The Plus One - Chapter 2 of 3

[ Wedding Day Blues ]
There was no answer given to my question before the ride home last night or during the commute for us to even get there. The inside of my car felt strained, uncomfortable, and I could feel the anger radiating from him seated next to me. Stretches of silence played louder than any bass drum could as we made our way past landmarks from our youth and he probably wouldn’t have acknowledged any of them if I’d said something about them. He pretty much spent most of the drive looking out the passenger window to avoid interacting with me and his being so cold made me wonder where his maturity had gone all of a sudden.

My feelings hurt, him treating me like I had no clue of the inner workings of his family or his past screw ups – fine, whatever! I wondered how the evening could have gone to shit like it had after we’d left the rehearsal dinner. When we’d gotten back to my house, I’d shut the car off, and we sat there for a minute silent – both of us stewing for different reasons and I couldn’t take it any longer! I told him, frustrated as fuck, that I’d drive myself to the church today. His last words to me were a softly spoken, ‘Fine…’ Then the sound of his truck starting, idling for maybe a minute, and the engines noise fading into silence when he drove away.

The evening had ended in an emotional crash I hadn’t expected and there were a few tears shed that put an exclamation point on that fact. I was annoyed, my heart ached, and I was angry – a trifecta cocktail of emotions I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. I had trouble falling asleep and the sleep I did get was trash. None of that mattered, because today I needed to be ‘all-in’ for Jen, including her needing me to watch out for Ryan.

Was last night the cracking of his sweet outer candied shell giving way to some inner sour candy crazy? God, I hoped not! Watching over him today was likely going to be a bigger problem than I was equipped to handle!

BUT! I was determined to enjoy the wedding on my terms no matter the ridiculousness exhibited by my plus-one. I’d keep my promise to Jen, and maybe gain a little something for myself – not taking crap from anyone today – especially Ryan!

Upon entering the church Ryan was the first person I’d spotted, that I recognized, and watched as he approached tentatively. I’d steeled myself for what was bound to be an awkward few hours together, but something in the way he looked told me he knew he’d screwed up last night. All I could think was - don't be a fucking dick right now, not here, not for the next couple hours!

“You… God, you look beautiful, Stephanie,” he spoke the compliment softly after positioning himself beside me.

The way he said my name just now did nothing for me, unlike yesterday when I’d first heard him say it. I didn’t bother to look at him, instead focusing on his mom who just happened to turn and looked our way from across the vestibule. I nodded at her, she smiled back as if appreciating that I was here, and then movement behind her caught my eye. The two fathers appeared from the hallway, both looking intense and focused on what was soon to start. They had a brief word with Ryan’s mom, and afterwards she nodded towards the Nave for us to go get seated.

“Thanks,” I finally stated to Ryan for the compliment, probably sounding colder than I had intended. “I guess we need to get seated.”

I didn’t want to have any unnecessary conversations with him right now or to end up back in the emotional shit hole he’d left me in last night – so direct and business like was my mode of operation for the time being. Breathe…

“Sure, but I’d like to apologize for last night if you’ll let me. This thing with my dad, I’m not handling it all that well, and then I was nervous about… Well, about seeing you and my…”

“This isn’t the time or place for this,” I said quietly interrupting him and wondering why seeing me could possibly be an excuse for his stupidity last night. We had a shit-ton of shared experience! I spent almost as much time at your house as I did my own - have you forgotten?

Was his issue because we were in ‘public’ together and the idea of being seen with me was somehow now a problem? I bristled, but told myself we just needed to get through the next hour and then we could put some distance between each other at the reception.

“I know, but…,”

“Apology accepted,” I stated, again interrupting him, but this time turning my head slowly to look at him, “I don’t want to talk about last night or your dad or whatever being around me is causing you issues right now. We’re here for Jen, that’s why I’m here, so please let’s just go sit and get through this as best we can.”

I’d said that way too quickly, my own nerves kicking in and to give my anxiety something to focus on I began walking towards the entryway to the Nave rather than let them spiral into the abyss. I hadn’t given him a chance to reply and if he had any sense he’d know better than to push me.

