Chương 10
“Ryan is angry with me,” Linda added.
“Why?”
“I told him going to your work was stupid.”
Emily pressed her thumb against the edge of the phone.
“What did he say?”
“That everyone was turning against him.”
The sentence sounded exactly like Ryan.
Not cruel.
Not reflective.
Cornered.
“What did you say?”
“That maybe people disagreeing with him is not the same as people turning against him.”
Emily almost smiled despite everything.
“How did that go?”
“He left.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Emily looked through the glass at Megan.
Her sister was scrolling through something on television.
“Linda.”
“Yes?”
“If he comes here, don’t tell him anything about what I said.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t give him my work schedule.”
“I won’t.”
Emily hesitated.
“Thank you for telling me about Bill.”
Linda breathed out slowly.
“I should have told Ryan a long time ago.”
“That part is between you and him.”
“Yes.”
Neither woman knew how to end the call.
Finally Linda said, “Emily?”
“What?”
“The rag was not a joke.”
Emily closed her eyes.
For some reason, that sentence hurt worse than anything else Linda had said.
“No,” Emily whispered.
“It wasn’t.”
After they hung up, Emily stayed on the balcony until her hands became numb.
Megan eventually opened the door and held out a sweatshirt.
Emily took it.
“You heard?”
“Only your side.”
Emily pulled the sweatshirt over her head.
“His father treated Linda badly.”
Megan leaned against the doorway.
“How badly?”
“Controlling.”
Emily looked down at the parking lot.
“He hit her once.”
Megan’s face changed.
“Does Ryan know?”
“No.”
“That explains some things.”
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t excuse them.”
“I know.”
They stood together in the cold.
After a while, Megan said, “You look disappointed.”
Emily laughed softly.
“I think part of me wanted Linda to be simple.”
“What does that mean?”
“I wanted her to just be awful.”
“That would be easier.”
“Yes.”
Megan shoved her hands into the sweatshirt pocket she was still wearing.
“People are inconvenient that way.”
Emily looked out at the traffic.
She had wanted a villain because villains gave clean instructions.
Run.
Fight.
Never look back.
A frightened woman who had survived by normalizing what hurt her was harder to hate.
It was also harder to trust.
Emily’s phone vibrated in her pocket.
She took it out.
The message was from Ryan.
Mom told me everything.
A second message appeared before Emily could respond.
I need to see you.
Then a third.
May you like
I think I’m becoming him.
Emily read the message twice without touching the keyboard.Megan leaned closer but did not ask to see the screen.Emily handed her the phone.Megan read all three messages and gave it back.“That is either a very important sentence or a very useful sentence.”Emily looked at her.“What does that mean?”“It means I don’t know whether he believes it or whether he knows you need to hear it.”The distinction landed uncomfortably close to what Emily had been thinking.Ryan had always been good at finding the sentence that kept a conversation alive.She typed, I’m glad she told you.He answered almost immediately.Can we talk?Emily looked through the balcony door toward the apartment.Not tonight, she wrote.The typing bubbles appeared, vanished, then appeared again.Okay.A minute passed.Then:I called Jake.Emily frowned.Why?Because I needed someone who wouldn’t lie to me.That sentence stayed with her.She did not answer.Ryan sent nothing else.For the first time since she had left the house, he allowed silence to remain where she put it.Emily slept six uninterrupted hours.When she woke, gray morning light filled Megan’s living room and her neck hurt from the couch pillow slipping beneath her shoulder.Megan had already left for work.A note was taped to the refrigerator.Coffee is drinkable.Eggs questionable.Do not trust the yogurt.Emily smiled.She poured coffee and stood barefoot in the kitchen while her phone remained on the table.Eventually she picked it up.There were no missed calls from Ryan.One message from Linda said simply, He slept here.Emily did not know whether she had been worried until the tension left her shoulders.She showered, dressed for work, and drove herself.Ryan did not appear at the clinic.He did not call at lunch.By late afternoon, the absence had become its own form of pressure.Emily caught herself checking the parking lot and then became annoyed that she was checking.At four thirty, Diane slid yesterday’s folded sticky note toward her.“You want this?”Emily unfolded it.Ryan Brooks, 8:26 a.m., came to clinic asking for Emily.Diane’s handwriting was compact and slanted.Emily folded the note again and put it in her purse.“You think I’m being dramatic?”Diane looked offended.“I don’t know enough about your life to decide that.”“That may be the nicest thing anyone has said to me this week.”“I wasn’t trying to be nice.”“I know.”Diane pushed her glasses higher.“That’s why it worked.”After work, Emily sat in her car and called the admissions office at Ohio State.She had looked at the number three times during lunch without pressing it.A woman named Beth answered.Emily explained that she had deferred an accelerated nursing admission and wanted to know whether the deferral could be reversed.Beth typed for several seconds.“You deferred until next fall?”“Yes.”“And now you want the January cohort?”“If possible.”More typing.“We’re close to capacity.”Emily’s stomach tightened.“But not completely closed.”Emily sat straighter.“What would I need to do?”