His Best Bet_Uncensored

by Laney Smith

  “That was fast. You better hurry up if you want that kiss. Otherwise, he’s going to catch us.”

  Corlay playfully laughed as she rolled her eyes. “It’s not happening.”

  Ryan nodded. “OK. Well, if you change your mind . . .”

  Nathan came barreling up the hall, twisting as he tried to wrench his pajama shorts on his dripping wet body. Ryan watched the boy, shaking his head and scrunching his nose as he tried not to laugh. Corlay sighed, less impressed with her son’s antics.

  “Nathan, go dry off,” she urged.

  “What did you want to tell me?”

  “Go get your towel. She can tell you while you dry off.” Ryan said as he sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

  Nathan turned and darted down the hall toward the bathroom. Within a few seconds, he came zipping back into the kitchen, dragging a towel behind him. He made race car sounds, pretending the towel was his flag.

  “Dude,” Ryan chuckled. “Use the towel.”

  Nathan looked down at his chest, wiping away droplets as he argued, “But, I’m dry.”

  “Nate, buddy, your cheeks are half hanging out of your trousers. Keep drying and your clothes will go on better.”

  Nathan rested his elbow on Ryan’s knee, haphazardly tossing the towel at him. “Can you help me? What mom?”

  “Do you want to play little league?” Corlay asked.

  “Um . . . yes. But, I still want to hang out with Ryan.”

  “Ryan is going to go with you, right, Ryan?” her tone became insistent.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Are you going to be my coach?”

  Corlay gave Ryan a thoughtful look, “Yeah, Ryan? What about it?”

  “No, I’m going to watch you, though.”

  “Go ahead, Ryan. I dare you,” Corlay taunted with a sassy smile.

  His eyes locked on hers and he returned a cocky expression. “Woo! You are salty.”

  “Yes!” Nathan beamed. “The real Ryan Priest is going to be my coach! Wahoo!”

  Ryan’s face reflected the realization of what Nathan was thinking and he started double talking. “I’ll work with you, but we’ll let some other guy be the coach for your team. I don’t have patience with kids. Except you. But, you’re not a kid. So, that’s why I can only help you.”

  “My private coach, or a team coach?”

  Corlay laughed, deviously, as Ryan’s eyes shifted around the room. “Team coach? Wow! Not that. Hoh-k! I am traumatized from the thought of that. I should get myself home, before I get talked into something I can’t handle.”

  Ryan stood and fished his car keys out of his pocket. He rubbed his knuckle over Nathan’s head. Ryan heard his own father’s words fall from his lips as he looked down at Nathan.

  “Hey, you gotta get in bed. You help your mom. She just gave you permission to do something you want to do. You be good to her, OK?”

  “Will you tuck me in?” Nathan asked.

  Ryan couldn’t think of a reply, so he said the first thing that popped in his head. “Uh, sure. Yeah. I could do that, I guess.”

  He flashed Corlay a questioning glance, as though he were waiting for a reaction. Corlay smiled a soft, sweet, motherly smile. Ryan returned her smile and clapped his hands together.

  “Get those legs moving,” Ryan said as he shifted his focus to Nathan. “Run, run, run.”

  As Nathan tore off, running for the stairs, Corlay chimed in. “No! No running in the house.”

  Ryan glanced back at her and threw his hands up with a sarcastic expression. “Sorry, Nate. That was my fault. No running in the house.”

  Corlay watched as Nathan and Ryan climbed the stairs, chatting about something Nathan had said. She felt her heart skip a beat when Ryan glanced back at her and smiled his dimply smile. It didn’t matter how many times she had talked to herself, she couldn’t help feeling excited about seeing how good Ryan was with Nathan. She couldn’t help but feel an attraction to this man. When she realized she was standing, smiling at nothing like a young girl in love, she shook the dreamy thoughts from her head. She looked down at herself and sighed.

  “I don’t stand a chance,” she muttered.

  ~SEVENTEEN~

  As Ryan and Nathan climbed the stairs, Ryan noticed the plethora of plants. As Nathan had told him that night on the phone, the plants were woven through the spindles on the stair railing. If he were being honest, he could understand why a kid would have nightmares about this jungle in his home.

