Chapter 24
Ryan
Everything feels hot and sweaty. I changed clothes three times and showered four times this morning.
I am wearing jeans and a long-sleeved dress shirt that covers all my tattoos, to a barbecue party on a hot Saturday afternoon. The cotton collar of my shirt scrapes my skin making it itch. Mom and Owen have had a good laugh at my expense all morning.
My nerves pick up as we enter the large gates of Ishika’s three-story home. Her house is a fucking mansion. The barbecue area is set on an expanded deck, close to the swimming pool. Everyone here most definitely owns luxury cars and holiday homes. I feel so out of place but I am here for my girl.
Ishika spots me first and comes hurdling down in my direction.
She looks beautiful in a cute ocean blue top and denim shorts.
She has yellow and orange bangles on her dainty wrists and designer sunglasses covering her stunning eyes.
She comes and hugs my arm tightly. Perching her sunglasses on top of her head, she looks at me.
“Hi.” She smiles.
“Hey,” I reply, handing her a box of chocolate cupcakes.
“Did you make them? I better hide these. I don’t want to share them with anyone,” she says, tucking the box under her arm. She notices Mom and Owen standing next to me.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Harper. I mean, Marcy. Let me show you around.”
She leads us toward the deck where everyone is spread out sipping beer and chatting among themselves.
“That’s my mom and dad.” Ishika points toward the middle-aged guy, who is manning the barbecue in his white polo shirt and khaki shorts.
He’s got thick glasses on and a full head of salt-and-pepper hair.
Next to him is her mom, dressed elegantly in a sundress and her diamond jewelry glittering in the sun.
I feel like I need a smoke. I don’t smoke often; it’s been months since I’ve craved a cigarette. But today is different.
I have never liked a girl before. I have never met a girl’s parents before. This girl, my Ishika, her parents are important. I fucking love this girl. So it matters, the impressions I leave on her parents will affect our relationship. This is a fucking big deal.
Her dad walks over to me and gives me a firm handshake, introducing himself. Handing me a beer, which I accept but I won’t be drinking. He directs me to a chair.
So the questionnaire begins. “Ryan, so glad you could come. So tell me why a cooking show when you own a garage?”
“I don’t own the garage, sir. I work there for a living. And the cooking show is to see where it will take me and if there is a future for me in the food industry.”
“So you are keeping your options open, that’s a smart move.
We should all have a plan B to fall back upon if plan A doesn’t work.
Have you ever thought of enrolling in a culinary institute?
Ishika tells me you cook like an old Italian nonna.
” Mr. Fernandes laughs. “There is good money in the restaurant business, Ryan.”
“I’m more of a hands-on experience, kind of guy, sir. My father taught me everything I know about food. I’m going to give this cooking show my best shot and see how things go from there. Hopefully, it will give me some direction.”
“My deepest condolences. I am sorry about your father, Ryan. I’m sure things will work out for the best. Good luck with the cooking show.
Exciting new adventures await you both. You’ll be traveling around the country getting closer to your goals, and Ishika will be heading to California to fulfill her own dreams to become a dental surgeon.
Not too long now, only four more months. I am going to miss my little girl.”
“Four months?” My heart begins to race.
“Her tickets are booked, the admission is confirmed.”
Fuck! She is leaving me in four months. I don’t have enough time.
Mr. Fernandes introduces me to his colleagues and friends, while I nod, answer more questions about my personal life, and shake hands, I feel hollow inside. Excusing myself, I move away from the group.
Atleast Owen and Mom are having a great time. Mom has hit it off with Mrs. Fernandes. Owen has found a couple of his old school friends and is catching up with them. And I don’t know where Ishika disappeared but she was talking to a group of rich kids a few minutes ago.
As I sit alone, the whispers begin to brew. I catch the women by the pool side staring at me, fear in their eyes, murmuring about why someone like me is in a gathering like this.
“His dad was mad. I hear madness runs in the family,” one of them says, making a disgusted face. It’s loud enough for heads to turn.
“They found drugs in his blood when he died. That fellow has a criminal record, doesn’t he? Why is a nice girl like Ishika with someone like him?”
“Someone should warn her parents. This is not good.”
“Last summer Ishika was in love with Brent. Girls these days are so fast, I tell ya.”
“Nah, she’s a smart girl, simply having a little fun before she settles down with the right man. Mark my words, she’s gonna end up marrying someone like Brent.”
Looking away, I try to shrug off the unease that stirs inside me.
She didn’t tell me she was leaving so soon.
We didn’t talk about anything confirming a permanent relationship.
