Love Found in California (The Washington Triplets) (8 page)

“Sorry,” I mumble, as I shift under the stream of water. Ryan helps push my head more into the spray, running his finger through my dark mass of thick hair.

“I just want something a little safer for you and newer. Plus there is risk of more problems arising after an accident.”

I step to the side to grab my shampoo and begin to lather my hair up as Ryan uses a bar of soap to clean me. His hands slide over my body tenderly, taking care to clean my back.

“I know, but …” I stop, feeling my throat choke up and the bridge of my nose stings. I turn myself away from him, not wanting him to see me upset.

From behind he washes the soap out of my hair, making sure all the suds leave. I watch the soap swirl around our ocean-colored tile and a tear slips from one of my eyes. When Ryan turns me around, he searches my face and wipes the lone tear.

“Shit, what’s wrong, love?”

“I’m being stupid. It’s silly.” My eyes continue to stare at the tiles, afraid to look up and shed more tears.

“No you’re not. Tell me. What is it?” I peek at him and see the confusion set on his face.

“I don’t want to get rid of that car yet. It means a lot to me. I know it seems silly, but it got me here to you and away from my past.” I speak the words softly, not caring that they sound out of sorts and broken.

Ryan’s hands cup my cheeks and I focus in on his eyes. “Okay, then we’ll keep it until you’re ready. But we are still going to get you a new car.”

“Thank you,” I whisper before I reach upward to kiss his lips. He kisses me back slow and careful, until I push him back against the smooth marble wall. My hands roam him freely, stroking his length and our kiss becomes more intense. Soon I’m turned around, my hands pushed against the smooth, cool marble with Ryan behind me.

***

A little before one Carrie bursts into my office, refusing to take no for an answer. She literally pulls at my wrist forcing my hand to leave my keyboard. As she drags me from my chair giddy with laughter, I can’t help but laugh too.

“You have to eat and I have so much to tell you now,” she begs me.

“Okay, okay. Just let me send one thing off to Ry.” She releases her hold on my wrist and I scoot back to my chair. Quickly, I start to type an email and add in that I’m going to lunch with Carrie. “Let’s make it fast though, how about Sharky’s?”

“Fine, hurry up now,” she says as she is already through my doorway.

After we order some fish tacos and lemonades, we sit at a small table just outside the restaurant. At the same time we both dig in for a bite and sip our lemonades. I search my memory trying to remember what the name is of the guy or guys she’s dating and then ask, “So, how’s Craig?”

She giggles through her chewing, practically spitting out her taco and then says, “It’s Kirk, but there’s Justin too.”

I roll my eyes at her. “You’re horrible. Do you like either of them?” She really is bad, a temptress, but at the same time I like to hear how she doesn’t settle for just anyone. Before she even answers I try to think of what I might have been like if my life had not been determined for me …
Would I have dated lots of guys? Would I have had a one night stand? Would I have married Ryan so quickly?

“Actually, I think I’m leaning toward Kirk now. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Justin and I have crazy, kinky sex, but I think there is something missing.” My eyes bulge as I take in the surrounding people sitting too close to us. She’s so loud there’s no way they didn’t hear.

“Seriously, Carrie. You are too loud,” I tell her while sliding down in my chair a bit more. Maybe if I had traveled down a similar path as her I wouldn’t get embarrassed as easily or care who heard us, but that wasn’t me. I didn’t have that history. Carrie had lots of girlfriends who all lived similarly, dating a new guy every week and then telling each other all the details. As she pulls her pretty blonde hair back into a ponytail, I can’t help but be thankful that she considers me a close friend. Even though there are times when she’s too much, I realize that’s what she is to me
―
a friend and a sister.

“Oh please, like they don’t do the same thing. So now, Kirk, he’s not as kinky, but one lick on me and …” She’s a little quieter, but still the girl has no shame. She rattles on and on about Kirk and the things he does to her. Then I hear her talk about some more affectionate things he’s done for her. I listen like always with little to add and at this point it has nothing to do with my lack of experience, thanks to Ryan. Regardless, I would never share that part of Ryan and me with anyone.

