Pieces of Home

41. Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty

Rye

Mom (7:34 a.m.): Good morning, sunshine! I hope you have a wonderful day. :) How’s the weather there? Phil competes this morning, right? Do you and Jake have any plans for the afternoon? I love you! XOXOXO

Rye sat cross-legged at the end of the bed in his room in the hotel suite, staring down at his phone. Nervousness buzzed in his stomach, and he glanced up, out the open door. Jake was in the kitchen making them tea and toasting some bagels he’d bought at the grocery store the night before, after their dinner with Krista and Phil. Somehow, he seemed to know Rye was looking at him, and he lifted his eyes and grinned. The kind, familiar expression chased away some of Rye’s worry.

“Bagels will be ready in a minute,” Jake said. “And we should leave in fifteen minutes or so, I think. Is that okay?”

With a nod, Rye held Jake’s gaze for an extra second, letting the warmth from his friend’s brown eyes shut down the rest of his nervousness. They’d be going to a huge convention center today to watch Phil compete. Krista had described it to them last night during the few moments when Phil had quieted down long enough to eat his dinner. She’d said there were lots of bleachers—big rows of seats that got higher up toward the back—and that she’d save them seats up in the back when she got there early with Phil.

Rye was excited. And trying his best to not be nervous.

His phone vibrated in his hands, and he gave Jake another half-smile before glancing down to see the notification. It was his mom again, which wasn’t surprising .

He missed her, and he could only imagine how she was feeling too.

Mom (7:36 a.m.): Uncle Jon says you should check out the automobile museum, and Aunt Tanya mentioned an ice cream place near your hotel that serves rolled ice cream! She says it’s really good! You should try it! I love you!!! XOXOXO

Rye laughed as he texted her back.

Rye (7:37 a.m.): You use a lot of exclamation points!!!

Then he sent her a row of smiley face emojis and another row of hearts, which he knew she would appreciate, before typing out a separate text to answer her questions.

Rye (7:39 a.m.): The weather is nice. Jake says it’s supposed to be sunny and warm. Phil competes this morning, I’ll send pics. We don’t have afternoon plans but now I think we’ll have to find out what rolled ice cream is.

He waited for a moment but didn’t get an immediate response. So he stuffed his phone into his pocket, stood to slip his shoes on, and then joined Jake out in the kitchen.

Jake glanced over at Rye as he exited the bedroom, his eyes still warm but also happy and eager. Their tea and bagels were now on the table, and Rye smirked as he noticed Jake’s had cream cheese and what looked like strawberry jam on it.

“You have a sweet tooth. My mom says mine’s bad, but I think yours is worse,” Rye teased, taking his seat at the table.

Jake fake-scoffed with a huff. “Nope. No sweet tooth here. The jam is just for... texture?” Jake tried, but when Rye lifted his eyebrows skeptically, Jake laughed. “Yeah, that doesn’t really work does it?”

Rye shook his head, grinning, as Jake sat down across from him .

“So, Krista texted me a bit ago.” Jake paused to take a sip of his tea before continuing. “She said Phil woke up much too early this morning, full of energy and ready to go. She’s there at the convention center already, and she got us seats way up at the back of the bleachers. She says we’ll be able to see all the events just fine and that it should be quieter up there.”

Rye frowned. “We don’t... have to...” His words stuck, a trickle of guilt stopping him from saying everything he wanted to, and he shook his head and blinked back the feeling.

“Really, it’s no problem,” Jake reassured him softly. “I’ve been to a few of these meets before, and trust me, Krista won’t be sitting still the whole time anyway. The best seats in the whole place wouldn’t be good enough, and she’ll be walking around and pacing and generally fretting the whole time. We’ll be glad to be up and in the back where we can see all the events.”

And just like that, just with Jake’s simple words, the weight of his guilt lifted a little. Rye swallowed and closed his eyes with a nod. “How... do you... do that?”

“Do what?” Jake sounded genuinely confused, and Rye laughed lightly as he looked up at his friend again.

