18. Ryan
18
RYAN
I stood across the hospital room from Carrie yet again and watched her agonizing over Walter, who lay in bed a bit more peacefully than the last time he was here. Helen sat on one side of the bed and Carrie on the other. Both of them had one of his hands in theirs and they both talked with him soothingly.
"You really scared us," Helen told him in a chiding tone, but it was loving. I understood their panic. When I heard Walter had been rushed in again, I thought the worst too.
"I thought you had another stroke." Carrie sounded tired and emotional. I'd gotten to know her different moods pretty well, and I wished she'd just open up and talk to me about them. We hadn't spoken in days, and I could only blame myself. She was upset with my reaction to Beth's comments.
"So did I," Walter joked. It was good to see him in a lighthearted mood. "It's just a bruised hip, though. Went down so quickly, I didn't have a chance to catch myself. Guess I need the wheels a bit longer."
"Dad," Carrie tittered, then she glanced over her shoulder at me, but I saw the sadness in her eyes.
"Walt, if you don't try harder, you're gonna be humiliated when I kick your ass at tee-time." I chuckled and walked to the foot of the bed. When the girls left for dinner earlier, he and I had a chance to chat for the first time in weeks. Something about him had changed. He seemed happier and softer. I'd heard a near-death experience could do that for someone, but seeing it firsthand was incredible.
"Watch the trash talk, Hawthorne. Your handicap is bigger than my dick, and you can ask Helen about that." Walter's crude humor made Helen blush, and Carrie gasped and swatted him while I laughed it off.
"Dad, my God. You're awful." But even Carrie snickered too.
"Thanks for stopping by, Ryan. It's just a false alarm. But you get your ass over to my place and get those lights hung. They're not going to hang themselves." He grinned at me as he reminded me playfully that I had offered to put their outdoor Christmas lights up for him this year.
"I'm gonna go too," Carrie told him before kissing his cheek.
Helen looked up at Carrie and cocked her head. "I'm not ready to go…"
Carrie was yawning, but when she was finished, she said, "I'm so tired. I can't stay here any later. Didn't you drive?"
When Walter was in the hospital last time, Helen refused to leave. But this time, with it just being a bone bruise, she told everyone she'd be going home tonight. The tree-lighting was in a few days, and she wanted to make sure all of her decorations were done before the town lit their tree.
"Well, no, dear. I was at the therapy office. My car is there. I rode in the ambulance with your father." Helen's eyebrows rose. "You can ride with Ryan. Then I'll have a car to drive myself home."
When she made the suggestion, my body tensed. I knew Carrie was putting space between us, but I didn't know why. Now she would be forced into close proximity with me against her will, and I didn't want to make her more uncomfortable than I already had.
Carrie huffed out a sigh and turned to me with a hesitant expression.
"I will definitely give you a ride if you want. Or I can wait for you, Helen," I said, turning to look at her.
"Nonsense. She's a grown adult. She can just ride with you." Helen held her hand out toward Carrie, who now looked mildly irritated. Carrie reached into her pocket and pulled out Walter's car key, which she'd become the adoptive owner of since he wasn’t driving anytime soon.
"See you at home," Carrie grumbled, and I felt a bit of discouragement at the tone of her voice.
Whatever happened between us felt like my fault, but other than defending her publicly, I couldn't begin to know what I'd done wrong. Maybe the drive across town would help enlighten me, or maybe she'd just tell me to back off now. I couldn't blame her. She had enough stress without the rumors around town. She was probably wishing she could leave town right now and not wait until Christmas.
We walked to my car in silence and she buckled in. There was no fun talk of cars or books we loved to read. She didn't even look at me until we pulled into the driveway at Walt's house. I spent the entire agonizing drive second-guessing myself and trying to think of something to say to make her see how much I cared about her, only to fail.
"Thanks," she said, reaching for the handle. I grabbed her arm and let my hand slide down to her wrist.
"Wait," I told her, knowing it was now or never. If I didn't speak up, chances of my having the guts to reach out to her again would dwindle. "I'm sorry."
Carrie looked up at me and then broke eye contact right away. "I'm sorry too."
"For what?" I asked her, and I felt really confused.
"For leading you on." Her eyebrows rose, but it wasn't intrigue or curiosity I saw. It was sympathy. "I'm going back to Chicago, Ryan. I have to." As she spoke, a light mixture of sleet and snow started to fall, blanketing the car and the ground. It pinged on the metal and created a background noise for my heart to break to.
"Yeah, I figured you would say that." My throat constricted. I didn't want her to leave, but her leaving shouldn't stop us from being happy. Anything could happen, really. We could do long distance for a while. I could visit her on weekends or she could come home… But even though my mind raced with the possibilities, I felt frozen and unable to say them.
"I have to. I have… It's just that… I need you to know I'm?—"
"It doesn't bother me," I told her, cutting her off. Her eyes widened, and I watched her shoulders square.
"What doesn't bother you?" She looked slightly panicked, but I hadn’t meant to scare her.
"The rumors and gossip. I mean, it pisses me off, but let them talk. Carrie, I've never met anyone like you. I don't want to lose you, even if it means we do this long-distance for a while."
Tears welled up in her eyes and she shook her head. "I can't," she blurted out, and then she was gone, opening the car door and marching across the lawn.
I got out after her, racing to catch up, and I was glad I did. The light ice coating the sidewalk made everything so slick that she slipped and fell, landing right on her ass with a screech.
"Oh, shit," I gasped, making larger strides to get to her. I'd upset her and now I felt like a total jerk again. I reached for her hand and helped her up, but she winced and held her hip. "Here," I told her, bending to scoop her up.
She wrapped her arms around me, and I carried her, cradle style, to the front door where I gently set her down. Then I curled a stray strand of hair around her ear and let my cold hand linger on her cheek.
"Carrie, please don't do this. You don't have to move back here if you don't want. We can find a way to make it work. I promise." My heart felt like it was going to wither and die—full like it would explode, and weighty like a rock sinking into the abyss.
Carrie rose up on her tiptoes and kissed me softly. "I have to spend more time with my dad now, Ryan. I came home to help Mom, and I've spent all my time with you." This excuse at least made sense, but it didn't clarify what the hell was actually happening between us or whether we had a future.
I wanted to argue with her and tell her she was giving up too soon, but she deserved someone who loved her and supported her, and my God, I loved her. I just couldn't tell her. I didn't want her to think I was manipulating her into changing her mind.
"If that's what you want…" I took a step back, but my heart was breaking. Her lower lip quivered, but she didn't turn away. Why did I have to feel this way? Why couldn't life just be easy now?