“Well, I think you should just date Kirk. Give it a shot. He seems to like you and I can tell you are definitely smitten with him.” She agrees with me and I’m shocked that she may give this a real chance. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of her being monogamous.

We finish up and on the drive back Carrie asks, “You guys will be at my parents on Saturday, right?”

“Oh, um, Ryan hasn’t said anything. I’m sure we will though.”

“Good, they are eager to see you. I told them about the accident and they felt horrible,” she explains. I’m sure Ryan hasn’t brought it up because his parents have not accepted our marriage. It’s always tense and each visit they get more and more comfortable with making snide comments.

“Really? I doubt that.”

“Stop it. They care about you. Just give them some time. It’s all new to them. They had never even heard Ryan talk of marriage and then all of a sudden boom, he’s married.” She undoes her hair as she turns into the parking lot for work and then faces me. “It’s not like you guys gave anyone notice. They probably had envisioned being involved and a fancy wedding is all.” She shrugs her shoulders and I know she’s right.

“I’ll make sure we’re there on Saturday. What can I bring?” Conceding to this is probably best. Ryan’s parents have never been kind, there is no denying that, but I know they love their son. The little comments about the age difference, that we just don’t know each other well enough and that we hid this from everyone really gets under his skin. It hurts me too, but the last thing I want is to add more fuel to the fire. Knowing that I am one of the biggest reasons for strain in my own family weighs heavily on my heart. I can’t let this happen to Ryan’s family, too.

They tend to be more formal and that’s just not me, or Ryan for that matter. Yet I know that family is important to him. It used to be important to me and my family too. Sitting here, I linger on the thought of wishing for my own family to be closer again.

“Wine. A couple bottles,” Carrie says while laughing.

I get settle back in my office and work the remainder of the day without a break. Focusing on the images in front of me, I play around with some different fonts and then jump when I hear a knock on my slightly opened door. Ryan comes in with his laptop bag over his shoulder, sunglasses up on top of his head and a small smile.

“What time is it?” I ask looking at him in surprise.

“It’s quarter after five, but your appointment is at six so I wanted to make sure we didn’t get stuck in traffic.”

“Oh, I could cancel it. I mean because I have more work and I don’t want this project to get behind and
¾
”

Ryan interrupts before I continue to ramble on. “No, the work is fine, this is more important. Plus I know deep down you want to go. Come on, love.” He hold his hand out to me, but I look down at my key board desperate to find more excuses as to why this should be postponed. I come up empty though. “Plus I have some cars I want to talk to you about.”

Gnawing at the inside of my cheek I get up slowly, drawing out every movement before walking out of my office, in hopes of some diversion. Ryan holds my hand and walks us to his car. In a way it’s almost as if he’s dragging me out, but he’s right; deep down I want to go. It’s time to move beyond some of this. I know from past experience that therapy does help.

Once in the car Ryan talks to me about a few different SUV’s that he thinks I’d like. He goes into details about the specifications and when I ask about price he ignores my question. Then he tells me that he also talked to the auto repair shop and told them to go ahead and fix up my Civic. This makes me happy and eases my nerves. Leaning across the middle console in Ryan’s car, I place a peck on his cheek and slip my hand back into his.

“Oh, Carrie said your parents are having us for dinner on Saturday. I told her we’d be there,” I tell him.

“I was thinking we’d skip out on it,” he says casually.

“No we need to go. Eventually they’ll get over this
elopement
, as they call it.” I snicker, knowing he’ll find the humor in it.

Shaking his head with a tight smile he asks, “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

I contemplate this before answering him. “Yes, of course. We have to try to move past this. It’s your family.”

