Chapter 11 #2
When they had first lost the apartment and moved into his grandparents’ house, he hadn’t thought it was so bad.
He’d loved living with his grandparents, but it had been hard on his mother.
A teacher in the city hardly made any money, and her own parents hadn’t been making ends meet with their own sons to feed.
The island’s summer job had given her a respite from the cramped home with everyone.
Ryan had loved the inn because it was just the two of them. He’d had his mother’s full attention when they finally retreated to their room. She had sacrificed so much for him to be where he was. How could he not repay her by being his best self?
“I’ll do better,” Ryan said.
“You don’t have to do better for us,” Denny said. He patted Ryan’s chest. “But do better for you.”
He looked into his nephew’s eyes. Ryan’s guilt immediately penetrated his heart.
His drinking had been consistent since he’d left the NFL.
He used it as a crutch. Sure, he ran every day, and most would consider that healthy enough, but after his run, he turned into a frat boy, starting with a Bloody Mary, then moving on to a beer here or a drink there.
By dinner, he would have a good buzz going; by the time he got to bed, he’d pass out cold. “I know.”
“You should be asking yourself why you grab that drink or that woman or any of the junk you put yourself through,” Denny said. “I get you don’t have direction right now, but you’re acting like a man-child.”
Was it that obvious? “You’re right.”
“What happened to thinking about school, again?” Denny asked. “Maybe you need to go back. You never really studied back then. Maybe you could find a degree you’re interested in.”
The last thing he wanted was to go back to school. If it hadn’t been for football, he’d never have made it through. What could an ex-football player with a liberal arts degree do in today’s world?
“You should coach,” his uncle said. “See if there are any positions around. Maybe the local school needs someone.”
It sounded so cliché. Wasn’t that what all the players did nowadays? But then Ryan thought about his favorite times playing.
“Remember when you coached me?”
“Heck, yeah.” Denny leaned against the counter, eating a piece of bacon. “I loved every minute of it.”
Ryan smiled, thinking of all the different leagues he had joined throughout the years.
His favorite remained that first year with his uncle.
The magic the game had brought him. It had given him the confidence to work hard at something.
He’d learned to put himself on the line to protect his team.
He wouldn’t be the man he was today without the lessons on and off the field, or without his coaches guiding him along the way.
They had been his mentors. The father figures he had been missing. Even now, his uncle stepped up to the plate to knock some sense into him.
“Do you need help to get yourself straight?” Denny asked.
And that’s all that Ryan needed to hear. All the second-guessing, dark thoughts, and shame had been building to this point. He needed to clean up his act.
“I’m going to be okay,” he said to his uncle, going in for an embrace. “I promise. I’m good.”
His uncle patted him on the back. “Good, because I’m getting used to this kind of lifestyle, but I don’t think I could’ve hung out with that Miss America anymore.”
“You didn’t like Ainsley?” This surprised him. He would have thought the men in his family would’ve approved.
“She didn’t eat meat,” he said, scrunching up his face in disbelief. “Like, none.”
“She’s a vegetarian,” Ryan said.
“Exactly. What are you going to serve at Christmas? Or Easter? Chickpeas?”
The one meal he had invited his uncle over for in the city, Ainsley had made falafels.
“You want to come on a run with me?” he asked.
Denny shook his head. “I gotta get back to the city.”
“You’re leaving so soon?” Ryan didn’t want any of them to go, especially not his uncle.
Denny scraped his fork against the plate, getting the last bites of egg onto his last bite of toast. Then he placed the dish into the sink.
“Wish I could stay, but I’ve got a business to run,” he said.
The plumbing business his uncle had started years ago would have been Ryan’s had he not gotten his scholarship. That one decision had changed everyone’s life.
“When are you going to retire anyway?” Cece said, coming into the kitchen. She went straight to the refrigerator and pulled out another carton of eggs and bacon. “Thanks for cooking for yourself.”
“I offered some to the kid.” Denny pulled out a cigar.
“Ew, take that disgusting habit outside,” Cece said.
Denny stuck the butt of the cigar to the side of his mouth and kissed his little sister on the forehead, reminding Ryan of last night.
“I better get going, too,” he said, looking at the time. In less than twenty minutes, the golf cart store with coffee would be open. He needed to apologize to someone. “I need to talk to someone about a golf cart.”
“Oh!” Cece looked up. Her eyes brightened. “I think that’s a great idea. I want one of those if I’m staying for the summer.”
Both Denny and Ryan looked at his mother. Ryan almost laughed. “A great idea? I thought you didn’t like it here.”
“You know what?” Cece said. “I enjoyed myself last night.”
She pulled out a metal bowl and started breaking eggs. “I know you did, too. Maybe you were right. Maybe I need to remember what a beautiful place this island is. Seeing all my old friends and having the family here.”
Cece floated through the kitchen as she prepared breakfast for everyone who’d stayed, which were some of his cousins and family who were up and about the house and property.
“Auntie, you need help?” his cousin’s wife Natalie asked.
Cece handed over the bowl. “I’d love a whisking.”
Ryan stood motionless, observing this new attitude his mother had. She was now dancing around in the kitchen.
“We should turn on some music!” Cece hit her hip against her nephew’s wife. “Ryan, turn on some music.”
He twisted his face at the request, then pointed to his chest. “You want me to put music on?”
Never in his life had his mother ever put music on. Not even in her car. Nor did his mother dance around a room or seem happy to get help from someone. His mother never asked for help.
Was she really this happy because they were all together? Or had something else happened he wasn’t aware of?
“Who do you want to listen to?” he asked.
“Let’s start with some throwbacks.” She pointed to the ceiling. “How about putting on Patrice!”
Suddenly, Ryan’s aunt Jan, Cece’s older sister, came into the kitchen, her hands clapping the hook’s beat the second his mother said the artist’s first name. “Ooh! ‘Forget Me Nots’!”