Along for the Ride (22 page)
‘Ryan, you know whatever happens we’ll still be friends,’ Kat assured him.
‘I know. I just can’t talk about her. My heart can’t take any more.’ He stopped flipping through the phonebook and gave a meaningful look to where her hand rubbed her stomach. ‘When you are ready to talk about it . . .’
‘I’ll call.’ Kat nodded. Though it was small, he saw her give him the first real smile he’d seen since Megan blurted her secret.
‘Don’t torture Megan too long over it. She does feel bad.’
‘She should.’ Kat sighed. ‘I thought you didn’t care.’
‘I’m really trying not to.’ Ryan reached for the phone. ‘You’ll ask Zoe for the car?’
‘Yeah, if you are sure.’
‘No.’ Ryan glanced up the stairwell. Megan still had not come down. He hoped that she’d stop him, say she was sorry. She didn’t. ‘I’m not, but she is.’
‘Is there something you need to tell us, Megan?’ Beatrice said, eyeing her eldest daughter.
Megan glanced at her mother, not answering as she went to the refrigerator to grab a beer. It was early to begin drinking, but, if ever there was a time she wanted to be drunk, now, during her family’s inquisition as to why Ryan just drove off in the middle of their vacation, was it.
A very tiny part of her didn’t expect him to actually leave. The larger, more pragmatic part of her nature suspected he would. After the show of packing, he’d be too proud to stay unless she begged him. Megan wasn’t the type of woman to beg. But, even so, a ripple of doubt and regret shuddered through her as she watched him drive away. Their eyes locked for the briefest of seconds when he put the car into gear. He didn’t say a word, having already said his goodbyes to her family as she hid in her room, resting on the bed next to the case file.
She wanted to believe he wouldn’t ruin the reputation he’d made so public, but there was no way to be sure. With anyone else, Megan always seemed to just know. But, with Ryan, she couldn’t always predict what he would do, or what he wanted. He took her by surprise and that wasn’t something she knew how to handle.
‘Megan?’ her mother insisted.
‘Nope, can’t think of anything.’ She opened the beer bottle by hitting the cap against the edge of the counter so it popped off.
‘Did you two have a fight?’ Beatrice’s voice rose and fell in confusion. ‘I just don’t understand. Is it something we did?’
‘I don’t think she wants to talk about it, Mom,’ Sasha said softly. ‘Let’s just leave her alone.’
‘This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen,’ Beatrice insisted. ‘I read the tea leaves and . . .’ Stopping she glanced around, as if she’d said too much.
‘No, Mom, it wasn’t you.’ Megan wasn’t in the mood to hear about her mother’s stupid tea leaves. Life could not be predicted by a drink. ‘It wasn’t anything. He just needed to go back. He had to work.’
‘But . . .’ Beatrice looked helplessly around.
Megan walked towards the deck. ‘I need some air. I’ll be outside.’
As she shut the door, she heard her mother say, ‘But that’s not what Ryan said. He said the engagement was off.’
Megan froze. He’d told her family the truth? Well, part of the truth anyway. Stiffly, she walked across the deck to the railing.
‘I don’t get you.’
Megan spun round, startled, nearly dropping her beer as she saw Kat sitting on a chair near the side of the cabin. She’d been hidden from view from within. ‘What do you mean?’
‘When did you become so cold?’ Kat stood and crossed to join her at the rail. They looked out over the prairie to the distant mountains, but the distance had lost its beauty.
‘Shit, Kat, is this about your damned pregnancy? I’m sorry I said anything. I’m sorry I stole your moment of glory. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!’ Megan hit the bottom of her beer bottle down on the wooden rail to punctuate her words.
‘Don’t give me that sarcastic apology crap. I know you don’t mean it and it’s insulting.’ Kat touched her stomach. ‘And did you really call this my moment of glory? There was no moment. Do you think I want to be pregnant?’
Kat gasped. Megan froze, her eyes round as she turned to her sister. Kat had her hand over her mouth as she stared forwards.
‘I . . .’ Kat shook her head. ‘I didn’t mean that.’
