45. Ryder #2
Anders sinks back onto the sofa. “I remember at my sister’s wedding, they went on and on about how you have to have the same number of people on each side.
My sister had four best friends. Her asshole ex didn’t have anyone.
I had to stand next to him along with three of my cousins, whom the groom had never even met.
Fucking weird. Weddings are weird. When this whole thing started, I assumed you’d elope. ”
“James wouldn’t buy it,” Thayer says.
“Why? There’s the baby, after all.” Anders says.
“Not everything is about James.” Thayer cocks his head at me. “Yes or no?”
My stomach flips. “It’s a fucking poor position you’re putting us in.”
“That’s where we are.” Thayer takes a sip of his drink and puts the full glass on the side table.
“I’m in,” I say. “I don’t want to do it, but I will for Emily.”
Anders glares, and Oliver’s shaking his head.
“I’m not telling Emily I refused.” Anders sits back and crosses his ankle over his knee.
“That leaves you, Whitehall.” Thayer leans forward, his elbows on his knees.
“Maybe.”
“Get a black tux.” Thayer stands and leaves the room.
“We’ll just dust ours off. Right?” Anders cocks his head at me.
He’s joking. Only, I have several in New York. The unfortunate thing is, I need to come clean to more people than just Emily. Anders too.
The next morning, I close the door behind Thayer and sit on the edge of the bed. I didn’t tell her yesterday morning when I could have. I need to do it today. The days are only going to get busier as we get closer to the wedding.
Emily’s eyes are cracked. “Morning.”
“Morning.” I take her hand and kiss her knuckles.
She blows out a breath as her eyes open the rest of the way. “Lilith asked me if Thayer minds you coming into our room in the morning.”
“What did you say?”
“I said that . . . You know, I don’t remember what I said. I sort of blacked out. Something about how you’re helping with my foundation and it’s the only quiet time we can work on it. So if she asks . . .”
“I’m an expert in youth sports.”
“I bet you are. What did you play growing up?”
“Interestingly enough, nothing. And that kind of segways into what I want to talk to you about.”
“Nothing, really? I don’t know why, but I find that hard to believe.”
“Because I’m tall. I’ve gotten asked if I play basketball my whole life . . .”
“Basketball. You’re tall for sure, but I would have thought lacrosse or hockey.”
“I’ve played pond hockey. It’s fun. But no sports. And before you ask, it wasn’t because my parents couldn’t afford it. They scrimped and saved so my siblings could do any sport they wanted. My older sister was a goalie. That was expensive, but they managed. I was at school.”
“Not that you had to play sports, but most—”
“I’m leading you astray. I’m going to rip the Band-Aid off.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“Yeah, sorry. Not how I wanted to do this. I didn’t play sports, or go to football games or the prom, because I was at college.”
Her forehead furrows.
“I was thirteen.”
The confusion swirls in her eyes.
“I own a successful company, though I retired to become a deckhand. Let me backtrack. To my company, I’m Griffin Stone. To my family, I’m Ryder Dempsey. The name I was born with. It’s a little like Oliver but even more of a split life.”
She shakes the sleep off. “How did . . . how did you end up with a split life?”
I pull her onto my lap. “Let me start over. I skipped from second grade to middle school. I passed two of my sisters in grade levels. They started being called the dunce Dempseys. All because of my little seven-year-old self.”
Emily furrows her brow. “Third grade is eight.”
“I skipped kindergarten.”
“Of course.” She laughs. “I skipped kindergarten too. Doesn’t seem that impressive now.”
I hug her tight. The truth is, if I ever decide to have kids, I won’t let them skip a minute of their childhood.
“Right, so how did you get a new name?”
“My uncle paid a friend and poof, I had a social security number, birth certificate, and a new name, Griffin Stone. My grandmother’s maiden name is Stone, and remember I was only nine .
. . I liked the name Griffin. I went off to my new school.
And my siblings didn’t have to be compared to me. At least at school.
“Things snowballed. Articles were written about me, and I was glad that none of that came back onto my siblings. It’s not fun being called dumb when you’re not.
They’re not dumb at all; their brains just don’t work like mine.
Actually, it’s a blessing. It took most of them a long time to see that.
But they do now. We get along better now that I’m retired.
The college funds I’ve set up for all my nieces and nephews might have helped win a few of the more stubborn Dempseys over.
But I’m happy to do it. What I wasn’t going to do anymore was kill myself with eighty-hour workweeks when I knew I had enough to live on for the rest of my life.
And live well. I’d been on yachts before with colleagues doing deals.
Every time, I was way more interested in what the crew was doing than the deal I was supposed to be closing or the contacts I needed to make.
I remember the day I decided I needed to quit and change direction. ”
“Yeah, what was it?”
“The crew was hooking up to empty the bilge, and I was more interested in how they did it than anything I’d done in the last few weeks.
I peppered them with questions, until I know they were more than happy I was gone when we pulled back into port.
I’d however already read every yachting manual the Wi-Fi had enough strength to download.
And I signed up for a certification course the following month.
Under my real name. Something I never did. I didn’t know in that moment, but—”
“Your subconscious knew.”
“Exactly. Sometimes you just know.”