“I’ve checked every cupboard, cabinet, and closet. I assure you it’s not.”
His eyes snapped to the bed between us. He swallowed hard. “I’ll call Marcie. She’ll handle it.”
I worried the back of my ring again. “Who’s Marcie?”
“My assistant.”
He tapped his phone and paced away, leaving me staring down at the bed. I heard him speaking though I could only make out the tense tone, not the words. I bet his jaw was back to being a concrete block. His dentist probably had a nice summer home just from looking after those molars.
I’d never known Ryan to be anything but tense. I met him in ninth grade and I remembered immediately wondering why he was so damn serious. He had tons of friends and was involved ineverything and he had a sly sense of humor but there was also a dark energy tethered to him like rings to Saturn.
As it turned out, his father had been dying. Slowly but also quickly, in sudden, devastating bursts that upended his family. By that time, the first floor of their home had a hospital bed, oxygen tanks and compressors, and a constant stream of nurses and health aides. The ALS took him the summer before our last year of high school.
I still thought about whether the Ryan of today, the Ryan I’d always known, would be the same or different if his father was alive and well. Different, of course, in all the ways that sickness and loss and grief jackknifed their way through an otherwise ordinary life. But what if Ryan was a serious, solemn soul because it was his fundamental nature and not simply because it’d been demanded of him at such a young age?
I didn’t know if there was any point to carrying on that debate with myself. All I knew was there were times when I had to remind him that he didn’t have to hold the weight of the world on his back. That it was okay to be happy and to do things simply because he wanted to, and not because his mom needed the help or his sisters needed to pay for college or any other reason he had to ignore his inner compass.
“This is the only room,” he said from the doorway, his phone still pressed to his ear.
I glanced up from the pristine bed linens. “A-plus on the comprehension and recall.”
“No,” he said, running a hand down his face. “This is the only roomhere. It’s the only room anywhere. In the whole fucking town.”
“Well, isn’t this event a pretty big deal around here? It stands to reason there wouldn’t be much availability.”
He held up a finger as someone spoke to him. “You’re telling me every vacation rental is booked too, Marcie? Every last one?”He blew out a breath as she replied. “Are there any houses for sale? Some kind of quick, all cash deal?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said.
Marcie must’ve echoed that sentiment because Ryan held up a hand. “All right, all right, I won’t buy a house tonight. Forget it.” Then, in a low, lethal voice I didn’t think I’d ever heard from him before, he said, “Let them know I’m not pleased.”
It appeared hereallydidn’t want to share this bed with me.
Such an efficient way to chase off my sunbeams and heart stampedes.
He exhaled every molecule of oxygen from his body and folded his arms. I could actually hear his jaw popping from the other side of the room.
I stared at him, still fiddling with the band of my ring. “I think you’re overreacting.”
“But—” He slashed a hand toward the bed.
“What about it?” I asked. “You didn’t have a problem staying at my place a few weeks ago and this bed is twice the size. We could get a third person in here if you wanted an adventure. Is McKerry in town this weekend? Or Wilcox? I bet one of them would be down.”
The phone fell from his hand, clattered to the floor. The veins in his neck appeared to bulge and that seemed like something to be concerned about. Medically, perhaps.“You want to run that by me again?”
“I’m just saying we have plenty of room and you don’t need to be weird about it.”
“By suggesting we invite McKerry to—towhat, exactly?”
“It was a joke. I know you’re familiar with the concept.” I tossed up my hands and stomped to the living space to grab my luggage. Ryan was exactly where I’d left him when I returned to the room.
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he said. I wasn’t sure how he was able to speak through that clenched jaw but he was known for doing impossible things.
“If you’d listen to me, you’d hear me saying that I’m not uncomfortable.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You don’tfiton the couch.”
