Chapter 17 Supper
Supper
RYDER
“Do y’all think I’m a mess?” I wipe my mouth on my napkin. “If so, how annoying is my messiness on a scale of one to five?”
You could hear a pin drop for how quiet it suddenly gets inside the New House’s kitchen.
Sawyer drops his fork.
Mollie’s eyes dance.
I didn’t necessarily plan to create a shock-and-awe situation at Sunday night supper. But I’ve been turning over so many thoughts and ideas in my head all weekend, and I guess I just…decided I would stop keeping it all in.
I’m learning the more I open up, the more the world opens up to me. And the more that happens, the less suffocated I feel.
The better I sleep.
I thought for sure I’d toss and turn all night, tortured by guilt, after having the most obscene sex ever with my best friend’s sister.
While I still don’t feel great about keeping a secret from Colt, I sure as hell passed the fuck out when I got home.
Slept twelve hours straight, only waking up when Duke came over to check if I had a pulse.
I slept well again last night too.
Cash gives me a long, hard look. “Blink twice if you’re being held against your will.”
“By who?” Wyatt chuckles. “A random-ass alien that’s possessed him and is finally getting him to talk about things?”
Junie shoves a forkful of mashed sweet potatoes into her mouth. “I believe in aliens. Mom, can I be an alien for Halloween?”
“Sorry, June Bug. Remember we already bought your unicorn costume?” Ava asks.
“Fine. But you have to put money in the swear jar, Uncle Wy.”
My older brother has the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry, honey. I’ll put a five in.”
“Yes, it’s annoying.” Duke’s lips twitch as he sets his napkin beside his plate. “I’d give it a six.”
“Seven,” Cash corrects.
I push back my chair. “So much for tryin’ to keep it real—”
“Aw, c’mon.” Sally puts a hand over mine. “You know they’re just busting your chops.”
Ella frowns. “What’s a chop, and why does it bust?”
“Does it burst, just like I do when I have to tee-tee?” Junie taps a thoughtful finger to her little chin.
I don’t wanna smile, but I do. They’re so damn cute.
“Are you bursting now?” Patsy scoops some of our ridiculously delicious brussels sprouts gratin onto her fork. “I can take you to the potty if you need to go.”
Junie grins. “No thank you.”
Before Sally and Wyatt got together, Patsy and John B would only be at the ranch Monday through Friday. Patsy would stock the fridge for the weekend with plenty of leftovers and stuff to make sandwiches, and we’d be on our own Saturdays and Sundays.
Now that the Powells are officially family, we all decided we’d make a big deal out of Sunday supper. It’s a really nice way to start the week. We gather in the New House’s kitchen at around three, and together we make a whole bunch of delicious food.
We rotate who gets to choose the recipes every week. This week, it was Duke and Wheeler’s turn. They chose to roast some chickens, with sides of sweet potatoes and brussels sprouts gratin. I was in the kitchen early to assist.
Mollie sips her wine. “I think people who acknowledge the truth—who try to live their truth—they’re always going to be messy because life is messy.”
Ava nods. “I agree. I think being messy is a good thing.”
“Why?” Duke’s eyes are kind. “Are you finally ready to come off your BS?”
“Hey. That BS was my coping mechanism of choice.” I give him a look. “We all have ’em. Coping mechanisms. Different ones, maybe. But losing Mom and Dad the way we did, that’s not something you come out of without some wounds you gotta cover up with armor.”
Cash is still staring at me. “You ready? Finally? To talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” Sawyer scratches underneath his chin. “I’m not giving you a tough time, I’m just genuinely confused about what we’re talking about here.”
Ava gently elbows him. “I think Ryder is ready to talk about your past. Your parents too. As long as I’ve been around, he’s never done that.”
“Thank you, Ava. And seriously, Cash, ‘finally’?” I scoff. “Cut a guy some slack.”
Wheeler leans her head against my shoulder. “He is the baby.”
“And the favorite.” Wyatt helps himself to a third helping of chicken. “Makes sense why he’d be the most tenderhearted.”
“Can I also get some credit for being the easiest kid in the family?”
Wyatt chuckles. “There’s a dirty joke in there—”
“That you’re not gonna make because there’s children present.” Duke rests his forearms on the table. “But really, Ry, you are the easiest out of all of us. And that’s saying something.”
“Watch your mouth.” I’m grinning as I reach for my wine.
Wheeler keeps her head on my shoulder. “But really, I have an appreciation for the roles we all take on in our families. I tried to be the easy one too, Ryder. Forgive the terrible pun, but it’s certainly not easy to manage everyone’s comfort every second of every day by pretending like you don’t feel or need anything. ”
Shit, I’m gonna cry.
