Page 7 of Heart Thief

I wonder if sweats and a lazy night on the couch binge-watching Netflix are ever part of her agenda. I doubt it. Her bleach-blond hair is always perfectly coifed, her teeth so white, they hurt my eyes, and her forehead is clearly filled with so much Botox, her eyebrows can barely move. She’s a woman desperately fighting the aging process.

“Ryker, you look so handsome.” She air kisses each of his cheeks.

“And Myla, you’re simply stunning this evening.” I get one air kissed cheek.

“It’s Mila.” And she knows it.

She waves the air as though the pronunciation of my name doesn’t really matter.

“What have you two lovebirds been up to this evening?”

Her smile says,I love you, her eyes say,You’re not good enough for my son.

“Dinner at Acquerello,” Ryker says.

“Such a lovely place. You have excellent taste, Ryker.”

I doubt Debra believes I have a single smart thought in my head or enough class to choose such a place.

Debra turns and starts walking up the stairs with the assumption that we’ll automatically follow like faithful subjects.

We do.

“Your father’s not in bed yet. Come say hello.”

It’s tough to see James Martel, a once vibrant man, stuck in a wheelchair with half of his body paralyzed, and unable to speak intelligibly. His head leans to one side, dribble almost always resting on his chin. A result of a massive stroke.

His night nurse turns the TV off at our arrival. “I was just about to get him ready for bed, Mrs. Martel. I’ll give you some privacy.” She politely takes her leave.

Debra stands behind her husband, massaging his shoulders. “Sweetheart, it’s Ryker. He’s running Martel Investments and things are going as smooth as a lake on a clear day. If you could see him in action, you’d be so proud. As vice president, he’s the best right-hand man you have.”

With James incapacitated, the board of investors act as the president of the company, much to Ryker’s dismay.

Ryker sits in the chair next to his father, holding one hand. “Hey, Dad. Great to see you. You’re looking good. Don’t worry about anything. I have everything under control. Just get better, okay?”

James grunts and tries to speak, but we can’t understand him. It’s obvious the man they once knew is no longer present. He’s clearly frustrated with his limits. I feel for the poor man. It’s been a year and he hasn’t improved much, in spite of intense physical therapy.

I don’t think he will ever recuperate, but Ryker and Debra always speak as though a full recovery is just around the corner. I wouldn’t dare to be the one to discourage them and dash their hope.

“Come say hello, Mila,” Debra says, a subtle command.

I walk forward and sit in the chair opposite Ryker. I place my hand on James’ arm. “Hello, Mr. Martel. It’s Mila. It’s wonderful to see you. I hope you’ve had a good day.”

He looks directly at me, his eyes droopy and sad. I can’t help but think it’s a tender mercy that he’s not all there anymore. I can’t imagine how horrible it would be to be stuck in a body that’s refusing to work. He tries to say my name, but it’s garbled.

“Isn’t she lovely, James? Mila and Ryker make such a beautiful couple.”

I’m surprised to hear her say that, since I always feel like she thinks I’m not good enough for her son.

“Our son was always the kid who wanted to bring home the lost and broken puppy. So sweet.”

There’s the Freddy I’ve come to expect. I should’ve known a dig was coming next. She smiles, and all I see are Freddy Fazbear teeth. I hide a small shiver.

Ryker spends the next thirty minutes talking to his father, telling him about daily business dealings, as he often does. James calms down and doesn’t seem as agitated as he did earlier. I doubt his father’s peace comes from hearing about work, but rather the soothing sound of his son’s voice.

The nurse returns to prepare James for bed, and we leave her to it.

Once the door is closed, Debra immediately launches into business mode. “A few items of paperwork arrived in an email today. I thought you might want to see them right away.”

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