Ryan caught up to me quickly and tried to take my hand as we made our way down the aisle, but I’d pulled that away to adjust the belt on my dress and didn’t bother to take his hand afterwards. I hoped the message I was sending was clear – not now, not today, I’m done with your shit for the moment – especially if you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.

As we made our way to the first row I recognized some of the high school attendees we’d be seated with at the reception and smiled graciously, which got me polite smiles in return and that felt like an early win.

I loved this dress when I tried it on in the store, especially how it made me feel elegant and confident without shouting either sentiment. I wasn’t trying to show anyone up or compete with anyone. I just wanted to feel beautiful, to fit in, and this dress delivered that for me. Ryan had said I looked good, his mom seemed to approve also, and the reaction from our old friends from the past seemed to concur – that confirmed to me that I belonged here – simple as that.

Once we were seated I knew for the next forty to sixty-plus minutes there’d be no discussions between Ryan and me. This was the time to focus on Jen, her moment, her special day, and any shit going on between Ryan and his dad needed to take a back seat to everything going on presently. Thankfully that is exactly what happened, with the addition of happy tears from me that seemed queued to flow as soon as I’d seen Ryan in the vestibule for some damn reason.

These tears though were for the bride, because what I witnessed of the ceremony was intensely beautiful and heartwarming. This is what love was supposed to look like, their commitment, the devotion to one another, the putting the other before yourself…

I’d gone through a few tissues by the time they’d finished their vows that put a sweet, sweet bow on their declaration of their love for one another. David was a lucky guy, and what I knew of him these past two years they’d been together I’d have to say Jen had picked someone who complemented her perfectly. He was one of the good ones that was for sure.

When the pastor told David he could kiss the bride it brought on more tears and selfishly I wondered if I’d ever capture someone’s heart and have a fraction of what these two obviously had.

[ Reception Bliss ]
I drove myself to the reception and was going to have to do the ‘walk-around’ of my assigned table alone, greeting high school acquaintances and their plus-ones. I was still riding the confidence high for how I looked, though I had to do a minor makeup touch-up before leaving the church. The mini reunion loomed, but I’d decided I wasn’t going to make it a big deal, staying focused on the reconnection aspect and nothing more. Having Ryan with me while doing this would help me get through it a little easier, but I didn’t know where he was, and ended up telling everyone he was around here somewhere when asked.

They knew he was my plus-one because the placard between our seats had our names listed and they must have talked about it before I’d arrived. I didn’t mind, but this chore would have been easier to get through had he been with me as I did the “side-hugs” and “kissy-cheek” thing with a couple of the girls we knew from back in the day. When it came to their significant others, they got polite head nods greetings or polite double-handed handshakes.

One of the gang sitting at our table was a guy named Mitchell I’d had a few classes with during our four-year sentence. When I got to his seat at the table he stood and gave me a hug, which was nice, and I didn’t get any hesitation or odd vibes from him or his wife. We talked for a few minutes and ended up sharing a laugh about some spray paint incident at the entrance to our football stadium we knew had been done by a particularly feral kid that had transferred in during our senior year.

Mitchell had just said, “No telling where that guy is these days…” and I shrugged in reply, but noticed Ryan was at the bar across the banquet room and my heart literally froze. Shit-balls!

“Hey, I just… I see Ryan, I’m going to go grab him, I’ll be right back,” I told the table, trying not to appear frantic about needing to get over to him standing at the open bar.

I hadn’t seen him come in, but I’d been busy making my rounds at the table, and now I needed to make sure he wasn’t about to do something stupid. I could have taken the long way around to get to the bar, but cut across the middle of the dance floor to get there quicker, sidling up to Ryan as casually as I would a gas-pump or checkout register. God I hope people didn’t think I had looked overly anxious to get over to him in my speed walking to get over here while wearing three-inch heels!

“Getting me something to drink?” I asked trying to not make it sound like I was breathless or nervous or anxious. Ugh!

“Thought you might need something after your solo loop around our table, you could have waited for me,” he replied with that stupid grin he seemed all too happy to lay on me.

