Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story) (7 page)

“In the bar scene
, yes, but there are lots of everyday people here who work hard and play when they can,” Ryan said.

Our
last evening spent with Ryan and Pat was calm in comparison to the past week. We sat and talked by the fire and then decided to grab some dinner across the street. When we got ready to go, Ryan went to get his jacket. When he returned, he had a black cowboy hat on, looking even more handsome, in a mysterious type of way.

“Wow
, look at you,” Liz said. “You’re a cowboy too? How come we haven’t seen you in your hat before?”

I wondered what it was about a cowboy hat that made a man look more attractive to me. I certainly wasn’t a big cowboy type of girl.

“Do you have a ranch, with horses and cows that you haven’t told us about?” I teased.

“I wish, I guess I’m a wannabe cowboy
. No ranch, no animals, just the boots and the hat for now,” Ryan said with a grin.

I think we had put him on the s
pot because he shifted as if he was embarrassed.

“Looks good on you,” I
said with a flirtatious look.

             
We walked across the street to a restaurant called the Irish Camel, which served Mexican food and killer margaritas. Pat told some funny stories about tourists, while Liz and I rehashed moments of our trip, and we laughed a lot. We ended the evening back at The Club dancing until midnight. I had come across another man who was willing to dance and obviously enjoyed it and it made me think of Randy and the accident. I reached back to feel the scar on my head. I dragged Ryan out on the dance floor more than once. I loved his smile and his ability to go with the flow.

Worn out, Liz and I tried to sleep on the plane ride home. My head kept rolling to the side though jolting me awake, even though my eyes felt so heavy. We weren’t looking forward to getting back, although we certainly needed a break from the partying.

Max
and Dave picked us up at the airport and took us to dinner that night, happy to have us home. Liz and I would have been thrilled to just go home and fall into bed, but we did our best to not let the boys know we were exhausted. I fell asleep in the car while Max drove us to his house.

“Morgan
,” he said, shaking me slightly. “Come on, I’ll get you to bed.”

When he walked me into his hous
e, it smelled the same, looked the same, and then it hit me. That was the change I needed, the other side of the river, like my analogy; the one the night of the accident. I took a deep breath and Max looked at me with a confused expression. I looked around his living room; even the newspapers were still stacked in the corner, his coffee mug from this morning on the side table. I had to step off the shore if I ever wanted to get to the other side. If I wanted to know, I had to cross the river. I needed to go back to Park City.

Chapter 6

“I talked to Pat last night. He said you and Liz had a good time,” Mom said casually when I came home the next morning.

Max
had gone off to golf early, and all I could think about was crawling in my own bed and sleeping. She was unloading the dishwasher and I crawled up on a barstool.

“We had a great time.
The skiing was fantastic—Park City Mountain where Pat works was huge, and we never got bored. Pat had us ski there so he could meet us for a couple runs every day during his break. Park City’s such a quaint little town, Mom. I fell in love with it,” I said excitedly.

She raised her head in surprise
at my tone and smiled at me.

             
“Slow down and tell me everything,” she chuckled.

“
When you get off the freeway, it doesn’t look like much. One gas station is what greets you and then you drive about ten minutes into downtown where Main Street is, and it’s all cozy, nestled in an uphill canyon. These old-fashioned buildings climb the street, and they are so cool, like that Clint Eastwood movie where he paints the town red, but even cooler. I had this weird feeling like I’d come home when Pat took us there. Like that’s where I belong,” I went on.

“Park City?” she asked
, astonished.

“Yes,
I have no idea why, but I felt the town tug at my heart,” I said. “I was actually jealous of Pat. Like he’s there and I’m not.”

She finished putting the last of the glasses away and shut the dishwasher. She put her hands on the counter and looked across at me.

“Sounds like you and Liz hit the town pretty hard at night,” she said with a smile.

“What did
Pat tell you?” I asked.

I wondered what Pat had told her, which “being bad” story he’d revealed.

“Exactly that, that you two hit it pretty hard,” she teased.

I laughed
heartedly.

“
Coming from Mr. Party himself, that’s funny. We went out every night. Are you kidding, two single girls in a cowboy town with lots of boys? Of course we’re out partying. No Max, no Dave telling us what to do. We were the crazy California girls. It was fun to have new boys to hang with; we laughed so much. No serious stuff, no games, no fighting,” I said with a happy sigh.

