She nodded. “Dad made me leave it in my coat pocket.”
Kerrianne felt relieved, and she let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She glanced at Ryan and saw a longing on his face, as though he, too, wished he could play ball with his father.
Willard set down his tray. He pulled up a chair nearly as close to Kerrianne as Ryan was sitting. He turned his gaze on her face with an abruptness that startled her. “So,” he said, “where are you from?”
She saw her first impression had been wrong. He did resemble Ryan more than she thought, but the heaviness in his face hid the similarities. Still, he was a washed-out version—his gray eyes were not as dark, nor his hair, and his skin was pasty from lack of exposure to the sun. He made up for his physical lack in witty conversation. Before Kerrianne knew what was happening, Willard’s verbal gymnastics put all the adults as ease. Sterling entered the conversation, as did Elizabeth. The feeling in the air became more cordial.
Okay, so maybe his family isn’t all that bad, Kerrianne thought. She bet Willard was a good lawyer.
The boys were so busy eating that they were quiet for a change. Elizabeth seemed impressed with Misty and her delicate manners as she sipped her lemonade without spilling and daintily nibbled at her cookies. Several times Kerrianne caught Elizabeth shaking her head as Ria stuffed cookies into her mouth exactly like the boys.
“Such a sweet little girl,” Elizabeth said of Misty, who beamed at her praise.
The talk drifted to world events, where Kerrianne felt comfortable adding her opinion. This was similar to talk they’d have at her own parents’ table, and she’d read up enough to not feel stupid with her comments. Sterling seemed to purposely set up the conversation to make her look like a fool, but Kerrianne sidestepped him every time with facts her brother had written in the newspaper. Ryan’s grin grew wider with each attempt. When Willard and Sterling began talking business, she didn’t mind because she’d watched enough lawyer shows to be familiar with the jargon. She actually asked a question or two—when she was sure it sounded reasonably intelligent.
Ryan was the only one who remained quiet throughout the meal, and at times there was a wariness in his eyes that unnerved her, as though he waited for something unpleasant to happen.
Eventually, Sterling steered the conversation back to Kerrianne. “So where did you go to college?”
“BYU. Well, for a year at least.”
“Only one?” Sterling asked, his face unreadable.
The question surprised her. “What?” she asked, stalling for time.
“So you only attended one year of college.”
“More or less.” She felt nervous enough to offer an explanation, though it was really none of his business. “My husband and I got married, and he was working on his master’s, so I decided to work to help ends meet. Besides, we wanted to have children right away.” She didn’t add that the real reason she’d quit was because she hated school. She’d wanted to be a mother, to make a home for her husband and children, though Misty hadn’t come along for several years. By then Adam had a job as an assistant principal. After that, the boys had followed in two-year intervals. Quitting school was the one regret she didn’t have. If they’d waited to have children, and she had taken as long as she had to conceive Misty, she might have had nothing left of Adam with her now. The thought was unbearable.
“I see,” Sterling said. There was no inflection in the words, but Kerrianne saw him exchange a knowing look with Elizabeth and had the feeling she’d failed some sort of test.
“Ryan here went all the way,” Willard said. “He graduated in general education, though. Couldn’t decide what he wanted to do.”
“Oh, I knew what I wanted to do.” Ryan leaned back in his chair, eyes glittering and looking much like his father’s steely stare. “Just because it wasn’t what everyone else wanted . . .” He trailed off, almost a challenge.
“Boys,” Elizabeth said without strength.
Sterling’s brow furrowed. “Ria, let’s go toss the ball.” The way he said it was a dismissal—of them all, but mostly Kerrianne and Ryan.
Ria scrambled for her coat, which she had retrieved from the entryway and placed near her chair. She followed her grandfather out the glass door in the outer wall of the green room. The boys saw them going and followed in a wave.
“Coats first,” Kerrianne called.
They groaned, but all of them obeyed, even Tiger.
“Aren’t you going with them?” Elizabeth asked Misty.
