The Boy on the Bridge

by Sam Mariano

  Without football taking up so much of my time, I could also rejoin the paper and spend that time with Riley. I didn’t really quit because I couldn’t juggle both activities, I just wanted to forget Riley, so I needed to stop being around her more than I absolutely had to be. It was a dumb fucking idea to begin with, fated to fail.

  Riley’s mine, whether she wants to admit it to herself or not. She’s always going to be, and no one is going to stand in my way—not even her.

  I’ve put her through too much, though.

  I need to reroute and make things easier on her.

  When the doorbell rings a couple of hours later, I consider pretending I’m not home. I wasn’t expecting anyone and I don’t want to be interrupted right now, but on the off chance it’s Riley, I go downstairs anyway.

  When I open the door, it’s not Riley standing on the other side.

  It’s her mother.

  That… was not what I expected.

  I do not know how the fuck to proceed.

  “Hi,” I say uncertainly.

  “Hi.” She tries for cordial, but her greeting is tense.

  I’m not surprised. She may have told Riley she’d give me a chance, but I know Michelle still has reservations about me. I get it. She’s protective of Riley and isn’t convinced I won’t hurt her. I don’t take it personally, but it does make me wonder what the hell she’s doing at my house.

  “Riley’s not here,” I tell her, gesturing vaguely into the room behind me.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m here to talk to you.”

  “Me?”

  She nods.

  Huh. Well, all right.

  I take a step back. “Come in.”

  She glances past me reluctantly, like she doesn’t really want to. She steps into the entryway but lingers by the door, a hand on her purse strap like she’s eager to get back through it.

  Since she seems so uneasy being here, I don’t try to take her any farther without indication she wants to come in. “Do you want to sit? Are you thirsty?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I don’t expect I’ll be here long, I just… I need to ask you a couple of things and, depending on the answers to those questions, impart some advice you haven’t asked for.”

  My eyebrows rise. “Sounds like a good time.”

  “There should be a carnival booth outside selling tickets,” she deadpans.

  “All right. What are these questions?”

  “Do you love my daughter?” she asks bluntly. “I don’t mean you think she’s cute or smart or funny, that you like her, that you want to sleep with her. Not lust, not like—do you truly love my daughter? Through thick and thin, surviving good times and bad kind of love?”

  “Yes,” I answer without hesitation.

  She nods like that’s the answer she expected. “Okay. What did you do to her?”

  My heart sinks.

  Michelle closes her eyes and holds up a hand before I can speak. “No, wait. Don’t tell me. Don’t tell me what you did. I told myself I wasn’t going to ask that one. It’s setting this up to fail. Riley might forgive you for whatever it was, but I never will. Don’t tell me what you did. Tell me why you did it.”

  I drop her gaze, trying to figure out which thing she even means. I have no idea what Riley shares with her mom. Does she mean the night I took her virginity, the thing with Valerie, or the night Sherlock kissed her?

  “You look confused,” Michelle says, sounding slightly afraid. “Why do you look confused? Is there a long list? You’re trying to figure out which time I’m referring to?”

  Jesus Christ. How do moms do that?

  Michelle takes my not answering in a nanosecond as verification of my long list of sins and covers her face with her hands. “Ugh, what am I doing here? I should just let this work itself out. She’s going to college in a few months anyway, maybe she’ll never see either one of you again. Maybe she’ll get over this bad boy thing and meet someone who will take better care of her.”

  “Hey,” I say, scowling. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you. Riley loves you and I do want you to like me, but there is no one in the world who would treat your daughter better than I would.”

  She uncovers her face and cocks an eyebrow. “Then how come the girl that’s been crazy about you since she was 14 refuses to be your girlfriend now? Initially I thought it was my fault, but I’ve realized it’s yours. You started sending flowers. Men only send flowers when they fuck up, and she threw them away one week, so you must have really fucked up. Riley would never do that without an insanely good reason.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not gonna defend myself, Michelle. I did fuck up, and I’ve been trying to make it up to her ever since. I know it’s my fault she won’t agree to be my girlfriend. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop trying. I’m not. She’s it for me. Nothing’s ever gonna change that. I don’t want anyone else. I know you think we’re too young or whatever, but I’m not too young to know I love your daughter, and I never want to love anyone else.”

