Pieces of Home

33. Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

Rye

Bright lights of all different colors lit up a huge tree that had been set up right in the center of the courtyard in the middle of town. The lights flickered and glowed with a rhythm, matching some upbeat holiday music playing from nearby speakers. Children danced around, laughing and singing, and a couple of older women passed out hot chocolate and donuts from a table near the café. A man dressed in a Santa costume walked around with his hands on the middle of his ample belly, cheerfully announcing “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” every minute or so.

Even though Rye had only just found out the man in the Santa costume wasn’t actually Santa—because Santa wasn’t actually real—the whole scene was nothing short of magical.

And . . . crowded. Also cold.

The cold was okay. Rye could handle that. Bundled up in jeans, a sweater, his heavy coat, gloves, and a beanie, only his nose and cheeks were cold, really. But the crowd was another thing. The whole town was here, it seemed, the Christmas Eve celebration in full swing.

Rye moved closer to his mom, shrinking back behind her a step as they made their way slowly toward the hot chocolate table.

“Isn’t this amazing, sweetie?” His mom slowed her walk and looked back at him, concern flickering in her eyes.

Rye quickly nodded. “It’s... really, um, amazing, yeah,” he agreed, stumbling over the words as he forced a smile. His mom seemed only half convinced, and she stopped walking for a moment and turned to him.

“Are you sure this is okay? We could always go back—”

“No,” he interrupted, though his voice was low, and he was pretty sure he sounded less than sure of himself. “It’s fine. Just, um...” He glanced up and around at the crowd again, and he swallowed hard .

It wasn’t really fine, and he wondered if it would ever be fine. It’d almost been two months now, and yet, he still couldn’t convince himself to feel comfortable around most people, especially a crowd of random people, people whom he couldn’t really see well, here in the dark. Well, dark-ish. It was early evening, the black sky dotted with a spattering of tiny white sparkles, but the town’s only courtyard was lit up brightly, Christmas lights decorating every storefront.

It was loud and boisterous and happy. Joyful.

And terrifying.

“You don’t have to be okay, sweetie,” his mom reminded him gently, moving them a bit to the side of the main walking path everyone seemed to be following. “We can go back home if you’re not comfortable.”

She was right. He knew she was right. But he also knew how much she wanted to be here. It was all she’d been talking about for the last two weeks. And he wanted to be here, too. Sort of. He wanted to want to be here. It was Christmas Eve... his very first Christmas Eve in fifteen years. And it really was magical.

So he wanted to try. Harder. He didn’t want his racing heart and slightly nauseated stomach to force them to turn back and go home... again. Like when his mom had tried to take him shopping in Eureka weeks ago. That hadn’t turned out great, and they’d ended up just coming back home—a two-hour-long drive—and ordering him clothes and shoes and things from an online store.

But this was different, right? This was just... the whole town. All the people who’d been so supportive of him being home. He wanted to try.

“I don’t... want to go home yet,” he said, forcing the words.

“Okay, sweetie. But you’ll—”

He nodded, knowing what she’d been about to say. Tell me if you do. Every time. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” she said softly. Then he heard her blow out a long breath before she turned back to the crowd and looped her arm through his. “Oh, look, Sue’s already here!” She pointed with her free hand toward the hot chocolate and donut station, where a woman in a bright-green parka stood, cradling a white paper cup in her gloved hands. His mom continued, “Oh, and there’s Wayne and Rachel. Elsie, too. And I bet we’ll find Uncle Jon and Aunt Tanya over by the food tables. Maybe Janice. She’s really been happy to have you helping out at the bookstore, you know.” His mom started moving them forward again, though she took slow, deliberate steps. He managed to force himself to follow.

The crowd wasn’t too thick, even as they approached the center of the courtyard. But Rye’s heart was still racing, fast and uneven, and he struggled to keep his eyes focused ahead of him .

Every person who stepped in their direction—particularly if that person was an older man—sent a jolt of something very uncomfortable through his chest.

He wouldn’t actually be here. Would he?

