17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Simeon
R yan burst into the prefab on a gust of wind. Fortunately, he managed to close the door behind him before anything else blew in. Including the pounding rain.
Instantly, I knew something was wrong. I’d been installing one of the pot lights above the kitchen—because the electrician had set up all the wiring yesterday while I’d been away. I thought he’d do the lights, but he’d left them for me. He knew I could manage them, though, and he was likely trying to keep his bill as low as possible.
Nice of him.
Except now I was atop a ladder and Ryan was bent over with his hands against his thighs and breathing shallowly.
I scrambled down the ladder and headed to him. Slowly, I placed my hand on his back. Does he feel this, through the coat? Is this the right thing to do?
Then he arched back into my touch. Like a cat might.
So I held my hand steady as he slowly calmed.
“So stupid.” He barely whispered the words—and I couldn’t be certain I’d heard them correctly or if I was assuming those might be the words he was using. Still, eventually he pushed against my hand and I used it to guide him up. When he was more or less upright, his gaze caught mine.
Then he looked away.
Taking a breath—and finding courage I didn’t know I had—I snagged his chin and slowly guided him to face me. I ensured the touch was feather-light so he’d know he could pull away and I’d let him go.
“B-bad session? You weren’t gone long.”
He shivered. “Justin was busy and then his son…” He held up his hand. “Nice kid. Asked me to play a video game with him. I ran.”
“Ah.” What am I supposed to say? “Angus is a g-good kid. Really good. H-helps me out sometimes.” And that usually meant I worked slower, but I didn’t care. The kid had his own trauma—including losing both parents by the time he was ten—so a kinship existed between the two of us. I’d found the courage to tell him about my parents dying and he’d shared how much he missed his parents. Then I told him how much my grandparents took care of me. And he assured me that Stanley and Justin were the best dads, aside from his first dad, of course. That he knew how lucky he was. Oh, and that he had a Shih-tzu puppy he loved named Liba and a foster sister he wished he could keep.
No doubt he had a great life. From great grief had come great happiness. But he felt guilty being happy when his parents were gone. Although I’d been relieved my father was no longer around to abuse me, I also sometimes felt guilty being happy with Nanny and Bops.
I’d mentioned all this to Justin. I didn’t like going behind Angus’s back, but I thought it was important Justin know what was going on. He assured me that he was happy Angus was sharing—that it was a healthy sign. And that he’d look out for any signs of distress and if I spotted anything to come back to him if I had concerns.
If Angus asked Ryan to play a video game? That was a big deal. The kid read books all the time. I’d never seen him with a game. “Oh?” I tried to smile.
“I probably scared the kid.” Ryan winced. “Yeah, I probably did. I should apologize. I mean, talk about an overreaction.”
“Why don’t I t-text Rainbow? You said Justin is in a s-session? I’ll p-pop off a note to her that I have you and you’re okay. And t-that you’re sorry.”
He might not be, of course, but the expression of gratitude on his face assured me I’d nailed it.
“And m-maybe get yourself a drink of water? I put a couple of bottles in the f-fridge.” I offered my best reassuring smile.
After a moment, he nodded and made his way to the fridge.
—I have Ryan with me. He’s going to be okay. Apologies to Angus if he scared him. —
—Glad to hear he’s okay. Angus is fine. I explained in a way he understands. Will text when Justin’s free. —
—Okay. Thanks. —
She signed off with three thumbs-up.
Ryan sipped his water. His color wasn’t as hectic of a red. His pupils weren’t dilated. His breathing was back to normal.
“Rainbow says she’ll t-text when Justin’s free.”
“Uh.” He drew in a deep breath. “I don’t think I’m ready to examine my reaction too closely. I mean…” He scratched his beard. “In some ways, it’s simple.”
“B-but…” How do I put this tactfully? “Y-you’ve had two…episodes in two days.”
“Yeah.” He winced. “Which is what I was at before. Then, for a bit, I was doing okay.” He met my gaze. “You helped with that.”
I tilted my head.
“With you…I don’t know.” He recapped the bottle. “I can just be myself. I don’t have to pretend.”
“D-do you pretend with Justin? Sorry—” I shoved the word out. “—n-none of my business.”
“Maybe.” He smiled. “The answer is sometimes . I know I should be honest, but I’m struggling to admit how bad things can be. And being triggered by a video game is pretty bad.”
“M-maybe.”
“Yeah.” He stood straighter. “What can I do to help?” He pointed to the ladder. “Need a spotter?”
