His Past [9]

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9. His Past

Maureen

Ryan.

Ryan was Lacey's brother.

At first, all I could feel was shock. Ryan had never mentioned having siblings, had never mentioned any family members with cancer... Lacey spoke about him sometimes, but I'd never made the connection between her Ryan and the Ryan that I knew. He was the last person I would have ever imagined to have been Lacey's older brother.

I forced myself to walk forward; I even managed a pained smile. The initial shock gradually wore off but an overwhelming sense of sympathy immediately took its place. Ryan, poor Ryan...

"Hi," I said in a scratchy voice, pushing the word past the lump in my throat. Lacey was pasty white and strange little spots covered her forehead and cheeks. She looked even weaker since the last time I'd seen her. Her big, blue eyes- now I realized how identical to Ryan's they were- looked up at me expectantly, a pleased smile brightening her pale face.

Ryan stood up, shock flashing across his face. "Maureen, what are you doing here?" He looked to Lacey and then back at me. "You know Lacey?"

"How do you know Mary?" Lacey asked curiously, staring up at him.

"You're Lacey's big brother?" I interjected.

Since Ryan seemed to be receiving the higher quota of questions to reply to, he spoke first. "I'm Lacey's brother...and I work for... Mary," he answered his sister, but his brow wrinkled in confusion at the name. Lacey's nickname for me.

"Ryan works for you?" Lacey questioned, confused. I nodded, and after shooting Ryan a quick, unsure glance, I went round to the other side of the bed and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"Yeah, he does... he drives me around in my car." I smiled, hesitantly sitting down beside her. I felt suddenly self-conscious, with Ryan there. "But I didn't know he was your brother... you usually call him Cookie."

Ryan laughed quietly behind me and when I glanced at him, I noticed the redness in his eyes had faded a little and he seemed all-around calmer. "It's her nickname for me... I had no idea that it was you she was always talking about. She called you Mary."

"Mary is my nickname," I said, smiling at Lacey. Lacey giggled.

"So we all know each other." she stated happily.

Ryan and I both laughed. "I guess we do," he said, touching her cheek.

I watched him, feeling the seven year old sense of emptiness and sadness creep over me like an old, familiar blanket I couldn't ever get rid of. Seeing him with her reminded me so much of Michael. The way I would feel sitting next to him, all those years ago, holding his hand while I cried and begged him not to die... The atmosphere, the sense of death everywhere, the smells, the sick children... I drew in a ragged breath of air.

"So Lacey... tell me why you call Ryan Cookie." I said lightly, pushing out, what I hoped, was a genuine looking smile.

She giggled, raspy. "When I was little, Ryan had to babysit me when Mommy went to work... and I cried a lot, because I wanted her, so he would feed me lots and lots of cookies, until I would stop."

Ryan interjected as I laughed. "I was fifteen and Mom had an evening job as a waitress... we couldn't afford a babysitter. Lacey was only a year old and I had no idea how to take care of a baby. It took me awhile to get the hang of it."

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