  “So, your mom really likes plants, huh?”

  One of the corners of Nathan’s mouth drew back in a smirk. “Yeah! She wants her own greenhouse someday.”

  Ryan’s lips curved downward as he surveyed the plants and nodded. “Well, she’s got a good start, that’s for sure.”

  “I don’t like them. I want them not to be in my house. They give me nightmares.”

  Ryan sighed as he put his hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “Yeah. Makes sense. Alright! You gotta get in bed. I have to get home before it gets too late. We get to have more fun tomorrow.”

  Nathan bolted for his bedroom door, folding his legs up under him as he leapt through the air and bounced on his bed. After bouncing, flipping and flopping, the boy finally pushed his face into the pillow with his knees up under him, butt in the air. He found himself to be rather amusing as he laughed at the snorting sounds he made into the pillow. Then, he quickly sat up.

  “Ryan, you know what would be really cool?”

  “If you would lay down and stop acting like a farm animal?”

  “No!” Nathan giggled as he jumped out of bed and started darting around the room as he said, “If you tried to catch me.”

  Ryan held his arms out to his sides, shaking his head as the boy giggled, running like a lunatic. “Just where do you think you’re gonna go?”

  “You can’t catch me. You can’t catch me!” Nathan chanted.

  Ryan looped his arm around Nathan’s middle and playfully tossed him back on his bed. Nathan kicked and flipped, fighting bedtime with everything he had in him. Ryan patiently coached him to calm down. After a few moments, his voice took on a more directive tone.

  “Nathan, knock it off, or I won’t be the one tucking you in, anymore.”

  “OK, OK, OK! Geez,” the boy played along.

  Ryan flipped the bedding up over the child. “OK, now get to sleep. I don’t want you to be a grouch tomorrow.”

  “Ryan, you have to give me a hug first,” Nathan countered.

  Ryan sighed. “You’re being a troll.”

  “Just one hug, then I’ll go to sleep.”

  Ryan leaned down and Nathan looped his arms around Ryan’s neck. He planted a kiss on Ryan’s cheek. “I love you, Ryan.”

  Ryan growled like a bear, fighting back tears as he hugged the boy. “I love you, too, buddy! Get some sleep.”

  “Good night!” Nathan said as he released Ryan and settled down into his bed.

  “Do you want the light on or off?”

  Nathan scoffed. “Off. You can’t sleep with the light on, silly goose.”

  “OK, silly goose. Do you want the door opened or closed?”

  “Closed. Remember? I don’t like the plants.”

  Ryan nodded. “Right!”

  After he left Nathan’s room, he stood outside the closed door for a second, lost in his own thoughts. He had never been a dad and had never really thought about it. In that moment, he realized how tragic it was that he had never considered fatherhood. Then, he heard Nathan’s words replay in his head. I love you. It meant more to him than anything he had ever heard in his life. He strolled toward the stairs and descended them with a smile on his face. He realized how wide he was smiling when he startled at the realization that Corlay was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Is he settled in?” she asked, seeming nervous.

  Ryan’s head twitched toward his right shoulder. “Yeah! He felt he needed to go for a little jog before he could go to sleep. So, we
got that out of the way. He should be good, now.” Ryan rested on his forearm, leaning against the railing.

  “A jog?”

  Ryan smacked his lips together. “Yep! Looked like a rooster on a pogo stick.”

  “Thanks! Now when you’re not here, he’s going to think he can do that.”

  Ryan sat down on the step, resting his elbows on his knees, interlacing his fingers, staring at Corlay for a second before he spoke. “So, what’s with all these plants?”

  Corlay gripped the Newell post and sighed. Her eyes absently scanned the room before she shyly answered. “I studied horticulture in college. I wanted to be hailed as some exotic plant specialist. I wanted to have greenhouses and be known by every landscaping architect for having the best nursery on the planet. I know it sounds stupid, but I find gardening relaxing.”

  Ryan glanced around at the plants he could see from his seat on the stairs. “It looks like you maintain them very well. That jungle upstairs - it’s like a vacation paradise up there. You have toucans flying around up there? A couple of monkeys?”

  Corlay laughed as she tucked a loose sprig of hair behind her ear. “No. No monkeys.”