I shook my head. “That was the l-last thing I’m doing today. Plan was to head out.”
“Home?”
“Nah. Thursday nights my grandparents have a g-group of friends over. Anyway, they don’t n-need me dropping in. I take the night to myself and head t-to Fifties.”
“Best burgers in Mission City?”
I laughed. “Uh, yeah.”
“Great.” He winced. “Sorry, I think I just invited myself.”
“Y-yes. I can’t wait for you to s-see the place. D-do you want to text Rainbow or should I?”
“I’ll do it. She didn’t say as much, but I got the feeling things were bad—” He pressed a hand to his lips.
I nodded. “I w-won’t say anything.” I didn’t even know who Justin’s patient was, but even if I did, I’d never repeat what I might see.
As Ryan sent a text—which was going to take forever on his flip phone—I cleaned up as best I could. We were nearly finished with the flooring in here. I’d do a thorough cleaning, and finish up the little extra things. The furniture was being delivered next week. I’d be putting together the bed, bookshelves, and dresser. Fortunately, the cabinet that would contain the television was already constructed and several big guys would deliver it. The thing was massive—taking up much of one wall.
Oh, then I had to do the dining table and chairs. Rainbow had also arranged for all the accouterments to be delivered. That was the word she’d used. To describe blinds, drapes, cutlery, lamps, towels, sheets, blankets, and a bunch of other things. She might’ve assumed I’d leave everything up to her, but I intended the house to be show-ready when I ceremonially handed her the keys.
“I’m ready.”
I glanced up from the flooring I’d been studying to face Ryan.
His eyes were bright, his coloring was back to normal, and he looked…gorgeous. Even in the crappy light of the gray day, he looked amazing.
And he’s going to dinner with me. That was pretty cool.
He pointed outside. “The rain’s eased up. I’m still damp, but I can dry off in the car.”
I hadn’t noticed, but he did look a little bedraggled. I’d been more focused on his emotional state than his physical one.
“Is F-Fifties on your map of Mission City? It’s downtown.”
“Not far from my apartment. I pass it when I drive to Dr. Raymond’s office.”
“G-great. So I’ll follow you and we’re good.”
He cocked his head.
I shrugged.
After a moment, he smiled. “Okay, I get it.”
I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to say that. I was just thinking of things from a safety perspective. Better if we went at the same time. I yanked my keys out of my pocket.
He nodded. “Okay. Uh…thank you.”
This time, I cocked my head.
“For…not freaking out. Or panicking when I came barging in. I did enough for both of us, I think.”
“It’s f-fine. No worries.” I was just so damn grateful he felt able to lose it in front of me. To have his moment where he needed comfort. And he’d sought it from me. I wanted to be his safe space.
As he was slowly becoming mine. Having more friends is never a bad thing.
We headed out, and I hummed Taylor Swift melodies all the way to Fifties.
Ryan stood by his car as I pulled in. He’d made the left light onto the highway and I hadn’t wanted to risk it since I got the yellow. He offered me a grin when I got out of my truck. “Thought you’d never make it.”
I grinned back and nudged his arm with mine as I passed him. I got to the door a fraction of a second before him and I held it open for him.
“How chivalrous.” He winked, then headed inside.
The smell of grease hit me full force as I stepped in behind him. My saliva glands kicked into high gear. Memories flooded into my mind. My grandparents used to bring me here every Friday night from the time I moved in until recently. For years, my grandfather would drive us down and I’d sit crammed in the back seat. Then one day, when I realized he pretty much didn’t drive anywhere else, I offered.
We piled into the Buick with Nanny in the backseat with a big grin on her face.
She patted my shoulder and called me her chauffeur.
My grandfather’s face was less pinched. He never drove again.
About a year ago, Bops made an excuse for us not to come, saying something about the crowds.
Fifties? Crowds? We had always arrived late afternoon—long before the dinner rush.
I hadn’t pressed.
The next week, Nanny had an excuse.
I never brought it up again. For the record, I wasn’t certain the real reason, but I respected them not wanting to come anymore. I took them to their medical appointments, but pretty much did everything else. Without hesitation. I wouldn’t have them forever.
“Hey Simeon.” Sarabeth grinned from behind the counter. She glanced at Ryan. “And Simeon’s friend?”
Ryan shot me a glance before grinning at Sarabeth. “Ryan.” He pressed closer to me.
“Great.” Her blue eyes flashed pleasure. Possibly because I wasn’t alone? “Grab any booth you like.”