I think he maybe did that because he thought I thought it was cute. Sure, at times it was buddy, but not when I'm annoyed at you! Dork!

“Here you go, rum and Sprite, and this one with the straw is just Sprite,” the bartender stated setting the two glasses down, the mixed drink in front of Ryan and the Sprite in front of me.

He’d assumed we were together and where the two glasses might belong. I remained focused on Ryan, and watched him reaching for the mixed drink. Panic set in, but once he had it in his hand he was moving it in my direction for me to take.

Oh my God! I don’t need this shit right now!

“Thanks… And I didn’t know where you were and I couldn’t just sit without saying anything to anyone,” I said relieved to be holding the mixed drink, but feeling a little embarrassed for having doubted him.

I watched him grabbing the Sprite afterwards and felt relief wash over me. He likely knew I was watching all of this drink crap closely and that I was on edge, at least until the drinks he’d ordered ended up in the right hands. I probably shouldn’t be drinking at all in front of him, wasn’t that the supportive thing to do?

I was a little surprised he remembered this was my ‘drink of choice’ when we’d sneak a little alcohol out of the bottles at his parents’ house.

“Quick toast?” he asked cocking his head at me.

“Okay…,” I got out with a hint of curiosity leveled at his question.

“To starting over, and long time friends,” he said extending his glass to mine.

“Does that come with your forgiveness for me caring about you and just wanting to help you out if I can?” I asked innocently.

“Do you?”

His question flew opposite of how I felt in the moment, a moment I thought maybe, just maybe, he was back to being that trucker parked in front of my house from yesterday before the rehearsal. My heart glitched a hard pang of regret for pushing that addendum to his toast and before I could say something to that effect someone behind us was tapping a glass with a utensil and a few others had picked up on the cue and were joining in.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here tonight. It gives me great pleasure to present to you the guests of honor this evening, Mr. and Mrs. Coleman!”

People were now standing, clapping – including the two of us after we’d set our drinks back on the bar, as Jen and David made their way in from a side entrance near where our table was. We watched them give quick hugs to some of those standing as they made their way to the bride and grooms table up front, hug their respective parents / parent’s in-law who were already at the table waiting for them to join the rest of the wedding party, and finally after a few waves, points, and smiles that probably wouldn’t fade the entire evening, they sat.

The best man was still standing, microphone in hand, and said, “Thank you everyone, please drink up – there’s an open bar and my wife will kill me if I didn’t mention to tip the bartenders. I’m told that dinner will be served shortly…”

There were a few laughs, and I began to open my clutch to do just that – tip the bartender, but Ryan put his hand over mine and said he’d already handled it. There was noticeable care in the way he’d done that, putting his hand over mine, and I just stared at him for a moment wondering if I’d overreacted regarding his questioning about my caring for him a moment ago. Maybe he was in a better place than he was last night and I needed to just relax, be willing to listen without being critical, and not be too much of a bitch about what he put me through last night.

“So, eat, drink, and be merry! Let’s party!!! Oh, wait, wait! Almost forgot! If you think these love-birds aren’t getting primed enough for later tonight – just tap your glasses if you want them to kiss!” the best man shouted into the microphone.

Of course glassware everywhere began clinking, the two newlyweds looked embarrassed, but kissed while whistles and cheers rang out. It was cute, I couldn’t help but smile and followed Ryan’s lead as we headed back to our table – the long way around.

When we got to the table and had set our drinks down it was his turn to do the ‘loop’, but with the added support of me being along for the ride. I watched him shake hands like a politician and hug and side-kiss the girls from our youth in pretty much the same fashion. There was no indication, that I could see or feel, that he was anything but comfortable being around me. If that was true, what had he meant by saying he was nervous about being around me at the church?

Done with my second pass around the table we sat, him holding my chair out for me was a nice touch, but once seated he was talking to Mitchell on his left, while Marlene had touched my right arm and I looked her way smiling.

“Beautiful, huh?”

“Oh God yes… I’ve been looking forward to this, to get away from the kids, and seeing the old gang too of course,” she began, but looked to be formulating a question. “I know I told you this already, but you look amazing, seriously. You’ve got us wondering though, about you two… Can I ask if you two are together?”

