I was intrigued by the natural wildlife in the area and inclined my head in Renee’s direction to hear more. I noticed her hand gracing Ryan’s shoulder and biceps. I sighed and then realized I may have breathed a bit too loudly; it came out more like a huff than a breath. Ryan must’ve heard me because he was looking at me with a mixed look of annoyance and tolerance in his eyes. The look wasn’t directed at me, but clearly meant for Renee’s overt touchiness. He was obviously aware of how her not-so-subtle actions were affecting my mood.
Renee, realizing we were sharing a private moment, looked over at me with curiosity, clueless to the cause of the exchange. I walked directly over to Ryan and put one arm around his waist. I was marking my territory and the petty part of me felt a little immature. Renee merely gave me a tight lipped smile. Ryan looked mildly amused.
Renee dropped us off back at Hotel De Haro and we said our goodbyes. Ryan needed to some time to think about the properties and said he would contact Renee if he had any questions. When Ryan extended his hand, she ignored it and instead embraced him, giving him a kiss on the cheek in an attempt at a European farewell. She formally and politely said goodbye to me and told me how nice it was to meet me. As she walked back to her car, I blew out a breath and an involuntarily “humph.”
“You can’t possibly be jealous of her, are you?” Ryan asked with an amused expression.
“No,” I said, somewhat defensively but humored by own possessive behavior.
“You don’t seem to me to be the jealous type,” Ryan teased.
“Not really. Well, maybe. Depends,” I said, fingering the zipper of my jacket. “I just didn’t like how touchy she was with you. And right in front of me! I mean, how rude was that?”
“Aw, now, she wasn’t that bad. Just
… friendly,” he said, chuckling. “You’re kind of cute when you’re jealous.”
I wasn’t looking at him, but I could visualize the smile on his face. I turned to face him and gave him a look of mild annoyance. I tried to act like it was no big deal. He thought I was pouting for the sake of staking my claim, and maybe I was. If I was honest with myself, though, I was sometimes the jealous type. This was especially true whenever I thought about Catherine.
After Renee left, we went for a walk along the beach south of the harbor. We walked hand in hand, passing various large metal sculptures meant to decorate the park.
“So, which house did you like the best and why?” Ryan asked.
“The first one,” I said without hesitation. “Though the first and the third were comparable; they were both lovely and contemporary and I liked the design and architecture.” I paused as I contemplated why I liked one over the other. “I think the first home is better suited for a family. From the living room window and the back deck, there’s a clear view of the whole lower deck, as well as the beach front. The other house is perched on a cliff and though the view is stunning, well, the first one just seemed more kid-friendly to me. I could see a family living there or wanting to rent it for a family vacation.”
I looked up at Ryan, uncertain whether or not he would be freaked out by my comments. If he wanted to rent out the home to tourists, it would be more attractive to families. Couples were less likely to rent a home so big for a vacation. That was my honest opinion and I wanted to share it; he needed a woman’s perspective on the pros and cons of each home. I was worried that he might think I was referring to our future—I didn’t want him thinking I was bringing up marriage and kids already. When we were viewing the properties, I
did
wonder what it would be like to visit the home with Ryan and our future kids, but that’s not why I made the comments that I had made. It’s not to say that I wasn’t thinking exactly that; I am a woman nearing thirty, after all.
In a conscious effort to make sure I wasn’t misinterpreted, I quickly added, “As a vacation rental property, families with young children would probably be more inclined to choose the first house over the third. It’s just safer.”
He didn’t look freaked out, nor did he appear uncomfortable by my comments. He looked contemplative. “You know, it’s odd,” he started, “when Catherine and I were together, I never really visualized our future together.”
His comment threw me for a loop. “How is that possible?” I asked incredulously. “When you’re planning on spending the rest of your life with someone, don’t you naturally think about the rest of your life with them?”
Ryan was silent for a long time and I thought for a minute that he was avoiding the question. He looked at my confused expression and finally elaborated. “Catherine and I, even though we were engaged to be married, never really talked about what our lives would be like in five, ten, or twenty years from now. We never even set a wedding date. I know that must sound weird to you.” He seemed surprised and perplexed by his own comment.
