by Loomis, Lisa
“Maybe it’s time for a change,” she said, moving around the table, filling everyone’s glass. “You’ve moved around before; come to California. You definitely have a reason to now, with Karen. There’s a lot of construction work here, and you would have a place to stay,” Mom offered.
Dad got an irritated look on his face. Ooh, obviously not something they had discussed. I glanced at Ryan; he saw it too.
“It’s beautiful here, and the weather is always warm. You wouldn’t have to work in the snow anymore,” she continued.
“You hate it here,” Dad said with a frown.
Mom sat down and put her napkin in her lap.
“I don’t hate it. I just don’t have many friends here is all. You get to travel all the time and be with people. I’m here alone most of the time. The kids are busy, and when you are here, you don’t want to hear about my boring day,” she went on, the frustration evident in her voice.
I could see she’d had plenty of wine. She was in the mindset to say what she wanted to say.
“Come on, Mom, I spend a lot of time with you,” I protested, wanting to try and change the subject, not have Ryan in on an awkward family discussion.
Ryan sensed the tension and jumped in.
“Patty and Steve, it’s been such fun staying with you, I really appreciate the hospitality,” Ryan said.
“It’s nothing,” Mom said demurely. “I’m glad you could come and see new places.”
“Me too, I really enjoyed sharing some of your favorite spots in California with Morgan. San Francisco was incredible, going to the Buena Vista for an Irish coffee, the trip down Highway 1, Carmel, Nepenthe, and Hearst Castle; places Morgan tells me you’ve been to before as a family,” Ryan said.
He’d intentionally brought up history to remind them both about good times, make them think about those places and other times. I couldn’t help but smile at him.
Chapter 18
“Ryan called,” Mom, said when I got home from school.
It was the last part of September, and I was enrolled in school at San Diego State. I was happy to be busy, happy to not be thinking about men or relationships. When Ryan left town, it was with a maybe of coming back soon.
“Called you? Or was he calling me?” I asked.
“Called me,” she said. “He asked if I was serious when I said he had a place to stay if he moved here, a place to ‘crash’ until he got a job.”
“And?” I questioned.
“And, he wants to move here,” she said.
This news obviously made her happy. I was back living at home, and now she would have another person around to talk to.
“Even after the Karen debacle?” I asked.
She was busy cleaning the family room, dusting the furniture, straightening the pillows on the couch. She wore shorts and a loose T-shirt with a blue and white bandana tied around her hair.
“Oh, come on. Karen said she would wait, and she met someone else while she was waiting. Do you blame her?” she asked.
“No. Long distance sucks,” I answered thinking of Mathew. “I think Ryan thought she would wait though, at least longer than a few weeks.”
Ryan wasn’t gone long before Karen moved on to the next flavor. The new flavor was tall and dark-skinned, brown hair, brown eyes, cocky, nothing like Ryan. She’d told Ryan regretfully over the phone that she’d met someone else.
“She let him down easy,” Mom said.
“Probably in her mind. I’m sure Ryan didn’t think it was easy,” I replied.
Ryan and I had talked on the phone and written letters since he’d left. I knew he was hurt, but not entirely surprised. We talked about life, and love, the latter of which neither of us seemed to be very lucky in.
“So what did you say?” I asked.
“I told him the guest room is still open,” she said stacking the magazines on the coffee table.
“Is that going to be all right with Dad?” I asked.
“Let me worry about Dad,” she said.
Ryan arrived during first-quarter finals at school, and I was so focused on school, studying, and work I didn’t see him much the first few weeks. He went looking for a job the day after he arrived and was working full-time within a week. Once finals were over, I was ready to play.
I asked Ryan to join me in whatever was going on in my life socially. He had met a few guys through work and came to know all of my friends. Even though he still viewed Liz and me as the crazy California girls, he liked hanging out with the two of us the best. We were cheap entertainment for him. He was somewhat surprised by how undisciplined the California crowd was, but he took it in stride. It made Liz and me laugh because he was game for anything.