The question had surprised me, but Ryan had been on my mind in a variety of ways the past twenty-four hours or so. While the idea of us being ‘together’ wasn’t something I’d ever considered, there was no denying I did feel a strange gravitational pull towards him. Was that because I felt bad for whatever issues he was having with his dad? That probably played a bit of a role in my curiosity with where my emotions were flowing concerning him.

Then there was the undeniable fact he’d turned out to be a pretty decent looking guy, was easy to talk with – when not consumed with whatever was going on with his parents and acting like a moody ass! He seemed to understand who I was—both then and now—and he hadn’t asked me a single inappropriate question about my transition. That last revelation alone could fill the ‘Pro’ column if I were keeping score for some random guy I was on a date with.

I got that people were curious about the whole transition decision and process, but unless I want to tell you personal shit – there wasn’t ever a reason to press – and Ryan hadn’t and I was grateful for that.

Finally, there was also the sobering fact that it had been at least a year without a single male suitor or having been on one meaningful date – so my thoughts concerning Ryan had the potential to become dangerous. I doubted anything like that would happen without me getting a little tipsy, which wasn’t really the example I would want to make in front of a recovering alcoholic. I had to temper all those conflicting pulls on my emotions, especially given he’d so easily pushed me away last night.

Maybe I should rethink the idea there should be any attraction to this man – last night had sucked!

Did he not trust me? Was my thinking we had a deeper connection only because of Jen and my twenty years of shared history of him being her ‘little’ brother, always around when I was with her, and annoying as fuck most times?

I saw Marlene’s eyes widen ever so slightly and I wondered how long I’d been…

“What are you two talking about?”

I looked to my left and Ryan’s face was right there, like six inches from my face, and full-on inserting himself into our conversation. I looked back at Marlene praying she wasn’t about to throw me under a bus, because my tongue would not engage!

“I asked Stephanie if you were back in San Diego or just in town for the wedding,” Marlene replied smiling through that lie so expertly I actually believed her.

I took the tiniest of breathes and looked back at Ryan before propagating the lie, “I was about to tell her about your company and Utah, but you go ahead.”

For the next however many minutes Ryan and Marlene were having a conversation I was doing the ping-pong ball head back and forth thing, giggling to be polite when necessary, and thankful when the food service had started so I could get a break from this back and forth they were having.

There’d been minimal talking during the salad and main course service, but enough glass-tinkling for the requesting of smooches at the head table to keep everyone engaged with what was going on around us. Ryan had gone to the bar to get us refills on our drinks, which was still a concern I had, but not as intense as earlier – I turned to Marlene, who’d been sitting quietly while her husband was talking to Lisa’s husband about the absence of football in town.

“Thank you for the San Diego save,” I said quietly.

“Pulled that out of my ass truthfully,” she chuckled, before finishing with, “But think I’ve got my answer.”

“He’s certainly changed from when I last saw him ten years ago at his graduation,” I began, but she interrupted me.

“I’ll say…,” she chirped and we both giggled a little because – yeah, he was a good looking guy obviously.

“Anyway, we’re just friends doing the reconnect thing for the wedding because we were slow to find dates, well I was. He was just MIA and Jen stuck him with me,” I finished my answer to her original question that Ryan had interrupted earlier.

“Oh? Are you sure? He looks at you like there’s more to it than that,” she stated with genuine surprise.

“Yeah, right,” I replied suddenly embarrassed.

“You’re a very attractive woman, fuck, my husband was like, ‘She’s kind of a smoke show’ after you’d introduced yourself and began talking to Lisa and her man.”

“Come on...,” I complained feeling the heat in my face from being flush.

“You want to ask him yourself?” she challenged, turning to look at her husband, then back at me.

“No!” I pleaded, grabbing her arm.

“K, then take this as one woman’s opinion, and other’s are noticing too, Ryan’s definitely into…,” and she stopped speaking, tilting her head for me to look to my left.