“I’d rather not, if that’s okay.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Perfectly okay. Would you like another cookie?”
“Yes, please.” Misty took one from the proffered dish.
Once outside, the boys began a game of their own in the corner of the spacious yard. Kerrianne wasn’t surprised; she didn’t see Sterling as someone who could muster much patience for little boys. She wondered what kind of life Ryan and Willard had endured growing up.
“I guess you’ve heard by now that I’m a lawyer,” Willard said when the boys were gone, as though there had been no interruption or cause for concern.
“Ryan told me. But I would have guessed anyway by the fast way you talk.” Kerrianne hadn’t meant to say the last sentence aloud. “I mean,” she hurried to add, “that you have a way with words.”
Next to her Ryan grinned, making her stomach warm. She wasn’t fooling him. He knew Willard’s glib manner didn’t impress her.
“A lawyer like your father,” she babbled, trying to cover her physical response to Ryan’s grin. “I bet that takes a lot of schooling.”
Willard smiled. “You can say that again. It took years. But that’s nothing compared to the overtime I had to put in after I became a lawyer. Some weeks, I barely slept at home.”
His comment reminded Kerrianne of how Adam had decided to earn his doctorate, and how she had hadn’t been happy at the prospect of raising the children by herself while he lived evenings at the college campus. Strange how she hadn’t recalled that until now. She remembered resenting his assumption that she’d be supportive, as she’d always had been. Wouldn’t he have understood if she’d confided in him? He’d always listened to her and put their family first. Yet she doubted she would have ever told him of her concern. That wasn’t who she’d been back then. Neither would she have confessed how worried she’d been at the possibility of his outgrowing her altogether.
“I knew that sacrifice would bring success,” Willard continued. “Everyone knows that while education is the key, work is the vehicle. Of course, some have the key but choose to walk.” He smirked at Ryan.
“As you can tell, we take education and work seriously in this family,” Ryan said mockingly. He lounged in his seat, looking out between half-closed eyes, an amused expression on his face. But he was far from amused. Kerrianne didn’t know how she knew that, but she did. She was glad. He obviously didn’t like the tone of Willard’s comments, either.
“Even Mom graduated in English, didn’t you, Mom?” Willard’s tone was patronizing.
Elizabeth nodded. She looked uncertainly from each of her sons and then outside the glass windows where her husband tossed the ball with Ria. She didn’t speak.
Kerrianne felt an urge to tell them that her three siblings had graduated from college, that her mother had gone back for her degree after the children had left home, that her father held two degrees, and that Adam, if he’d lived, would have had his doctorate by now. Her family also placed a high value on education.
Yet none of that really mattered, and she refused to play whatever game they were playing. Her family would never use their education to inflate their own importance.
“So, are you married?” Kerrianne asked Willard, more to change the subject than for anything else.
There was a silence for the space of several heartbeats. “Willard is divorced,” Ryan said, sitting up. “Recently.”
“We’d been drifting apart for a long time.” Willa
rd’s bored voice dismissed his ex-wife as nothing of consequence.
“She was a good woman,” Ryan countered.
Willard bristled. “You don’t know what it was like.”
“I knew what it was like for her.” Ryan met his brother’s eyes as Elizabeth clenched her hands together on the table.
The drama was too much for Kerrianne. She was glad she’d come to see the green room because of the ideas it had given her for her own greenhouse, but she was not impressed by Ryan’s family. That was too bad because she’d really hoped to like them—and to have them like her.
“Excuse me,” she said, addressing Elizabeth. “Could I use your bathroom? It’s going to be a long drive home.” She wished she didn’t have to ask, but after three children, her bladder wasn’t what it had been.
“Yes, out the door and to your right.”
Kerrianne looked at Ryan. “We have to make sure the kids use the bathroom before we leave.”
“You want me to call them in now?”
