7. Ryan
Lacey’s expressionchanges in the mirror. A moment ago she looked happy and at peace.
Suddenly, there’s a storm brewing in those blue eyes of hers.
“Whatever is bothering you, we can talk about it,” I offer. I’ve never been much of a feelings man. But with Lacey, I want to be the safe person she feels like she can share everything with.
“Nothing is wrong,” she answers but her voice is too chipper.
She reaches for a paper towel and dries her hands. She fluffs her hair one more time and gives me a smile. It’s her Spock one. The sign she’s trying to stay detached.
But since we need to rejoin the party, I decide to let it go for now. I’ll question her about it later tonight when I get her home and in my bed. The idea of sharing a bed with her sends a thrill through me.
I’ve never had a serious girlfriend. I signed up for the service when I was eighteen and spent the next eleven years surviving. When I got out, I was a train wreck. So I had to focus on my sobriety, on putting my shattered pieces back together again.
I follow her out the door and put a hand on her back. “There are some people I want to introduce you to.”
She lets me lead her to a group of work colleagues. I know Mary from the marketing department is in need of a new person to help with the graphics and I think Lacey would be a good match.
Mary is deep in conversation with another woman. But she pauses when she sees me and greets me with a warm smile.
I introduce Lacey to Mary, explaining that she has an interest in art.
Lacey blushes but she looks pleased and grateful that I’m making the introduction.
The woman with Mary chuckles. Her white hair is streaked with pink and her brown eyes twinkle when she speaks. “You aren’t Lacey Holt by any chance, are you?”
Lacey nods and looks between the two women. “I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced.”
The woman extends her hand. “I’m Norah, the Dean from the Asheville School of Arts. I’d love to talk with you about your work.”
I think again about the envelope on the counter, the one from the art school. Is this a sign that she’s thinking about putting down roots finally? Maybe Eric was wrong about her this time.
Lacey gives the woman a frozen smile. “Sure.”
“I loved your piece, I think it was called longing. About the little girl trying to reach out to the family who doesn’t see her. What inspired that? It was so gripping.”
My heart hurts as I think about little Lacey, the girl who must have wanted a family. Her request in the bathroom to hold her comes to my mind and I put an arm around her shoulders. I need her to know that I’m here for her right now.
* * *
Lacey
What inspired that?
As soon as the Dean asks the question, I freeze.
There’s so much I could say but my artwork is personal. It’s hard to talk about with anyone but I especially don’t want to discuss it in front of Ryan. He’ll realize that I’m too damaged.
“It was inspired by a story I read on the foster system,” I explain. My stomach knots. I hate lying but I don’t want pity from anyone including Ryan.
The four of us continue to chat but with each passing moment, I find it harder to breathe. One thought consumes me—the need to leave, to run far away from this place.
I wait until Ryan is distracted by a colleague who has a question regarding a contract he’s working on. I whisper in his ear that I just spotted Atlas. Then I gather my things and move to the side door of the hotel.
As I’m leaving, I bump into Eric. There’s a troubled look on his face.
“Are you pulling a runner again?” He doesn’t sound angry with me, but he does seem disappointed.
I glance around to make sure Ryan isn’t watching.
Fortunately, he’s still too engrossed in his conversation to notice me. So I hurry out the door, indicating that Eric should follow me.
He shoves his hands in the pockets of his slacks and shifts his weight from foot to foot. Underneath the twinkling lights of the trees, he sighs. “It’s probably for the best. I’m headed to New York.”
“Why? For how long? For business? When will you be back?” The questions tumble from my mouth.
He shrugs. “I took a job there. When I get on my feet, you can come stay with me for however long it is this time.”
I’m stunned that he’s moving and even more surprised that he’s changing jobs.
Alpha Defense is his passion. He loves the work and I think he’s always had a crush on Atlas. It seems so weird that he would suddenly just move his entire life to New York.
Then the last part of his statement registers with me. For however long it is this time.
“I always disappoint you.” The thought makes me want to cry. I’ve never been able to make anybody happy. Never made anyone want to love me.
He pauses and studies me. “You don’t disappoint me. I wish you could find a way to be happy.”
Ryan makes me happy.
I stop myself from saying the words. I can’t tell my brother that I’m in love with his friend or that he makes me feel whole.
“I have a flight to catch,” Eric says. “If you need anything, Ryan will have your back. I’m sure he’ll work something out with you about the apartment if you want to keep staying there.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Is this goodbye?”
“For a while, yeah.” He nods to me. “I hope you take care of yourself. Do me a favor and one of these days, try to figure out what you’re running from.”
I wish we had a normal relationship. That we had grown up together. I wish even now that I were close enough to give him a hug or a pat on the back or even a clap on the shoulder. But all of that would feel weird. “Good luck then.”
“Thanks. Good luck with…” He waves a hand. “Wherever you end up next.”
* * *
After my conversation with Eric,I go to the apartment and pack my stuff. It doesn’t take long. I’ve been living out of a backpack for years.
Since I don’t know where I’ll end up, I cover my paintings with tarps and stow them in the closet. Eric won’t care if I leave them.
One canvas though I leave out. It’s my favorite.
The one that me reminds of Ryan. I created it for him. Even though I won’t get to see his face when I give it to him, I still want him to have it. Maybe one day he’ll see it and think of our night together. Maybe he’ll even smile.
Taking the large canvas, I put it in his bedroom and set it up. Once everything is arranged, I grab my backpack and leave the apartment, cutting out the lights as I go.
I don’t know where I’m going to end up next. But I’ll figure it out. I’ve spent my life landing on my feet. I can do it again…even with a broken heart.