A string of very unwelcome curse words ran through Rye’s head, and he involuntarily brought his hand up and across his chest, gripping and squeezing tight on his opposite upper arm.

He could be here. He could be any one of these people. Hiding in plain sight. Waiting for the right moment, when Rye was alone. Waiting to take him again. To take him and shove him into his car, drive him out to his secluded house just miles from the town center off that narrow, isolated dirt road. Then grab him by the hair and drag him inside the house and push him down into the cold basement, where—

“You’re sure this is okay, sweetie?”

Rye nodded.

And they continued walking until they reached the hot chocolate table. Sue had left by the time they got there, but his mom chatted with the two women at the table briefly while they prepped cups of hot chocolate for both Rye and his mom. Rye hung back a step, not wanting to be pulled into the conversation. The questions he just knew they were dying to ask would be nothing but uncomfortable for him, and he wouldn’t be able to answer. It was the same every time.

He still couldn’t really talk to anyone, anyway. Anyone except his mom.

Well, his mom and Jake, who had been such a good friend to him.

Jake was supposed to be here tonight, in fact. He’d told Rye as much yesterday, when they’d gone on another of those wonderful and yet terribly cold walks on the beach after having lunch together, as they’d taken to doing every few days. Rye had started “working” at The Nook, a brand-new bookstore in town that was just a few shops down from Beach and Beyond, the gift shop where Jake had bought Rye that book about birds back before Thanksgiving. Rye’s mom was friends with Janice, the bookstore’s owner, and since Rye was still pretty much terrified to be left alone—even more terrified than he was to sit in the back of a super-quiet bookstore and read most of the day, occasionally helping to return books to the shelves or stock new books when they came in—he’d taken to “working” at the bookstore on most days when his mom was also at work. Then, every few days, he’d meet with Jake for lunch and a walk on the beach, since the bookstore was only steps away from the boardwalk.

It felt like something almost normal. Almost normal for an adult man, that was. Meeting up with a friend for lunch. And it was now usually his favorite time of the day. Jake was kind and smart and just so easy for him to be around. He had this way of making Rye feel respected and valued and safe. And a little less strange, a little less like... a child.

Or something.

Rye wasn’t really sure what it was. All he knew was that Jake was a good man and a good friend, and he felt so incredibly lucky to know him.

And he hoped Jake was here, because then, maybe he’d be able to get through the night.

Rye glanced around, looking for the familiar, tall figure of his friend. It didn’t take him long—Jake easily stood out from the rest of the crowd, both because of his height and build and because he was still using his cane. And as soon as Rye saw him, it was as though Jake knew—he paused in the middle of whatever he’d been saying to a much shorter woman bundled up in a light-blue coat and fluffy pink ear warmers and then lifted his eyes and turned just enough to find Rye. Jake’s face broke into a huge grin, and he raised a hand in a small wave.

The woman turned too, and even from the distance across the small courtyard, Rye thought she looked familiar. It only took him a couple of seconds to realize why, and then his eyes widened. Krista! It was Jake’s sister, Krista. And... Phil was here, too! The young boy stood perfectly still and stable on his hands not a foot away from Jake!

Rye laughed out loud and quickly clapped his hand over his mouth. Jake’s eyes narrowed, although his expression was amused, and Jake then glanced at Phil and grinned again before leaning over toward the boy to say something.

The boy kicked down from his hands and straightened up as he looked over in Rye’s direction. When their eyes met, Phil’s face lit up with the biggest, widest grin Rye thought he’d maybe ever seen. With an enthusiastic wave, the boy grabbed Jake’s hand and started dragging his uncle across the courtyard, Krista following. And even over the music, Rye heard Phil yell his name as the boy waved again.

Rye smiled—he couldn’t help it—and he pulled a hand out of his pocket to wave back. The trio continued on their way across the courtyard as Rye’s mom stepped away from the table and handed Rye his hot chocolate, warning him to remember it was hot.