Kerrianne was glad he’d understood the point of her comment—she’d like to leave as soon as possible. She glanced outside at the boys, squatting down and huddled together on the grass laughing, and her resolve softened. “They’ll be in soon,” she said. “It’s really cold out there. And Ria looks like she’s having too much fun.”
“We’ll let her have a few more minutes, then.”
Kerrianne escaped, glad to get away from Willard and Elizabeth . . . and even Ryan.
A few minutes later she returned, but the green room was deserted except for Misty who was standing by a tall plant and looking outside at Ria and the boys.
“They’re in the kitchen,” Misty informed her. “Cleaning up.”
The cart was gone, as was the silver tray. Only a few used glasses still littered the table. Kerrianne gathered them up and went to find the kitchen. “I’ll be right back, sweetie.”
Misty shrugged and turned again to watch the other children.
The house was even larger than it looked, and Kerrianne passed through several sitting rooms until she heard voices. Ryan’s came first.
“I don’t know why you guys can’t be a little more . . . nice.”
“We’ve been nice.” Elizabeth’s voice was still soft but had taken on an affronted edge. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“Oh, you’re nice on the surface, but . . . I just wish you could . . .” He stopped, apparently unable to find the right words.
“Well, you can’t be serious about her,” Willard said. “She’s got three kids.”
“Three great kids.” Ryan’s retorted. “And in case you hadn’t noticed, I have two of my own.”
“Hey, go out, have a little fun with her, but why would you want to take on so much responsibility—especially on your salary?”
“It all boils down to that, doesn’t it?” Ryan was angry now, and Kerrianne winced at the hurt in his voice. “When will you finally understand, Willard, that a man’s value isn’t related to an oversized paycheck? I can support my family very well, thank you very much. Maybe not in a house like this, but it’s good enough. And meanwhile, I’ll actually be around to raise my children.”
“But Ryan, what about those girls I had here last week?” His mother said in a placating tone. “Colleen and MaryAnn are our kind of people, and I know they were interested in you.”
“What do you mean ‘our kind of people?’ What’s that? Rich people? Educated people? Single people? Intolerant people? And how do you know what kind of people Kerrianne is? She’s smart, she’s funny, and did you see the way she handles those kids?”
“I’m not saying anything bad about your friend, dear. I’m just saying what about those other girls? Your father particularly liked Colleen.”
“He’d like Kerrianne if he’d let himself. Did you see the way she was part of the conversation while we were eating? She knows what’s going on in the world and isn’t afraid to voice her opinion. That is something you should admire, if nothing else.”
Elizabeth didn’t react to the pointed remark. “But Colleen’s family is—” Elizabeth began again.
“I don’t care a fig about Colleen’s family!”
“I do,” Willard said. “I’m glad you’re staying away. I asked her out. She’s beautiful.”
Ryan gave a snort. “You’re welcome to her. Once she heard I wasn’t a lawyer, she wasn’t interested in me anyway. Besides, she’s not nearly as beautiful as Kerrianne.”
“Maybe,” Willard agreed, “but three kids?”
“What about MaryAnn?” Elizabeth pressed.
Ryan hesitated, and his next words dug deep into Kerrianne’s heart. “She seemed like a nice girl.” MaryAnn must have made a good impression upon him.
“Then you’ll go out with her?” Elizabeth was breathless. “Your father will be so pleased. I can call her tonight. Maybe invite her to Thanksgiving.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Ryan exploded. “Would you listen to what I’m trying to say! I’m the one making the decisions here. I can handle—”
Whistling loudly, Kerrianne forced herself through the door. “Hello,” she said brightly, holding out the glasses. “I brought the rest of the dishes.”
She met Elizabeth’s gaze steadily, and it was Elizabeth who looked away, her face turning crimson. Willard stared at the floor.
Ryan gaped at her, but she just winked. “It’s time to go. Let’s get the kids.”
Ten minutes later they were at the door with their coats on, ready to leave. Ryan opened the front door, and the children spilled out like prisoners escaping from a jail, the boys jumping and hooting in chorus.