  Her whole posture changes. It’s almost like she takes a step back, but her feet don’t move. She looks at me for the first time like maybe she takes me a little bit seriously.

  Then, the woman who never seems to run out of words says simply, “Huh.”

  “Does that answer your question?”

  “It does.”

  I feel awkward as hell, dumping my heart out for her approval. Now she doesn’t look uncomfortable and eager to flee, but those feelings have drifted over to me. “So… is that it?”

  She shakes her head. “No. You unlocked the unsolicited advice level.”

  “Lucky me.”

  She smiles faintly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’ve gotta lay off Sherlock.”

  Whatever I expected her to say, it was not that. “Excuse me?”

  “I get that he kissed her and you’re jealous. I even get that he was pushy and aggressive, and maybe…” She trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence. She doesn’t figure it out, but she does bring her gaze back to mine. “I completely understand where you’re coming from and why you feel the way you do, but you have to back off.” She holds up a hand to preempt my objection. “Listen, I don’t know what you did to even open her up to the possibility of anyone but you, but you do. She didn’t get there on her own. Riley is the most loyal person in the world.”

  I sigh. “I know that. I’m not mad at Riley.”

  “I just wanted to make sure you understood. It’s not because she doesn’t love you. She does. But whoever made the tear that he snuck through, it’s there.”

  My heart just about fucking stops. “Has she talked to you about him?”

  “I’m not going to betray my daughter’s confidence, but I am going to… tiptoe around it.” She shifts uncomfortably, staring at the floor instead of looking at me.

  “All right,” I say warily, watching her.

  “Some part of me wishes Riley would’ve stayed in a sexless relationship with Anderson, because… well, it’s hard to see your baby grow up. In my more rational mind, I know that was never going to last. She is growing up, and part of that is discovering… love, passion—all those fun, scary things she never felt before you.” She looks up at me. “If Riley is going to get serious with somebody, I would much rather it be the guy that sends flowers and tries relentlessly to fix what he broke than the guy who corners her at parties and blows up her rival’s car.”

  I knew there was something brewing between Riley and Sherlock. I could feel it. Hearing her mom acknowledge it, though… that’s on another level.

  If her mom knows about it, Sherlock is a fucking threat, whether Riley wants to admit it or not.

  “He didn’t blow the car up,” I mutter. “He just set it on fire.”

  “I cannot possibly express how little I care about that differentiation. He committed arson on some level, and demonstrated predatory tendencies toward my daughter. He is Satan, and now I realize I am much more comfortable with the devil I know
.” She gestures around the foyer. “Hence my presence here in Hell.”

  I shake my head, aggravated. Looking off at the wall, I say, “So, what the fuck am I supposed to do, Michelle? Just sit by and watch her slip through my fingers? How do you come here and tell me I’m right to be worried, but I need to back off and just let it happen?”

  “That is not at all what I am saying,” she tells me. “I know it may seem counterintuitive right now, but trust me, kid, I’ve been around the block a few more times than you have. I’m no love expert, but I’ve picked up some things over the years, and I do know my daughter.”

  I certainly can’t argue with that.

  Michelle goes on. “Riley is the kind of person who cannot stand to see people mistreated. I know, most good people don’t like to see others mistreated, but it’s different for Riley. She can’t sit idly by and watch it happen, she’s not a bystander. She has to make it her problem. She has to protect the injured party. When Valerie hurt Sara in first grade, Riley pulled Sara under her wing and became her best friend. When Riley found out your stepfather was abusing you and your mom wasn’t doing shit about it, she had to protect you, Hunter. She had to try. It’s who she is. Honestly, I’m shocked she managed to keep that secret as long as she did, but the only reason she did was out of loyalty to you. At a certain point, what being loyal to you meant… it became something different, even if you didn’t like it.”