“You knew what I wanted to say,” Rye explained. Jake pursed his lips, and for a moment, Rye thought he looked kind of cute like that. It was a strange thought, and Rye ignored it as he continued. “You do that sometimes. And... and you knew exactly what to say to me to make me... not feel so... bad.”

Jake dropped his gaze to his mug as he wrapped both hands around the ceramic. “Ah, um, well, I’m not sure.”

“It was a rhetorical question,” Rye said, hoping he’d used the word right. And when Jake laughed and glanced back up at Rye with silliness in his eyes, Rye grinned. “I said that right, yeah? Rhetorical?”

“You did.” Jake’s voice was low and deep, and there was some emotion in it that Rye couldn’t place, but it seemed to contrast with his playful expression.

Rye just grinned again. “Good.”

He took the last bite of his bagel and finished the rest of his tea, and Jake did the same. Then, Jake grabbed his wallet and keys, and the two of them headed out for the short drive to the convention center.

Rye’s excitement continued to build the closer they got, and that low-level nervousness only tugged at him again when Jake drove past the huge building. It stretched on and on and on, big block letters in bright red announcing it as the Reno-Sparks Convention Center. They had to drive past it and make a right turn down at a stoplight before they could turn into the parking lot .

Jake glanced at him from the driver’s seat as he pulled the car into the lot. “You okay still?” he asked, and Rye managed a nod. “Good. Let me know, though, okay? This is supposed to be fun, and if there’s anything I can do to make this experience more comfortable for you, I will. Okay?”

The words felt so warm and kind, and Rye nodded. “Yeah. I will,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

Jake pursed his lips again and then shifted his focus to finding them a parking spot. Not more than a minute or so later, they pulled into an empty spot, and Jake turned the car off. Rye noticed Jake hadn’t pulled out his blue accessible parking pass, which Rye had only seen him use a handful of times a while ago, when his leg had been bothering him more. However, Jake did reach into the back seat and grab his cane.

“I shouldn’t need it,” Jake said. “But I’ll bring it just in case. I’m not sure exactly how far we have to walk.”

Rye gave him a small smile and nod, and then he looked out the windshield toward the building. It was big—bigger than any other building Rye could remember seeing before. Well, except for maybe some of the huge skyscrapers they’d passed on their drive into Reno. He found himself worrying for a new reason, and he glanced back to Jake.

“You could . . . park closer?”

Jake had started to get out of the car, but he paused and lifted his eyebrows with what might have been confusion.

Rye shook his head. “I don’t... want you to hurt. There are closer parking spots. Maybe, um...”

The softness in Jake’s eyes as he smiled sent some strange warmth to Rye’s cheeks.

“Oh, I’ll be okay. Really,” Jake assured him. “It’s more of a concern if we have to go up or down a bunch of stairs or something. I’ll be fine just walking on the flat ground. Um, thank you, though, for thinking about me.”

Rye grinned. “That’s what friends are for,” he said, repeating Phil’s words from the night before.

And Jake just gazed at him for a moment, that same softness in his eyes. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Together, they got out of the car, and Rye followed as Jake led the way toward the entrance. It was indeed a long walk, and Rye had no doubt that if he were by himself, he would have gotten lost almost immediately. But Jake seemed to have no trouble navigating them to “Hall 3.” When they arrived, Jake paid their entrance fee and also bought a program, and then he helped Rye put on his wristband .

The feel of the thin paper on his wrist was distracting enough for a few minutes that he could almost forget the heavy crowds of people milling about around them. Almost. Jake stayed close, and they walked into the competition area through a set of huge double doors. The brightly lit room was uncomfortably warm, at least to Rye, and he hesitated as his stomach dropped.

He wanted to say something. Something like, There’s a lot of people. I’m not so sure anymore. It’s maybe too much. But he knew he couldn’t speak then—the all-too-familiar heaviness on his chest and tightness in his throat smothering any chance he had of communicating his thoughts to Jake. He closed his eyes, but he could still hear the activity around him—music, an announcer mentioning they had ten more minutes until “march in,” footsteps and laughing and chatter—and he reached up with one hand to grip his opposite arm, squeezing hard.