“Ryan, Liz and I are headed to a party in Del Mar tonight… Do you want to come?” I asked.
We were in the kitchen having coffee and getting breakfast. Ryan basically got to see me now in every form: in the morning with no makeup, at night when I was tired, grumpy, and happy. When you lived with someone, there wasn’t much getting around it.
“You two want to drag me along?” he asked.
“Of course we do,” I said. “We like your company.”
The party was in a very upscale neighborhood. Ryan thought my family had money, however, our house paled in comparison. Ours was a single story modest ranch style house this was a glitzy beach resort mansion.
The party was held outside in the large yard with a full bar at one end of the brightly lit pool. The three of us got a drink and hung together a bit till people we knew pulled Liz and I off in different directions. At one point, a piñata was brought out, and various girls were selected to take a swing. The boy throwing the party was obviously delighted to blindfold the girls and hand them the stick to hit with. Rumor at the party was that it was filled with packets of cocaine. When it finally burst open and the insides fell to the ground, people scrambled for the stash. Liz and I stood back, watching the mayhem. Indeed the rumor was true.
“Can you believe that?” Liz asked, laughing. “I thought people were joking.”
The scrambling stopped once every last packet was scooped up. Laughing, I looked through the crowd for Ryan, wanting to share the information. I spotted him across the yard, leaning up against the house, talking to a cute blonde. God, he looked so handsome in his white button-down shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. No hat, and I felt a little sad he only wore it on rare occasions these days. I guessed he didn’t feel it fit into the beach scene so much.
I decided against interrupting him and instead went to get another drink from the bar. Ultimately the guys that Liz and I were hanging out with decided they wanted to move on to the Belly Up Tavern down the hill. The party was thinning out and it sounded like a good idea to us. I made my way towards Ryan who was still talking with the girl.
“Ryan, Liz and I want to head out to a bar down the road,” I said.
He looked from me back to the girl. I leaned up close to his ear.
“Bring her if you want. Meet you at the car,” I whispered.
Liz and I left through the decorative metal side yard gate and walked out to my car. We could hear the music, the shouts, and frivolity coming from the house behind us as we made our way down the street.
“Shit, I forgot Ryan has the keys,” I said snapping my fingers.
As we got further away from the house the street got progressively darker. Thick mature trees lined the street, but there were no streetlights.
“I’m sure he’ll be here in a minute,” Liz said, leaning against the car, her petite frame outlined in the dark.
“How whacky was that? Who can afford to fill a piñata with cocaine?” she pondered.
I stood in the road and tipped my head back to look at the stars.
“I guess people who live in Del Mar. Who told you about this one?” I asked.
“My neighbor invited us. Its some rich friend of his, told him to bring some girls,” Liz said.
Liz and I waited a long time, and I was getting ready to go b
ack and look for Ryan when I saw him coming down the road alone. A shadowy figure, his cowboy boots clicking on the black top.
“Hey, girls,” he said with a smirk.
I spread my legs apart slightly and I put my hands on my hips staring at him.
“Where have you been? We’ve been waiting out here forever,” I said, miffed.
“Give him a break. We’re taking him away from a girl,” Liz chuckled.
“I told him he could bring her,” I defended.
Ryan didn’t say anything as he unlocked my car and got into the driver’s side. Liz hopped in back, and I took shotgun. Ryan started the car and pulled away from the curb. As he drove I noticed that he was driving really slow and poorly, wandering all over the place.
“Ryan, what is wrong with you?” I asked, looking over at him.
I thought maybe he was being funny. I looked into the dark road again as he meandered and then back at him. Then I could tell by the way he was concentrating so hard that he was totally loaded.
“Pull over,” I laughed.
He kept driving, ignoring me, concentrating even harder.
“Right now, Ryan, pull over,” I said more firmly.