“You’d need to reactivate the application by Friday, send the updated financial documents, and talk to the program coordinator.”“That’s it?”“That’s enough.”Beth laughed softly.“There are no guarantees.”“I understand.”“I can email the forms.”“Please.”When the call ended, Emily remained parked beneath a bare maple tree.Students from the community college down the road passed on the sidewalk with backpacks and paper coffee cups.She had postponed nursing school because marriage made January inconvenient.Three days ago, that decision had seemed responsible.Now she could not remember whose responsibility it had served.She opened the email when it arrived.The tuition estimate made her wince.So did the list of prerequisites that might need updating.Freedom, apparently, had spreadsheets.She drove to Megan’s apartment and spread the forms across the kitchen table.Two hours later, her father called.“Your mother wants to know if you’re coming for dinner Sunday.”Emily rubbed her forehead.“Dad, it’s Wednesday.”“I told her that.”“And?”“She says Sunday still happens even when people have problems.”Emily laughed quietly.“That sounds like Mom.”“She made pot roast.”“On Wednesday?”“No, she is planning the pot roast.”“Of course she is.”Thomas paused.“How are you?”Emily looked at the nursing forms.“I called Ohio State.”Her father knew immediately what she meant.“You did?”“Yes.”Another pause.Then, “Good.”Emily’s eyes stung.“Mom is going to think I’m making decisions too fast.”“Your mother thinks produce expires too fast.”“Dad.”“I love your mother.”“I know.”“I’m just saying speed bothers her.”Emily traced the edge of an application page.“What do you think?”“I think you wanted nursing school before you wanted Ryan.”The simplicity of it startled her.“That doesn’t mean it’s practical.”“Nothing good I ever did was practical at the beginning.”“You worked at the same company for thirty-two years.”“Yes, and I quit community college to take that job because your mother was pregnant with you.”Emily sat still.Thomas rarely spoke about that period.“Do you regret it?”“Sometimes.”The answer came without hesitation.Emily had expected him to deny it.He continued.“Regret isn’t the same as wishing you didn’t exist.”“I know.”“I wish I had gone back later.”He cleared his throat.“Maybe I would have hated it.”Emily smiled faintly.“You hated school.”“I hated paying for parking.”That made her laugh.Then Thomas said, “Don’t confuse sacrifice with proof you love somebody.”Emily stopped smiling.Her father spoke more quietly.“I did that for a long time.”“Does Mom know?”“She probably does now.”Emily heard her mother in the background asking who he was talking about.Thomas said, “I have to go.”“You just blew up your marriage and you’re hanging up?”“It’ll survive.”He lowered his voice.“Probably.”Emily laughed again.After they hung up, she completed the reactivation form.Her hand shook slightly when she clicked submit.The confirmation page appeared with no fireworks, no music, and no guarantee.Emily stared at it anyway.A choice had been made.Not about Ryan.That mattered.At seven thirty, he texted.I talked to someone today.Emily waited before responding.Jake?No.A counselor.She sat back.The apartment was quiet except for the refrigerator humming.Why?His reply took longer this time.Because Jake said if I only go because I want you back, I’ll quit the second I get you back.Emily read the sentence slowly.That sounded like Jake.He had always been blunt in ways Ryan usually described as obnoxious.Ryan continued.So I tried to figure out why else I would go.And?The typing bubbles appeared.Because I scared myself yesterday.Emily’s fingers went cold.At the clinic?Yes.I grabbed you.You let go.I still grabbed you.Emily looked at her wrist.There had never been a mark.She had almost decided by morning that the moment was too small to count.Ryan apparently had not.What did the counselor say?That one appointment doesn’t prove anything.Emily almost smiled.Good counselor.Ryan replied with a single word.Yeah.Then:He asked what I think anger lets me do.Emily waited.I didn’t know how to answer.Another message came.Then I started listing things.Emily stared at the phone.What things?Checking your phone.Telling you what to wear.Showing up at work.Getting pissed when you see Megan without me.Emily’s throat tightened.She had not mentioned Megan.Ryan sent another message.Making you explain yourself until you get tired and give in.That one hurt.Emily set the phone down.For several minutes she walked around the kitchen without doing anything.She opened a cabinet.Closed it.Filled a glass with water and forgot to drink it.Part of her wanted to rush toward the admission.This was what she had been waiting for during dozens of arguments.Recognition without interrogation.Responsibility without her building the argument first.Another part of her distrusted how badly she wanted to believe him.She returned to the table.I’m glad you went.Thank you.He responded.I’m not asking you to come home.Emily stared at that sentence longest of all.Okay.That night, Megan returned with grocery bags and found nursing forms covering half the table.She dropped the bags onto a chair.“Oh.”Emily looked up.“What?”“You did something.”“I sent the reactivation request.”Megan’s eyes widened.“For January?”“If they let me.”“What about money?”“I don’t know yet.”“What about work?”“I don’t know.”“Where would you live?”“I don’t know.”Megan began smiling.“This is very unlike you.”“I’m aware.”“You usually need a spreadsheet before buying shampoo.”“I have spreadsheets.”“Of course you do.”Megan pulled out a chair.