Chapter 19 - Sean #2
“I’ll help.” Ruby grabbed two empty glasses.
Bill and I stayed seated, as conversation switched from Sam talking about medicine to the golf course where he worked, then to golf.
At one point, I excused myself to use the bathroom.
The hallway led me past hollow-core doors to the bathroom, a door from the kitchen. It was tiled in that faded ’90s ranch style. The house layout was one of the many the real estate agent had shown me last year when I was house hunting. The thin walls had turned me off instantly.
I washed my hands, then froze mid-reach for the towel.
“I’m not doing this right now.” Mel’s voice, low but firm, could be heard through the wall.
“You brought him for lunch, fresh and dressed like that, from a plane that landed this morning?” Ruby’s voice was incredulous.
“Mom, I’m twenty-eight.”
“He’s older, divorced, and the whole world watches what he does. That’s a lot of baggage, Melanie. That’s not you.”
“Vince was the safe one you wanted for me. Where did that get me?”
“He has a future now—”
“And Sean is jobless?”
“Vince is predictable, he’s steady. We understand his world of finance. It’s the kind of life your father and I understood before everything fell apart.” Ruby’s voice tightened. “Sports… that’s another universe. Flashy one year, gone the next.”
“You understand him because he’s convenient for you. You never stomach seeing me want something for myself unless it’s your vision, your approval,” Mel snapped.
I walked back to the dining room.
Sam gave me a look. “Bathroom line?” Her eyebrows arched, in their own silent drumroll, making what I’d heard loud.
“Long story,” I said. One with a formidable mother, a fierce Mel, and my talent for unintentional eavesdropping.
Mel came in holding the cake, smiling, Ruby followed behind her.
I smiled back, but something had shifted in the way I saw her.
Beneath her confidence and sass wasn’t only the shyness I liked to tease out.
It was insecurity, emotional smallness; a by-product of years of being measured and corrected for how she appeared rather than who she was.
Good thing it seemed Ruby didn’t know the branch I hailed from. If she ever sniffed out my dad’s story—the alcoholic in and out of rehab—she’d strike a match without hesitation.
In pro sports, skeletons don’t stay buried. You hope no one opens the wrong closet during this critical stretch of the season. I’d lived through that dread once, watching the lock jiggle, knowing it could all spill out. I wasn’t ready for the smell of that mess to fill the room again.
“How big a piece do you want?” Sam asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“What a question, Sam,” I said with mock offense. “As a doctor, you should know I can’t burn calories like the young ones anymore.”
She laughed and served me.
“By the way,” I added, giving the moment a beat for my words to land, “have you ever considered geriatrics? My hip’s about to give out.”
Everyone laughed, except Ruby, who only smiled faintly.
As the conversation wound down, I leaned back, taking in the room. The sofa and drapes matched a little too perfectly, and family photos lined the mantel in symmetry. Ruby’s world, orderly and precise. A sharp contrast to Mel, who stood her ground against it.
When I got up to leave, Mel and Sam both walked me to my car.
“Thanks for taking my sister home… again,” Sam said, glancing sideways at Mel.
“Shut up, Sam,” Mel muttered, and Sam laughed.
“I mean it.” Sam’s voice softened as she turned to me. “You showing up to ward off the prearranged marriage is having Mel’s back.”
I cracked up at ‘arranged marriage.’ “No problem, Sam. I’ve got her back, her front, and her side. I’m an all-terrain boyfriend.”
“Can’t wait to hear more,” she said before turning back to the house.
I turned to Mel. “I like spending time with you and your family.”
“I’m happy you came.”
“Off to prep for tomorrow and try not to think about my manhood on life support after the no-kiss clause and fortress pillows.”
She chuckled and kissed me on the cheek. “Try not to dream about me too loudly.”
I drove off, the house shrinking in the rearview mirror, but the conversation I’d overheard loud in my head. You don’t really know someone until you get under their roof, until you hear what gets said when the doors are closed.
Ruby’s grip on Mel was persistent, practiced, and years deep. A hold that didn’t loosen with time, but settled into expectations, in the way you second-guessed yourself. And you didn’t always recognize it until someone showed you a different way to carry that weight.
I’d seen it before. My dad didn’t use rules; he used guilt and charm to twist me into knots until I couldn’t tell who I was or what I wanted.
That was when I was starting out: a rising player, full of promise, sharp on the ice, and clueless off it.
Hell, if not for a coach who stepped in and pulled me into mentorship, I might’ve stayed tangled in that mess.
My dad’s ways were different from Ruby’s, but the result was the same—making yourself smaller to keep someone else comfortable.
Mel had fight in her but still shrank in ways she didn’t see.
She didn’t realize how her shoulders curved, or how she got quieter around Ruby.
Mel probably thought she was standing her ground, but I could see the retreat under the surface.
My coach’s brain kept blowing the whistle, ready to jump in, but this wasn’t about plays or strategy.
This was about her. And I wanted her to know I was the guy who not only cared, but who also stood beside her.