“Seems you
shouldn’t have so much to fight about,” she said. “You and Max are too young to have so many battles, don’t you think?”

“Isn’t that what couples do?
” I asked, curious.

She tilted her head and gave me an ex
asperated look.

“Morgan
, it is not what couples should do, not constantly,” she said.

She was holding back, trying not to tell me, trying to make me see for myself instead. I had seen though, she just didn’t know it yet.

“I want to go back, Mom. I think I want to make this change, but I need to be sure. I really think Park City is what the accident and the Mathew tryst was driving me toward, to make a radical change,” I said.

Her lips trembled as she smiled at me.
I knew it was twofold, she was excited for the idea of change for me, but she was conflicted that it meant I’d be moving away, a long ways away from her.

Catching up at school kept me buried for weeks, and it was too easy to fall back into the routine with Max. But my heart wasn’t in it. Liz was good at listening to my thoughts; she agreed that it was important to go back a second time to make sure it was what I really wanted. She played devils advocate as to living and working in Park City versus our vacation time. Mostly though she encouraged, she thought a change would do me good. I wasn’t discussing anything with Max about what I was thinking.

Liz and I
were sitting in a booth on the second floor of our favorite Mexican restaurant, The Rio, in Del Mar, again talking about my upcoming March trip with Mom.

“I’m so excited to go back.
Enthusiastic about the possibility of moving there next winter.”

Inside me the butterflies swirled and twirled with a nervous excitement.

“It sounds like you’ve already decided,” she chuckled.

“In a way
, yes, but I want to make sure I am making a good decision, not just doing it for flight reasons,” I said.

“Flight reasons?”
Liz asked confused.

I leaned forward pondering my explanation.

“Running away,” I answered reaching for a chip. “You know Max will tell me how stupid it is. Although I think it would be an easy final out for him. I think we’ve just been going through the motions for a while. Hell, I don’t know, maybe that’s what love is, getting comfortable and going through the motions,” I said.

I dipped the chip in salsa and took a bite, it was warm and salty, the salsa spicy, but not too hot.

“Bullshit,” Liz said, taking a sip of her margarita. “Bullshit.”

The way she said it the second time was like she was trying to convince herself as well.
She too had her reservations about what love was, her and Dave certainly didn’t have what she deemed the perfect situation.

“I talk
to Pat on the phone a lot, and he’s still loving living in Park City. I want to be there. I’ve always followed the expected path: go to school, get good grades, go to college, have a boyfriend. I want desperately to deviate from it,” I said.

“Then
just do it,” Liz said. “I really think you should, if not you’ll always wonder. You can always come home.”

March came quickly, and I was headed back to Park City with Mom. I would miss Liz for the skiing part as Mom had given that up years ago. The bar scene was another story; she loved a good bar as much as I did, and I asked Pat to take us to The Club. He had already put the word out to his friends that I was coming back to town. Once again, when I got onto Main Street, I had the feeling that I was home. It was weird, a good weird.

It was
snowing outside when we got to The Club, and we grabbed a couple ottomans by the fire, enjoying the warmth of it. The bartender, I think I remembered his name was Andy, came and stirred the fire and threw on more wood.

“
Back so soon?” he asked smiling at me.

I wondered if it was the fire calling or he just wanted to flirt a little.

“Yeah, well I got invited to join my mom on her visit out. Kind of hard to pass up when she’s paying,” I teased. “This is my mom, Patty. It’s Andy, right?”

“Andy,” he confirmed reaching his hand out to Mom.

“Nice to meet you,” she said smiling.

I could tell Pat was a little bored with the niceties.

“Long Islands?” Pat asked.

I winked at him and he headed towards the bar.

“Long Island?” Mom questioned.

“It’s a drink,” Andy volunteered

“Try it, Mom. You’ll like it,” I said, encouraging her.

Pat
was standing at the bar when I saw Ryan crest the stairs. He stopped and searched the bar, looking for us. He looked attractive in his jeans, button-down shirt, cowboy boots, and his cowboy hat. Liz and I had called it his going-out attire. When he saw me, he smiled and headed in our direction. I stood up and hugged him. Even though I hadn’t known him very long, it felt like I had. Like we’d shared some memorable, important times together. When I let him go, he took off his hat and shook out his hair a bit where the hat had pushed it down.

“Hey, Ryan,” Andy said as he departed towards the bar.

