"I've got cola and ginger ale,” she offered, forcing a smile.
"Cola."
Knowing her son's preferences, she got down one of her nicest glasses, filled it with ice, then brought the glass and can to the table. Before sitting down, she put the kettle on.
Ryan came in from the car with the final load—the computer.
"Did you want this in the office?” he asked, and she knew he referred to the small downstairs room that Mark had set up as such, and that Lily had left the desk and chair in.
"Yes, please. Kettle's on. I'll call you when it's ready."
"Thanks, hon."
Lily shot a worried look at John. But he hadn't noticed the endearment, had in fact totally ignored Ryan, concentrating instead on pouring his drink.
"Poverty pop", he commented, setting the can aside. The term differentiated generic soft drinks from the brand-named products.
"You can't afford the real thing, but you go out and blow a fortune on yourself. Dad told me you made a mistake, moving all the way out here. From what I can see, you did."
"Excuse me? Your father said ... what?"
"He worried you'd be here and no one could keep an eye on you, and I guess he knew what he was talking about."
Your father wasn't so concerned that he didn't stab me in the back during the divorce, Lily thought darkly. Instead, she said, “I'm sure you misunderstood. Your father has better things to do with his time than concern himself with me."
"The thing is, he's right. This is no place for you. Stuck out here in the boonies, no life to speak of. Well, I know you've never really had much of a life anyway, but still. Even you must get bored out of your mind way out here. You need to sell this place. I've been browsing on the Web. There are housing developments going up all around here. How big is the property? I bet you could net a cool couple of million out of a sale."
"I don't want to sell, John. I'm happy here."
"Yeah, it's all about you, isn't it? Always has been, just like Grandmother always says. You never gave a shit about us, Alice and me, just went about doing whatever the hell you wanted. Then you walked out on us and left us with Dad. Well, see, the thing is I need you to start doing your part here. Next year's tuition is due soon, and Dad's making noises that he wants me to move out of the house. Like, sure, I can do that if he wants to get me a place—a nice apartment in just the right area would be great. But no, he doesn't want to do that. He actually had the nerve to suggest I get a job. I can't work and study at the same time. But if you sold this place, then with my share of the money, I could manage just fine. Maybe even take a nice vacation. I've never had one of my own, you know."
The headache had advanced, and Lily sat back as the pounding took up a rhythm all on its own. Anger, hard to control, bubbled like lava through her veins. She put all her effort into choosing just the right words.
"I didn't ‘walk out’ on you and your sister, John. Your father asked for a divorce and ordered me to leave. You make it sound as if you and Alice are in grade school, instead of grad school."
"Whatever."
John didn't take correction well, never had. He'd just given Lily his version of events, and she knew from experience he would never be persuaded his version was wrong. The root of the problem never changed. John wasn't getting what he considered his ‘fair share.’ A tiny voice pulled big chunks of guilt out from hidden corners in her conscience. She had never worked outside the home, so she had never pulled down a paycheck, nor had she personally ever paid a penny toward his or his sister's education.
"I could probably manage to help you out with some money toward your tuition. If you're stuck for a place to live and have nowhere to go, well of course you could move in here. But I'm not selling my home, John."
"You can't possibly like living out here. It's barren!"
"I do like living out here. I've always loved it here.” Lily understood the bottom line with her son, she always had. Reaching for her purse, she pulled out her checkbook.
"Will a hundred do for now?"
The look on his face told her he was insulted. The kettle chose that moment to break into a full whistling boil, and Lily got up and made the tea.
"A hundred? Give me a break. That just won't cut it, Mom. I have expenses. I need some new clothes. Hell, I shouldn't have to live like this."
"Well, I guess I could let you have five hundred right now,” she said slowly. “If you need more for tuition, I'll have to make arrangements, and that will take time. So you'll have to let me know."
Lily had no doubt John would take the money, and in such a way as to make it seem a favor to her. She did know her son. Twenty-three years old, and she seriously doubted he would ever grow up. She understood, deep inside, the headache she currently suffered stemmed from being with the young man sitting across the table from her. The guilt of that knowledge increased the pounding.
"Well, it's better than nothing, I suppose. But you're going to have to do something, Mom. You're going to have to sell this place and contribute your fair share for a change. Dad's done it all by himself, all these years. It's time for you to step up to the plate."
* * * *
Ryan stayed put for a long moment after the back door slammed and her son started the Honda and left. It had taken more will than he could have imagined to not go marching into the kitchen and smack that little prick in the mouth. The computer had been unpacked, the components connected and plugged in. All that remained was to turn it on and show Lily how to use it. He should probably just stay there for a bit longer and let his temper simmer down.
Fuck that. Tossing the user's guide for the PC onto the desk, he headed for the kitchen.
Lily sat, elbows on the table, head in her hands. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, battling with himself. One half of him wanted to scream at her for taking the bullshit she'd just been served, the other half yearned to gather her close and soothe the hurt he knew she felt.
It took her a moment to realize he'd come into the room. When she finally looked up at him, he wanted to cringe at the battered expression she wore.