The impulse to swallow my feelings like I always do is strong. I’m not sure if that knee-jerk reaction will ever go away.
But now I can walk myself through other options. Like just letting myself simply…sit with my feelings because I know they’re not gonna kill me. It’ll be uncomfortable, sure. Possibly unbearable. But the more I do it, the more time passes, the less it seems to hurt.
I feel sad. Seen. Relieved that I shared my thoughts so I could be seen at all.
None of this would be happening if I kept trying to be easy. Not this conversation. Not all the conversations I’ve had with Billie. Not the epic sex or playing guitar by the bonfire or connecting with my family in a way I never have before.
Holy fuck, this really is happening.
My face burns—this is a lot—but I still let the tears fall.
“Dang.” I tug my forefinger and thumb over my eyes. “You hit the nail on the head there, Wheeler.”
“Aww, Ryder.” She runs a hand over my back. “I didn’t mean to make you emotional—”
“I’m glad you did.”
“Should we get a priest?” Sawyer pretend-whispers. “Some holy water at the very least?”
“Not funny,” I say, even as I scoff.
“Just to add a little fuel to your fire,” Wheeler says, “it was only when I stopped pretending that everything was ‘just fine’ that I was able to be who I really was and do what I really wanted. My parents still don’t love that I chose to be entrepreneur instead of a lawyer, but I had to let that go. Embrace my messiness.”
Mollie raises her glass. “You had to live your truth.”
“I’ll cheers to that.” Wyatt raises his glass, eyes on mine. “So what’s your truth, brother?”
I suck in a breath through my nose. “Truth is, I miss Mom and Dad, and I’m sad—angry—fucking gutted, really, that they’re gone.”
I’ve never said those words out loud.
I’ve never admitted to having those feelings. How could I when I didn’t even allow myself to feel them in the first place?
I wait a beat, then another, for the freight train of grief to hit. For the shame and the regret to bowl me over.
It’s all there, right in my chest and belly and blood. But surrounded by the people I love, that awful shit doesn’t feel near as, well, awful.
Cash sniffles. “They couldn’t get over your cheeks. How chubby they were. When Mom was getting an ultrasound when she was pregnant with y’all, apparently all they could see were how fat y’all’s cheeks were.” He glances at Duke.
“Cheekies!” Junie shrieks. “I love them.”
Sawyer leans over to kiss her cheek. “Yours are scrumptious.”
“Your scruffies are not.” She recoils, making the table burst out in laughter.
“I remember Dad pretending to eat your cheeks before every meal,” Wyatt adds. “We thought it was hilarious, the way he’d use this Sesame Street voice while nibbling on y’all.”
Cash laughs. “I would ask him to stop because I was worried you wouldn’t have any faces left when you got older.”
“Aw, baby, you may be the handsomest, but you were never the smartest, were you?” Mollie wags her brows.
“I was.” Wyatt gives us the side-eye.
More laughter. Damn, Billie would fit right in here, wouldn’t she?
She’d join in on the ribbing. The jokes and the innuendo.
“If gambling like a degenerate was a marker of intelligence, then for sure you’d be the Einstein of the family,” Sawyer says.
Wyatt holds up his hands. “Never said I was an angel.”
“Definitely no angel.” Sally’s got stars in her eyes as she beams at her husband. “Thank goodness for that.”
“Mom never put you down.” Cash nods at me. “I remember Aunt Lolly coming to visit and asking Mom why you were always on her hip. Mom told Lolly to stick it where the sun don’t shine. You were her last baby, and she knew very well that babies don’t keep.”
Duke pulls his brows together. “Why didn’t she hold me that much?”
“Because I was cuter,” I say matter-of-factly.
“We literally have the same exact face.”
“That’s true.” Wyatt points a finger at Duke. “None of us could tell y’all apart for the first, oh, five or so years of your lives.”
Sawyer nods. “Quite frankly, we didn’t care who you were, as long as we could beat you up.”
“No wonder I never wanted to leave Mom’s hip.” I’m still crying, but I’m able to breathe now.
“You had that speech delay.” Cash brings his water to his lips. “Pawpaw said it was because Mom was always talkin’ for you. Duke was yammering away in complete sentences by the time he was three, but you were fine to let her keep speaking for you even then.”
“I remember. Animal therapy was awesome.”
What I don’t say? That I reached out to the therapist my primary doc recommended last week. I’m still waiting to make an appointment, but it felt like a step in the right direction.
Wyatt looks at me meaningfully. “Probably why you’re so good with animals now.”
“He can moo with the best of them,” Cash replies with a grin.
Ella’s eyes go wide. “Can you really speak with the cows?”
“I sure can.” I put my hands on the table. “They don’t say much back, though.”
“You’re funny,” Sally says.
“No, I’m not. But I appreciate you saying that.”