Page 24 of Embracing Trust

The trust issues started early in my life. When I was in second grade, Jenna Ackerman and her parents moved in two doors down from me. She was the same age and we both loved dolls and riding our bikes. We became fast friends. Our mothers joked that we were twins separated at birth. One day, when I was around eleven years old, I went to Jenna’s house to play. When I got to the front door, I saw my father in the living room with Jenna’s mother. I blinked several times—just staring into the window of the front door unable to believe what I was seeing. I didn’t knock, but ran home as quickly as I could, slammed my bedroom door and pretended to be sick for the rest of the evening. I didn’t want to face my father and my small eleven-year-old heart was broken. It was an early lesson in my life to never trust a man because you will only get hurt. Unfortunately, as my life continued, my eleven-year-old heart was right. Men hurt me. Jeff and Ryan, and the ultimate hurt from my father. Even though my father’s been gone for more than ten years now, his betrayal still haunts me. I would’ve never guessed that his betrayal would be what ended up causing his death.

Chapter Twelve

Ryan

I slip on my sunglasses when I step outside. The light breeze blows across my face, and I take a deep breath. It’s a gorgeous Sunday in Monroe, Texas. I’ve only been home three days and I’m already exhausted. I spent my first few days emersed in Kevin and Amy’s wedding. Today, after six years in the Army, I’ll see my family.

My brother Patrick who is only 14 months my junior—and my best friend growing up—is a lifesaver. Not only are he and his wife letting me live with them, but he’s also hiring me to work for his construction company. I’m going to take a few weeks off and unwind before I get back to work. This first week I’ll be staying at my parents’ house.

My parents, Cullen and Kate McCormick, still live in my childhood home on Walker Street in Hamilton Texas, the next town over from Patrick and Lydia in Monroe. Being one of six boys was a guarantee for constant chaos and commotion. Always trying for that daughter—much to my mother’s chagrin—the McCormick house was dedicated to all things male.

When Patrick, Lydia, and I arrive and pull into the driveway of the two-story Craftsman-style dwelling I once called home, nothing much has changed. The tire swing still hangs from the oak tree in the front yard. Mom’s begonias are in full bloom in the flower beds and the wooden swing rocks in the breeze on the large porch. The front door opens, and my family comes pouring out and practically trample one another as they race down the steps.

The next thing I know, my mom takes the lead and charges ahead of everyone else as she reaches me first. She latches onto me like a tiny linebacker and practically collapses my lungs as she squeezes me.

“Ryan. Welcome home.” She releases me and steps back to get a better look. “Oh, my goodness.” Her lip quivers and her eyes are damp.

Oh no. Please. No waterworks here.

Our reunion consists of my parents, three of my five brothers, my sister-in-law, and my brother Aidan’s girlfriend or date or whatever. Can’t be sure with that guy. When I get the rundown, I find out that my oldest brother Sean, who is a doctor in Omaha, Nebraska couldn’t make it down. Liam, who’s two years my junior is on a biking trip with a group of friends, but sends his best wishes, according to Mom.

My youngest brother Finn is here for the festivities along with our next-door neighbor, Jessica. Finnegan was fourteen when I left, and he and Jessica were always at each other’s throats while we were growing up. This is quite a change.

Before I can catch my breath, I’m grabbed and pulled into hugs. It’s the typical McCormick gathering—everyone talking at once, laughing, joking.

“Hey, bro,” Aiden grins. We start with a handshake and then we embrace for a quick hug, firmly patting each other’s backs. “You’re lookin’ good, man.”

My brother Aiden—three years my senior—is here with his “flavor-of-the-month” Anna or Hannah or something like that. I didn’t catch it in the cacophony of laughs and voices.

Dad cuts in and gives me a side hug. “Good to see you, Ryan. You look good.”On the outside, but if you could see my insides, you’d know I’m a mess.

Finnegan steps out from behind Dad and I’m stunned to see the scrawny 14-year-old kid I used to pick on has grown into a beefy college sophomore.

“What the hell happened to you, shrimp?” I ask as I give him a strong hug.

“Nice hair,” he says with a deep chuckle. “You remember, Jessica, right?”

“I do.” I look at Jessica and give her a nod. “Good to see you again.”

“You, too. Welcome home,” she says with a grin that shows her now perfect white teeth minus the braces.

I raise my eyebrows to Finn, and he shrugs with a smirk.

I take a deep breath and sigh. Damn, it feels good to be back.

I’m not surprised when we step into the house and the aroma of what I can only assume is a huge meal, wafts into my nose.

Sure as hell beats Army food.

“Looks like you spent some time with the weight bench,” Aidan jokes as we enter the living room. I take a spot on the couch as the rest of my family files in and sits down.

I look around the living room—the room we once watched TV and did our homework. It’s changed. New carpet, new furniture, and new pictures on the walls.

“Hey, what happened to that farm scene picture?” I ask as I take inventory of the new décor.

“The one above the couch?” Mom asks. “Probably in the attic.” She chuckles.

“Now since we don’t have any of you wild delinquents in our house, we’ve been able to replace the furniture and your mom changed the pictures.” Dad sits in a new-looking recliner in the same spot as the previous one.

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