Authors: Tina Reber
“
Billions!” I quickly replied.
“
Really? Help me drag a mattress out into the front yard. You can sell lemonade and I’ll just fuck people all day!” he cackled.
The baby crawled over to Ryan and whacked him in the head with a wooden block.
“
Ow!” He rubbed his forehead. “You’re right, Sarah. That was a bad idea. Uncle Ryan’s junk will fall off if I did that all day.”
She crawled onto his chest and slapped him a few times in the face.
“
Hey! Why are you beating me up? Huh? Do I have a potty mouth? Go beat up Aunt Taryn – she’s the one who’s being silly.” He picked her up in his hands and pressed her up into the air.
Ryan sat Sarah on the floor and rolled to his side.
“
Sarah?” Ryan whispered a whole bunch of nonsense in her ear. “Tell her!”
Ryan used his finger to make Sarah’s bottom lip move. His voice changed to a high pitch. “Uncle Ryan says he’s done sowing so you can just chill.”
Ryan whispered in her ear again. “Uncle Ryan says you have to be married first before you have babies. And I stink so you should change me.”
“
Give her to me,” I requested, reaching out for her.
I lay Sarah on the floor between my legs and grabbed the diaper bag. Ryan turned on the television, stopping on a channel just in time to hear some announcer say his name.
“
Today on CTV…”
“
We got Ryan Christensen in the airport in Providence with his new girlfriend.”
Large graphics streamed across the screen and the announcer’s voice came back. Different embarrassing pictures of Ryan were flashed between the verbal comments. “Keep your panties on
Seaside
fans! Just when you thought you saw it all – Ryan Christensen eats – Ryan Christensen picks his nose – Ryan Christensen sits in a car – we bring you…”
“
We caught him feeling himself up.”
Video of Ryan patting his front and back jeans pockets when we were in the airport in Providence was shown on the screen.
“
What’s up with this guy?” the obvious show host asked.
“
I don’t know but our camera guy caught him feeling himself up before he went through the metal detectors,” some young guy answered.
“
Feeling himself up?” the host questioned.
“
Yeah, he was searching his pockets and stuff. I mean what idiot goes to the airport with change in their pockets!”
The video of Ryan patting his pockets now included me in the shot.
“
Do we know who the girl is? Is she an actress?” The host circled my picture on his video screen.
“
Her name is Taryn Mitchell. She owns a bar or something in Rhode Island.”
They showed old, random photos of Ryan with different drinks in his hand, pretty much accusing him of having a drinking problem.
“
Wow, that’s impressive! Are
all
the girls in Hollywood dead?” the host sneered.
Everyone on the television screen laughed.
“
I’m sure his fans hate her!” one woman commented.
A clip from an old black and white movie was shown. All the townspeople had torches and pitchforks.
Another girl chimed in. “She’s a lot prettier than Suzanne Strass, I think.”
“
Yeah, and she can help him turn into another celebrity alcoholic!” some other man bantered.
“
Our camera guy asked him if they’re officially a couple but he didn’t say anything. He’s dragging her through the airport by the hand. I mean, isn’t it obvious? I don’t know why he just doesn’t admit it. She’s not his wardrobe consultant that’s for sure!”
The picture refocused on me, on my face, and then zoomed in on Ryan holding my fingers as we walked through the airport. Sound bites of women crying were added in. The segment ended with repeat shots of Ryan feeling his back pockets and one more close-up of him shoving his hand in his front pocket. They even threw in sound effects of women moaning when Ryan patted himself down.
I let out a sigh and lifted Sarah up so I could fix her yellow tights over her new diaper. I gave her a few kisses on her forehead while she played with my heart necklace.
Ryan turned the television off and threw the remote onto the couch behind me. He looked like he just got punched in the stomach.
I reached out to him. We were both upset from seeing that garbage on TV. Ryan slowly moved to sit next to me on the floor. We leaned back on the couch and looked at each other. Ryan rested his arm behind me, combing his fingers into my hair; his other hand gently rubbed through Sarah’s little brown curls. He sighed heavily and I knew he was agitated.
I leaned over and kissed his lips, just to let him know that everything would be all right. His fingers tensed and pressed into my scalp, holding my kiss tenderly to his. His lips were troubled.
I wondered which one of us would crack from the bullshit first.
I spent the rest of the afternoon helping his mom in the kitchen. She was preparing a feast for Thanksgiving and I wondered just exactly who she thought was going to eat all of it. I handled making the brine for the turkey. His mom watched me intently as I mixed the concoction.
I was standing at the sink when Ryan came up behind me, holding me in place again with his long arms. He brushed my hair off my shoulder and drifted the tip of his nose up and down my neck. I tried to keep the volume of my moan turned down.
“
As much as it warms my heart to see my son happy and in love, get the hell away from my helper,” Ellen squealed.
“
You’ve had her long enough, Mom. We’ve got to go get ready for the game. Our car will be here in an hour.”
Soon after Nick and Janelle arrived, the sleek black stretch limousine pulled into the driveway. The four of us were going to the game together; Ryan’s parents were watching Sarah for the evening.
“
You should come home more often!” Nick teased Ryan, noting that the limo was fully stocked with beer, liquor, and two bottles of champagne. Janelle was preoccupied; eventually she pulled a magazine out of her purse.
“
Here, I thought you two might want to keep this one!” she teased and tossed the glossy paper onto Ryan’s lap.
Ryan took a sip off of the champagne bottle he and I were sharing and narrowed his eyes on the cover. He handed me the bottle and turned the little light on above his head so he could get a better look.