What I saw was Ryan was steps away, so I shifted in my seat and accepted the drink presented to me before he slid into his seat. He had the glass with the straw again and I hoped that meant another Sprite. I needed to trust what he’d told Jen was true – that he had a handle on his sobriety and maybe my trusting in him would get me the same in return if I dared to ask about the issue with his dad again.

I thanked him for getting me a refill and he clinked his glass against mine when I presented it. There was an easy smile that accompanied that, but there was movement at the head table and we watched to see what was going to happen next.

A moment later the best man was directing everyone’s attention to the cake, which had been wheeled out in front of the main table. Jen and David approached, there were some conversations going on we couldn’t hear, but plenty of smiles, and comedic gestures happening besides them the entire time from the best man. It was nice to see they got through that without either of them wearing a face full of cake.

There was a cute moment when David had dabbed the corner of Jen’s mouth with a napkin because she had a little frosting on it. Actual murmurs of ‘Ah…’ rose from every corner of the banquet hall after David had done that. He was setting the bar pretty high for any guy in attendance who was single tonight!

The best man’s toast followed the cake cutting. It turned into a rambling, all be it good natured, roast of David before he got to the very sweet sentiment of wishing the couple live long happy lives filled with love. The bouquet and garter toss brought on more laughs courtesy of the best man’s comedic timing.

I’d been shamed into getting in on the bouquet toss and had noticed Jen’s warm-ups for that with the photographer. I might have made sure I was on the opposite side of the group of women vying for it. I missed catching it by a country mile.

“You didn’t even move out there,” Ryan had said after I’d returned to the table.

I gave him a half-hearted shrug because I felt a little embarrassed he’d called me out.

He bumped my shoulder with his to let me know he was just messing with me, and when I looked at him he said, “You won’t need any bouquet to get there.”

I smiled, but I wondered if he understood what it was like for a trans woman when it came to romance, let alone getting the opportunity to walk down the aisle. At the rate I was attracting a mate, I probably needed any superstitious or tradition based advantage I could get. I told him the next wedding I was invited to I’d be more aggressive.

Probably not, no - definitely not!

The couple’s first dance was next up and when completed the DJ was inviting everyone to the dance floor. The song ‘Shake it off’ by Taylor Swift began playing and our entire table was standing and moving toward the dance floor. For a second, I just watched them head that way, but Ryan was standing now and flexed his hand at me to take his, gave me that goofy-assed grin again. For the next twenty minutes, the “gang” from our high school, their spouses, and even Jen and David, who joined us briefly, were dancing like we’d been transported back in time. We laughed, danced with our partners, and danced as a one big group of lunatics. We’d gone off the rails and the photographers pictures would be proof of that I’m sure!

“Represent!” Mitchell had yelled during some song and everyone of us leaned into having a blast while dancing together!

The sixth song slowed things down and I thought we’d go back to the table given the piano intro, but as Adele began to sing, ‘There ain't no gold in this river... That I've been washing my hands in forever... I know there is hope in these waters…’ for a song I knew all too well, ‘Easy on Me’, Ryan had pulled me in close and we were swaying slowly in our little corner of the dance floor like we were the only two out here. Calling it magical or profound or whatever, wouldn't begin to do justice to what I felt in this moment.

The worries I’d had about not measuring up were little more than footnotes in some dusty diary I’d kept as a kid. Those doubts I had about who I really was were weaker now, they’d never be completely gone, but they were oh so much quieter right now. I was that woman I’d always known I was, I was free…

Those hopes a man would be holding me, undeterred, not afraid to be connected, and very much going ‘easy on me’ made me feel at ease with the struggles I had in dismantling my previous life, the deconstruction, the rebuilding that was necessary to find my own happiness, and I felt every word Adele poured into this song she’d written for her son to explain the leaving of her husband.

How was it, in this moment, that Ryan could make me feel so in tune with myself without having said a single thing? I could feel the warmth of our bodies, a subtle vibration between us that felt comfortable without needing it to be defined… Had Marlene seen something I hadn’t, that there was more going on between us?

At the second chorus when she sang, 'Go easy on me, baby... I was still a child... Didn't get the chance to... Feel the world around me...' the tears welling in my eyes couldn’t be held back, and I think Ryan may have held me a little tighter, maybe letting me know he understood, telling me he was here and not going anywhere.

