Page 39 of Easy Reunion
“Wait.” He sits up. “You’re not kidding. You bought them a house?”
“No, what we did was pay off their mortgage. Pop-pop didn’t take kindly to it,” I reply defensively.
“I can imagine.”
I turn on him like I’ve just been transported back to Nana’s kitchen three years ago. “And why the hell shouldn’t I? I was clinging to life by my fingernails when I lived with them. They’re what kept me on this side of sane. So I paid off their mortgage—so what? I already owned my own home,” I argue hotly. Ry opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t let him. “Why shouldn’t they get a chance to live a life full of richness? Should I hoard it to myself, maybe buy some more shoes with it?”
“I was just going to say…”
“They taught me everything about the kind of person I should be and the love I deserve.”
“Then you should have bought them the house and a car.” When my head snaps around, his blue eyes are burning into mine. The hottest part of the flame is searing me as he continues to look at me without saying anything, but when he does, my heart backs up into my throat. “It’s hard for men to admit we’re not always doing the right thing. There’s something inside of us that makes us believe—sometimes stupidly—we’re responsible for the well-being of those we love. Sometimes, it takes a loved one to point out the error of our ways before we can let someone else help. And unfortunately, it’s often too late to make amends.”
My lips part because while I know what he’s saying is true about what happened with Pop-pop, I know he’s asking me more. The question is whether or not the forgiveness he’s seeking will be as generously offered as I did for my family.
And I just don’t know. Not yet.
“I think that depends on the transgression,” I whisper, lost in the swirling depths of hope and torment before he ducks his head so I can no longer see his face.
“So, quilts work?” he asks in an attempt to distract me.
“I think it was more the hug that came with it since Pop-pop brought them to Connecticut himself.”
Ry slips on a pair of sunglasses. “Good to know. Kelsey, I’d like to ta—”
Deciding to move us away from what appears to be a combustible conversation, I rudely interrupt, “What about your family? I know your sister is here.”
Ry’s smile is bittersweet. “Yes, Lisa’s here. She was teaching in Georgia, not too far from our family. She had a full life—great job, engaged to be married, planning her wedding, when she found out her college sweetheart was cheating on her.”
“Ouch.” I wince in empathy. Poor Lisa. But in my mind’s eye, I think of the beautiful woman I ran into at Cafe Du Monde. “She looks like she’s happy here though?”
“Yeah, she is. When it first happened, she was broken up into a million pieces. Mom and Dad offered for her to go home to Skidaway, but she’s almost twenty-nine. She couldn’t face the idea of that. So, I offered her a new start here. That was a few years ago.”
“Is she working?” I vaguely remember from that embarrassing interlude something about classes, but I can’t recall clearly.
Ry shakes his head. “She was, but she stopped at the end of the last school year. Now, she’s getting her masters in Psychology. She’s a certified teacher but wants to become a guidance counselor. She does some volunteer work as part of her course of study.” He lets out a short bark of a laugh. “I wonder what Mom and Dad are going to think when they realize Lisa plans on staying down here and not moving back to Georgia when she’s through with school.”
I gnaw on my lower lip. “Speaking from experience, I think they’ll be shocked and hurt but do everything in the world to cover it up.”
“Is that what happened with your grandparents?” I nod. Ry reaches over and rubs his hand over the top of mine in comfort? Empathy? Just because he wanted to touch me? I don’t know. “When?”
“When what?” I ask blankly because with the way his thumb is moving back and forth slowly over the top of my wrist, I’m feeling brain cells leak from my head and water the earth beneath us. It’s going to be brilliant grass, I think wildly when he squeezes my hand before letting it go.
“When did you tell them you weren’t coming home?” Ry asks me more succinctly.
I turn my head to avoid looking at him. I focus on a couple of Frisbee players, then a girl flying a kite with her father behind her. I shake my head, not wanting to answer.
“Kels?” There’s concern laced with worry in his voice. I’m not going to be able to put off answering him. But for some reason, I don’t want to because what I’m about to say is going to hurt us both, taking us from the idyllic peace we’ve enjoyed today into something much darker.
Our past.
He reaches over to touch my hand, but I pull away. Taking a deep breath, I blurt it out. “I told them seconds after I hugged them goodbye before I pulled out of the driveway. It was the day after our high school graduation that I left Savannah. I told them I was never coming back to the city that had caused me so much pain. And until the reunion a few weeks ago, it was a vow I kept. I’d never once been back.”
