Chapter 32
Chris
“So, what’s all this about rugby?” Martin asks as he helps me unload the shopping.
“It was just a match. Evan wanted to go.”
“How come?”
“They invited him,” I reply vaguely.
“Who did?”
“A…friend.”
“His friend or your friend?”
“Does it really matter?”
“It really does.”
I scoff and lean against the counter. Martin called this afternoon because he had a few hours to kill, and he wanted to take Evan somewhere.
As usual, Evan didn’t respond, so Martin had to use me.
They have a good relationship, but Evan hates being treated like a little boy, being taken to stupid places filled with divorced dads and their sons.
Most of the time, he pretends he never heard his phone go off when Martin calls.
“So…?”
“There’s nothing to say, Martin. A friend of both of ours, who plays rugby, asked him if he wanted to go and watch a game, and he accepted. End of story.”
“Why should I believe you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“You can believe whatever you want.”
“That’s true.”
“It’s nothing, honestly. He’s a friend, that’s all.”
“If that’s all, why are you going so red?”
Martin’s way too observant for me and my stupid games.
“I’m not going red,” I attempt.
“You don’t want to talk about it because you think I hate the thought of another man being around the house – right?”
“There’s no other man in the house!” I cry, overly convinced.
“But there could be…”
“No!” I stop him right away. “And if there were, it wouldn’t be him.”
“Him.”
“Anyway, even if there were, it’s none of your business.”
“It’s not the guy from the other night?”
“What? Absolutely not!”
“Okay, so it is him.”
Shit.
“No, Chris, I mean…Have you seen him? Fuck, honey. That guy is…how do I put it…?”
“Leave it.”
“Is it serious?”
“It’s nothing, Martin.”
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“Just stop, okay?”
“Have you slept with him?”
“Martin!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you think I would have?”
“Well, I’m normally spared the details of your sex life, so…”
“There’s nothing to tell you.”
“Mmm.”
“Can you stop with the mmm? You’re getting on my nerves.”
“Can I tell you what I think?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway.”
“You’re not telling me anything because, whatever it is, it’s not like the other times.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit over-the-top?”
“You always tell me about dates, guys you go out with, sometimes even who you’ve fucked – but you haven’t told me anything about this rugby-playing friend, who hangs out with Evan and turns up here unannounced.”
“Jesus, Martin, you’re impossible!”
“I’m observant, and I noticed how he wanted to jump at my neck when I slid my hand down your back.”
“Did you do it deliberately?”
“Obviously. I wanted to see how he’d react.”
“You’ll never change.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Well, you should’ve thought about that before you left me for someone else.”
“Chris…” He comes over and wraps his arms around me. “I just want what’s best for you.”
“We’re home!” Evan’s voice shocks us. “Oh Jesus!” he exclaims as soon as he sees us.
Wait a minute. We?
I suddenly push Martin’s arms away, but it’s already too late.
Ryan is frozen just a few paces away from us, and he has a face like thunder.
Not that his face could ever be ugly at all – but let’s just say that I don’t like his expression.
One eyebrow is slightly raised, his jaw is clenched, and the tension on his face spreads down through his body.
Awkwardness descends onto the room. I’m completely incapable of saying anything.
“We meet again…” Martin says, his tone menacing. His arm is still wrapped around my shoulder.
“I guess we do,” Ryan responds, taking a few steps towards us. His tone isn’t exactly light and cheery.
“So… what brings you here?” The sentence doesn’t quite come out right.
Ryan clears his throat. “I brought Evan home.”
“I thought Nick was bringing him home.”
He grinds his teeth.
“Maybe we should be properly introduced,” Martin interrupts.
“Maybe,” Ryan responds through gritted teeth.
“I’m Martin,” he says, his hand outstretched.
“Ryan,” he says, shaking Martin’s hand so hard that you can see the veins popping out. He might actually break it.
He lets go, slowly, never breaking eye contact.
Am I wrong, or do I see a hint of jealousy?
“So…how did it go?” I ask Evan, trying to shift the attention onto him.
“Oh, it was awesome! Ryan’s so good. He played for the whole match – he even scored a try and the crowd went mad and…”
“Okay, that’s enough, kid,” Ryan stops him, ruffling his hair, clearly embarrassed.
“So you had fun?”
“Hell, yeah! I didn’t expect it to be so…hard. For real men.”
