20. Ryan

20

Ryan

T he end of the first semester is quickly approaching, and football has been better than ever. I’m in my prime. My body is healthy, and my mind is laser-focused. We are looking good this year and clinched a playoff spot. I get a week off to go home before I need to report back to campus for playoff prep practices. The past few weeks have been blissfully normal, something I don’t come across too often. My favorite nights are spent by Violet’s side watching her study. She becomes dialed in on her work, and it’s the most attractive thing I’ve ever seen.

I lean against a pole, scrolling my phone and waiting for my girlfriend to leave her last class of the day. This has become my routine. I go where she goes, and I’m not mad at it. I spot her megawatt smile as she walks out of the building.

When she sees me, she quickens her pace and jumps into my arms like the cutest koala bear. If I could bottle up the feeling of having this girl in my arms, I would.

“How were your classes today, babe?”

“They were ok. Not ready for this break. My mind likes it when I stay busy, less time for me to get lost in my thoughts. The holidays aren’t the same without my grandpa here.”

“Come home with me,” I urge.

“What? I can’t do that, Ryan. Your mom, umm, would she want me there? I don’t want to intrude on your time with her.”

“Vi, she’ll love you. She’ll like you more than me. She’s been begging me to find someone for years. Let’s go pack. We’ll head there tonight.” Her face lights up, and before she can overthink this and come up with all the reasons this isn’t the right thing to do, I grab her hand and lead her towards my parked car. Movement is good for her. Staying in one place to ruminate is not.

“Are you sure?” She shies away and retreats into that mind of hers.

“I want you there. If you don’t come, I won’t enjoy myself anyway because I’ll be obsessing over the next time I’ll get to hold you.” She darts her eyes down and gnaws on her short fingernails. Grabbing her hands in mine, softly rubbing them before I tilt her chin up to meet my gaze.

“Come with me.” My eyes bore into hers. I have never wanted to bring someone home before. Now that I have Vi, I want to do everything with her, especially meeting my mom.

“If you’re…”

“I’m sure.”

“Ok.”

After a few hours of packing the necessities at Violet’s apartment, we’re off to my childhood home. My mom doesn’t know Violet is coming. I want to surprise her with the best present she has ever received. Mom knows how obsessed I am with Violet, but she won’t believe that I’m bringing her home for Thanksgiving. I’ve never brought a girl home to meet her.

It’s colder than normal for a Florida November, so I crank the heat in my car to make sure my girl stays warm. She has a white knit hat on, and her nose is red from the nipping cold.

“What is she like?” Violet asks.

“She’s a little feisty. She loves to mess with me, and she’s not afraid to tell it like it is, but she also has the biggest heart and would do anything for anybody.”

“Are you a momma’s boy?” she says as she nudges my arm playfully.

“Absolutely not,” I reply because who wants to be labeled as a momma’s boy?

“You are.” She giggles. The sound of her laugh sends me into a tailspin. I love hearing her let go of herself for a while and just live.

“I’ll be whatever you need me to be, Vi.”

“Ryan, there’s something I need to tell you.” Her mood shifts, and her tone is laced with worry.

“A good thing or a bad thing?” I glance her way trying to remain calm, but my grip tightens on the steering wheel.

“Kind of a bad thing, but I don’t know. Not really, just a different thing.”

“Vi, you can tell me anything.” I grab her hand, trying my best to keep my eyes on the road. She needs the extra reassurance, and I’ll give it to her every single time.

“Before I tell you, just know it’s ok if you feel scared or weirded out by it. I won’t be offended.”

“I don’t get scared.” The only thing that scares me is losing you.

“Well, it hasn’t been a big deal because usually when you spend the night, we are either busy doing other things or we’re so exhausted that it isn’t as noticeable, but I can tell that I’m not tired tonight, so there is potential for it to come up.”

She pauses, and I give her time to think about her words. Whatever it is she needs to tell me right now is scaring her. I can feel her hand shaking under mine, and I grab it tighter. I keep my eyes focused on the road ahead. She needs to know that I’m here, but I want to give her the opportunity to finish talking before I cut in.

“When I’m nervous, it’s worse, and that’s why I want to warn you ahead of time. I have, umm, patterns that I follow before I go to sleep.” I can feel her voice sinking lower and her confidence slipping away. I can’t have that.