He laughed and pulled the car to the side of the road. He put it in park, but didn’t move.
“I’m driving,” I said, opening the door and getting out of the car.
I walked around to the driver’s side and pulled the door open, but he just sat there, hands still on the wheel, no attempt at getting out.
“What the fuck did you have?” I asked, laughing.
Liz laughed in the back seat as well.
“I smoked some pot with that girl. I think it was some pretty strong shit,” Ryan giggled.
I looked at Liz in the backseat and she had her hand over her mouth trying not to laugh.
“Ryan, you are so wasted. Get in the other seat,” I ordered as I too tried not to laugh.
I grabbed his shirt, pulling at him, and he finally got himself out of the car. He was unsteady on his feet and leaned into me. I helped him around to the other side where he collapsed into the passenger seat. Liz’s laugh burst forward, which made me laugh, and before I knew it, the three of us were hysterical. We went to the bar, but I was afraid to let Ryan out of my sight. I had never seen him loaded, and I was afraid he might wander away and get lost in the crowd.
He went to use the restroom, and when he came out, he turned right instead of left and walked smack dab into a mirror. He could see Liz and me sitting at the bar in the mirror, but he couldn’t get to us. His confusion was comical. He would look at us in the mirror and then put his hands on the glass, like a wall had been put up.
“Can’t get there from here,” I chuckled.
Ryan again put his hands on the mirror, feeling it as if there was an opening within reaching distance. He did this several more times. I could see in his face that he could see us, but couldn’t reach us. As Liz and I watched, we laughed so hard we almost wet our pants. I finally felt bad and went and got him.
“Wha, was that?” he whispered.
“Liz, I need to take Ryan home. I can’t dance because I’m afraid to leave him by himself, and I don’t think he can dance. And I can’t drink because I know I have to drive,” I said, still choking down the laughter.
I had my arm looped through Ryan’s as he swayed next to me.
“That’s okay. I can get a ride home from Dave. He and Max are at the lower bar,” she said.
“Even better reason for me to get out of here,” I said.
As much as we ran in the same circles, I hadn’t run into Max very often. I didn’t want to, I felt it would be rough for both of us. I’d heard he had a new girlfriend, which was funny because he was still out at the bar with Dave. Just like old times. I walked Ryan out to the parking lot, doing my best to not weave and stumble.
“You don’t have to leave ‘cause of me. I’m fine,” Ryan said, his words a bit broken.
“I’m not leaving ‘cause of you,” I fibbed. “Max is there, and I didn’t feel like seeing him.”
I unlocked the passenger side and opened his door.
“Oh,” he said, getting into the car carefully, holding onto the door for support.
When we got back to the house, my parents were already in bed, so I turned off the lights they’d left on for us. Ryan headed unsteadily down the hall toward the bathroom, so I went to my room and put on a T-shirt. I sat on the padded edge of my waterbed and waited for him to finish, smiling to myself about him getting so stoned with the girl. I wondered what the pot had been laced with. When he opened the door, he shut off the bathroom light and stepped out into the dark hall feeling his way along the wall to his room.
When I finished my nightly routine and came out of the bathroom, Ryan’s room was dark. He hadn’t shut his door as he normally did, and I was suddenly worried he hadn’t made it to the bed. I went down the hall into his room, feeling for him in the dark, needing to be sure. When I touched him, he flinched. Impulsively, I pulled back the covers and climbed in.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Getting in bed with you,” I said. “Hold me, Ryan.”
He reached his arms out and wrapped them around me. He traced his fingers down my back tenderly. My hands were on his bare chest, and I could feel him breathing. I rested my head on his arm. Thoughts filled my head, Max, Mathew, Ryan, memories. I wanted to feel wanted. I felt the stirrings as I had in Park City, the night we slept together. I wondered if it was Ryan or just the need to be with someone.
“Ryan, make love to me?” I whispered.
