Page 38 of Christmas in His Arms

"No, not at all. They don’t know yet, that I know of, anyway. My problem is bigger than that. It doesn't matter whether Walt approves or not. Carrie lied to me, just like Kate. I can't get past it." The scowl on my face was so severe, my forehead hurt. I rubbed the spot between my eyes and wished I could teleport away from here forever.

"Well, Ryan, you haven’t even talked to her. Maybe things aren't what they seem." He opened his hands and gestured as he spoke.

"No, I'm sure things are exactly as they seem. She promised there was no way she could get pregnant, and now she is. That's a lie." Now my anger had been roused again. No one could come in and tell me that what I was thinking or feeling was wrong, or that I was mistaken. I knew what happened. I was the only one other than Carrie who knew.

"Well," he said, sighing, "after twenty years of marriage, I could tell you one thing. Love is patient and love is kind, and when youlove someone, you talk things through and forgive." He stood up and slapped the fronts of his thighs. "I'm heading out. Thanks for taking care of those things. Let me know what I can do to help."

Before Sam even left my office, my phone rang. I didn't want to answer, but if word got out to Helen that I was feeling better and I didn't answer her call, she would know something was going on with me. Especially after I'd been around their house so much for so long, helping. I still wanted to be there for Walter, but I didn't trust myself around Carrie, and I figured she probably wanted some space too now that I'd ghosted her for so long.

So I swiped right and said, "Hey, Helen. What's up?"

"Oh, Ryan, it's so good to hear from you. I hope you're feeling better. I heard from Marge Evans that you'd been quite sick. I tried calling a few times." Helen sounded worried but relieved at the same time.

"Yes," I said, inwardly thanking Marge for having my back. "I'm feeling a bit better now. Just had a bit of work at the dealership only I could do." The lies felt like acid on my tongue, but I had to do what I had to do.

"Well, listen. Sick or not, Walter and I want you to come for Christmas Eve dinner the day after tomorrow. I'm serving the usuals, but if you want to bring a bottle of wine, I'd be happy with that." She spoke with authority as if I couldn't choose not to come, and I felt like my throat was closing up on me.

"Helen, that's nice of you, but I really don't think I should." My fake sickness was the least of my worries, but she didn’t know that. Carrie and I could not be in the same room right now. We'd go nuclear.

"Ryan, this request comes directly from Walter. You don't want to let him down, do you?" Her tone was chastising and motherly, but she was right. Long after Carrie left to return to Chicago, I'd still be close friends with Walt, and after his stroke, I hated to think he'd have a last request for me and I'd miss it because I wasn't there. He could have another stroke and no one knew when or if that would happen.

"Alright, you tell Walt I'll bring some Cubans for the back deck after dinner." My gut was churning. Forced proximity to Carrie was going to be the hardest thing I'd ever had to do, harder than laying Kate to rest. At least I'd had a year of mourning her while she was here before what happened. I had to start mourning Carrie now and I wasn’t ready, especially if she was seated next to me.

This was going to be torture.

29

CARRIE

Mom passed the dish of mashed potatoes to me and I took them and passed them on to Dad. He was almost completely back to normal as far as speech and feeding himself. He had a bit of work to do when it came to walking yet, but it was good to see him recovering. What was less than good was how Mom invited Ryan to dinner without informing me. It was her house and her party, so she could do what she wanted, but it would have been nice to have a heads up.

He looked about as happy as I was, sullen face, furrowed brow, pursed lips. Dad even told him to stop being so grumpy, that it was Christmas, but nothing seemed to shake his mood. I tried to avoid eye contact as much as possible, but a few times, our eyes met and I almost started crying.

"So Ryan, how was your December? Did you finish the last quarter strong?" Mom took a bite of food and chewed thoughtfully as she waited for Ryan to answer. Mom and Dad had been talking a lot with only grunts or head nods from Ryan. This time, he'd have to give a complete answer, and I kept myhead down to avoid making him feel whatever it was he was feeling when he looked at me.

"Yeah, well Sam's been handling those numbers for me, but I think we're doing alright. We have a sale going on the rest of this week until New Year’s, and the new models are coming in too." His voice sounded strained, heavy with emotion. I noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the puffy bags. It looked like he'd spent a lot more time awake than he should have.

"That's so good, and did you have a better year this year than last?" Mom was full of questions, probably because the awkward silence of my grumpiness and Ryan's combined made the room so tense you could pluck the air like guitar strings.

"Yes, we did. Twenty percent more profit overall." The words rolled off his tongue languidly, like sad molasses out of the jar, reluctant to be devoured.

"Well, I'm done eating," Dad said. "Let's go unwrap our gifts."

Ryan draped his cloth napkin over his half-full plate and I stared at mine, realizing I'd hardly eaten too. Though, I had an excuse and Mom wouldn't complain about my not eating. Dad knew about the baby now too, against my wishes. Mom said he had a right to know and that I was being stubborn by not telling him. It only added to the weight I was feeling tonight, and I hoped Mom and Dad didn’t bring it up.

"Well, I'll help Walt," Ryan said, standing, and I knew this was my chance to sneak in a conversation with him. I had to put him on the spot whether he liked it or not. He might be angry, but he couldn't make a scene in front of both of my parents.

"Oh, Ryan, Mom has to get Dad his medicine now. Why don't you help me clear the table and Mom can help Dad?" I stood too,still not making eye contact. I didn't want to see the storm erupt in his eyes or watch his body language shift to rigid anger.

"Yes, that sounds perfect. Thank you, Carrie." Mom stood cheerfully and walked around to Dad's end of the table. Dad looked at Ryan with a bit of frustration, but he said nothing. Mom unlocked the wheelchair and took Dad out of the room as I started stacking plates.

I felt Ryan's eyes on me, glaring, seething, radiating every ounce of anger he could in my direction. He didn't move to collect plates. He just stood there watching me as tears were welling up. I hoped he would start the conversation because if I opened my mouth, I was going to vomit. I held too much unspoken emotion to say what I wanted to say, even though I'd been the one to create this opportunity.

Working in silence, I carried a stack of plates and silverware to the kitchen sink, then returned to see Ryan had collected the serving dishes. He walked past me without speaking to me, and the icy chasm between us got wider. I picked up a few glasses and a few pieces of stray silverware and headed back, but before I got there, he was already on a return trip to grab the last few things. This wasn't working. He was supposed to want to talk to me.

"Medicine is done! We're ready for gifts in here!" Mom called from the living room, and Ryan dumped his last load and made a beeline for the living room. I washed my hands and dried them slowly. I couldn’t force him to talk, but I had one more thing I could do to at least give us a space to do so.

My stomach turned again, and I took a deep breath to control my nerves. When I walked into the living room, Ryan wasn't here. I glanced around frantically, wondering what happened, andthought he'd just left without saying anything. I was supposed to leave for Chicago in two days, and if he didn't say goodbye, I was going to be devastated. If things worked out for me in the next two weeks, I'd be moving to New York. I had to have this talk before then.

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