Ryan smiled at him, lifting his chin slightly in acknowledgement.

“
Ryan, this is my mom, Patty,” I said, introducing her.

“Nice to meet you
, Ryan,” Mom said excitedly.

I knew she felt like she was on a big adventure.
With her two kids, two of her favorite people, a new place, and no husband.

“
Morgan, get one of these,” Pat called out as he made his way back from the bar, juggling the three drinks.

I
pried one out of his fingers and helped him get a handle on the other two.

“How’s it going
, Ryan?” Pat asked as he handed Mom her Long Island.

“
Starting her off with the light stuff, I see,” Ryan chuckled.

“Ah, she’s practiced, won’t faze her.”

“Don’t tell her what’s in it,” I teased. “See if she can tell.”

The three of us watched as she took a sip.

“It’s tasty,” she said, fumbling in her purse for her cigarettes—the two went hand in hand for her.

She found the pack and pulled it out before she took another sip.

“Um, maybe vodka, lemonade, and then something else?”

“Go easy on those
, Patty, they’re all alcohol,” Ryan warned.

She set her drink down and lit her cigarette
with her lighter.

“Am I close?”

“Sort of,” Pat said. “Tastes like that, but it’s all booze, five ounces of it.”

Her eyebrow went up as s
he took a drag and then blew the smoke toward the fireplace. She tried to keep it away from me because she knew I didn’t like it.

“I’m going to
grab a beer,” Ryan said, starting to get up.

“Sit, sit
,” Pat said, turning back towards the bar. “I’ll get it.”

“Back for round two
, are you?” he asked, looking at me. “Round two of Park City.”

“I guess.
I like it here. Mom was coming to visit Pat, and I got to tag along,” I said.

  I’d asked her not to say anything about the possibility I might move here. I needed time to make my decision.
He smiled at me and his eyes danced in the firelight.

“Ryan
, what brought you to Park City?” Mom asked.

“It’s a long story
,” he answered turning to look at her.

“I’ve got the time,” she said seriously.

I laughed. We talked by the fire for several hours. Mom was full of questions for Ryan. Ryan answered her and every now and then got up to throw a log on the fire—he’d taken over Andy’s job. I sat back and listened. Ryan was raised in upstate New York on a farm. Out of four boys, he was the only one who had left his small hometown. He wanted more.

“
So you just up and left after graduation?” Mom asked.

“Yeah, needed a change, wanted to experience other places,” Ryan said.

Mom looked at me with a slight grin.

“
So were did you go?”

He started out
in Florida because he knew people there and got a job at a charter jet company. He worked as a lineman moving, fueling, and cleaning planes. Being around the airport gave him the desire to fly, so he started working on obtaining his pilot’s license.

“That’s cool,” Pat said.

“It was cool, flying was so fun, sad I had to give it up,” Ryan said regretfully. “Maybe someday I’ll finish what I started there. It’s just so expensive.”

T
here was a vague mention of a girl that he had dated. She was the daughter of the owner of the company he’d worked for. After he’d given up flying a buddy talked him into moving to Virginia and starting a construction company.

“So wait,”
Mom said, “you went from learning to fly to construction?”

I sat listening, interested in Ryan’s own adventure in leaving home.

“Well, I sort of always had done construction, even when I was young. Housing was booming, and my buddy had contacts in Virginia. Line men don’t make much money, and the money was going to be better in building,” Ryan said.

I almost
laughed because she kept peppering him with questions. Her lack of social interaction was being unleashed on Ryan, and he was being so patient.

“So your girlfriend went to Virginia
with you, but didn’t stay long,” Mom pondered.

“She missed her family too much. I’d partnered in a business so it wasn’t easy for me to just pick up again and leave.”

He talked about leaving Virginia when the economy crashed, interest rates had gone through the roof, the housing market was bad and the business was failing.

“Can I get
you guys another round?” the waitress interrupted.

“Sure,” I answered for everyone.

Mom pulled out a cigarette, and Ryan politely lit it for her. I watched as she took a drag. I had smoked when I was younger, experimenting I guess, but I couldn’t stand it now. The thought of sucking that smoke into your lungs; I wished she didn’t smoke.

“So w
hen the business went under, you came to Park City?” Mom asked.

I was starting to feel bad for R
yan; she was loving the conversation, but I thought she might be making him uncomfortable.

“Mom
, give him a break,” I exclaimed.