For Our Son: A BWWM Parenting Romance For Adults (3 page)

Ryan backed away from her car and headed towards his own. He glanced
over his shoulder to take one last look at her and the sight he saw touched his
heart. Grace was slumped over her steering wheel and he could see her body
shake with each sob. He watched her from afar as if she were a stranger. But
she wasn’t a stranger, and neither was he.

She was Grace and he was Ryan. They had been friends once…more than
friends. They had a history together.

Allowing his memories to steer the way, Ryan walked back over to Grace. He
didn’t bother to knock on her window. He simply pulled the latch on her door
and opened it. Grace looked startled for a moment, but it faded as soon as she
saw that it was Ryan. Then her features settled as if she had been expecting
him all along.

"I’m sorry." She sniffed. "I don’t know what …" Grace
didn’t finish her thought. She didn’t know what words could explain her
feelings anyway.

Ryan knelt down beside Grace and placed his hand on her arm. Although
the gesture felt cold and distant, he hadn’t seen Grace in quite some time and
anything more seemed intrusive.

"I’m not going to pretend to have all the answers…or any answers
for that matter. But I do know you, and I think I know what you’re thinking,” Ryan
began.

Grace shook her head as if to say there was no possible way he knew her current
thoughts.

"It’s not our fault,” Ryan said with finality. "There’s nothing
we could have done to prevent this."

"How do you know that?" Grace’s voice shook.

"Because…what logical explanation can you give me that would prove
that we could have prevented this?"

"Maybe if we’d kept him…"

"Giving him up for adoption doesn't change his genetic make-up,
Grace."

"Well what if they live by a nuclear power plant? Or  electromagnetic
fields or something?"

"They don’t."

"How do you know? You don’t know!"

"And neither do you."

"Well I know that I didn’t want to give him up. We had to, because
of you. And now look what’s happened." Grace’s facial expression changed
from one of sorrow to one of anger.

Ryan removed his hand from Grace’s arm and stood up. He didn’t have the
energy to fight with her so he simply restated, "It’s not our fault,"
and walked back to his truck.

This time Ryan didn’t bother to look back. He started his ignition and
sped away. He tried not to let his anger get the best of him, but he was so
distracted by his encounter with Grace that he ran a stop sign. And just his
luck, there was a motorcycle cop across the street. Ryan didn’t bother to wait
until the cop turned on his lights. He simply pulled over.

By the time Ryan arrived at his girlfriend’s house, he was in a
horrendous mood. Sophia opened the door with a barrage of questions. Ryan held
up his hand to field her off.

"It didn’t go well?" she asked.

"Matthew has leukemia. They want bone marrow donors,” Ryan
explained.

"You’re not going to do it, are you?" Sophia asked.

"Are you serious?" Ryan asked incredulously.

"Ryan, these are the people, who after agreeing to an open
adoption, moved halfway across the country. They never returned your requests
for photos. Now that they want something you’re supposed to drop everything and
give it to them?"

"This isn’t about them, Sophia. It’s about my son." Ryan’s
tone was harsh and abrupt. Sophia stepped back and rethought her words.

"I’m sorry, babe. You must be pretty stressed out."

Ryan didn’t disagree. Instead he sat down on the sofa and ran his
fingers through his short hair.

"Was Grace there?" Sophia asked in guarded apprehension.

"I saw her, but we weren’t seen together. She’s such
a…fatalist." Ryan sighed.

"What’d she look like?" Sophia asked.

"I don’t know. Like Grace." Ryan seemed irritated by the
question.

"I mean, did she look the same or did you hardly recognize
her?"

"Sophia, it’s been eight years, not twenty."

"I know, but she could have gotten totally fat and stuff."

Ryan shook his head and rolled his eyes. Sophia’s jealousy was not one
of her finer qualities. In fact, it was one he could barely stand.

"She looked the same,” he said in a flat tone. "I only talked to
her for a second. Long enough for her to tell me everything was all my
fault."

"She actually said that? She blamed the leukemia on you?" Sophia
seemed to be angrier than Ryan was.

"She was just upset…"

"And you weren’t? I swear, if I ever see Grace on the street… I
can’t believe you’re not mad."

"I didn’t say I wasn’t…can we talk about something else? I’ve had
all I can handle of this for one day."

"You know what? You should film this. It would be an interesting
documentary,” Sophia suggested.

"Matthew’s parents would never allow it."

"Screw them. I’m not talking about their part anyway. I’m talking
about yours. I’ll film you talking about it today. We can film you in the
doctor’s office when you go to find out if you can be a donor…did you say you
were going to do it?"

"Of course I did!" Ryan was agitated. He softened his tone
when he noticed the hurt look on Sophia’s face. "I’m really tired. I think
I’d better go."