As the song faded I could feel him digging in his jacket, finding my hand, and placing a tissue in it.

“You alright?”

“Sssorry… I’m just being… Stupid me, emotional for no reason… I’m, okay,” I whispered into his shoulder, dabbing at my eyes and cheek, hoping no one saw me like this as another slow song began that I wasn’t familiar with.

“Let’s get some air,” he suggested.

I could only nod in reply, not trusting I could speak. He took my hand and I willingly followed him through a group of tables out into the hallway. We walked in the direction of the small boutique hotels lobby, finding a quiet corner with a couple comfy chairs in a nook away from prying eyes.

“Need another tissue?”

“No, thank you… Probably ruined my makeup,” I commented looking at the tissue I had in my hand and seeing some of the damage it contained. I’d already had to make a repair after the church ceremony, so it was likely another touch-up was in order.

“You look fine,” Ryan replied smiling. His face took on a thoughtful look, “You think they’ll make it?”

“Jen and David?” I asked surprised.

He nodded.

“Absolutely,” I replied with conviction. “Why do you ask?”

“Don’t know, it’s… I look at them and wonder what’s the ‘secret sauce’ that makes them want to continue waking up next to one another for the rest of their lives. How’d she find ‘him’, ‘the one’, when there are billions of people out there?”

“You can’t be serious… Are you saying you’ve never been in love?”

“No… Have you ever been in love?” he countered.

“You realize that my ‘in love’ opportunities are a little tougher to come by, right?” I asked without leveling as much complaint in that statement as I could because I wasn’t looking for pity.

“Why?”

“Really, have you been living under a rock?”

“No, but there’s been enough talk about trans issues over the past bunch of years that it’s become a little more normalized, maybe accepted, right?”

No, no, NO! He hadn’t just blown to hell my assumption he was in tune with my struggles by actually saying the idea someone could be trans had been ‘normalized’ by society because the ‘topic’ was in the news or on a ballot initiative or some law was being passed by some senators to screw trans folk?! Had he not paid attention to the current administrations attempts to erase anything trans?! Ugh… Breathe…

“Normalized? It’s really been more the opposite that’s in play – the attention has brought out the bolder hate that lives and thrives out there… I don’t really want to go down this rabbit hole, but truly very few people out there agree with the idea someone can be trans or think there should be support for anything dealing with the issues we’re facing,” I complained with restraint that was likely evident.

“Fair enough, I was over simplifying, maybe hoping things were getting easier for you, I’m sorry… I’m on the road a lot, so not much news reaches me and honestly I don’t miss not hearing all the depressing shit that’s bombarding the masses anyway. I don’t do social media because it leads to ‘doom-scrolling’ and that just seems pointless, counterproductive I guess. I’d like to believe there’s someone for everyone though, at least that’s what a lot of the people I meet on the road tend to crow about when we’re talking about relationships,” he offered.

The apology felt like he might have gotten what I was saying, and I think we were both more likely to the type of person to ‘Be Kind’ first than charge into being some judgmental asshole when it came to any class of human beings. My faith in him had been partially restored, but I wanted to know where the hell ‘crow’ had come from!

“Crow about? Okay, is that a Utah thing?” I asked smiling. When he rolled his eyes back at me I added, “I have hope there’s someone out there who can see me for me, not as some genetic screw-up who needed fixing just to exist. Dating’ been a constant state of whiplash I won’t bore you with and I truly wonder why it can’t just be normal, simple, and without all the pageantry fluff. Boil it all down, it’s just figuring out compatibility at best and to have a little fun, a couple hour distraction from our norms at the worst. We’re social beings; we need connections for Christ’s sake…”

“I’d agree with you on the connections thing, but not about you ever being screwed up. Sorry, known you for too long and have never felt you were fucked up in any way. I hate hearing that dating has been so painful, it shouldn’t be. Promise, it’s not been easy for me either being on the road as much as I am. I haven’t done much in that realm in the past five years though, it’s gotten old, I’ll freely admit that.”