“Th-thanks,” Rye stuttered, even though his words still didn’t want to work.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Ms. Hammond there was saying how nice it was to see you at Janice’s bookstore the other day, and—”

“Rye! Rye! I can’t believe it!”

Phil’s voice was much louder now that he was so close, although Rye was surprised to find the volume—and the boy’s obvious enthusiasm—didn’t bother him at all. No, if anything, he was intrigued by it. He lifted his free hand and waved again, even though Phil was now just a few feet away.

“H-hi, Phil,” Rye said, and Phil’s eyes grew much larger as he tugged his hand out of Jake’s and nearly skipped the rest of the way over. He stopped right in front of Rye, still grinning, his brown eyes sparkling in the light from the courtyard’s decorations.

“It’s so good to finally meet you! In person, I mean,” Phil said, and then he glanced over his shoulder at his mom, who stood next to Jake.

Gosh, she was short. Or maybe it was just because Jake was so tall. Rye forced a smile as his eyes met hers, and then he looked back to Phil.

The young boy had clasped his hands in front of him and was looking at Rye hesitantly now. “Um...” He stuck his hand out, as though to offer Rye a handshake. “I... would normally give you a hug. I mean, my mom says I’m ‘a hugger,’ or whatever. I love to hug people. But maybe you’d like a handshake better?”

Rye’s tight smile loosened up, and he huffed a small laugh and then shook his head and opened up his arms. “I... can hug you,” he said, because really, he felt no hesitation at all.

Phil’s expression brightened into another of those huge, wide grins, and the boy moved forward a step and wrapped his arms around Rye’s waist. “Aw, good, ’cause I do really love hugs the best. And it’s so great to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” Rye said, though his voice was low now.

It was a really good hug. He hadn’t ever been hugged by a child. Well, at least, not since he was now an adult. But it felt so warm and so... not heavy. He loved his mom’s hugs, but there was always still some sense of uncertainty or shame or his own sense of guilt when he hugged her. Guilt from all the pain he’d caused her because of the awful, awful mistake he’d made so many years ago.

But this hug, with Phil, felt free and light and just... nice.

Phil finally pulled back, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, Rye,” Jake said gently, and when Rye looked up at him, Jake’s soft smile erased that final bit of discomfort that was lingering in his stomach from earlier. Jake tilted his head toward the woman now standing just behind Phil. “Rye, Shirley, this is my sister, Krista.”

Jake had talked about his sister often, but from everything he’d said, Rye had pictured this large, overbearing hulk of a woman who was as intimidating as any man Rye had ever met. Yet the woman who stepped up around Phil and greeted him and his mom with a soft smile looked nothing like that image he’d had in his head. She did look familiar, because even though she was short—an inch or so shorter than Rye’s mom, actually—her deep brown eyes were a perfect match to Jake’s, and she and Jake both had the same strong, kind, gentle composure. Her hair was much lighter than Jake’s and pulled back into a long braid, and her voice when she greeted him had that same quality that Jake’s had—a rich tone to it that just made Rye feel... safe.

Or something.

He almost felt like he could talk to her.

And so he forced himself to try.

“H-hi, Krista,” he managed, his voice faltering just slightly. Her eyes lit up in response, though, like he’d done something so incredibly impressive.

And that made him want to crawl into a hole.

Just how... low was the bar set? He thought that was the phrase anyway. People didn’t expect much of him, and being able to say hi to a stranger should not be some miraculous feat.

Yet if he let himself think about it, maybe it kind of was.

“It’s so great to finally meet you. Phil’s been going on and on about how you beat him at Mario Kart last week,” Krista said, and she was smiling, her eyes bright.

Phil popped back into the conversation, eager and enthusiastic as he described just about every second of that race—a race Rye had only won at the very last moment because one of the computer players had hit Phil with a blue shell, knocking him out and back to fourth place. But Phil somehow made it sound like... like Rye had won the Olympics or something.

Rye found himself grinning and shaking his head as he listened to Phil continue on, and he was about to try to jump in, to argue something about Phil exaggerating—if that was the right word—when he caught Jake’s eye. Jake was watching him with that same kind smile he always had, and it seemed to grow brighter when Rye blinked and shook his head again.

