19. Nineteen
NINETEEN
S taying away from Ronan was more difficult than I anticipated. I told myself it was best that we went our separate ways. Whenever I looked at him across the lounge, however, I felt a strange ache I couldn’t explain.
To distract myself, I took a cooking class.
It was on my list of things I wanted to do.
Sharon’s teaching lessons had consisted of shoving a frozen meal in the microwave or heating up a can of SpaghettiOs or Campbell’s Soup on the stove.
The class I opted for lasted six weeks and focused on Cajun food.
My plan was to take three classes a year, each focusing on a different cuisine.
Since the classes only lasted for six weeks, they weren’t overly expensive.
I was also saving up for a studio spot, but that would take longer.
Most places charged a minimum of two grand a month and required a year’s lease to secure a spot.
I would need half that money for a down payment, and I wanted to make sure I had enough to pay for the entire year before I signed a lease.
It would be embarrassing to have to drop out or sell my lease at a loss.
A week and a half after having “one last round” with Ronan, I’d been to two classes and was continuously lying to myself about enjoying cooking as much as what I’d done with him. Did I believe it? No. I was fine pretending, though. Deluding myself was something I was good at.
As for work, Kyla still hated me. But there was very little she could do about it, thanks to Candy’s constant drop-ins.
The therapist had decided to make me a project.
She hadn’t come right out and said that, but it was written all over her face whenever we were in the same room.
Her questions had very little to do with work and everything to do with Sharon.
“When was the last time you saw your mother?” she asked as she watched me get my tray ready at the start of my shift. I’d been hopeful that I would miss her today since I’d started later than normal. That wasn’t in the cards, however.
I shrugged. “Why does that matter?” I didn’t meet her gaze. It wasn’t by design but was simply a defense mechanism.
“I’m curious.” Candy lifted her finger toward the bartender. She’d been a frequent-enough visitor that he knew to get her an iced tea.
“It’s been a year or so.” I shoved a pen into my apron pocket. Normally, I didn’t need to write down orders. Sometimes, if the group was big enough, it was necessary.
“And where does she live now?”
“Shadow Mountain.”
Candy looked momentarily confused.
“It’s a mobile home park on East Vegas Valley.”
“Oh.” Was Candy surprised by that news? She looked it. “That means she’s not very far away.”
“Not nearly far enough,” I agreed.
Her perfectly manicured eyebrows hopped. “You don’t want to see her?”
“Nope.” I grabbed my tray and started toward the table in the corner, hoping against hope that Candy wouldn’t follow me. I wasn’t that lucky.
“Have you considered talking to her long enough to get some closure?”
I made a face. “I already have closure.”
“So you sat down with her and aired all of your grievances?”
“It’s not Festivus.”
She ignored the jab. “It’s a question. All I’m looking for is an honest answer.”
I was at the end of my rope. “I told her the last time I saw her that it would be the last time. I have no inclination to seek her out so I can tell her that again.”
“And she doesn’t try to seek you out?”
I shrugged. “She might if she knew where to find me. She doesn’t put in the effort to look.”
“I see.” We walked past Ronan, who had an empty table and was busy cleaning the felt while steadfastly avoiding looking in our direction. I didn’t blame him for not wanting to be drawn into Candy’s net.
She was not to be deterred.
“Ronan, when was the last time you saw your father?” Candy asked.
Ronan looked taken aback to be addressed by the therapist. She largely ignored him. “Um, a couple weeks ago.”
“Do you talk to him on the phone regularly?”
“Not if I can help it.”
Candy stopped walking and gave him her full attention. “You don’t miss him?”
Ronan snorted, then caught himself. “Oh, you’re being serious.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t miss him. I’ve found my life is better if we spend large stretches of time apart from one another.”
“I see.” Candy said in such a way that I pitied Ronan. She was now focused on him. “What about your mother?”
“I talk to my mother Sunday mornings,” he replied. “Ten o’clock in the morning, unless I have an early shift for some reason, which is rare. Then we normally skip that week.”
“And your mother doesn’t care that your relationship with your father is strained?”
It was Ronan’s turn to make a face. “I didn’t say my relationship with my father was strained. Who said my relationship with my father was strained?”
Candy didn’t miss a beat. “You just did.”
“I most certainly did not.”
“Yes, you did.” She didn’t back down. “Do you know how often I talk to my parents?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell us,” I muttered before I could stop the words from escaping.
