Page 27
Story: Reaching Ryan
“Okay.” I nudge my plate away because I’m suddenly not hungry. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t like being lied to,” he says, back still to me while he pours himself a cup of coffee.
“I…” I shake my head again, watching while he opens the fridge and reaches into it to pull out a carton of half and half. “I didn’t—I never—”
“If you don’t like me, just say so.” Turning toward me, he takes the few steps between us. He comes to a stop across the counter in front of me, setting his mug on the counter, he opens the carton and tips it over the rim to pour in a generous amount. “A year ago, it would’ve bugged the shit out of me but I’ve learned that I can’t win them all.” He pushes the carton toward me with a shrug. “It’s okay, Grace. You don’t have to—”
“I don’t trust you.” I blurt it out, my face draining of blood so fast I feel lightheaded when I realize what I just said but I don’t take it back. Can’t take it back because it’s the truth. Instead I reach for the carton. Concentrate on pouring half and half into my cup while I finish it. “I don’t trust you. I don’t trust this.” I stab my fork at the plate in front of me. “The way you are with Molly. How devoted you are to Cari.” Looking up at him I shake my head. “It’s not the real you. It can’t be.”
He considers me for a second, his green eyes flicking over my face like he’s assessing me. Sizing me up. Finally he speaks. “Okay.”
Okay.
Okay?
I basically just called him a liar to his face and all he has to say is okay?
Seriously?
Before I can ask him what the hell okay is supposed to mean, Patrick laughs and shakes his head at me. “I asked for the truth and I got it.” He shrugs before lifting his cup to him mouth to take a drink. “I’d be a hypocritical asshole if I got mad just because I don’t like what you have to say.”
That pretty much takes the wind out of my sails. I sit here for a few moments, watching him drink coffee before I say anything else. “I am grateful though. For your willingness to put up with us.”
“Put up with you?” He cocks his head at me like he has no idea what I’m talking about.
“Well, yeah.” Focusing on the pancakes in front of me, I use the side of my fork to cut into the stack. They’re cold and soggy but as a mother, I’m used to it. I can’t remember last time I enjoyed a fresh, hot meal that didn’t come out of a fast food bag. And even then, the fresh and hot is debatable. “And I promise it’s not forever. As soon as—”
“You and Molly aren’t going anywhere.” He sets his mug down. “Not until you’re ready.”
“I don’t want to be a burden.” I stuff a lump of cold pancake into my mouth and start to chew. It’s pretty much my worst nightmare. That Molly and I become a millstone around someone’s neck. “I’ll cook and clean. I can run errands and do laundry.”
“What a coincidence—I can do those things too.” He laughs and shakes his head at me. “You’re family, Grace—not an indentured servant.” He pushed the something toward me. a set of keys. underneath it is what looks like a credit card. He might as well have shoved a dead rat at me. The look on my face must show it because he laughs again. “It’s a used Kia Soul, not a Maserati.”
“And a…” I lean in closer to get a good look at the rest of it. “An Amex black card?” I feel a little sick to my stomach. “With my name on it?” I sit back, my ass hitting the stool so hard it jars my spine. I just offered myself up as a live-in maid. Instead of taking me up on it, he basically just told me thanks, but no thanks and on top of it, he gives me a new car and a seemingly unlimited expense account? What the fuck is happening here? “I can’t accept this.”
Patrick flashes me his dimples. “The car or the card?”
“Either one.” I shake my head, my jaw set at a stubborn angle. “I can’t.”
He pushes them toward me. “Sure you can,” he says, sighing a bit when I keep shaking my head. “It’s only money, Grace.”
“It’s only money?” I feel my internal temperature start to rise. “You know who says things like that? People who have money.”
He sighs again. “Look—” Clearly agitated, he swipes a rough hand over his face. “You don’t have to trust me. You don’t even have to like me—but you and Moll, you’re family now.” He frowns at me, like he’s not sure I’m understanding him correctly. Like maybe he’s not explaining it right. “We take care of each other—whatever it takes.”
“With new cars and credit cards?” I sound ungrateful. Bitchy. Even though I hate myself for it, I can’t seem to turn it off.
H smiles again, giving me a crooked grin I’ve seen before. “There are definite perks to being a Gilroy.”
I’m not a Gilroy.
Before I can say it out loud, Molly comes bounding down the hallway in a pair of hot pink leggings and a bright yellow sweater with orange stars on it. When he sees her, he shifts his attention from me to her. “Guess what, Moll,” he says while she climbs her way onto the stool next to me. “Your mom got a new car—a yellow one.”
Butt plopped in the seat, she turns and stares at me with wide eyes. “Really?” She bounces a little in her seat, unable to contain her excitement. “Yellow is my favorite color!”
“I know.” He sets a plate of pancakes in front of her with a flourish. “Guess what else?” He looks at me and I catch a glimpse of the not-so-nice guy who likes to get his way and isn’t above manipulation to make it happen. “Your mom is going to take you shopping for things to decorate your new bedroom today.”
Now her jaw drops completely. We’ve been sharing a room since she was born. “I get my own room?” She squeals and claps her hands. “Can I get pony sheets? and maybe a blanket too.” Giving me a pleading look, her mouth suddenly drops open as if something just occurred to her. “Can I get new shoes? With laces and not baby Velcro straps?”