Almost immediately, Jake’s hand settled lightly on his lower back. “You’re okay, Rye. You’re alright. I see Krista across the way. We can go around the back behind the bleachers, and it’ll be much quieter than right here, where everyone’s coming in and out. Okay? It’ll be okay.”

It’ll be okay.

Rye leaned back slightly, feeling the pressure from Jake’s hand on his back. It steadied him, slowed the uneven racing of his heart, as it so often had. He nodded, hoping Jake would see, and he made himself open his eyes again. Ahead of them, he could see the large, open area where there were a bunch of gymnasts getting ready for their competition. Sets of gymnastics equipment were arranged neatly within the space, and the place was full of people.

“See, up over there, Krista’s waving,” Jake said, pointing toward the far set of bleachers on the other side of the huge room. He gave a little wave just as Rye found Krista as well. Thankfully, Jake was right—that part of the seating area looked like it was much quieter, with only a few other small groups of people nearby. “Here, this way.”

Gently, Jake guided Rye, keeping his hand on Rye’s back, and once they got through the initial crowd near the entrance, it did get quieter. When they reached the set of bleachers at the far side of the room, Jake motioned for Rye to go ahead of him up the metal steps to the top row, his hand temporarily dropping away from Rye’s back.

Krista greeted them with a smile as they reached the highest row of seats. “Good morning, Rye. I’m so glad you could make it.” She turned to Jake. “Little brother. Showing up at the last minute, as always.”

Jake shook his head with a grin. “You said eight thirty. We’re here at”—Jake glanced back over his shoulder at a row of projection screens showing the time—“eight twenty-five. Perfectly on time. ”

Krista shook her head and glanced at Rye. “He was late to his own birthday party once, you should know. I’ll tell you the story another time. Made me so mad, I swear.”

Jake groaned. “God, please don’t, Kris.”

“It is a pretty embarrassing story, I suppose, I mean, you did —”

“Kris.”

Krista stopped, her brown eyes twinkling as she winked at Rye. And his eyes darted to Jake, whose face was now bright red. Rye tried not to laugh, but he maybe only half succeeded, and Jake shook his head as he stepped up around Rye to give Krista another of those big, warm-looking hugs, like the one they’d exchanged the night before.

“You’re awful, Kris, you know that.”

“Happy to see you, too,” Krista joked, and Rye watched, wrapping one arm around his midsection, as an unfamiliar tug in his chest pulled him slightly off balance.

He wondered what that hug felt like.

It looked like safety. Like warmth and safety and that feeling he had of comfort and steadiness and assurance whenever Jake’s hand found his back.

He’d managed to let Phil hug him twice now, and those hugs had felt good. His mom also hugged him all the time, and her hugs felt like a safe place, almost like how he imagined it might feel if... if Jake hugged him. Only, Jake was bigger, stronger, taller. So maybe his hug would feel even more safe and even more reassuring.

Maybe his hug would feel even more like home .

Krista pulled back out of the hug and grinned up at Jake before looking at Rye again with a silly smile. “I’ll be back in a few. Keep him out of trouble, would you? I’ve gotta head down to get pictures when they do march in. Phil starts on rings, which he’s not entirely excited about, but it’s all good. I—”

Some announcement came that the gymnasts’ warm-up was over and that gymnasts should head back to get ready for march in, and Krista nearly jumped.

“Ack, I gotta go. Be back shortly. Phil’s wearing a gray-and-yellow uniform. He’s hard to miss.” She promptly turned and jogged down the steps, leaving Jake and Rye by themselves at the top of the bleachers.

Rye pursed his lips and looked over at Jake, trying to hide his amusement. Jake sighed a dramatic, fake sigh, and Rye couldn’t hold back anymore. He huffed a laugh and shook his head. You and your sister have the weirdest relationship , he wanted to say. But there were too many people around, and that made it much harder to say anything at all, even something that simple and even if he were speaking just to Jake .

