feel how much I want to fix this. Satisfied with this small accomplishment, I go in for the night. Instead of making dinner I opt for crackers, cheese and wine while catching up on True Blood.
***
“I told Carrie we would bring some wine tonight. I’ll run out and pick some up,” I tell Ryan as he works on his computer in the spare room.
“Okay, thanks.” His tone is light and airy, but still his response is short. He came home last night and woke me from the couch. No words were spoken, but he carried me up to our bed kissing me, hugging me and holding me close to him all night. He stops typing and then turns to me, “Mik?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you grab a bottle of bourbon? A good one.” I crinkle my nose in response and he chuckles. “What, my dad likes it and I think I may need it to deal with all of my family.”
Laughing, I tell him, “Sure.” It feels good to have the mood a little lighter between us. I know that there is something bothering Ryan and even though I assume it is because of me, I get the feeling that there is more to it. It may be due to work or could be the stress of getting together with his family. More than anything I want tonight to change things, make it easier on all of us and find a way for Ryan’s parents to accept me as their daughter-in-law.
The rest of the day Ryan works and I clean the house up. While I am out, I pick up ingredients to make an appetizer. I make a roasted cauliflower and white cheddar dip with garlic-rubbed crostini. Hopefully, this is fancy enough for Ryan’s parents. Seems like it to me, but I never know with them. I often wonder how Ryan and Carrie turned out the way they did. Neither of them are formal or uptight about anything. Maybe that’s their way of rebelling.
After I slip into a black crepe lace dress that fits loosely, I knock on the spare bedroom door to see if Ryan’s ready. His chair whirls around and when his eyes land on me they raise in appreciation.
“Wow, you look great. Guess I should change, huh?” He pulls at his running shorts to emphasize his attire.
“Maybe,” I smile at him and start to back out of the doorway as he rises and approaches me.
“Wait,” he requests and then snakes his arm around my waist. “You smell good too, love,” he says as his nose inhales sharply while buried in my hair at my neck.
I kiss his neck, resisting the urge to lick him and then squeeze his behind. “Go get changed or we’ll be late.” Pulling back from him he grunts as he tries to hang onto me. “I’ll pack the car up,” I throw out over my shoulder as I approach the staircase.
We arrive just a few minutes past seven and this only adds to my nerves of spending time with his parents. The few times we’ve gotten together they always make a comment about punctuality.
“Shoot, we’re a little late,” I say as I reach down to grab my appetizer.
Ryan steps out of his side and walks over to open my door. “They’ll get over it. At least we came.” He reaches back and grabs the box with the wine and bourbon in it, doing little to hide his annoyance about coming here.
“Stop, you’re making me more nervous, Ry,” I whine as I straighten myself out and try to smooth the material of my dress.
“See, this right here. I hate that they make you feel like that. It’s bullshit. You’re perfect.” I heave in a deep breath, not liking Ryan’s tone. Then he moves in front of me, holding the box with one hand and uses his other hand to brush my hair off my face. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a rough couple days. I swear though, if they start up I’ll blow up on them.”
“Ry,” I mutter under my breath, not really sure what to say.
“Mik,” he mimics my tone and winks at me.
“What has you so stressed and … mad?” His eyes close for a minute and he grates his bottom lip between his teeth. “Is it me, because of the therapy and, and … not sharing everything?”
“No!” he practically shouts and then softens his tone when I jump back a little. “Maybe some of it, but no, it’s never you. I’m mean, I’m worried about you and what’s going on, but it’s nothing. Let’s just go and try to have a nice dinner, okay?”
“Are you sure?” I ask, looking for reassurance. An uneasy feeling settles in me causing my heart to drum harder, filling up my ears. I don’t like not knowing what’s eating at him. Maybe it’s karma for me not sharing everything with him. More now than ever I want to get past this thought and be able to share everything with him. It’s not a good feeling to have secrets with the one you love.
“Yes, come on.” He begins to lead the way up to the main entrance of the house. “Hey, at least we have plenty to drink to get us through this, right?” We both smirk at each other as Ryan opens the front door.
The foyer alone is grand with marble and etched designs in the woodwork. I almost have to laugh because it’s so distinctly opposite of the house I grew up in. Our house was nice and comfortable. Nothing formal about it. On the wall directly in front of us is a large canvas painting of the Chambers family― Ryan, Carrie and their parents. It’s massive and had to cost a fortune.
Ryan mumbles under his breath, “I hate that picture, it’s too big.” I nod my head in agreement. It’s a bit much and I don’t think I’d like seeing myself quite that large every time I walked into my house.
Nervously, I follow Ryan out of the foyer. His mood has me on edge more than normal. I can’t figure out what exactly has him so temperamental. As we approach the living room, we both turn our heads back toward the foyer when we hear the sharp sound of heels clicking against the cool stone.
“Ryan, is that you dear?” Mrs. Chambers voice bellows in the expanse of the large open space. “You two need to keep better track of time, you know.”
“We’re here, Mom, and if you are referring to the few minutes we are late then we could just leave.” My eyes bulge out as I stare at Ryan and his boldness.
“Nonsense, I’m just simply stating that it’s one thing you must not have realized you have in common. I mean with only knowing each other for some odd months and all.” Ryan’s whole body stiffens and I grab onto his arm, squeezing it hard to pull his a
ttention to me. Mrs. Chambers steps to Ryan and gives him a stiff hug, almost pushing me aside.
“Well, you got us there. Thanks for having us for dinner, Mrs. Chambers,” I say to try to soothe the tension coming from Ryan.
“Of course, dear, he’s my son.” Her possessive tone doesn’t go unnoticed.
After Ryan takes everything into the kitchen, I don’t really catch my breath until I sit in the living room with Carrie. I’m pleasantly surprised to see her sitting with an attractive guy. Carrie introduces me and wouldn’t you know, it’s Kirk. It’s probably pretty bad that I’m hoping Mrs. And Mr. Chambers will have someone else to pick on tonight.
I head into the kitchen to set up my appetizer and Ryan’s already pouring himself a bourbon and me a glass of wine. Gladly, I accept the wine. “You’ll need this, love.” I roll my eyes at him, trying to blow it all off.
“Mrs. Chambers, I made an appetizer for us. Could I heat it up for about ten minutes in the oven?” I ask and then take a swig of my wine while Ryan and I stare at each other waiting for some backlash.
“Oh that wasn’t necessary, but sure go ahead and squeeze it in right now.” I swear I see a vein on Ryan’s forehead pop out and I mouth to him ‘it’s fine’.
“No it wasn’t necessary, but sweet and thoughtful of her. Don’t you agree Mom?” Ryan baits her, but I already know she’ll brush it off.
She moves about the kitchen mumbling ‘mmm hmm’. After my dish is in the oven, Ryan grabs onto my hand and slips us out of the kitchen and back into the living room. We sit and talk to Carrie and Kirk. At one point, Carrie pulls Ryan to the side to talk to him and I assume it’s about their parents, but I can’t be sure. Ryan’s face looks stressed with lines forming across his forehead. The room is the size of four of my living rooms from home, maybe five, now that I get a better glance, so I can’t make out what they are saying. They seem to be arguing though. I flinch in my seat when Ryan takes a large gulp of his bourbon and walks out of the room.
Love Found in California (The Washington Triplets) Page 6