“Keep going, Vi, I’ve got you.”

“It really depends on the night, but sometimes I’ll check to make sure I turned off the sink more than once. Checking that the door is locked is a big one. Sometimes it’s my thoughts. It’s hard to explain, but I think of every worst-case scenario at night, and it seems like the biggest problem ever at the time. I can’t turn it off, and it won’t stop until I’m so mentally exhausted that I finally crash. It’s a lot, and I wouldn’t blame you if it scared you off.”

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

I don’t know much about it, but I know that this is what she is describing. She thinks this information will make me leave? Who has made her feel like she should be ashamed of this part of herself?

I pull into the next gas station I see before I respond to her. I need to make sure she hears me clearly. My blood is boiling, but not for the reasons she’s thinking. Who has she surrounded herself with that would make her feel this way? I have a visceral need to protect the tiny storm next to me with everything I have.

“Ryan, where are we going?” She moves to look at me with a ball of nervous energy.

“Babe, give me a minute.”

As soon as we pull into an empty pump, I unbuckle my seat belt and adjust the seat back as far as it can go. After creating more space, I gesture for her to climb onto my lap. I need her close. She does without hesitation and opens her mouth to talk. Before any words leave her, I gently place my finger over her lips.

“The reason I pulled off is because I needed to be close to you as soon as possible, and I need to make sure you hear what I say next.” She looks at me with those diamond-cut blue eyes that, I swear, are piercing through my soul at every moment.

“What you told me doesn’t scare me. It makes me fall in love with you more than I already am.”

“L..L.. Love me? You just said you love me. Take it back right now. You haven’t experienced all of me, and you’re not allowed to say that until you have seen everything.” She gapes at me like a deer caught in the headlights.

I shake my head. “Not taking it back.” I grab her hands and hold them tight against my chest. “Never will.” I pepper kisses along her neck. “ Do you think that I’m the type to run at the first sight of trouble? I run towards the fire, Vi. Always have. I want to burn in the flames together, you and me. I want us to smolder when it’s over and fade into the smoke with you.”

She quickly cuts in, “It isn’t easy. I can barely handle it, and no one has ever seen it up close and personal like you will this week. I can keep it together for a night or two, but it eventually shows. Hartley hasn’t even seen it all. I keep the worst nights to myself.”

“I want you. I want every single part of you. The parts that you think are broken are the parts that have patched me back together. Just let me know how I can help you.”

She grabs my neck and squeezes so tight that I think I may lose air. Her fingernails carve little crescents into my neck, and it’s the best type of hurt. If I die like this, I’ll die happy. I pull her away slightly and kiss her soft vanilla lips that grant me access. This is the most vulnerable she has ever been. I love every side of her. Her hips roll into me, and I let out a groan. I tip my head back to collect myself.

We’re in a gas station parking lot, Ryan. Get your head together.

She’s so sexy, and I lose control in her presence. When she’s on my lap, I feel the bond we share. Her body molds perfectly together with mine. We kiss for what feels like hours until we finally break apart.

“Stay right here. I need to run in for something.”

I return to the car with a jumbo pack of original M&Ms and shake the bag between us.

“ Yes .” She pumps her fists in the air. "Take some now before I eat the entire bag.” I smile as she giggles and rips the bag from my grip. The candy is fully in her space, and it doesn’t look like she has any intention of sharing. The sound of her laugh is ingrained in my brain as my favorite sound to ever exist. She strategically pulls out each blue M&M first, gathers them in her palm, and tosses them back. How did I miss the signs of my girl struggling with OCD? I guess I haven’t spent the night much, and when I did, we were so consumed with exhaustion that I didn’t bother to notice. She crunches, chews, and swallows as I pull onto the main highway before she touches the base of my neck and whispers, “Ryan, I love you, too.” She stares off out the window, and I ride the rest of the way with the biggest smile on my face.

Violet

Ryan tells me we are close, but the panic I felt in my chest is completely gone. The drive to his mom’s house is about half an hour, but I wish it was longer. I feel relieved after telling Ryan about my struggles with OCD. I’ve had these rituals for as long as I can remember, but the only person who really knows about it is Hartley. He’s the only one who knows has access to my secrets and insecurities, but now Ryan does, too. What I thought would make me want to vomit and cause him to run in the opposite direction actually feels amazing to get off my chest.

