Forever Yours

It Catches Up [23]

23. It Catches Up

Maureen

Even though I'd decided I'd talk to Dad on Sunday after church, I still felt restless. Every moment that I was with Ryan, I was thinking about what I would say to Dad, where I would start, how I would ask.

I dreaded the conversation and it put me on edge. I found myself pulling away from Ryan all of Friday and Saturday. He was bewildered and showed it. I felt terrible but I knew that until everything was out in the open with Dad, I would have no rest and not a moment's peace.

It was Saturday afternoon. I was at Ryan's house, after having spent the morning with him, cleaning his mother's house and taking care of her mail. We sat in his bedroom and I listened to the sound of cars driving past on the street outside. Someone was playing music next door and I tried to figure out what song it was, but then gave up, all my useless striving for a distraction proving null. I couldn't help myself thinking about tomorrow. What I'd say... how I would even begin... would my father say no to my seeing Ryan? How on earth did Lauren find the guts to talk to him about Fred?

I should have talked to Dad before this. This shouldn't have gone on for so long. The thought dropped like a thud into my brain. I should have done things Lauren's way. That had worked well enough, hadn't it? Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ryan look at me, his eyes questioning. I stood up, suddenly needing space... I wandered around the room, absently running my fingers over Ryan's desk, touching his books from college, tracing my fingers over the raised brand name on his laptop. The whole room smelled like him and I had a moment's reprieve from my thoughts when I noticed, with amusement, his clothing draped over a chair and the pile of CDs and books in the corner, stacked haphazardly.

"What are you thinking?" I asked, needing to hear his voice as much as filling the air with anything other than my thoughts.

"Nothing," he said.

I stared at his face, the solemnity in his eyes and the shadow of sadness lurking in their depths.

"You're not telling the truth."

A long moment of silence stretched between us. Finally, he sighed.

"I just keep thinking about the other day... in my kitchen."

"Me too."

"What you said."

"Yeah..."

He sat up, turning his head to look at me. I swallowed, painfully.

"But it's not going to happen... right?"

"What?"

"Well, if your dad says no... you sort of gave me the impression that that would be it. Things would end between us... is that true?"

Of all things to speak about, this wasn't it.

"I don't know."

He was silent again.

"Have you talked to Lacey lately?" I asked abruptly, wanting to change the subject. He stared at me and then ran his hand over his face.

"No. Not since last week."

"She's doing better."

"Yeah."

"She should be home soon."

"Hopefully."

"Shouldn't you be more excited about that?" I tried to ask lightly, but I was too tense, too wound up. It came out sounding more like an accusation than a question.

Ryan looked up at me, his brow furrowed. "I am excited... I mean, but she isn't here yet. So I'm just trying not to think about her too much."

"But she's getting better. You realize that, don't you?"

"Yes... but what does that have to do with anything?" His deliberate, measured words were controlled and emotionless. And it angered me, because I felt so out of control, so emotional myself.

"I think it has to do with a lot. I mean... I would be through the roof with excitement."

"I am," he said, staring at me incredulously. "Maureen, what's wrong?"

Why were there tears so close to rising? Why did I feel like I needed to sit down and cry, preferably somewhere far away from the rest of the world?

"It's just... Lacey gets to live, you know! I feel like we should throw a party or something." My voice sounded thick.

"Okay," Ryan said slowly. He was suddenly right there in front of me, his hands cupping my shoulders, and by his expression, I think he was realizing that I was seriously off my rocker. "Then we will. But what's bothering you? I've never seen you like this."

I couldn't hold it off any longer; tears were streaming down my face. Everything was all wrong. I had to talk to my father tomorrow and the thought that he might say no was almost too much to bear, and that thought was tormenting me day and night to the point where I didn't even want to tell him - but I had to, because I couldn't continue on like this. The constant feeling of guilt, of betrayal. Holding it all inside was driving me mad. There was no one to talk to about it; no one knew my secret. I loved Ryan so much but something within me said that it wasn't enough. How could something so right feel so wrong?

And Lacey. Every time I thought of the girl, I thought of Michael. My sweet Michael. Lacey was going to live... but he had died. What I would've done to have saved him! And nobody, not even Ryan truly realized what it would have meant to have lost her. How devastated he would have felt. He'd been saved from that pain... but my nine year old heart had borne it.

"Who's Michael?"

I was jolted out of my reverie. Blinking in confusion, I looked up... to see Ryan staring down at me, his eyes confused and worried, his thumbs on my cheeks as he wiped at the tears.

I'd been talking out loud?

"Wh-who?" I said thickly.

"Michael, the boy you keep talking about. Who is he?"

I pulled back. Like a sonic drum, I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

No. I couldn't talk about Michael. Not yet. Not now. Not when tears were coursing down my face and my heart was hurting so bad I could barely speak.

"Nobody." I whispered.

"Don't lie, Maureen," Ryan said, his voice gentle. "He died... didn't he?"

"I-I don't want to talk about it."

"Maureen, why won't you tell me?"

I was saved by the sudden blaring of my cell-phone. Ryan made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded vaguely like a growl, and I pulled away, inexplicably relieved as I withdrew my cellphone from my pocket. I didn't check the caller ID.

"Hello?" I said, clearing my throat.

"Maureen?"

Dad.

"Dad?"

Instantly, my heart was in my throat. He knew.

No, that's ridiculous! How could he know?

"Where are you?" He asked, without preamble.

My heart was racing. I was sweating. I felt a cold trickle run down my back - I turned away from Ryan, who was staring at me. "U-um... I'm... I'm at a fr-friend's house."

"Which friend?" My father's voice sounded tight and controlled.

I swallowed. "Um... well, he actually happens to be my limo driver, that Ryan guy... um..."

"He also happens to be the boy that you've been secretly seeing for the past couple of months. Isn't he?"