"Oh. Ryan. The tea. I'm sorry, I'll just—"
"Sit, babe, I'll get it."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
After pouring two cups of the beverage, Ryan set the mugs on the table, along with the sugar and cream. Then he sat down opposite her. He didn't say anything. He'd never been so pissed off, but he had to remember that he really didn't have the right to make judgments, or say anything negative about Lily's family.
"He's not a bad kid. He's just been under a lot of stress lately. His schooling, and the divorce.” Lily's words sounded tired, and Ryan felt the steel of his resolve begin to melt. “The only thing is, I know he's going to call Mother and complain to her about how selfish I'm being. Which means she's either going to phone, or come out here, too. And that's one thing, right now, that I don't need. I'm going to have to have a look at my finances and see what I can swing for him and Alice. He's right. I need to assume my share of the expense for their educations."
Ryan's none-of-my-business-not-going-to-open-my-mouth policy shattered.
"He's a little piece of shit who needs his ass kicked from here into the next county for talking to you like he did."
"Ryan!"
"I'm sorry, babe. But somebody has to tell you the truth. He's what? Twenty-one? Twenty-two?"
"He's going to be twenty-four next month, but—"
"Fuck, at his age I'd already worked myself half way around the world. ‘You're going to have to contribute your fair share for a change.’ What bullshit. What complete and utter bullshit. Somebody needs to tell that punk the world doesn't revolve around him. You don't owe him a damn thing, Lily. Not anymore. He has to learn to make his own way, just like everybody else. It's way passed time he grew up."
"That's not fair. You don't understand. He's my son. Of course I have responsibilities toward him! Parenting isn't a job that ends when your kids turn
twenty-one. It's a life-long commitment. I will admit he spoke a tad disrespectfully toward me just now. But he's a very sensitive young man. He's obviously worried about his future. If his father has cut off his spending money, or asked him to move out, it's only understandable—"
"He's your son, and your responsibility is to help him become a mature, self supporting, contributing member of society. Not to enable him to shirk responsibility and get a free ride in life. You think you're helping him out? Hell, Lily, you're crippling him!"
"You don't know anything about being a parent. How dare you say that to me!"
"I know about being a human being. I know about being a man. And I know that your son is a selfish, narcissistic little monster. It's easier to give in than to stand your ground, isn't it? Life is much easier if you avoid all those nasty confrontations. He wants you to be his mommy without allowing you to be his mother, and you do nothing to stop him."
"No one talks to me like that in my own house. Get out! Get out right now!"
"No one but relatives, apparently. I don't need to put up with this bullshit. I'm out of here."
* * * *
For the second time in a half hour, the kitchen door slammed. The last time, Lily felt relief. This time, she felt her heart breaking. It didn't matter that Ryan's words echoed her own guilty thoughts. The roar of a Harley screaming down the driveway seemed the last upset that she could bear. Lily's emotions felt ready to explode. Her head pounded, and the echo in her conscience that agreed with everything Ryan had just said butted up against her instincts to protect her child from attack. On top of everything she'd experienced these last few days, Ryan's condemnation of her really proved to be the last straw.
Laying her head down on the table, she surrendered as she rarely had in her life, as the sobs ravaged her.
Chapter 7
He owed her an apology.
That idea first whispered to him before his Harley had cleared her driveway. It had been easy to ignore the truth when it just muttered in the back of his mind. But now, several hours later, with the sun having set and the stars come out, that whisper became a roar.
He'd been angry on her behalf, so what, he turns around and beats up on her, too? He'd wanted to punch that kid in the nose, not bloody his mother's. He'd known the instant he'd stepped into that kitchen Lily was hurting.
He'd never believed in kicking people when they were down, and felt like the lowest kind of slug because he'd done just that to Lily. Which put him, he thought sourly, on the same level as her son.
What she said to him had been absolutely true. He had no experience being a parent. He'd lost his mother at the age of eleven, so he had no idea how she would have treated him as a teen or young man. But his father had always been on his side, no matter what. When Ryan had eschewed getting a steady job after university and yearned to travel the world, living his rebel-without-a-clue ideal, his dad had told him to go ahead and follow his dream. Then, travel-weary and a bit wiser, he'd returned home, only to be welcomed back with open arms. He'd been gone nearly a decade. Years when he should have been at home, helping his aging father with the farm. Years spent focusing on himself and ignoring—or neglecting—the man who had sired him.
So, he may not have ever lipped off the way John had today, but he'd been no sterling example of filial devotion, himself.
Ryan exhaled heavily as he looked across the field to Lily's place. He'd lied to himself. He'd convinced himself that her family relationships weren't any of his business. But he cared about her far more than he'd admitted to himself. They had more going for them than just sex. He didn't know what the future held for their relationship. But he'd asked her to trust him with her body, no holds barred. He'd shown her things today, painted a picture of a path that, if taken, would leave her more open and vulnerable than she'd ever been in her life. That was a hell of a lot to ask of a woman as inexperienced as Lily.
In return, he could at least stand with her. He didn't like the way her son had spoken to her, but she needed to be able to trust he wouldn't jump on the bandwagon of ‘beating up on Lily.'