“I don’t like being lied to,” he says, back still to me while he pours himself a cup of coffee.
“I…” I shake my head again, watching while he opens the fridge and reaches into it to pull out a carton of half and half. “I didn’t—I never—”
“If you don’t like me, just say so.” Turning toward me, he takes the few steps between us. He comes to a stop across the counter in front of me, setting his mug on the counter, he opens the carton and tips it over the rim to pour in a generous amount. “A year ago, it would’ve bugged the shit out of me but I’ve learned that I can’t win them all.” He pushes the carton toward me with a shrug. “It’s okay, Grace. You don’t have to—”
“I don’t trust you.” I blurt it out, my face draining of blood so fast I feel lightheaded when I realize what I just said but I don’t take it back. Can’t take it back because it’s the truth. Instead I reach for the carton. Concentrate on pouring half and half into my cup while I finish it. “I don’t trust you. I don’t trust this.” I stab my fork at the plate in front of me. “The way you are with Molly. How devoted you are to Cari.” Looking up at him I shake my head. “It’s not the real you. It can’t be.”
He considers me for a second, his green eyes flicking over my face like he’s assessing me. Sizing me up. Finally he speaks. “Okay.”
Okay.
Okay?
I basically just called him a liar to his face and all he has to say is okay?
Seriously?
Before I can ask him what the hell okay is supposed to mean, Patrick laughs and shakes his head at me. “I asked for the truth and I got it.” He shrugs before lifting his cup to him mouth to take a drink. “I’d be a hypocritical asshole if I got mad just because I don’t like what you have to say.”
That pretty much takes the wind out of my sails. I sit here for a few moments, watching him drink coffee before I say anything else. “I am grateful though. For your willingness to put up with us.”
“Put up with you?” He cocks his head at me like he has no idea what I’m talking about.
“Well, yeah.” Focusing on the pancakes in front of me, I use the side of my fork to cut into the stack. They’re cold and soggy but as a mother, I’m used to it. I can’t remember last time I enjoyed a fresh, hot meal that didn’t come out of a fast food bag. And even then, the fresh and hot is debatable. “And I promise it’s not forever. As soon as—”
“You and Molly aren’t going anywhere.” He sets his mug down. “Not until you’re ready.”
“I don’t want to be a burden.” I stuff a lump of cold pancake into my mouth and start to chew. It’s pretty much my worst nightmare. That Molly and I become a millstone around someone’s neck. “I’ll cook and clean. I can run errands and do laundry.”
“What a coincidence—I can do those things too.” He laughs and shakes his head at me. “You’re family, Grace—not an indentured servant.” He pushed the something toward me. a set of keys. underneath it is what looks like a credit card. He might as well have shoved a dead rat at me. The look on my face must show it because he laughs again. “It’s a used Kia Soul, not a Maserati.”
“And a…” I lean in closer to get a good look at the rest of it. “An Amex black card?” I feel a little sick to my stomach. “With my name on it?” I sit back, my ass hitting the stool so hard it jars my spine. I just offered myself up as a live-in maid. Instead of taking me up on it, he basically just told me thanks, but no thanks and on top of it, he gives me a new car and a seemingly unlimited expense account? What the fuck is happening here? “I can’t accept this.”
Patrick flashes me his dimples. “The car or the card?”
“Either one.” I shake my head, my jaw set at a stubborn angle. “I can’t.”
He pushes them toward me. “Sure you can,” he says, sighing a bit when I keep shaking my head. “It’s only money, Grace.”
“It’s only money?” I feel my internal temperature start to rise. “You know who says things like that? People who have money.”
He sighs again. “Look—” Clearly agitated, he swipes a rough hand over his face. “You don’t have to trust me. You don’t even have to like me—but you and Moll, you’re family now.” He frowns at me, like he’s not sure I’m understanding him correctly. Like maybe he’s not explaining it right. “We take care of each other—whatever it takes.”
“With new cars and credit cards?” I sound ungrateful. Bitchy. Even though I hate myself for it, I can’t seem to turn it off.
H smiles again, giving me a crooked grin I’ve seen before. “There are definite perks to being a Gilroy.”
I’m not a Gilroy.
Before I can say it out loud, Molly comes bounding down the hallway in a pair of hot pink leggings and a bright yellow sweater with orange stars on it. When he sees her, he shifts his attention from me to her. “Guess what, Moll,” he says while she climbs her way onto the stool next to me. “Your mom got a new car—a yellow one.”
Butt plopped in the seat, she turns and stares at me with wide eyes. “Really?” She bounces a little in her seat, unable to contain her excitement. “Yellow is my favorite color!”
“I know.” He sets a plate of pancakes in front of her with a flourish. “Guess what else?” He looks at me and I catch a glimpse of the not-so-nice guy who likes to get his way and isn’t above manipulation to make it happen. “Your mom is going to take you shopping for things to decorate your new bedroom today.”
Now her jaw drops completely. We’ve been sharing a room since she was born. “I get my own room?” She squeals and claps her hands. “Can I get pony sheets? and maybe a blanket too.” Giving me a pleading look, her mouth suddenly drops open as if something just occurred to her. “Can I get new shoes? With laces and not baby Velcro straps?”
Table of Contents
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