  “What do you do, Corlay? Where do you work? You work with plants?”

  She sighed discontentedly. “No. I work in a call center. You know all those, how am I driving, stickers on the backs of various company vehicles? I field those calls for a company called Carriage Dispatch. Super fun,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

  “So, if you don’t like it, why are you doing it? Go work in a greenhouse.”

  “It’s not that I don’t like my job. I just don’t love it,” she nervously smiled. “I’ve been busting my hump, hoping to get promoted to a supervisor position. The boss seems to prefer the pretty girls. You know, with short skirts, low cut shirts, and the dexterity that guarantees they’ll conveniently drop everything they touch. It makes me sick,” she confessed. Then, as though someone had snapped their fingers to wake her from a trance, she shifted on her feet. “But, that’s real exciting to hear about, I’m sure.”

  “So, why do you work so much?”

  “Because someone has to cover while the boss is training those short skirts . . . I mean, girls,” Corlay said, bitterly. “I don’t know that for fact. I just suspect. One of those girls is constantly late, she calls in non-stop, and she leaves early all the time. I want the promotion. That would mean a three dollar an hour pay increase. So, I stay late and cover for the other girls, hoping it will make a difference. So far, I get overlooked, like some mushroom growing amongst roses.”

  Ryan tilted his head and Corlay could see the pity in his face. She felt silly for sharing so much. She wasn’t fishing for him to jump up and tell her she was beautiful, but for just a minute she wished he would, anyway. Shyness swept over her and she snickered at herself, quickly shaking her head.

  “I’m sorry, Ryan. I’m sure you’ve always dreamed of being my therapist,” she joked. “I’m sure you have other things to do, besides listening to my troubles.”

  Ryan sighed and lightly slapped his palms on his knees as he stood. “It’s not a problem. I should probably head out, though,” he pitched his thumb over his shoulder. “The boss man has no sympathy for his tired help.”

  Corlay laughed. “He’s got you jumping, huh?”

  A proud smile widened Ryan’s lips and he nodded, towering over her from where he stood on the bottom step. “He runs a pretty tight ship.”

  “Is this still OK with you? Are you OK, hanging out with him, I mean? This is just kind of growing into an expectation and I don’t want to -”

  “It’s fine with me. Really,” Ryan interrupted, smiling his proud smile, again. “He keeps me out of trouble.”

  “You better be careful. Your bookie’s gonna start looking for you. I’m assuming you don’t take Nathan with you for any of that, right?” Corlay questioned.

  Ryan felt his shoulders drop. His happy expression faded and his sparkling eyes dulled. He stared at the floor, pursing his lips as he slowly shook his head.

  “No. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I read an article on the Internet. It sounds like you’ve got all the inside information. Do you share your secrets?” Corlay asked with sincere interest.

  Ryan hated himself too much to plead his case. He winked at her and motioned toward the door with his head. “I’m gonna get going.”

  “Oh, OK. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked about that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get too personal.”

  As she stared up at him, searching his face for a reaction, Ryan softly tapped her chin with his knuckle. “Guess you’ll have to steal that kiss some other time. I’m running late for bedtime. Same time tomorrow?”

  Corlay smiled and then nodded. “Yeah, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

  He slowly blinked, humbly ducking his head. “I’ll be here.”

  ~EIGHTEEN~

  When Ryan walked through the door of his parent’s home, his mother called to him from her old, navy, velvet recliner. He strolled toward her voice, noticing the popping and creaking as he moved through the old house. He stood next to the brass floor lamp beside her chair.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he offered with warmth in his tone as he kissed her cheek. “Dad go to bed?”

  “Yes. Were you with Scottie?” she asked excitedly.

  Ryan shook his head. “No. I was hanging out with Nathan.”

  “Your daddy and I should’ve had one more child after you. You would’ve made such a good big brother,” she said, inadvertently pushing an underlying point. “You’re a good younger brother, too. That reminds me . . .”

  “Mom, I’m not doing this tonight,” Ryan said, arching his eyebrows.

  “I talked to Rick.”

  “That’s good. I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.”

  “Don’t you dare. You can listen to what I have to say,” she griped.