“Thanks for that, understanding… Hey, don’t get me wrong though, I’ve got every hope I can eventually build to that kind of relationship that I’ll ‘never tire of waking up next to someone’. Something with intent, a partnership, and love certainly. No roles we’re confined to, just a want to do for the other person,” I said trying to keep the preaching out of what I’d voiced. “Anyway, so you’ve been in love, what’s the story there?”

He was studying me hard, and for a moment I thought maybe he’d decided my makeup was out of sorts, but then his look softened.

“It was a while ago, very consuming on a lot of levels and not like I was a stalker or anything,” he said with a chuckle.

I smiled, his making a point about not being a stalker was cute, but I also picked up a tinge of pain in what he’d said and needed to tread lightly so I wouldn’t scare him away from telling me about her.

“Don’t answer if you don’t want, but what happened?” I asked, happy to not be talking about me or hearing myself speak in tongues or loopy bullshit regarding my troubled love life.

“There were parent problems, plus we were young, and she had things she needed to do…”

“Have you looked her up since whatever caused you two to go your separate ways?” When he nodded, I followed up with, “Is she in a better place now, maybe less parental issues, got her shit together?”

“I think so, we really haven’t talked much, but I think she’s in a better place. The parental stuff is still problematic for both of us,” he answered easily.

“What’s the hesitation to try and rekindle what you had, assuming there’s something still there for you to rekindle and she wants that with you?”

“I don’t think she knew how much she meant to me, but that’s my fault and I was unsure of myself and I’ve had my own demons to contend with certainly… She went away and I was stuck dealing with the loss, with my own troubles. It might be the classic case of ‘the timing wasn’t right’. I don’t know if there are parts of my past she can overlook now, I may have fucked it all up.”

“If there was something there, something you shared together that was good, maybe she could look past where the relationship fizzled? I hope you pursue that if there’s even a remote chance she might be interested, you’re a pretty good guy, I’d know, been around you enough to know. She could be that one in whatever billion,” I got out before giving a little giggle and hoping he took that serious even with the chuckle I couldn’t hold in.

“Thanks… That might be a stretch, but who knows… It would be tough to try and rekindle any of that. All that effort and us just ending up friends? I... I don’t think I could do that, be around her and wanting more.”

The way he said that made me think about his problems with his dad for whatever reason and how their relationship was strained.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on with your dad? I thought a lot about your ‘acting’ comment and I have to be missing something obvious.”

Ryan looked uncomfortable for the first time since we’d seen each other at the churck, but after a moment resolved whatever his initial apprehension was before saying, “Tell you what. I’m hitting the road early tomorrow. Come to breakfast with me, and I’ll tell you the whole story.”

Something in the way he’d asked me to breakfast had me thinking, ‘YES! Finally!’ His tone had a raw honesty to it that was offering to let me in, to see what was troubling him, and the care in his eyes had certainly already drawn me in – he wanted me to know.

Was I over thinking this? Had Marlene’s suspicion about him being more interested in me been right? Did we have too much history for there to be anything but us being friends? Ugh!

Our default setting was ‘friends’ because of Jen. Shit, Ryan and I fought like crazy as kids, ragging on each other incessantly, and our constant teasing – which rarely was to injure – was certainly meant to score points. I wanted to know the reason for this long standing attitude of his dad, and selfishly I also wanted to spend a little more time with him…

“Name the time and place,” I replied, sharing my phone number so he could text me where to meet.

We decided to head back and we ended up right back in the middle of our group of friends on the dance floor. Everyone was dancing and singing songs that spanned all the years we’d been together as kids and a few recent favorites. It was more than just fun, it was what my soul needed – right up until an hour of being on my feet straight and dancing non-stop – that’s when my feet began to protest. I took a look at both Marlene and Lisa – both of whom were barefoot and I ended up joining them barefoot the rest of the night.

In the end it had been the gang from high school that finally closed this party down, well actually Jen’s dad had an hour after Jen and David had left for the honeymoon suite, but we were the biggest group on the dance floor for the last song – which was ‘Far Away’, by Nickleback. There were twenty or so people paired up on the dance floor holding each other and swaying to the music, including Ryan and me.