“Here, let’s sit?” Jake suggested, stepping out of the way and motioning to Rye to take a seat partway down the short row between the stairs and the corner.

After they both got settled, Jake said, “It’s better up here, yeah?”

And Rye nodded. It was. And with not many other people up in their little corner of the bleachers and Jake sitting right next to him, close enough that he could feel Jake’s warmth, he felt safer.

He felt . . . okay.

“That was so amazing! Mom, did you see my pommel horse score! I got a perfect execution score from one of the judges. My coach flipped! I mean, not literally flipped, of course. But . . .” Phil kept going on as the four of them walked outside the convention center toward where Jake had parked his car, the early afternoon sun shining brightly overhead.

Rye couldn’t really understand much of what Phil was saying, but the boy’s excitement was contagious, and Rye found himself grinning, just like Phil, as the boy bounced ahead of them a few feet and then turned around, laughing and holding his silver medal in his hand.

“So! Ice cream? Right, Mom?” Phil asked, smiling up at his mom with eagerness in his eyes.

Rye felt it too—that eagerness, and at the mention of ice cream, he was reminded of his mom’s text from that morning. He waved a hand to get Phil’s attention, then stopped walking and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked the screen and scrolled through the more recent texts with his mom—updates and pictures he’d taken and sent her during the competition and awards ceremony—until he reached her text from that morning. He pointed to it and showed the screen to Phil.

“Hmm, rolled ice cream. Mom, what’s that? Rye’s mom says there’s a place nearby that’s supposed to be good. We should go there!” Phil bounced away again, and Rye laughed as he put his phone back in his pocket, not entirely sure how Phil could have so much energy after his four-plus-hour gymnastics competition.

“Not to cut your time with Uncle Jake and Rye short, but we’re supposed to meet with your teammates for lunch, remember?” Krista said.

Phil frowned but then nodded and looked at Rye. “Sorry, Rye, maybe we can try that ice cream another time? Thank you for coming to watch me!” He turned to Jake. “And you too, Uncle Jake!”

They stood there in the parking lot for a few minutes saying their goodbyes, and Rye got another wonderful hug from Phil. He wished he was brave enough to ask for one from Krista, but he knew he wasn’t quite there yet. He did, however, manage to tell Phil congratulations—actually say the word aloud—and the way Phil’s eyes brightened made it worth all the effort it had taken for him to force the word out.

Then, they parted ways—Krista and Phil headed toward where they’d parked in a different part of the lot, while Jake and Rye continued on toward Jake’s car. Jake was quiet the rest of the walk, and when Rye looked over at him, Jake seemed deep in thought, his usual soft expression a little tight. A trickle of unease spread through Rye’s chest, and he quickly looked back ahead, focusing on each of his steps.

But the feeling of unease continued to build.

In the car a few minutes later, Rye fastened his seat belt and set his hands on his thighs, overcome by uncertainty and an odd stiffness and an intense, overwhelming urge to be much smaller and take up less space and... and hide. A flush of unsteadiness rocked him, and he closed his eyes and pressed his palms down, the thin paper wristband he still wore crackling as it scraped against his jeans.

Part of him began to panic, the feeling inching over his skin like an awful, cold darkness. And the other part of him—the part that could still feel the rough material of his jeans under his palms and hear the hum of the engine as Jake started his car—that part of him suddenly got really, really angry.

Angry at it all.

Angry at what had happened to him.

Angry that now he couldn’t even seem to just have this one day .

He’d done so well; he’d managed, with Jake’s help, to keep himself together the whole time they’d watched Phil compete and even during the awards ceremony, when they’d had to be in a much smaller space with all the other people around. But now, it was starting to hurt.

And he wasn’t even sure why.

His left hand tightened into a fist, and he pressed down again, harder now, as he brought his right hand up and gripped his opposite arm.

“J-Jake?”