"No," Sophia protested. "I feel like I’ve hardly seen
you. Stay here tonight."

"Sophia, I really need to sleep. If I stay here, we won’t
sleep."

"We will…
eventually
." Sophia said with a coy grin.

Ryan smiled and
gave in. He could always sleep tomorrow.

Chapter six

Grace tried to assume all implications of normalcy as she pulled into
the parking lot of her favorite café downtown. Her friend, whom she was meeting
for lunch, was already inside. Grace recognized the red sports car as soon as
she saw it.

"Sorry I’m late," Grace apologized.

"I’m used to it.” Morgan grinned.

Morgan had become one of Grace’s best friends since she graduated college.
Though they had never really bonded while they were in school together, the two
now interned together at a law firm and had become very close as a result.

"Did you order?" Grace glanced at the menu even though she
knew exactly what she’d be having.

"Not yet. I actually just got here myself."

Grace noticed how Morgan was watching her. She decided to let it go and
went up to the counter to order lunch.

"So, are you almost done with studying for the bar?" Grace
asked as she placed a chicken sandwich in front of Morgan.

"At this point, I don’t think I’ll ever be finished. I should be
studying every waking moment of the day, but seriously, who can function like
that?" Morgan asked as she unwrapped her sandwich.

"Tell me about it." Grace offered little else as she began
eating.

The two sat in silence eating and people watching until Morgan finally
spoke up.

"So, my mom called me last night…" she began.

"Yeah?" Grace took a sip of her tea.

"Yeah. She talked to your mom…Matthew has leukemia?"

Grace’s first inclination was to deny any knowledge of what Morgan was
speaking of, but before she knew what was happening, her eyes began to well up
with tears.

"I can’t…" Grace stopped to suppress sorrow. "I can’t
talk about this. I know I should have called you, but you don’t
understand…"

"No, it’s okay. Just let me know if there’s anything I can do.
Don’t take this on all alone, Grace. Remember what happened last time…" Morgan
reminded Grace of her brief jaunt with alcoholism.

"I know, I know. And I won’t let it go there, trust me." Grace
looked around at the neighboring tables before leaning in closer to Morgan.
"I’m just really embarrassed."

"Embarrassed? Of what?" Morgan wasn’t sure she’d heard
correctly.

Grace shook her head as she struggled to find the words to convey
exactly what she was feeling. "I don’t feel right,” she finally said.

"Well of course you don’t. You’ve just received horrible news.
Anyone in your position would probably feel sick, or—”

"That’s not what I mean," Grace interrupted. "I mean that
I should feel sad or scared, and I do, a little bit. But mostly, I’m just
mad…and guilty."

"Why? It’s not your fault Matthew’s sick."

"I know. Ryan said the same thing…"

"You saw Ryan? How’d that go?"

Grace nodded. "It was okay, I guess. To tell you the truth, I don’t
even remember the encounter much. Except the part where I blamed him."

"You blamed him for Matthew being sick?" Morgan was so
astonished she almost laughed.

"I know, it’s horrible. I hated myself the whole time I was talking
to him, but I just couldn’t shut up."

"You can’t still be mad at him about the adoption. Not after all
these years."

"My head knows that. Now just tell it to my heart."

Morgan offered a sympathetic smile. She knew the turmoil that plagued Grace
all these years. It was a turmoil that she, herself, could never imagine. What
must it be like to give up a child? Morgan suspected that Grace’s biggest
problem with giving up her son was how much she loved his father – And Morgan definitely
wasn't convinced that Grace had ever really stopped loving Ryan, though she
would never say so.

"So did you apologize?" Morgan asked.

Grace looked down at her napkin and shook her head. "I called his mom
and got his number, but I haven’t called him yet. He’ll probably just hang up
on me."

"So? At least you would have made the first move. You owe him that
much."

"I know. And I
will. It just seems so…empty." Saying sorry after saying a slew of mean
things to someone just didn’t seem to measure up. And if Grace knew anything
about Ryan, it was that he’d have no problem telling her as much.

Chapter seven

Ryan awoke to Sophia’s confining grip around his waist. She liked to
sleep as close to him as possible. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he
didn’t like anyone touching him when he slept. He disengaged himself as quietly
as possible and got up to go to the bathroom.

Once back in bed, Ryan remained awake and stared at the ceiling. In two
days he’d be going in to find out if he would be able to donate bone marrow to
his son. It seemed like it should be such a life-altering event, but Ryan was
sure he would have felt more strongly if a new restaurant opened across the street.
Why did he feel this way? Why was he so detached?

Wanting to think about anything besides the pressing matter at hand, Ryan
rolled over on his side and watched Sophia as she slept. She’d asked him to
move in with her and he’d avoided answering the question. He could tell she was
aware of his avoidance but didn’t press him on the issue.