"Fuck.” Straightening from his slouching position on the porch, Ryan could only hope that his apology wouldn't come too late.
The sudden flash of light in Lily's yard caught his attention. He watched as those lights made their way down her lane, turned toward him. When they slowed at the head of his own driveway, he held his breath.
As Lily's car crept down his driveway, he took the steps off his porch and went to meet her.
* * * *
She turned off the car, but didn't know what to do next. Her headlights had shown him waiting for her, but she simply couldn't move.
She'd spent the afternoon in tears, and reflection. Everything Ryan said echoed her deepest feelings. She'd envied him his freedom to speak those feelings even as she lashed out at him for it. Those emotions, the ones she'd never voiced, lived deep within her, wrapped in guilt. She'd had enough of the guilt. She hated the way her children treated her. John walked all over her, and Alice—well, Alice pretty much ignored her. Hell, she hated the way her mother treated her. But she didn't know how to make it all stop. The training, the inclinations, went way down, deep.
She hoped she could mend the hole she'd torn today in her relationship with the one person who had so quickly come to mean so very much to her.
Ryan strolled toward her, but instead of opening her door, he put his hands on the car, leaning toward the open window. She didn't know if that meant he didn't want her to get out of the car, or not. That he might damn near broke her heart. Still, she had to tell him what she'd decided to tell him. With only the sound of crickets disturbing the silence, her gaze rested on her hands as she searched for the right words.
"I'm sorry,” she ventured quietly. “I'm sorry I lost my temper with you. That I told you to leave. Everything,” she stopped for a moment when her breathing hitched, when tears coated her voice. Inhaling deeply, she forced back the lump taking over her throat and continued on. “Everything you said was right. More than right. It's what I've been thinking, feeling, for years. I am a coward. Far too cowardly to—"
Lily jumped when he yanked the door open.
He lifted her out and into his arms before she could draw another breath.
"No, babe. I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't have the right to say those things to you. I don't know what it's like to be a parent, but I know it's a job that never ends."
The breath from his apology brushed her hair, warming the skin of her neck and shoulder even as it warmed her chilled and battered heart.
"I want you to have the right to tell me anything and everything."
"There's that word again."
Lily knew tears weakened her laugh. When Ryan had hauled her into his arms, she began to cry.
She pulled back just enough that she could look into his eyes and cup his face in her hands.
"The way you saw me today, it's the way I've always been. They get that tone—every single member of my family can put on that tone—and something inside me shrivels. My thoughts may be slapping them back, but only my thoughts. And then I feel so guilty for even that much."
"You shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to be treated with respect, Lily. Everyone deserves to be treated with respect."
"I know that. In my head.” She returned to the haven of Ryan's embrace. His arms enfolding her gave her the most comforting, the most secure feeling she had ever known.
"Please don't hate me because I'm a wimp. Don't turn away from me. I ... I need you. And I want you."
"I could never hate you. And I've wanted you far too long to turn away from you now."
Lily felt the pressure of his hand on her head and lifted her mouth to his. His taste, already so familiar to her, soothed. Each time his mouth mated with hers felt as new and exciting as the first time. The void that had ripped open in her when she thought she'd lost him flooded with need, hot piercing need that fired her blood and sparked her senses. Su
rrendering completely to him, she wound her arms around his neck and climbed him. When her legs encircled his waist, when she felt the denim-covered ridge of his engorged penis push against the folds of her pussy, she melted.
"You didn't put on any panties."
"No,” she said and then, “Hurry!” when she felt his hand brush her mound and knew the movements meant he was freeing his cock from his pants.
"Hang on to me. Just let me protect..."
"Ryan!"
His words sounded strained and she wondered if he'd ever get that condom on. Finally, Lily sighed mightily as Ryan pushed his flesh into her. Then she just held on, the exquisite thrusting of his cock in and out of her, the most delicious feeling she'd ever known. He cursed, but Lily didn't mind, for she knew that the fever burning hotly inside her raged in him as well.
Her groans turned to pleas, and then a scream of completion as the orgasm rippled and bubbled, erupting from the exact place where his pubic hair rubbed her clitoris, a pyroclastic flow of climax to every one of her nerve endings.
"Let me drive you back home, Lily. Let me stay the night."
"Yes."
* * * *
As soon as she got out of the car, Ryan scooped her into his arms and began stripping her. Lily wanted to help, but his urgently whispered, “Let me,” stilled her hands and sped her heart. He stripped her quickly, setting her on her feet only long enough to whip off his own clothes.
"Hold your breath."
That was the only warning she got before he lifted her and stepped into the deep end of the pool. They sank quickly. Lily hung onto Ryan, and could feel when his legs hit the bottom and he pushed up powerfully. When they broke the surface, she sputtered and coughed, and laughed.
"Are you crazy?"
His laughter fed music into the night. “Certifiably."
Even as she shivered, he pulled her closer. “I had plans, things I wanted to do with you—to you. Those plans haven't changed. But if after the way I behaved this afternoon, you no longer trust me to—"
Lily in Bloom Page 5