My silence confirmed his assumption of.
They never talked about the future?
I want to talk about the future now and we’ve hardly been together multiple weeks.
“I’ve always wanted children, but I never actively thought about it much with Catherine. I never saw us going for walks in the park, or to Disneyland, or coaching soccer practice; I assumed that when we got married, all of that would just come with it. But when I went to visit these homes this afternoon, my criteria for whether or not I liked them was based on whether or not I could see us there; you and me. I actually did an inventory of who would sleep where. I wondered how many kids we would have and if it could easily fit visitors, like my mom, or my sister’s family and her kids. I thought about how fun it would be to dig clams and oysters on our own private beach.”
I was speechless by his confession. I was touched by the honesty and openness of his feelings for me.
He saw a future with me!
If I were a balloon, I would be floating up to the high heavens by now, for as happy and light as he had just made me feel.
“Does that freak you out, that I’m saying all of these things?”
I gazed up at him and he actually looked
… vulnerable. He’d just laid out all his feelings and hopes for us, without shame, embarrassment, or consequence, and now it looked like he was worried I would bolt.
“No, it makes me happy,” I said, my voice cracking. I reached up and lightly touched his cheek.
“You must think I’m a crazy sometimes. I’ve fallen in love with you in less than a few weeks, and now here I am confessing that I think about coaching soccer for our kids someday.” He shook his head, disbelieving even his own words.
“Admittedly, yes, it’s a little crazy, but I feel the same way, Ryan.” I found myself oddly trying to comfort him over falling in love with me. “I must be crazy, too.”
We walked silently for a few more minutes, each of us deep in our own thoughts. For however honest he had been with me just now, there was still something preventing me from believing in a happily ever after. Why did that small voice from deep inside me still doubt his love for me? I knew that there was something I still needed from him.
“Can you tell me more about you and Catherine?” I asked quietly. How could I feel confident being his girl when a relationship so deeply rooted in his past would always have some presence in his life? Would Catherine quietly fall into the shadows of his history or would she be more than that to him? I needed to know. I needed to understand what her place was going to be in our lives.
“I guess I never fully explained our relationship. I really wanted to that morning after Anna’s wedding, but I didn’t want to tell you this long, drawn out story unnecessarily. It just didn’t feel like the right time.”
“I know. Can you explain it now?” I coaxed him gently, waiting for him to continue. “I can handle it. I’ve sort of avoided the whole topic for a while, but I’m ready to hear it now.”
Ryan found a large rock on the beach to sit on. There was enough room for the both of us, so he pulled me in next to his body, wrapping one arm around me, and we sat there quietly for a moment.
This was it. This was the story I had been waiting for. This would help me understand Ryan better. This would help me feel confident about my position in Ryan’s life moving forward, or so I hoped.
“Our dads both worked at the same law firm. Growing up, we use to vacation often together. The four of us, Daniel, Catherine, my sister Lauren, and I, were close. Lauren and Catherine were couple of years behind us.” Ryan paused and looked out to the water. “It was the summer right after Daniel and I graduated high school. Daniel wanted to go hiking, but I talked him into waterskiing instead. Catherine and Lauren were both with us on the boat, too. I was driving it and Catherine was the spotter. Catherine and I were laughing at something that Lauren was doing and we weren’t really paying attention to Daniel, who was waiting for us to circle around to him. There was a kayaker nearby and I jerked the boat to avoid him. I didn’t see when Daniel went under. The boat propeller hit his head. The investigation called it an accident. There was no alcohol or foul play involved. Even though they ruled it an accident, I still felt responsible for his death. I was the one that wanted to go boating that day and I should’ve been paying more attention while I was controlling the boat.” He didn’t look at me the whole time he was explaining this. His voice remained even.