Where was Jake? Why wasn’t he trying to talk to Rye? Was he alone here? What if—what if—

“Hey, hey, Rye, yeah, I’m here,” a gentle voice said from next to him. “Sorry, I was thinking about something, and I got distracted. But everything’s okay. You’re okay. I mean, are you okay? ”

He wanted to feel that it was Jake, to know for sure that it was Jake there with him, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and look. Because if it wasn’t—

“Rye, hey, shh, you’re okay. You’re safe. Careful that you don’t hurt yourself now, okay?”

Soft fingers lightly brushed against his where he gripped his arm, and Rye’s whole body shuddered with relief. Jake. It was just Jake. And he was safe. And... god, why ? Why had everything been fine and then nothing at all had set him off?

He loosened the hold he had on his upper arm and let out a long, deep breath, nodding. “S-sorry,” he stuttered. “Sorry.”

“Shh, no, it’s okay.” Jake’s hand settled over his left one where it sat on his thigh, the touch spreading some comfortable warmth all the way up his arm, chasing away the cold and the dark and the anger. “Today was a lot for you. And you did so great. It was amazing. I’m... I’m proud of you, and I had such a good time hanging out with you today. And Phil was so happy to have you there, you have no idea. That kid loves you, Rye.”

Rye’s eyes were still closed, but he laughed lightly and dropped his chin down to his chest. He’d had a good time too. He tried to make the words come, to tell Jake that, but his throat hurt, and he couldn’t seem to speak.

“It’s okay, Rye. I think... I understand,” Jake said quietly, squeezing Rye’s hand.

More of that comforting warmth spread up his arm, and he exhaled again, slower this time, feeling some more of the tension leave him.

“I think you worked so hard for the last few hours, trying to keep yourself calm and everything.” Jake’s hand left Rye’s, and Rye almost protested because it took that wonderful warmth with it, but he still couldn’t say anything. Jake continued. “Now, when it’s just you and me, and you don’t have to hold yourself together anymore, all of that effort from the whole day... kinda overwhelmed you all at once?”

That sounded about right. And awful. And he just wanted to forget about it, to have it be over and for him to feel okay again, like he had earlier. He blinked his eyes open to the bright sunlight and then bit his lower lip.

Next to him, Jake sighed. “Ah, I mean, I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong. I’m just... doing my best here. But, Rye, I’m so proud of you. And I had such a good time today. Thank you for coming with me.”

Rye forced himself to keep taking measured breaths as his heart steadied itself. And he set both hands on his thighs again, lightly this time and with his palms open.

I had a good time too.

I wish we could get ice cream now, but I think I need to go back to the hotel.

God, how he wished he could just talk. How he wished he could say what he needed, communicate with his friend, tell his friend how nice the day had been.

But he couldn’t.

And yet, he didn’t really have to anyway, because Jake just knew. Somehow.

“You know,” Jake started, “I bet that TV in the living room has got all the streaming platforms on it. The one in my bedroom does. There’s this new documentary I’ve been wanting to watch about puffins. They’re a type of seabird, do you know them?”

Rye shook his head.

“Ah, that’s okay.” The car shifted and started to move, and Rye watched silently as Jake navigated them out of the parking lot. When they turned onto the road headed back toward the hotel, Jake continued. “Puffins are these little seabirds that live along rocky coastlines, mainly in the North Atlantic region, like along the coasts of Canada, Greenland, and Iceland. This documentary is about the Atlantic puffin, which was threatened with extinction a few years back. What do you think? We can hang out at the hotel for a bit, order lunch, and watch the documentary? Then maybe get ice cream later?”

That sounded more than perfect to Rye, and he nodded when Jake glanced briefly in his direction.

Jake’s warm smile lit up his eyes, and he turned to look back at the road. “Good, good. So, for lunch, we can order delivery to the hotel, yeah? Krista mentioned this amazing restaurant...”

With a long, slow breath, Rye relaxed back into his seat and closed his eyes, listening to the gentle sound of Jake’s voice and imagining it as a hug. Warm and promising of safety.