Kerrianne offered her hand to Elizabeth. “Thank you for having us. It was . . . enlightening.” She couldn’t say “pleasure” because it certainly hadn’t been one. She nodded at Willard and at Sterling, who seemed rather surprised they were leaving so quickly, though not unhappy at the prospect. “Nice to meet you,” she said. One little white lie seemed to be in order here.
Kerrianne wanted to hate them all. Disliking Willard was easy—he was annoying, self-centered, and condescending. But what about Elizabeth and Sterling? Elizabeth had been so kind to Misty, and Kerrianne knew Ryan loved his mother. There must be some basis for that. Yet Elizabeth was also spineless and snobbish, qualities Kerrianne abhorred. As for Sterling, well, she found little to redeem that overbearing man—except his playing ball with Ria. She couldn’t forget he’d given Ria that much. Still, Kerrianne hoped she wouldn’t have to see any of them again.
Yes, in all, the day had been enlightening. Seeing where he’d come from had taught her a lot about Ryan, and she admired him even more than she had before. He’d been raised by worldly parents but had the strength and the courage to follow his own dreams. To have values that weren’t skewed by the world.
She liked that.
She liked him. Maybe too much.
She put the key in the ignition and started the car. Suddenly Ryan’s hand covered hers on the steering wheel. Warmth tingled up her entire arm. “You want me to drive?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I’m too mad to let anyone drive.”
He grinned. “Funny. That’s the way I always feel when I leave here.”
She laughed, feeling slightly better.
Better, that is, until she thought of the unknown MaryAnn, the nice girl who had the blessing of Ryan’s difficult family.
Chapter Sixteen
Ryan enjoyed watching Kerrianne drive, though he tried not to stare or let her know how her movements fascinated him. He loved how she checked the rearview mirror just before she whipped her head around to peek at her blind spot, hair fanning out over her shoulders. Her hands as they turned the wheel into traffic were graceful and sure, much like her entire attitude. When the kids became too noisy, she ordered them to a respectable level with a measured few sentences. He could learn a thing or two from her, that was sure.
He felt a keen disappointment that his family had not ris
en above his expectations, though why he should be disappointed he could hardly say. They’d acted exactly as he predicted—not one iota worse. If he’d been foolish enough to harbor any hope of his family helping him win Kerrianne over, that hope would have been in vain.
Kerrianne, on the other hand, had exceeded all his expectations. She hadn’t been a fragile, wimpy creature but a strong, capable woman sure of her own ability. Her behavior compared with that of his family was almost noble. Now he understood more fully why he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her for one minute since the play.
He was glad he’d presented her as a friend. If he’d said instead, “This is the woman I’m falling in love with” his family’s reaction might have been more pronounced—not to mention that he’d have risked scaring Kerrianne away. Because he didn’t think she was ready to admit that they weren’t friends, not in the real sense. There was an unspeakable knowledge between them that this was something more, possibly much, much more. He chafed at the restrictions he felt, yet at the same time he didn’t want to do anything to ruin what their relationship might become.
“I’m sorry,” he said when she had steered the van onto the freeway.
She glanced over at him. “For what?”
“For how they acted—all of it.”
“You warned me.” She smiled. “But I’ll be honest with you. I can’t see how you came from that family.”
“I’m the black sheep.”
She laughed. “Maybe in this case that’s a good thing.” She fell quiet, stretching her neck to check the children in the rearview mirror.
“They’ve been out of the Church for many years,” he said, feeling somehow that he had to excuse them. “They’re coming back now, I think.”
“That’s good. But that’s still no excuse to—” She broke off.
“You can say it. Go ahead.”
“I feel sad about them. Your brother particularly. He’s really full of himself, isn’t he? And you know what? I think it’s only fair to tell you that the reason I didn’t finish school wasn’t because I didn’t have the opportunity. Adam wanted me to finish.” Her voice lowered so the children wouldn’t hear. “I didn’t finish because I hated it. I wasn’t a very good reader, and it was hard to keep up.”
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