It feels good to let someone in and not carry all of the burdens of my life on my own. I gave him a part of myself that no one else has. He’s about to experience my deepest flaw and my most irrational mindset up close and personal. In my heart, I know it will be ok. He won’t run from me. Ryan has opened up to me about his mom, but I know he still guards secrets tight to his chest.

Ryan turns left into the driveway of his childhood home. The house is made of red, worn-down bricks and a white door. It’s more inviting than any place I’ve ever lived. There’s a small wrap-around porch with a “Welcome Snowmies” sign hanging from the door. I hope she likes me. I never had a place that I considered home. Grandpa’s house was where I lived, but everything always felt temporary. I wasn’t stupid. I knew his age and his health issues.

“We’ll get the bags out later. I want to make sure you meet Mom before she heads to bed. Some nights are more exhausting for her than others.” He explains. “Oh, and there’s no such thing as Thanksgiving then Christmas to her. She’s one of those holly-jolly people that skip right over turkey day.”

I nod, appreciating him sharing this small detail with me. Before I really got to know the real Ryan, he masked everything with crude remarks and short answers, but he’s different now. He’s mine. Before we can knock on the worn door, it flies open, and a petite woman screams for Ryan to give her a hug. My heart melts into a puddle as Ryan embraces his mom, her fragility not well concealed. She has short brown hair, not long enough to pull back. She’s wearing black stretch pants and a purple shirt.

“Mom, I want you to meet…” Before he can finish, his mom cuts in and says, “This must be the girl I’ve been waiting my entire life for! Ahhh! Ryan, why didn’t you tell me you were bringing someone?! I would have cooked or cleaned or something!” She fusses at Ryan, but her tone shows it’s all in love.

“I didn’t want to spoil your Christmas gift. Aren’t you glad I didn’t shop for clothes again?”

“Blessings come in all forms, love. Violet, I’ve been dying to meet you. My son is a man of few words, and I needed all the details about his dream girl!” She chuckles as she stares at me with adoration and love. She doesn’t know me at all, yet she looks at me like I’m her second favorite person.

“Jesus, Mom, jumping right in, aren’t you?” Ryan replies with a hint of embarrassment.

I have never experienced anything like this before. My parents dashed the minute I was born, and all I have ever known was my grandpa. He did a phenomenal job raising me, but nothing really compares to maternal love. She grabs me and wraps me up in her tiny, cold arms. I return the gesture and squeeze her tight enough to let her know I am grateful to be here.

“Thank you so much for having me. I hope it’s ok that I’m here. Ryan didn’t want me to spend the holiday alone, but I swear I would never do anything to come in between the time he has with you.”

“Don’t be silly. You being here has made my dreams come true. You have no idea,” she says as her hands grab my shoulders. Her smile beams wide.

“Grab your bags and come in! We have lots of catching up to do, and I refuse to miss any details.”

“I’ll grab the bags, babe. You can head in.” Ryan paints a soft kiss on my forehead and walks to the car.

I follow his mom into a house that feels like the inside of a Hallmark Christmas movie, dressed in classic decorations, most of them looking vintage. The tree is decked with tinsel and bubble lights. The mantle above the fireplace has five Santas dressed in different outfits, and a candle burning smells like peppermint hot cocoa. Ryan was right about her love for the holidays. I feel more connected to his mom because I’m also one of those Christmas fanatics.

Grandpa was never a decorator. He preferred things plain and simple. We had a Christmas tree, but that was it. I didn’t mind because I didn’t know any different. This is going to be the best Thanks-Christmas ever.

The three of us gather in the main room. Ryan’s mom sits in the single reclined chair, and Ryan has his arm draped around me, cuddling next to him on the bigger couch. He started the fire, and his mom made us hot chocolate. We are giving Ryan’s mom the play-by-play of our first few encounters together. Ryan insisted that we leave out most of the obnoxious details, painting him as a jerk, but his mom caught on pretty quickly that we were purposefully leaving things out of the stories. She would not let it go, so Ryan started with all the details from the beginning.