We both smile and he squeezes my hand reassuringly. When we pull up to the office building, my smile quickly fades into a tight-lipped purse. As Ryan pulls into a parking spot close to the ramp to the doors of the building, I turn my head to stare out the passenger side window and contemplate what will come of this.

My sisters had been at college for at least a couple of months and I still barely left my bedroom. Today was the day though. I had promised I would go to therapy. Staring at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of my door, I smoothed my hands over my fully-clothed body. My jeans fit me just right, but now they seemed too tight and revealing. I decided to grab one of my oversized hoodies to cover me up more. I’ve never worn a lot of make-up, unlike Mya, and today I kept my skin bare except for moisturizer.

Slowly, I opened my bedroom door and walked downstairs. Just as I’m about to head into the kitchen, I stopped as I heard my parents talking. There was strain in my mom’s voice; I could hear it in her accent. I couldn’t tell if she was mad or just upset.

“Brian, you’re too absent in their lives,” I heard her tell my dad.

I stepped closer to the entrance of the kitchen, yet kept myself hidden. “I’m working, you know this. That’s why you’ve always stayed home.” I couldn’t be sure, but I think I heard irritation in my dad’s tone.

“This is different. Mikaela needs her parents right now. Something is wrong.” She paused and I could hear her running the water in the sink. She always used my full name when talking to Dad, but I preferred her to call me Mik. The water stopped and she continued. “She’s my baby and I’m so worried about her. This is too extreme for her.”

The chair my dad must have been sitting in screeched across the tile and his heavy footsteps walked. “She’s my baby too,” he snapped. “Quit being so dramatic, Cecilia. This is Mikaela … she’s different. She’s always been more disconnected.”

Pulling me out of my memory, my car door opens with Ryan holding his hand out to me. I swallow down the hurt I feel remembering how distant and cold Dad had sounded. It was only the beginning of several conversations I overheard between them.

My mom was right though, I did feel better after going to therapy and talking to someone. It didn’t happen during that first visit, but over time. I reach out my hand and place it gently into Ryan’s, instead of pulling me up he bends down and kisses the top of my hand. The reds and blues that had begun to infiltrate my space gradually fall to the side. A bit of orange and yellow slip inside and warmth covers me as I gaze at the sincerity in Ryan’s face. His smile speaks volumes about the person he is and how he feels about me. It catches me every time, letting me know that he’s here, at my side for better or worse.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Yes … I am,” I say as confidently as I can.

We walk into the building hand in hand, and once we get into the office Ryan let’s my hand go and stands to the side. I walk up to the window to check myself in.

“Hi, Mrs. Chambers. How are you?” The same receptionist that I’ve seen the other times greets me.

“Good, thanks.”

“Go ahead and take a seat. Dr. Harrington will be with you in just a few.” I turn and around sit next to Ryan. Unable to stop my knee from bouncing up and down I realize that this therapy session is different. It’s different because I have Ryan here and my goals are not like the other times. This time I need to find a way to tell Ryan everything that has happened. I need to tell him more than I’ve ever told my mom or therapist back home. That’s a lot to take in and I can’t be sure how I’ll feel afterward.

A few short silent minutes pass and then Dr. Harrington’s voice fills the air; “Mikaela,” she calls to me with the back door held open. I nod my head to her and then look to Ryan.

His hands move to my shoulders and rub them, and then he kisses my lips. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.” I nod my head to him and try to keep the tears I feel pooling in my eyes at bay. “Mik,” he clears his throat and then continues, “I’m proud of you.”

I can’t respond so when his hands release my shoulders I get up and enter into Dr. Harrington’s office, ready to face the past.

TRUE TO HIS WORD, RYAN
is there waiting for me after the session, and the next two during the week after work. He doesn’t pry or beg for information, but always asks if I want to talk or share anything with him. I can see he’s ready to hear something, but I’m not quite there yet. Even Dr. Harrington has urged me to wait until next week for our first session together as a couple. We both try to go about as if everything is the same, but it’s not. There is a bit of tension pulling at us.