“It was amazing! Really! I hope we get to play again sometime soon. Will we, Rye?” Phil didn’t wait for Rye to answer before he kicked his legs up in the air and stood on his hands again, somehow perfectly in control. “I’m off school for the next week and a half at least. Right, Mom? I mean, I still have gym, but no schoolwork, and so maybe we can play again soon? If you’ll be going over to Uncle Jake’s?”

Krista mumbled some response that didn’t seem to be a commitment either way, and Jake laughed.

“I... would like that,” Rye managed, though as soon as he did, his throat seemed to close up and his chest tightened. He blinked and forced back the feeling. He could talk. He focused on Phil rather than Krista or all of the other people milling about, moving around them. “I, um, work s-sometimes, but... ”

“Oh?” Phil stepped down with his feet and stood straight up again.

Rye managed a nod, but that was it this time. He looked to his mom and pursed his lips, knowing she’d step in and help him. She’d just taken a sip of her hot chocolate, which reminded Rye that he had his own, and she nodded and then began explaining Rye’s “work” at the bookstore as he took a careful sip of his drink.

Did it count as work if he wasn’t getting paid? He wasn’t sure. His mom called it an “internship,” which he’d figured out meant that he was working for free in exchange for learning about a job. And he supposed maybe that was true. He was learning about how Janice kept her bookstore. But he really spent most of his time reading books. Or trying to read. Many of them had words that were still too hard or text that was too small and gave him a headache when he squinted at it for too long.

But his mom sounded really, really proud of him as she told Krista and Phil about his “job.” And that honestly felt pretty good, too.

When Rye’s mom finished talking, Phil finally seemed to notice the hot chocolate table. With a squeal of delight, he grabbed his mom’s hand and hauled her away in that direction.

Laughing, Krista called over her shoulder, “Want a cup, little brother?”

And Rye had to stifle a laugh. Jake’s cheeks, which were already pink from the cold, turned an even darker shade, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m bigger than you, Kris!”

“You’re still my little brother. Do you want hot chocolate?”

“No, thanks!”

“Suit yourself!”

Jake sighed and shook his head, and Rye was still grinning when Jake caught his eye again. “Is it good?” he asked, tilting his head toward Rye’s cup.

Rye nodded. “It’s... like the way Kelly makes it.” Fewer marshmallows, though. And maybe Kelly’s is a little better. He wanted to say all of that and more, but his words were still stuck in his throat, even though it was just him and his mom and Jake now.

His mom patted his shoulder. “Rye’s always saying, ‘Kelly makes the best hot chocolate.’ Right, sweetie?”

Was he? He frowned. He didn’t remember saying that all the time, although he did always talk about it. Or rather, he’d mention it with his awful, stilted speech, wishing he could be saying more. He’d probably only manage something like “Kelly’s hot chocolate is so good,” when what he’d really want to say was “Kelly’s hot chocolate is so good because Jake always orders it for me and asks her to add a dash of vanilla extract. He says that makes it even better. Richer or something.”

“Ah, well, she sure does,” Jake agreed.

There was a flash of light over across the courtyard, followed by a few cheers, though Rye couldn’t see what the fuss was about. A moment later, the music restarted louder, and people began singing. The voice of a young woman rose above all the others, the sound coming through the speakers now, like she had a microphone. It was a pretty song, and one Rye sort of recognized, but it was loud and just reminded Rye that his little bubble—his little place there in the courtyard with just Jake and his mom—didn’t really exist.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself. His mom’s hand came to settle on his arm, and he heard Jake talking as Krista and Phil returned, though he couldn’t quite make out the words.

Then, Phil’s hand grasped his free one. He found it odd and funny how small it was. He opened his eyes and looked down at the boy, who now held a cup of hot chocolate much like Rye’s own. “Uncle Jake says there’s a light display down the street a bit. By the, uh—what did you say, Uncle Jake?”