“Ok, ok, ok, run that one by me again, mister, because I surely did not hear that correctly!” Ryan’s mom scolds him, and I can not stop laughing. He’s telling her the part where he kissed me at the back-to-school bash and dashed out before saying a word to me. I adore how easy his relationship with his mom seems. This is a more tender side of Ryan that I’ve been coming to love. He exudes calm in this house.

“Ryan Shane! I can’t believe how inconsiderate you were! Look at her! She’s perfect, and you just ran out because you were scared?! What is this, some type of rom-com?!”

I love Ryan and his mom’s dynamic. They are so comfortable around each other, and he can’t help but give in to all of her silly requests.

“It wasn’t like that, but I've got her now. I didn’t screw up too much.”

“And you should be counting your lucky stars!”

“Ok, let’s move on to a topic that doesn’t require you grilling me for my decisions.”

“We can table this, but make no mistake, we will revisit it.” She gently leans forward off her chair, steps toward her son, and pushes him back. Ryan grabs his muscular shoulder and pretends like it hurt him.

I can not stop laughing. This is the most fun I have had in a long time. This is what having a real family is like.

When she leans back into her chair, I see her face jerk, and it looks like she’s having trouble getting her next words out.

“Mom,” Ryan jolts off the couch to her side, “Take five deep breaths before you talk again.” Worry is etched in his brow. He’s trying to be calm for her, but the way he jolted off the couch to her side tells me he’s worried. He moves to squat next to his mom beside her chair. He watches intently at her breathing. After a few minutes, she seems ok.

“I’m sorry, Violet. I hope Ryan filled you in on my issues before you came here.” She looks embarrassed, and my heart cracks open a million times. The woman who was laughing and joking with us is long gone, replaced by the somber reality of her illness.

“He did, and I think you’re the strongest person I have ever met. Fighting this and coming out like a warrior.” I get up and walk to her small frame covered by blankets. I touch her cold hand and rub the top to assure her that she has no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed in front of me.

“Mom, you look tired, and I don’t want you losing sleep. I’ll walk you to the bedroom, and I promise we’ll have plenty of time to rehash all the ways I’ve screwed up so far tomorrow.” He laughs and helps his mom off the chair.

She’s so tiny compared to her son. He towers over her. Ryan locks his arm with hers to steady her. It takes a minute for her to gain her balance and walk to the bedroom. I don’t follow them. When he returns, he approaches me and pulls me onto his lap. He looks like a broken mixture of happy and sad, complete and incomplete, put together and falling apart. I’m a fixer. I try not to take space in other people’s lives, but as I rattle ideas in my brain, I conclude that I can’t fix this. This isn’t fixable. All I can do is hold him and let him know that I’m never letting him go. Giving him false assurances and security about his mom’s condition doesn’t seem helpful. Instead, I want to be his rock.

Breaking the silence, I say, “She’s amazing. I’ve never had a mom or anyone close to someone like her in my life. You are so lucky to have her.” I gently rub the side of his face.

“I know,” he answers softly.

He shifts my face slightly away from him. I’m still curled on his lap, but there is distance between us. I can sense him closing himself off. I don’t want to lose this moment with him. His chin gently rests on my shoulder. We sit in silence, and I feel my shirt become damp. Wet tears coat my T-shirt, marking me with his pain. This is the first time I’ve seen him cry. I know he didn’t want me to see it. I turn back to wipe his tears away with the pad of my thumb. When I face him, I’m hit with a gut punch. My strong force of a man looks broken. His eyes are in a distant place. His jaw is clenched with a stern look. Silent tears continue to roll down his rough exterior.

“She’s not going to get better, Vi. It’s getting worse, and when she’s gone, I’ll lose the final piece holding my life together.”

I place my legs on both sides of his muscular thighs and hang both hands on his face.

“You will. I can’t change that or tell you that it’s going to be ok. It’s going to hurt. It’s going to feel like the world is falling apart, and there’s no way to ever put it back together again. The only difference is that now you have an anchor, someone to pull you up from drowning. I’ll throw you a life vest and drag you back up to the shore. You won’t face this alone, Ryan.”

“You’re my anchor,” he whispers softly into my ear.

“I always will be.” I kiss his forehead, and he slowly picks me up and heads to the bedroom. I usually fight off gestures like these. Hyper independence has become the norm of my life, but feeling Ryan’s stronghold on my body assures me that I can rely on someone other than myself for the first time in a very long time.