Ryan and I were on the cover – the entire cover. We were both dressed up and it was apparent to me that the photo was taken on the night we took his parents to dinner. The caption below our bodies read “Ryan’s in love!” Next to our photo were several side notes under the bold letters “Ryan Christensen shows off new girlfriend.” The additions informed the world that he was living with me in our “Love nest in RI” and that he had introduced me to his parents.
“
Well, at least it’s a nice picture of us!” Ryan stated indifferently.
“
The story isn’t bad either,” Janelle added. “I thought it was something you might want to keep, you know.” She looked unsure.
Ryan handed it to me with a smirky grin on his lips. “I’m sure you want to read it.”
I set the magazine down next to me on the seat and took another sip of champagne from the bottle. I could only imagine the horrible things that were said about me in there. It would only take seeing one negative comment about either one of us to send me into my own downward spiral.
Ryan gave me a perplexed look. He presumed I would have ripped the magazine open immediately, dying to know what was written.
“
I’m not reading that now. I’d rather not cry my eyes out before a hockey game,” I whispered.
“
Why?” Janelle asked. “It’s not bad. Really!”
I disagreed. “I just know there are lies printed in it. There always are. I’ve been blamed for breaking him and Suzanne up, for causing rifts on set between the actors. They print that I’m keeping him from seeing all of his friends. I even lost out on the national poll on which girl the public would rather see him with. Suzanne won with 72%.”
I rubbed my cheek, trying to keep from getting upset.
“
Well there’s nothing like that in this one,” Janelle admitted.
“
I’m sure there is,” I muttered, pushing the magazine further away. It was the paper version of poison to me. “Every one of these writers seems to have the need to get at least one good dig in. I don’t understand why they feel I’m not good enough.”
“
Honey! Who gives a shit what they write?” Ryan stated. “I sure don’t.”
“
Let me see it,” Nick asked. “I’ll tell you whether or not it’s safe to read.”
He quickly thumbed through the magazine, stopping to flash us the large interior picture of Ryan and me walking down my sidewalk, obviously ignoring the paparazzi.
“
Oh my God!” Nick looked over the top of the magazine. “It says here that you forced my brother to learn how to make stained glass picture frames! Is this true?” He looked horrified.
Ryan laughed at his brother’s antics.
“
I have to admit, that one is true.” I nodded.
“
Does it say anything about her being mostly naked when she subjected me to a day of arts and crafts and power tools?” Ryan asked. All of a sudden his interest was piqued. “Are there pictures too, ‘cause I
want
those!”
“
No, no pictures like that,” Nick stated. He resumed reading.
“
What’s this? You…” he gasped, holding his shaky fingers in front of his mouth to emphasize his fright. “You bake birthday cakes - and then you had the audacity to make my parents eat it?” His voice changed to a high pitch to sound like he was crying and he cringed. “How could you?”
Ryan gave me a teasing shove. “Yeah Taryn! How could you?”
I hung my head down. “I’m sorry. I have no excuse for my actions,” I whispered.
“
No champagne for you!” Ryan took the bottle from my hand.
“
She even begged us to come to some birthday party in Rhode Island. We’re lucky I was traveling last week or else she would have subjected Janelle and me to more of these horrors!” Nick focused back on the magazine.
Nick made me jump slightly when he gasped loudly. “Tell the limo driver to stop. We have to kick Taryn out. It says right here she’s just using my brother for sex.”
Ryan sat up quickly. “That’s true! She forces me to…” He covered his eyes with the champagne bottle and pretended to cry, slumping back into the seat. “All the time!” he wailed. “And she beats me too! She says ‘you get naked and get in that bed or I’ll give you something to
really
cry about mister.’ I mean, I’m only human. I’m not a machine.”
“
Janelle beats me all the time,” Nick cried. “I feel so used.”
“
You wish!” she laughed.
“
I don’t know about you Janelle, but if I have to pick up his dirty socks and underwear I want something in return!” I defended.
“
I know!” she agreed. “The Christensen scent sure doesn’t smell like roses.”
“
Hey, we take pride in our scent!” Ryan argued.
“
If your fans only knew…” I replied. “Maybe they wouldn’t be standing so close to our doors.”
“
I thought your fans were too busy kissing their
Seaside
pillowcases to travel all the way to Rhode Island,” Janelle teased.
“
Go ahead and laugh, Janelle. I’m laughing all the way to the bank.”
“
Pillowcases?” I questioned. I had no idea what she was talking about.
“
And bed sheets! Now girls all around the globe can sleep with Charles at night!” Janelle laughed.
“
I dry humped
my
Charles pillow just last night,” Nick chortled, making obscene gestures.
Ryan threw the champagne cork at him. I gathered Ryan didn’t like that last dig, because Ryan threw the cork with some force. Nick flinched away, smiling.
“
I used the real Ryan Christensen as a sex toy last night,” I whispered in Ryan’s direction, trying to keep him in a good mood.
Ryan gave me a high-five and winked at me. “Damn straight! And then I sprayed you with my personal scent to keep the other animals away!”
Our limo drove past the main entrance to the arena, but the driver didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t know where to drop us? We ended up stopping in the back of the arena near a few large buses. The driver opened Ryan’s door and we headed towards a private entrance. Ryan took me by the hand; I drew in a deep breath and followed him towards the back door. Ryan Christensen would never again enter through the front doors of any place like a regular person.
Two arena employees were waiting for us, obviously aware that we were coming. We were escorted into an elevator that took us to the upper deck where all the private suites were located.
“
Whose suite is this?” Nick asked.
“
The bank I deal with has it rented for the season,” Ryan answered. “They gave up four of their tickets for us, but we won’t be alone. There are eight other tickets for this suite. All these suites are completely booked. This is as private as I could get.” I watched as he rubbed his forehead.