I thought about our friendship. Mathew and I had been friends, were still friends. Ryan and I had stayed friends, after our one night together. Maybe that was a boundary I didn’t recognize. Maybe friends meant something else. Max and I dated for years, and I never really viewed him as my friend, my boyfriend, but not my friend. It was odd to think about it in that way. Max always looked out for number one: himself. Friends looked out for each other.
Ryan sucked in his breath and pushed my T-shirt up, a clear indication he was open to my suggestion. I wiggled out of it, stripped off my panties, and pressed my naked body into his. He pulled my face to his and kissed me passionately. My hands wandered down his chest, to his flat tight stomach and I could feel the longing burning within, could feel the butterflies rouse. He pressed his hardness into me and I could tell he needed the comfort of a body as much as I did.
Chapter 19
I lay in my bed the next morning, staring at the ceiling. We’d crossed the friend boundary again. Over the next few weeks, while I helped him look for an apartment, we didn’t talk about that night. I wasn’t sure if he was reluctant or I was, but either way I was okay with letting it go. Ryan was not the type I was usually attracted to. He was handsome enough for sure, but he was also reserved. He came from a small town background. He was kind and caring, not a boy’s boy. I historically was attracted to the bad boys, or the boy’s boy, and this still seemed to be what I went after. Mathew was the bad boy, and Max the boy’s boy; both finding more entertainment in others’ company than mine.
When Ryan found an apartment and moved out, I missed his presence, Mom even more so.
“I miss him being around,” she said one afternoon as we sat out back, another beautiful Southern California day.
“Mom, he’s still around. He just has his own place,” I said.
She tapped out a cigarette from her Virginia Slims pack, lit it and took a drag. She sat back her head angled as if she was thinking.
“Why don’t the two of you go out?” she asked.
“We do,” I said, knowing it wasn’t what she meant.
“I mean date,” she said.
“I know what you mean, I was avoiding you,” I said.
She knew about our night in Park City, but she didn’t know about the night under her roof. I didn’t tell her because I knew she wouldn’t understand why I could have sex with him, but not date him. I kn
ew I couldn’t explain it to her.
Once Ryan moved out, we saw each other a lot less. We were both busy, and we were no longer running into each other while we brushed our teeth. Most of my friends were his friends, so when I did see him it was usually at some social event. Karen and he had gotten past their time together and had remained friends.
Ryan told me about his dates; some of the girls I knew, some I didn’t. We talked freely with each other when we were together. I started dating a yacht captain I met while cocktail waitressing at The Chart House. He was from New Zealand: tall, blond, and buff—another boy’s boy. It started with him coming in with his mates, and I waited on them. Over time, he seemed to show up during more and more of my shifts, taking a seat at the bar, and hanging out. He asked me one Saturday night to come back with him to see the yacht he captained.
“Blake, this is amazing,” I said again as he moved on to show me the movie theater on the boat. “It even has its own popcorn machine.”
I had never been on a yacht, and this one was nicer than most people’s homes! The boat had four staterooms with their own suites—sitting rooms and full baths. It had a large galley kitchen with staff. The living room was massive and plush as was the outdoor sitting area and bar. It had a speedboat and Jet Skis that were stored on the upper deck and lowered to the water by an onboard hoist. It had a helicopter pad. It was hard to imagine people with money like this. I just stood there, taking in all the details of the room.
“Wine?” Blake asked as he moved toward the bar in the living area.
The cabinetry below was stunning, a wine refrigerator built into them, a small copper sink was in the granite counter top with shiny teak-framed mirrors along the back wall
“Where are the owners? I mean, is this okay?” I asked apprehensively.
“Of course it’s okay, I’m the captain,” he said, smiling as he pulled out a bottle of red wine, opened it, and got two glasses from the overhead rack.
“I assume a cabernet is fine?” he said.
He came to me, handing me a glass as he leaned in and kissed me. His lips were soft and it was pleasant, but the butterflies stayed hidden within me.