We didn’t talk about a future together.
I am too fucking terrified to ask. I don’t want to lose her.
Why would she choose me over Brent? I have nothing to give her.
The lies, the blames, their prejudices, the distorted truth that still spins and weaves around me, even all these years after my father’s death, I have to live with this for the rest of my life. There is always that one person who promises to know what happened that night.
“Ryan? I didn’t expect to see you here.” That fucking patronizing voice makes my blood boil every single time.
I turned to face the asshole who always manages to bring out the worst in me. Billy Bolton, my uncle. My mother has two sisters. She currently lives with her older sister while her younger sister is married to Billy Bolton.
He is the principal of one of the most elite private schools in New Jersey. The same man who was Ishika and Owen’s principal once. He was also an investor in my father’s restaurant business.
I used to think he was on our side. I too fell prey to his sweet talk like everyone else, once.
Today I know better. He’s a wolf hiding in sheep’s clothing and he’s covering up something big.
I’ve been trying for years to find evidence against Billy because my gut says that there is a link between him and the death of my father, Karlton Harper.
“Billy, how do you know Ryan?” Mr. Fernandes asks.
Billy Bolton makes a big show disclosing how he is related to me.
He plays the role of a kind and responsible uncle, who cared for the teenage boys when their parents failed to do their job.
The story of how he turned the two stray young boys into respectable citizens of society.
Then he goes on to reveal details of my mother’s addiction.
I watch helplessly as Ishika walks over to Mr. Fernandes and listens to the entire story. Her face pales as Billy dishes out more dirt about my fucked-up life.
I was sixteen when the cops knocked on our door that night, stating that they had found my dead father.
That they needed someone to come in to identify the body.
I stopped being a kid from that moment onward.
I went in to the morgue with the cops. I made the phone calls, the arrangements.
I hugged my grieving mother and brother tight a week later when the coffin was lowered to the ground.
Owen was fourteen when Dad died. The cops had waited until I called my mom’s elder sister, Aunty Anne.
It was only after she came over that they explained my dad had jumped off a building in the middle of the night.
They were convinced it was an accident. There was no suicide note found.
When the autopsy results came back, they found traces of recreational drugs and cannabis in his bloodstream.
My father smoked pot sometimes, but never on the job, and from what I knew he never did hard-core drugs.
There were no suspects, all findings of the investigation returned as inconclusive.
My mother refused to come to terms with her husband’s death.
When she locked herself in her bedroom and cried for hours, refusing to speak to anyone, she was prescribed anti-depressants to cope with her grief.
The meds helped for some time. Owen and I kept looking forward to those good days where for a few hours, life wasn’t a challenge, where Mom would smile and talk to us at the dinner table.
I kept buying her the pills, sometimes from a street dealer my neighbor introduced me to when a prescription wasn’t available.
I was overlooking the symptoms of drug abuse.
I had overlooked her trembling hands and bloodshot eyes for weakness and lack of sleep.
I wasn’t around the house much as I was always working odd jobs.
Laborious ones that left my body aching and sore.
I didn’t care if Mom took a few pills to keep herself sane.
Then one night she ran out of pills and the hysteria that followed shocked me enough to take notice of her condition. She had an addiction and she needed help. Since I was still a minor that meant Owen needed a guardian until I turned eighteen.
Owen was a shy, sweet kid and only had one friend in school but no friends in the neighborhood.
He was also a lot shorter for his age back then, and he would cry easily if anyone mentioned my father’s death.
The older boys in the neighborhood found this entertaining and they bullied and beat him up from time to time.
I wasn’t around to save him as I was pulling long hours at the diner.
I needed to make money for the bills. So, when Billy and his wife, Aunty Wendy, offered to take Owen with them; give him a safer home and new private school where he could have better options for a more successful life, I made the choice for Owen and sent him away.
He was better off without me. I didn’t want him to see Mom at her lowest point.
Owen went to a new home with Billy that night, cutting off all ties with me.
Ishika and her father listen with rapt attention as Billy elaborates how he took a teenager into his home and taught him to become a better man than his father.
He is very tactful in his approach, he blames the system, the politics of this nation, and how little the common man is aware of the socio-economic gap that exists still.
There is only so much bullshit I’m willing to listen to.
I resist the urge to punch Billy’s throat, I am not going to disrespect Ishika’s home and her father’s party.
Without another word, I exit the barbecue area.
“Ryan!” Ishika stops me in my tracks.
There is pity in her eyes.
I shake my head, telling her not to follow me.
She looks conflicted but doesn’t stop me as I leave.