Candy’s lips quirked. “Would you prefer I didn’t tell you?”
I opted for the truth. “Actually, I would.”
Her smile was lightning quick. “Well, you’re doomed for disappointment. I talk to my parents at least three times a week. I text them both multiple times a day. Do you know what that says about me?”
She kept opening herself up for jabs. “That you’re codependent?”
“That I have a healthy relationship with my parents.” Her finger moved between Ronan and me. “You two do not.”
That wasn’t quite the flex she thought it was. “You do realize that not everybody has good parents, right?” I challenged. “Not everybody grew up in the Brady house.”
Candy’s forehead creased. “What’s the Brady house?”
“From The Brady Bunch .”
“You mean that old television show?”
Ugh. She was starting to irritate me. Actually, she’d passed “starting to” weeks ago. “Yes.”
“Do you like that show?”
“Not particularly. We only had a few channels in my house when I was growing up, though. No cable. I was forced to watch old reruns on the handful of channels we had. There weren’t a lot of options.”
“So you watched The Brady Bunch .”
“When my mother remembered to pay the electric bill,” I confirmed.
Her expression softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Why was she apologizing? “I don’t need an apology. I’m stating a fact.”
Ronan interjected himself into the conversation. “I don’t mean to tell you your job,” he started.
“But you’re going to,” Candy guessed, mimicking my attitude from moments before.
“You seem fixated on Tallulah. It’s very weird. Can’t you just leave her alone?”
“Are you standing up for Tallulah?”
“I’m pointing out something that’s rather obvious.”
“Hmm.” Candy crossed her arms over her chest. “I was under the impression that the two of you didn’t like one another.”
I was the picture of innocence. “Who told you that?”
“Things were fraught in our group session.”
“I don’t remember that.” I was blasé.
“I don’t remember that either,” Ronan said, instantly siding with me. “You’re remembering that wrong.”
Candy made a face. “What I find interesting is that you two are putting up a united front.”
“I think you’re imagining that as well,” I replied. “I’m just trying to do my job.” I pointed toward the table in the corner. “They need drinks. It’s my job to get them.”
“Then do your job.” Candy sounded so reasonable it gave me pause.
“You’re going to leave me to do my job?”
“I’m going to talk to Ronan, for a change.”
He groaned, and she smiled at him in such a way that my sphincter puckered in sympathy. I hated it when she pointed that grin at me. Still, I was looking forward to getting a break from her.
“Awesome.” I shot her a thumbs-up and took off to do my job.
Candy kept close to Ronan for two hours. I remained far enough away that I couldn’t hear what they were saying. His frustration was palpable even from a distance.
At around six o’clock, Olivia sauntered into the lounge. She was dressed in a pretty pink frock and did a little shimmy when she saw me.
“Look!” She bounded over and landed with a hefty grunt directly in front of me.
I scanned her, expecting to find a new piece of jewelry or something. Nothing seemed different. “What am I looking at?”
She gestured to her dress. “It’s from the maternity section.”
“Ah.” Laughter bubbled up. Olivia was the only person I knew who was excited about shopping in the maternity section. “You finally found something that you’re not swimming in.”
“There’s room to grow.” She rubbed her hand over her stomach. “I look good, right?”
“You always look good,” I assured her.
“Zach says I look like Barbie’s pregnant sister.”
I pressed my lips together to make sure I wouldn’t laugh in her face. “Zach is a crackhead” was all I managed to come up with.
“Right?” Her eyes flashed. “He’s going to be a crackhead who sleeps in the guest room if he doesn’t appreciate my new clothes.”
I didn’t believe that for a second. “Did you visit me for any other purpose than to show off your new dress?”
The light went out of her eyes, and she nodded solemnly.
“You did?” This didn’t sound good. “Is something wrong?”
“Ryder is making noise about attending the next board meeting.”
Instantly, my mind went back to the night we’d seen Norbert and Ryder together in Paris. I’d forgotten all about that incident until now. “Why?” I was honestly curious. The intrigue that was Ryder Stone was impossible to ignore.
She shrugged. “Zach is trying to keep him out. I wanted to make you aware that I think he’s going to double his efforts to get into the casino.”
I could see that. “Well, I’ll keep my eyes open.”
Olivia nodded then glanced over at Ronan, who was still being peppered with questions by Candy. “What’s going on over there?”
I followed her gaze. “Oh, Candy has decided we both need to have healthy relationships with our parents. She won’t let it go.”
“What does that matter?”