“On the boardwalk. Or at least they usually do one every year, and I don’t see why this year would be any different. Right, Shirley? The marine animal lights?”

“Oh, right! You’re right, Jake. They’ve done it every year that I can remember. It’s sponsored by the aquarium now. What do you say, Ryan, sweetie? Want to take a walk down there and check it out?”

Anything was suddenly better than standing here in the middle of the courtyard, especially because Rye was now aware of how everyone seemed to be coming together, crowding around the big decorated Christmas tree, singing loudly. Coming closer. Men. Large men with their faces hidden in darkness.

Unease swept over Rye, and he swallowed hard and lowered his eyes back to the cup in his hand. Oh, how he wished he and Jake and both their families were really in a bubble. A safe, unexposed bubble. He scrunched his eyes shut and was about to nod when Phil squeezed his hand.

“You’ll love it, Rye, I just know it. Come on.”

And he followed, letting the young boy lead him. Jake walked just behind him with Krista, and Rye’s mom walked next to him, on the opposite side as Phil.

Maybe he... did have a bit of a bubble.

Phil started talking again, and Rye let himself listen, blocking out all the other people and distractions around him. “Ah, look, I can see it! Is that a dolphin? I can’t tell until we get closer. I just love light displays like this. Mom, remember when we went to the zoo that one time, right around Christmas? It was a few years ago, right after Sheila left for Europe. I was seven, I think? It was nighttime, and they had all these light displays in the shape of animals. I remember they had this huge elephant display right next to a Christmas tree that was probably thirty feet tall! The elephant’s trunk was all different colors, and it was reaching up to touch the star on the top of the tree. It was so cool! Oh, and they also had some sort of, uh, bio... bioluminescent... uh...”

Phil slowed for a step, thinking, and Jake spoke up from just behind Rye. “Ah, I remember you telling me about that. They’d set up a special display of bioluminescent animals in their aquarium, right? Jellyfish and such, just for the holidays.”

With a big nod, Phil picked his pace up again. “Yeah, that’s right! Oh, the jellyfish were so neat. They didn’t usually have them at the zoo, so it was special. They also had hot chocolate and reindeer and a sleigh ride, and we got to see Santa. It was so much fun. Do you remember, Mom?”

“I sure do, honey.”

Phil stopped at the edge of the road and inched out a bit, glancing both ways between the row of parked cars. When he seemed to think it was safe, he started forward again, still dragging Rye with him. And he kept talking, excited and happy, especially when he saw the first of the light displays, which was, indeed, a giant dolphin formed with blue and white lights.

The crowd had thinned out in this direction, probably since everyone had moved to the courtyard for the singing and celebration, and the boardwalk was nice and open ahead of them, brightly lit and welcoming. Not quite as loud.

They paused in front of the dolphin, and Phil let go of Rye’s hand to step closer to the display. Rye’s mom then moved closer to him, wrapped her arm around him, and squeezed a bit.

“What do you think, sweetie?” she asked softly.

Rye let out a long, slow breath and then nodded. And his mom laughed quietly.

Jake said something from behind him—something about how they must have set everything up quickly, because none of this had been there the day before, to which Rye nodded again. Then Krista suggested they all gather together for a picture. Rye’s mom agreed, and they turned so the dolphin was behind them and smushed together a bit, Jake standing just behind Rye, while Krista and Phil stood in the front.

Krista held out her cell phone with the screen facing them, and Phil yelled out, “Say ‘pommel horse!,’” which elicited a swat from Krista and a laugh from Jake. Krista repositioned the phone, taking a second to make sure everyone—including the dolphin!—was in the picture, and then said, “Everyone say ‘cheese!’”

The chorus around him was loud. But it was a warm, happy, comfortable loud, here in this bubble of his.

Rye smiled along with everyone else, and it felt like a real, full, big smile. And just as Krista hit the button to snap the photo, Rye met Jake’s eyes in the image reflected on the phone.

And his smile felt even a little brighter.

He did like it here. Here in his safe little bubble.