Although I should rightfully sit at the counter to save booth space when I came alone, she always found a booth for me. Just…comfort.
I gestured down the aisle between two lines of booths. “B-Back okay?”
“Yep.” Ryan sauntered that way and I followed, trying not to sneak a peek at his ass.
Nothing to be seen. The peacoat was too long.
And why are you trying to ogle his ass? Curiosity? Admittedly, I didn’t spend much time checking out my friends’ asses. Aside from politeness, I wasn’t attracted to any of them. Hold up. Are you…attracted to Ryan? I was beginning to think so.
He slid into the booth so his back rested against the wall. He gazed around the restaurant, clearly taking in the ambiance. The posters from the fifties, the black-and-white photographs of Mission City back then, the newspaper article announcing the opening of the restaurant, and the jukebox painting. Oh, and the pinup waitress in the fifties outfit with the poodle skirt, blouse, and scarf around her neck.
“This is quite the place.” Ryan snagged a plastic-covered menu. “Bright.”
They keep the lighting low. I think it’s dim. Does he mean the wall coverings? The menu? Or do we perceive light differently? All were entirely possible.
To be sociable, I snagged the menu. I already knew what I was having. What would be interesting was what Ryan chose.
Sarabeth arrived with two glasses of ice water. “You know what you’re having?”
Ryan gestured for me to go first.
I grinned.
Sarabeth laughed. “Well, I thought you might want something else. You’re mixing things up today.”
You’re in here with someone other than your grandparents . She’d never say that, though. And perhaps that wasn’t what she was thinking. Maybe I was just projecting.
Ryan closed the menu. “As good as the meatloaf sounds, several people have told me that you make the best burgers in Mission City.”
“All of Cedar Valley.” Sarabeth winked. “Award-winning.”
“Well, then, I’m definitely interested. I’ll have the one with onions, tomato, lettuce, and pickles. Oh, and can I get onion rings instead of fries?”
“You bet.” She grinned. “Can I start you out with a milkshake?”
“T-that might ruin his appetite. He d-doesn’t know how big they are.” Although now she’d brought it up, I had a hankering for one.
“We could share?” Ryan eyed me.
I nodded vigorously.
“Do you have a favorite flavor?”
Sarabeth snickered. “He likes tiger tail. You know—”
Ryan mimicked retching.
Both Sarabeth and I laughed. I couldn’t be offended if someone didn’t want orange cream and black licorice. Did I feel they were missing out on one of life’s pleasures? Yes. Would I begrudge them their choice? No.
“B-blueberry?” I met Ryan’s gaze.
His eyes lit. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a blueberry milkshake. Sounds delicious.”
Sarabeth snagged our menus. “Coming right up.” She headed back to the front of the diner.
Ryan gazed around avidly, as if soaking up everything. “I’ve never been in a place like this.”
“Not even in V-Vancouver?”
He wrinkled his nose. “I…” He sighed. “My dad didn’t take me out much. We had an executive chef who prepared meals—when my father was around—and a housekeeper who took care of me when he wasn’t. I’m not a complete snob, but I didn’t get to go out often.”
I wanted to ask about friends. Or other family members. I wanted to demand to know who had watched out for him when his father hadn’t been around. Not your place. “Have you b-been to White Spot?”
He shook his head.
“R-really?” White Spot was a British Columbia legend. I thought everyone who lives here has gone at least once. I smiled. “Another n-night I get to take you. They h-have a Triple-O burger that’s amazing.”
“Not as good as here though, right?” He winked.
I considered. “D-different. T-they use Triple-O sauce. I l-like that too.”
“Well, another night—”
An almighty crash sounded from behind me—toward the kitchen.
Instinctively, I turned—ready to hop out of the booth if Sarabeth needed help. She really was a lovely young woman with a complicated home life my grandmother had explained once. I always left an extra big tip for her.
She popped out from behind the counter and waved her hands. “Looks like we’re going to have to fire the new guy.” Her smile might’ve been rueful, but we all knew the owners wouldn’t fire someone for a few broken dishes.
“You need a hand?” A guy spoke up.
Sarabeth waved him off. “All good, Rusty. If I need a computer programmer to fix the damn cash register, I’ll let you know.”
My chuckle mixed with other patrons’. Rusty was a computer whiz, and Fifties had an old-fashioned cash register that had been around at least since the day the place opened. How it kept working was beyond me. How do you get parts to fix it? Oh, maybe it just never breaks. They sure don’t make things the way they used to. Smiling to myself, I turned back to Ryan.
And my heart sank.