“Listen to him,” Martin interjects. “For real men.”
Evan shrugs, missing his father’s point. I understand it completely. There’s a clear fight brewing here to establish who’s the Alpha male. And I don’t like it at all.
“I even went into the changing rooms with the team. Nick took me.”
“I’m glad you had fun.”
“Do you want something to drink, Ryan?” Evan asks suddenly.
“No, thanks. I should get going.”
“Sure? Not even a beer?” Martin opens the fridge and takes one, as if it were his beer, his fridge. His house.
He’s doing it on purpose and it’s pissing me off.
“Maybe another time,” Ryan says, flatly.
“Okay. Well, thanks for bringing our son home. Feel free to come visit us whenever you like.”
Why does he have to be like this?
I elbow him in the ribs, but to no avail.
“See you soon,” Ryan turns on his heels and strides towards the front door. He opens it then slams it shut behind him, sending the vibration right through me.
“You’re a dick, Dad,” Evan says accusingly.
“Evan!” we both cry in unison.
“Why did you have to do that?”
“I…”
“I know what you’re doing. You always do the same thing. God! If you don’t want to stay with us, if you don’t love Mum, just leave her alone!”
I’ve never seen Evan so angry in my life.
“You know I love your mother,” Martin soothes.
“And you know exactly what I mean! Just leave her alone – actually, leave us both alone!” Evan yells, before storming upstairs, while I stand there, speechless, my mouth hanging open.
“What the hell…?”
“I’ll go and talk to him,” I interrupt. “And when I come back down, I’d rather not find you here,” I say harshly. Then I head upstairs to join my son.
I knock at the door. “Can I come in?”
“Are you alone?”
“It’s just me.”
“Yeah, you can come in.”
I approach the bed, where he’s lying splayed on his back, and sit down next to him.
“I hate him. Sometimes, I really hate him!”
“Evan.”
“You should hate him too.”
I smile at him. “I don’t hate your father.”
He scoffs, dragging himself into a sitting position. “Well, maybe you should just send him off. Don’t let him in when he knocks at the door. Don’t let him always get involved with our lives.”
“Is that really what you think?”
He nods.
“Maybe him being here has made you think that we…?”
“No, Mum. No! That’s the point. Him being here is just… useless. Actually, it’s annoying! Did you see what he was doing?”
“Evan, your father…”
“Dad decided not to live with us, to have his own life… Well, he can go and live it – as long as it’s not in here!”
“Why are you so angry? I don’t get it.”
“No, you don’t get it! He holds you back, keeps you tied to him.” He gets up impatiently. “Mum, you know, right, that Dad will never love you?”
What is suddenly standing in front of me is not a sixteen-year-old boy.
“Because I know it,” he continues, “And I know that, deep down, you know it too. So, you can’t let him do it.”
“Do what?”
“Control your life. Control both of our lives!”
“You think so?”
He looks at me, determined. “Yes.”
“I thought it was nice to have him around.”
“Mum,” he sits back down and takes my hand. “I’m fine. Actually, I’m great. But you…”
“I’m fine, too.”
“I like Ryan,” he says dryly.
I jump up, trying to escape the discussion.
“I really like him.”
“Evan…”
“And he likes you.”
I whip around, facing him.
“Don’t make that face. You know it, too.”
“That’s not true. Come on, Evan – he’s younger than me, unbelievably good-looking, a rugby champion. And I’m just…”
“And he likes you,” he says, standing up and approaching me. “He likes you, Mum.”
I shake my head.
“And now he thinks that Dad…”
“Honey, it’s nice that you want to see me with someone, but Ryan…he’s Ryan. It’s okay if you want to be friends, but that doesn’t mean that he and I can…”
“I don’t care about being his friend. I like him because he likes you, Mum. And I just want to see you happy with someone who isn’t Dad.”
I feel the tears start to prickle my eyelids.
Is that really what he sees? What I’ve let him think? That I’m just waiting around for his father? What kind of mum am I?
I try to smile at him, even though I want to burst into tears. “Maybe one day I’ll find someone, but it’s not Ryan. He’s not right for us. Do you know what I mean?”
Evan looks at me for a few moments without saying anything, then nods and turns to sit back down on the bed.
“He likes you, Mum,” he says again. And the worst thing is that my heart almost falls for it.