Shaking my head, I protested his belief that he was responsible even though I knew that any attempts I could make to soothe him wouldn’t be heard. I hurt for him as a young man, having had to go through this awful experience, bearing the weight of his own perceived responsibility. Even now, two decades later, it wasn’t hard to see that he still bore the weight.
“Anyways, Daniel’s death impacted all of us, but it was especially hard for Catherine. She worshipped him growing up and felt partially responsible for his death; she took it harder than any of us. I guess from that point on, I sort of played the role of surrogate older brother. I think somehow I felt morally obligated to be there for her and her family. “
He looked down at me and I shifted to face him.
“Honestly, I never really saw her as more than a little sister, but we ended up dating for a short period my senior year in college, her sophomore year. Catherine initiated it one night after a party and I guess I just sort of thought, why not?”
“But I thought you said you guys had been dating for seven years,” I said, confused with the timeline of events.
“When I decided to move down to San Francisco after graduation, I broke it off. She didn’t protest much. We knew even back then that we weren’t right for each other; we were better suited as friends. Our friendship persisted until I moved back to Seattle for good.”
I shifted in his arms, trying to wrap my head around their relationship. I wondered if Catherine had a crush on Ryan growing up. I could easily picture them at that party together in college. What gave Catherine the courage to initiate something with him that night? Maybe another boy upset Catherine and she went to Ryan for consolation. I could easily visualize Catherine, being held by Ryan, as she initiated their first kiss. It pulled at my heartstrings to imagine a younger Ryan, so kind, so sweet, and always taking care of her.
“Over time, I became her support,” he continued. “Whenever she had a broken heart or needed a shoulder to cry on, I was there. Her mom died of breast cancer not too long after my dad died. And then when her dad’s Alzheimer’s got worse, I
… my family, I mean, became her support system again. By then, I had moved back home. While her family was falling apart, I think she saw me as her connection to her past, a way to hold on to whatever memories of her brother that she could.” Ryan paused and hung his head. “To be honest, selfishly, she was also my connection to Daniel, and out of my own guilt, I felt this responsibility to take care of her. I failed my best friend, but maybe I could be there for his sister, you know …”
“Wow. She’s had so much loss already in her life. She’s so lucky she had you and your family to help her through it.” As I tried to process their history, I knew that they would always somehow be involved in each other’s lives; they needed to be. I couldn’t imagine me being the reason for him never having contact with her again. As much as I disliked the entire situation, I didn’t think it was fair to cut her out completely—she was too much a part of Ryan’s life, and his family’s life. She was too deeply ingrained. I wasn’t sure how I felt about anything yet, but if I wanted Ryan in my life, I knew Catherine was a reality I needed to process and be okay with.
Ryan didn’t notice my unease. He was still looking out into the distance towards the water in contemplation. “When I started working at MS, she was there as well, obviously. Our lives were too busy to meet people, so it was really easy for us to get involved again. I felt like I owed her some sort of relationship, whether it be brother, boyfriend, or husband. I’m not sure if Catherine really ever loved me or if she saw me as some sort of idealistic substitute for everyone she had lost in her life. I do know that we were together for all the wrong reasons.”
“She must really hate me,” I said with dismay. My face contorted in guilt. Now that I understood better what Ryan meant to Catherine, I couldn’t help feeling terribly guilty. Would Catherine ever forgive me for taking Ryan from her? She’d already lost so much in her life and I had no idea until now how deeply she depended on Ryan. I felt an ache in my heart for the loss of seemingly every member of her family, and now of Ryan.
“You shouldn’t feel that way. You did nothing wrong.” He frowned, concerned that I was taking his message the wrong way. “This is really hard on Catherine, but it’s not because of you. It’s because of me. I should never have let my own guilt go so far. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I wasn’t, and I did a great disservice to both Catherine and myself. I somehow always knew and felt it, but it wasn’t until I met you that I realized it.”
I sighed, wondering if Catherine felt the same way. Judging from our conversation in her office, I think, deep down, she did.
Ryan turned to me again and gazed into my eyes. “I know this is way more detail than you probably wanted, but I want you to understand why I asked Catherine to marry me.”