“Yeah,” I admitted as I traced the edge of the box. I hated that he noticed the visceral reaction I’d had when we pulled into the driveway. “She had always kept it the same. Same colors. Similar furniture. The same layout . . .” I looked over my shoulder and studied the back of the house. “It always felt like coming home even though I was the only one here. The memories still lived inside.” I stared down at the box so he wouldn’t see the glaze over my eyes. “The memories are fading now.”
“Tell me about your parents and Amber,” he said as he scooted back and swung his leg around so that I was sitting between his knees.
“What about them?” I hedged.
Ryan’s arms were strong and safe as he wrapped them around me. “It’s rare that someone isn’t themselves when they’re around their family. That’s the one place you should always be able to let your guard down.” He rested his chin on my shoulder, warm breath dancing against my neck. “What’s it really like with them?”
I thought for a while, trying to configure the gentlest, kindest way to talk about them just like I always did. But it was Ryan. That was the one benefit to whatever this arrangement was: I could be brutally honest with him and it didn’t matter. He didn’t know my family and he’d likely never see them again.
“My dad’s always been distant and checked out. I used to think that it was because of the divorce. Mom got full custody and he got every other weekend. When you only spend 1,200 hours with someone every year, there isn’t a lot of bonding time, you know? He was a little closer with Amber, but I guess it’s just because she’s older than me and they had more years together under the same roof.”
“Does he still live around here?”
I nodded. “He lives outside of Manhattan and works in Topeka. His house is about a half hour away. I tried to call him when we got into town. He didn’t pick up, so I texted him. Never got an answer.”
“That’s shitty.”
Ryan’s comment made me crack a smile. “We talk a few times a year. I’ll call him on my birthday and his. We’ll see each other for Christmas if I’m in town.”
“But he never comes to you?”
“I’m never in the same place. It’s more practical for me to come here,” I snapped defensively.
Ryan tightened his hold on me. “What about your sister?”
“She’s . . . dealing with a lot, I guess.”
“Like what?” he pressed like he knew I didn’t have an answer and I was avoiding the question.
“Like . . . She hasn’t figured out what she’s passionate about.”
“And she resents you because you have an incredible career that you are passionate about?”
I tipped my head back on his shoulder. “Is it that obvious?”
Ryan pressed his lips to my temple and murmured, “Yeah. It is. And I’m going to take a not-so-wild guess and say that your mom coddles her because of it.”
“Do you have any courses on how to motivate someone to get out of their own way?”
I felt his smile against my skin, and I didn’t hate it.
“Actually, I do.”
“Do you sell gift cards? Because I know what her birthday present is going to be.”
His chuckle was warm, easing the ice that had cloaked my heart.
“I really try with them. My parents and Amber. It’s just . . . exhausting."
“Because they don’t reciprocate all the effort you put in,” he noted.
I looked down and stared at the spot where his feet bracketed mine. “It’s probably because I didn’t cut off my relationship with Shep. And when he met Lisa, we hit it off. I know it was especially hard for my dad, but . . .”
“But you were a kid. Shep was a big part of your life. And it wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t cut him out the way your mom did. He was just as much a parent as your mom and dad were. Maybe more, by my guess.”
“This was our spot,” I admitted. “I had to share a room with Amber, so whenever I was having a bad day, I would run out here and sit under the willow tree. Shep would come find me and talk about whatever was bothering me. Or sometimes we wouldn’t talk at all.”
“He sounds like the kind of man who gives good advice.”