  “I know,” I tell her, looking down. “I’m not mad about all that anymore.”

  “Good. But I’m bringing it up to show you examples of Riley being who she is. Examples you’ve seen for yourself, so you can see that I’m right.”

  “What does this have to do with Sherlock?” I ask, even though I think I can see where she’s heading with this.

  “If you go after him, Riley will protect him. She’ll have to. It’s who she is.”

  My hands tighten into fists at my sides.

  “It’s not because she doesn’t love you, or because she likes him more. It’s just who she is. Whatever her reasons, she sympathizes with him. I don’t know what they are; unfortunately, we can’t talk about him. The only time we really tried…” She stops, shaking her head. “I’m not good enough at faking my feelings to pretend I am not terrified of her liking him, and if she senses that, it’ll only make him more appealing. I really didn’t think I’d ever have to deal with that dynamic with Riley. We’re freakishly close, I never imagined she would want to rebel and date a guy I didn’t like, but first you, now this guy… Anyway, you don’t want to hear any of this. The point is…” She looks up, as if searching for a lost train of thought. “I have forgotten my point.”

  I refresh her memory, even though I hate every fucking word more than the last. “The more I go after Sherlock, the more I’m gonna push her into his arms.”

  “Yes, that,” she says, pointing at me. “And I don’t know this guy, but from the impression I have, you don’t want to give him an inch; he’ll take a mile.”

  “Yep. That’s Sherlock,” I mutter.

  “So, that’s my fear. That Riley won’t even realize she’s letting him in until it’s too late. If she opens the door another inch or so, he might just push his way into her heart. He already has her sympathy, she’s already on the border of feeling like we’re being unfair to him, and to tip the odds in his favor even more, the kid blew up Valerie Johnson’s car to defend Riley’s honor. Riley doesn’t hate many people, but she despises Valerie Johnson. If you hadn’t come back, I think that action alone would have had her throwing her panties at him. We’re both lucky he didn’t notice her earlier and try that while you were gone.”

  Anger courses through me just thinking about him moving in on Riley while I wasn’t here. “Yeah, well… we were friends then. He knew better.”

  “Well, maybe you should be again,” she advises. “Not to get all Godfather on you, but keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, right?”

  I nod. “Right.”

  A moment passes in silence, ushering in her exit. “So… that’s it. My two cents’ worth. I was conflicted about telling you all this. I know it can’t be pleasant to hear.”

  “Nope. Sure isn’t.”

  “But you said you loved her,” she says, as if to remind me. “For real. When it’s easy and when it’s hard. If that’s true… prove it.”

  I look down at the ground, nodding. Times like these, I wish I had someone I could talk to like Riley has her mom. I don’t have anyone like that other than Riley, and I can’t talk to her about her.

  As if she can sense it, Michelle lingers for a moment, then asks gently, “Are you okay?”

  I nod without looking up. “Yeah. It’s just tough. I do love Riley, more than anything. But I need to know she loves me the same way, you know? I feel like I love her more than she loves me, and that’s fucking terrifying.”

  Michelle sighs, her whole demeanor softening. She takes a step forward and reaches out to squeeze my shoulder. “Aw, hon. She loves you a lot. Believe me, I know.”

  “I know she loves me, I just… I’m afraid of losing her. And this Sherlock thing… I mean, I need to know I have her loyalty, too.”

  “Well… I understand that.” She lets go of my shoulder, but stays close. “Listen, Riley had a different kind of upbringing than most kids. I’m independent, perhaps to a fault, and as a result, you’ve gotta realize… Riley grew up seeing my fierce independence and thinking it was the norm. While for some girls, it might not occur to them they could be perfectly happy on their own, that’s the only way Riley knows. Until this year, she never even saw me cry over a man. Putting up with some guy’s shit? That’s foreign to her. We don’t do that. I wasn’t in many serious relationships when she was growing up, and the few I had, I ended them as soon as the guy pissed me off. I’m quick to cut my losses and move on. I’m not into commitment. The thought of marriage makes me itch, and the type of man who can change my mind about any of that… unicorns. Didn’t even think they existed until I met Ray. Ray’s my…” She stops to explain, but halts when she has to figure out what to call him.