‘Yes, you did.’ Megan saw the hesitant truth on her sister’s face. It was so clear to her she had to wonder if it had been there all along. Maybe if she hadn’t been so wrapped up in Ryan and her sex life, she’d have seen it sooner.
‘I didn’t fully mean it,’ Kat whispered. ‘Omigod, don’t tell Vincent I said I didn’t want to be pregnant. Please, Megan, don’t tell him. He won’t understand. He’ll think I don’t want to have his baby. He’ll think I have doubts about our marriage, about my love for him. He won’t understand.’
‘I won’t say anything, I promise.’ Megan touched her arm.
Kat jerked back. ‘Don’t think that makes what you did OK.’
‘I said I’m sorry.’
‘Did you say you’re sorry to Ryan?’ Kat put her hands on her hips. ‘And, if you did, did you say it like you meant it?’
‘I don’t want to talk about Ryan.’ Megan took a long drink of her beer, gasping slightly at the bubbly feeling in her throat. ‘What about you and not wanting this baby? Want to discuss that?’
‘My situation is not that simple, but no. I don’t feel like telling you right now. I’m still irritated with you for telling the rest of the family. I don’t know that I’ve forgiven you.’
‘Well, I’m irritated with you for encouraging Ryan and I don’t know that I’ve forgiven you for that.’
‘Fine.’ Kat put her hand on the rail and stared forwards.
‘Fine.’ Megan agreed, as she too looked into the distance. She knew Kat’s anger towards her was just a projection of her own insecurity over her pregnancy, an insecurity that would be fixed with a little time in Vincent’s arms as her sister got used to the idea of being a mother. Once that happened, Kat would attack motherhood with the same fierce dedication she did everything in her life. Figuring out Kat was easy enough. Then why couldn’t she figure out Ryan? Why was he so difficult?
They didn’t say another word, embracing their mutual need for silent contemplation. Kat would come to her, when she was ready, not before. To force a conversation would only do more harm to their recently strained relationship. Sometimes, as sisters, the easiest things to hear were the ones that weren’t said.
East Village, New York City, New York
The late hour cast dark shadows over the brick front of his apartment building, but Ryan didn’t hurry inside, feeling almost as if he’d truly lost once the last leg of his journey home was over. He promised himself when he left for Montana that he would give his heart until the vacation was over before letting his mind take over. By walking in that front door, the vacation would be officially over.
A soft flick sounded, only a little louder than the surrounding city. Even though the street looked barren for the most part, no one was every really alone in the city – at least not physically. There were always eight million other people around to fill the void. Ryan wasn’t surprised by the sound, or by the temporary glow of fire from a lighter, shining like a tiny beacon in the shadows. A figure moved, one he didn’t notice before in his contemplation. The flame turned into a bright hot speck of light, dancing in the night, evidence of a burning cigarette.
‘I saw you walking down the street.’ Diederick’s accent gave him away as he spoke in low tones. ‘I thought I’d wait to join you.’
As Diederick stepped into the streetlight, he dropped his cigarette hand slightly, the other hand was thrust in his pocket as he strolled forwards. He looked like a television commercial – an elegant mysterious man in a tux and white scarf, slowly puffing on a cigarette in a world where troubles did not exist. Ryan wanted to live in that uncomplicated world.
‘I’ve been here for at least five minutes,’ Ryan answered. ‘You were hiding all this time?’
‘More like ten,’ Diederick corrected. ‘But I did not wish to disturb you.’
‘Oh?’
‘You look at this place like it represents the end of the world.’ Diederick motioned to the front of their apartment building. ‘I come here to escape the end.’
Ryan arched a brow, glancing up and down over his friend’s rich attire. ‘Yeah, looks like you are in hell.’
‘I’ve been in the States long enough to know this sarcasm.’ Diederick laughed. ‘And hell comes in many forms. What form is yours?’
‘A woman.’
‘Ah, the worst kind.’ Diederick nodded. ‘What she do? Try to make you her little,
ah, futzä-schläcker?
ah, futzä-schläcker?
‘Her what?’
‘Futzä-schläcker.
How you say, the dog on the lap, always licking the ladies’ ah . . .’ Diederick motioned down to his crotch.
How you say, the dog on the lap, always licking the ladies’ ah . . .’ Diederick motioned down to his crotch.