  “I know what you have to say. This is going nowhere. It is not going to happen. You need to leave Rick and I to work this out for ourselves. The more you push, the more we’re going to push back.”

  “No. Rick’s willing to talk to you. He says as long as you’re honest with him, he’s interested in working things out. He said he forgave you a long time ago. He just wants you to admit what you did. I asked him to come for dinner tomorrow so the two of you could talk and you can meet the girls.”

  Ryan bit his lower lip as he glared at his mother.

  “Ryan, don’t you look at me like that,” Frannie snapped. “You’ve been stubborn long enough. It’s time to fix this and to make amends. Own up to whatever it is. Move on with life. Is it really worth this?”

  Ryan threw his head back and held it for a second before dropping it forward. “Yeah. Kinda. Uh-huh. And, everything you just said has only set me off more. I told the son of a . . . I told him the truth four years ago. I’m his brother. He should know me better than that.”

  “Tell me what happened,” Frannie insisted.

  “You wanna know, Mom? Fine!” Ryan fumed. “Sasha, Rick and I were all hanging out, just like we had done a hundred-thousand-times before. Rick’s neighbors came over so Rick and his neighbor went to do a liquor store run. Rick did that thing where he takes a notion to go and he just up and left. He never told me he was going. I didn’t know where he went until he got back. I sat on the patio with Sasha and that neighbor woman; I think her name was Jamie, or something. Anyway, I did nothing different than if Rick had been there. I went inside to take a piss. When I came out of the bathroom, Sasha was standing there, with the wrong kind of look in her eyes. I tried to play it off like I didn’t notice. I gave her every opportunity she could’ve needed to adjust her intentions. She didn’t take it. She was drunk and she tried to kiss me a few times. I pushed her away, every . . . single . . . time. I never said a word about it to Rick. Two weeks later, we’re throwing punches, beating the hell out of each other because that bitch told him I took advantage of her while
she was drunk. I never touched her. Apparently, the neighbor woman believed whatever Sasha told her and so she sided with Sasha, saying we were inside, alone together, for a long time. I’m some kind of rapist, or something, apparently. My brother thinks I bagged his wife. He didn’t want to hear the truth. He didn’t want to hear that it was her and that I never betrayed him. For some reason, it’s easier to believe that I would do that to him, than to accept that his wife lied. Fuck him! Excuse my mouth. But, you wanted to know. Now you know.”

  “What about Nicky?” Frannie asked.

  Ryan drew his head back in confusion. “Who?”

  “Their oldest daughter. Is there any way she’s yours? Rick says he doesn’t care. He loves her like his own, regardless of whether or not she is his. He thinks she looks just like you. But, what do you think? Is there any way that little girl is your daughter?”

  Ryan stood with his eyes wide, not blinking, not breathing, mouth agape, just staring at his mother. Eventually, he groaned. “Well, maybe she looks like me because . . . I don’t know . . . we’re related. Looks like me? What the hell?”

  “I’m your mother, Ry. I love you no matter what.”

  Ryan rolled his head and let it fall back. “Oh, my God,” he spouted as he covered his face with his hands. “This isn’t happening. There is no way this is happening.”

  “Ryan? Tell me the truth,” his mother urged.

  His eyes took on a look of rage as he stared at his mother. “You raised me. How in the hell can you ask me that? Is his daughter my daughter? No! There is no . . . way. I didn’t touch Sasha. I didn’t screw her. I didn’t father her kid.”

  “Take a paternity test, Ryan. Put Rick’s mind at ease.”

  Ryan drove his fingers into the middle of his chest. “Me? Are you serious? You don’t believe me, either? OK. I get it. Fine. I don’t get why he doesn’t take the test. But, fine. I’ll take your little test. I’m not worried about jack shit. I did not touch that tramp. Bring it on! But, you know why he won’t take the test? Because that wouldn’t keep me in the hot seat. He’s nuts. He wants me to be the kind of guy that would screw my brother’s wife. He’s known me my entire life. But, it’s easier to believe I’d bed his wife than to believe his wife is a lying winch. Bring on the test, Mom. I don’t care if he’s got one kid, two, or twenty. None of them are mine. That I know for certain.”