  Apparently, the Bishop women are allergic to boyfriends.

  I crack a smile, saving her. “Yeah, I know. Riley told me about Ray.”

  “Okay, good,” she says, looking relieved. “Anyway, as a consequence of me being the way I am, Riley has seen what it looks like to take on life alone. Her whole life, it was just the two of us, and we were happy that way. Independence is Riley’s default setting. She knows she doesn’t need a man. Because of that, and I say this with affection, but… Hunter, Riley is not going to put up with your shit. Maybe other girls have, but Riley is not those girls. She can love you to the very ends of the earth and still refuse to be with you if you’ve made her feel like that’s what she has to do for herself.” She waits for me to look at her, then gives me a sad little smile. “You say you need to know you have Riley’s loyalty, but I pose the question: has she always had yours?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  Smiling grimly, she shakes her head. “Nope. But you know the answer, that’s what matters. If the answer is no, it’s your fault she’s open to Sherlock. Riley knows what she deserves, and she’s not going to settle for less, even if she loves you. If you can’t be the man she deserves, then she’s not the girl for you. Cut her loose, find yourself a shoddier model with lower expectations. Trust me, there are plenty out there.”

  “I get that. I respect that. But I can be the man she deserves. I will be, I just need the chance and she won’t give me one.”

  “Earn it,” she says simply. “You’re young, and you fucked up. I get it. It happens. People have to learn how to love each other, and sometimes that can be messy. The important thing is that you learn from your mistakes so you don’t repeat them.”

  “Oh, I’ve learned plenty, it was just an expensive lesson. I don’t think Riley’s worried I’d make the same mistake twice, it’s just… I’m trying to repair the damag
e, and it’s not easy.”

  “Maybe you can. Maybe not.”

  “I can,” I state, refusing to accept an alternative.

  She shrugs. “Maybe. But not by going after Sherlock. He’s not really the problem—not unless you make him the problem. If you fight him, he’ll probably win. He hasn’t hurt her and you have.”

  Ouch.

  “So… that’s all the advice I wanted to give you. I guess I’ll go now. Good luck, kid.” She slaps me on the arm, then turns around to leave.

  “Wait.”

  She turns back. “Yeah?”

  I don’t really know how to word what I want to ask. “I know you think I’m the lesser of two evils because I haven’t blown up any cars, but if you really think she’d pick him… why are you helping me?”

  She considers that for a moment. Her gaze drifts past me and she sighs. Finally, she looks back at me, a sad little smile grazing her lips. “Because she’d regret it, eventually. Riley loves you, Hunter, she’s just hurt. You’ve bruised her heart when she trusted you not to. She needs to feel safe with you again, and right now she’s not sure she ever will. This other guy’s new. He’s flashy. He can make her feel safe for a while, but… how safe do you think he really is? He blew up a car, for Christ’s sake.”

  I shrug. “If he hurt her, she’d just leave him, too. Right? That’s what you taught her.”

  “Yep.” She nods, not at all ashamed. “And then there’d be someone else, and someone else after him. The thing is, hearts are only tender for a little while if they keep getting kicked around. Riley isn’t like me, at least not right now. She’s more open to love than I was, even close to her age. Her father did a number on me.” She looks down. “Don’t mention that to Riley. She doesn’t know. It’s the one thing we’ve never talked about.”

  I’m stunned she’d share a secret with me, but I assure her, “I won’t.”

  “After him, I built up walls, and it took a very long time for me to meet someone who made it past them. To be honest, I never expected anyone to brave that climb. I was content to live my life alone, just me and Riley. But Riley…” She trails off, then sighs. “If she has to get over you, I think it’ll start her down a long path of being alone. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Her gaze meets mine. “But I do believe that you love her, and I know she loves you. In the long run, I think she’d be much happier with you, and Riley happy is all I want.”