‘I’m going to pretend that does not translate right,’ Ryan said dryly.
Diederick chuckled, waving his cigarette back and forth. ‘So then she tried to light fire on you?’
Ryan frowned, confused.
‘Light you . . .’ He muttered to himself in his native tongue. ‘Ah . . .’
‘You mean arouse me with sex?’ Ryan asked, giving a small laugh.
‘No,’ his friend shook his head, ‘with the, ah, match and the fire and burning.’ He reached into his pocket and flipped the top of his fine engraved silver cigarette lighter. As it flamed, he motioned towards Ryan. ‘Put fire on you.’
‘Ah, no, she didn’t try to murder me,’ Ryan said.
‘Then I would not worry. There is still hope.’ Diederick put the lighter back. ‘Only when they try to kill you do you start to think, maybe she is not the one for me to love, no?’
Ryan laughed, despite his tired jet-lagged state and sour depressed mood.
‘See, it can always be worse,’ Diederick said.
‘So, you had a woman try to light you on fire?’
‘
Ja
, a couple times.’ Diederick threw his cigarette down and stepped on the end. ‘In some countries, it’s not so illegal as it is here in America.’
Ja
, a couple times.’ Diederick threw his cigarette down and stepped on the end. ‘In some countries, it’s not so illegal as it is here in America.’
‘I’d ask what you did to them –’ Ryan picked his bag off the ground and began walking inside ‘– but I’m too tired to hear the story right now.’
‘Another time, then,’ Diederick agreed. ‘And you must tell me what it is this woman did to make you be in hell.’
‘I would, but, as soon as I step through that door, it’s over. And I plan on never thinking about her again. I’m putting it all behind me and moving on.’
Diederick didn’t answer, only laughed as he held open the door. Ryan thought he’d feel different at the official end of his pursuit of Megan, but he merely felt worse. All hope he’d carried was gone, vanished as he passed the threshold. He’d given everything he had the last year to win her and it wasn’t good enough.
He
wasn’t good enough. The loss of a dream, his dream of her, was a painful lump to swallow, but swallow he did. It was time to move on with his life.
He
wasn’t good enough. The loss of a dream, his dream of her, was a painful lump to swallow, but swallow he did. It was time to move on with his life.
‘Do you know what you need?’ Diederick asked, as they walked up the stairs single file. ‘You need to purge this woman from you. We should find you a prostitute to do this.’
‘I doubt there is a woman in this city who could draw my interest,’ Ryan said. It wasn’t a lie. Megan was still in Montana with her family. ‘I think I’m done with all women for a while.’
‘That is sad,’ Diederick said. ‘Then you must come with me to Romania. We will take my father’s jet. I know this place.’
‘Ugh, don’t mention flying.’ Ryan’s head spun just thinking of it.
‘Drink the orange juice and it’ll be better. In four days we will leave. I have business in Germany.’
‘I thought you said Romania.’
‘The place I know is in Romania, but my business is in Germany.’ Diederick shrugged when Ryan looked back at him, as if the two countries were just right around the corner from each other. They’d made it down the hall to Ryan’s door. As Ryan made a move to walk inside, Diederick slapped him on the back. ‘Don’t worry, my friend. You will enjoy it!’
He shut the door. Once again alone, the small smile faded from Ryan’s face. He set his bag on the floor, mindful of his camera he’d tucked inside during the car ride from the airport. Not bothering to unpack, he walked towards his bedroom, too tired to even shower. As he moved to lie down, he swiped at the picture of Megan on his dresser, knocking it into the trash without daring to gaze at the likeness of her pretty face. Tomorrow he would purge her image from his home and his heart, but tonight, he just wanted to sleep and never wake up.
Chapter Eleven
One week later . . .
The second week of vacation was a far cry from the first and Megan discovered that there was a limit to spending consecutive time with her family cooped up in the same house – especially when all of the sisters seemed to be in a bad mood. Zoe was fighting her boss. Sasha, they discovered in a strange outburst, had a problem with a boyfriend they never knew existed. Bickering and snide remarks had been prevalent, especially at the end. Oddly, their mother seemed to enjoy it, making comments about how it was just like when they were kids.
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