As he got hands on my hips I couldn’t help but smile when Chad Kroeger started singing, ‘This time, this place... Misused, mistakes...Too long, too late... Who was I to make you wait? Just one chance, just one breath... Just in case there's just one left...’ It was a great song to end the evening, but as the chorus came into view I could hear Ryan singing along softly.

“Cause you know... You know, you know... I love you... I loved you all along...”

“You know this song?” I asked leaning back a little to look up at him, our faces a few inches apart.

He nodded and sang the next couple of lines to me, "And I miss you... Been far away for far too long... I keep dreaming you'll be with me and you'll never go... Stop breathing, if I don't see you anymore..."

“You missed me?” I asked all cutesy and stupid like.

“Barely, thought about you” he said, grinning.

The way he was looking at me made me feel something, a want to, a tingling I recognized… And before I could let myself lose all control and did something unadvised, I pressed my cheek into his shoulder.

“Yeah, well I might have missed you too, runt…”

It was just a song, a moment, and I knew better than to take a chance and try to kiss him. I felt him hug me a little tighter though, breathe, his relaxing into the embrace as we swayed like we were the only two on the dance floor. That, that ease being with me spoke volumes to me in the moment.

When the song finished we slowed to a stop and didn’t move for a couple seconds. Our friends were clearing the dance floor, the lights had come up, the moment we were having interrupted and unlikely ever to be captured again. I kept hearing, ‘Hold on to me, never let me go... Keep breathing... ‘, as Ryan and I finally made the move to follow the rest of the gang off the dance floor – holding on, holding hands.

We said our goodbyes and somewhere in doing that Ryan had said he would walk me out. I appreciated that, told him I wanted to say a quick goodbye to his parents and we walked over hand in hand for no other reason than he was going to be walking me out to my car. Or maybe the song still had a grip on me? Whatever…

I hadn’t expected us being together would affect his dad after such a beautiful evening, but he had given Ryan a look that bordered on annoyance, with a faint mix of something else, disgust? Wanting to spare Ryan any more battle scars, I quickly hugged both his parents, thanked them for a wonderful evening, and we headed out to get me and my car reunited. I was tempted to ask about his dad’s attitude as we made our way out because I was sure he saw what I’d seen, but I had to trust that I would get the details over breakfast in a couple hours.

Still, it was weird that his dad had done that with me in such close proximity. For a moment I wondered if his dad’s look wasn’t intended for Ryan, but for me? Was I the reason him and his dad were at odds? Tomorrow… I’d get the answers tomorrow.

At my car there was a nice ‘friends-zone’ hug that included him touching his forehead to mine. I know I was probably sending all the right signals, but he’d straightened up and smiled at me, saying, “Text me so I know you made it home. I haven’t had this much fun in forever, thank you for a great time, Stephanie.”

I drove away feeling mostly fulfilled because it truly was a fantastic evening we'd shared with Jen and David, I got to hang with my friends from the past, and I wished we all could do this kind of thing more often. I pulled away wondering what had stopped Ryan from just going for it, screw the friendship history crap, kiss me – see if there was something more there. Maybe his being drawn to the woman from his past was just too much… Kudo's to his being dedicated to her.

Then again, maybe I was bad at sending the right signals? Why hadn’t I just hooked my hands behind his neck and pulled him in… Ugh!

::: --- :::

Don't be afraid to click the "Kudos" (Thumbs Up) icon for this story if it's done anything for you. If you comment, I will reply, so check back if you do.

If there are problems or you have criticisms you'd like to share privately, feel free to message me on the site (you’ll need an account) or via email (rachelmnm@hotmail.com(link sends e-mail)) - I'd love to address them if I can and have fixed many an “Oops!” after posting a story (Thanks to everyone for those assists – very much appreciated). I'm still growing as a storyteller; I'm far from perfect, so any help is much appreciated and valued. I've got a few other stories out there if you're interesting - look me up.

Thanks for reading... And Thank You Emma Ann Tate for the assists on this (seriously people - go read her stuff!).

Rachel M. Moore



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