“No, honey,” Ryan says, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her towards him, giving her a kiss on the shoulder; but she stands there, tense.
“How doyoulike being treated like a little kid?” Evan asks, shamelessly.
“What?”
Ryan sighs, and prepares himself for a painful conversation. It’s all been more difficult for him: he still hasn’t totally accepted Dad’s condition.
“We were deciding what to do for…Dad,” he says, almost gasping for air.
“Oh,” Chris steps away from him and starts to pace the kitchen nervously. “If you want, Evan and I can—”
“No, dear,” Mum stops her, placing her hand on her arm. “This concerns everyone, you two are part of the family.”
She’s right. Chris comes round as much as she can. Despite the café she owns, and Ryan and her son running around her ankles, she’s always there for Mum and Dad – and for us, too. And even though Evan’s a grouchy teenager, with hormones flying all over the place, he’s never left behind, and pops round a lot after school to see if my parents need anything.
Mum turns to me and Ryan. “We can’t have this conversation without Ian, and he’s got other things on his mind at the moment. Riley and the baby will be home tomorrow and I don’t want to upset him. Only God knows how much that boy has to be happy about.”
“Are you looking for excuses to delay this even more?” I ask as gently as I can.
Mum looks at me, exhausted. She can’t do it, and she knows this too, even if she doesn’t want to admit it – to us, or to herself.
“If you want, I could ask Martin,” Chris says, taking the situation into her own hands.
Ryan rolls his eyes just at the mention of Martin’s name.
“We all know that Dad has absolutely no intention of going to a physiotherapist. Not in hospital or in a rehab centre.” She’s right: Dad’s been leaving the house less and less. “Maybe Martin will know someone at the hospital who we can trust.”
“That’s a good idea, love. Thank you,” Mum says to her.
Chris smiles warmly. “I’m sure that physio will help him move more easily and get rid of the pain – but it’ll also help his mood. I’ll call Martin later. Actually, no – I’ll pop round and see him—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Ryan interrupts her. “I’m sure a phone call is more than enough.”
“Ryan…” Chris warns him.
He scoffs.
“Hey, everyone’s here!” Dad moves slowly into the kitchen on his crutches, shutting us all up immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asks, looking around at us. “Ah, I get it. This is one of those conversations I’m not allowed to be part of.”
“Dad, no, that’s not true,” Ryan tries to interject.
“These moments have been happening more and more recently.” He sinks into a chair, helped by Evan who takes his crutches and leans them against the wall. He folds his hands on the table. “I imagine everything’s not going as smoothly as you’d like me to think.”
Chris sits down next to him right away and takes his hand. Ryan sighs, full of love.
“Things are going less smoothly, yes,” she tells him calmly.
He nods.
“It’s just that we’re worried about your knee, and we can’t keep delaying things.”
Dad places his other hand on top of Chris’.
Ryan watches them, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I watch him, my dickhead little brother who, against all odds, has managed to find this wonderful woman.
“So, what are you all thinking?” Dad asks, his voice trembling.
Ryan wipes his eyes, and Evan places a supportive hand on his shoulder. Mum bites her lip nervously.