“Are you doing this because of Ryan?”Emily considered the question.“No.”The answer felt clean.“I think I delayed it because of him.”“That is not the same thing.”“No.”Megan began unloading groceries.Halfway through, she held up a tub of yogurt.“Apparently this one is safe.”Emily laughed.Then she said, “Ryan went to counseling.”Megan stopped.“Already?”“Yes.”“That’s fast.”“He said Jake told him not to go just to get me back.”Megan put the yogurt in the refrigerator.“I like Jake more now.”“So do I.”“What do you think?”Emily folded one of the forms.“I don’t know.”“That’s allowed.”“He named things.”“What things?”“Things he’s done.”Megan closed the refrigerator.“Without you prompting him?”“Yes.”“That’s something.”Emily nodded.“It is.”Megan leaned against the counter.“It’s not everything.”“I know.”They left it there.Two days passed without a crisis.The lack of drama felt almost suspicious.Emily worked.Ryan sent one message each evening and nothing more.Linda did not call.Patricia texted twice about Sunday dinner and once about whether Emily wanted her winter coat from the house.Emily replied only about the coat.On Friday afternoon, the nursing program coordinator called.A seat had opened.Emily stepped into an empty treatment room to take the call.“If your prerequisites verify,” the coordinator said, “we can offer you reinstatement for January.”Emily gripped the edge of the counter.“When would I need to decide?”“Monday.”Three days.Emily almost laughed.For months, she had treated nursing school like a door that could remain open forever while she decided whether other people needed her more.Now the door had a deadline.“Thank you,” she said.“I’ll decide.”After the call, she stood alone among exercise bands and foam rollers.Her first impulse was to call Ryan.That disturbed her.Then she understood why.For almost a year, every major decision had passed through him before it became real.She called Megan instead.Her sister screamed loudly enough that Emily pulled the phone away from her ear.Then she called her father.Thomas said, “Well, hell.”Which, from him, sounded like celebration.She did not call her mother.She did not call Ryan.That evening, when Ryan sent his usual message, she told him.Ohio State may have a January seat for me.His response came almost immediately.That’s great.Emily waited.Then another message appeared.Are you going to take it?Probably.There was a long pause.Ryan started typing several times.Finally he wrote:I should have said that a year ago.Emily sat very still.Another message followed.I was afraid you’d become someone who didn’t need me.Her chest tightened.Ryan continued before she could answer.I think I made sure you needed permission instead.Emily closed her eyes.That was the sentence.Not the rag.Not the apology.Not his father.That was the shape of the year laid bare in sixteen words.When she opened her eyes, the phone was still in her hand.She typed slowly.I never needed permission.I know.No, she wrote.I don’t think you did.He did not answer for almost ten minutes.Then:You’re right.Emily put the phone down.She did not feel victorious.She felt tired.Sunday dinner arrived despite everything.Emily nearly canceled twice.In the end, she went because her father asked, not because her mother did.Megan came too.Patricia had set the dining room table with the good plates, which made the evening feel like either Christmas or a hostage negotiation.Ryan was not there.Emily had made that condition clear.Her mother hugged her too long at the door.“You’ve lost weight.”“I’ve been gone four days.”“Stress.”“Mom.”“I’m stopping.”Thomas handed Emily a glass of iced tea.“Your mother has been stopping all afternoon.”Patricia gave him a look.Megan whispered, “Marriage thriving?”Thomas whispered back, “Never better.”Dinner was awkward but survivable.For fifteen minutes they discussed football, Patricia’s neighbor replacing a fence, and whether Megan’s car needed new tires.Then Patricia put down her fork.“I talked to Linda.”Emily stopped chewing.“Why?”“She called me.”“What did you talk about?”Patricia looked uncomfortable.“Her husband.”Thomas stared at his plate.Apparently he already knew.Emily set down her fork.“What did she tell you?”“Enough.”Patricia folded her napkin once.“I owe you an apology.”Emily waited.Her mother looked directly at her.“When you called, I was thinking about the wedding.”“The money.”“The guests.”“What people would say.”She swallowed.“I was thinking about everything except what happened to you.”No one spoke.Patricia rubbed one thumb over the edge of the napkin.“I taught you to stay calm around angry people.”Emily’s throat tightened.“I thought that was a virtue.”Her mother gave a small, unhappy smile.“Maybe sometimes it is.”Then she looked down.“Sometimes it’s training.”Emily did not know what to say.Megan stared at her water glass.Thomas reached over and touched Patricia’s wrist.It was the first time Emily could remember seeing him comfort her mother without trying to make a joke.“I’m still worried you’re making decisions while upset,” Patricia said.Emily almost laughed.“There she is.”Patricia laughed too, reluctantly.“I said I was sorry, not transformed.”The tension broke just enough for everyone to breathe.After dinner, Thomas walked Emily to her car.He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.“You seeing Ryan?”“Not yet.”“You going to?”“Probably.”Thomas nodded.“You want me nearby?”Emily looked at him.“No.”“All right.”He kicked a pebble away from the tire.“I never liked the phone thing.”“What phone thing?”“Him knowing your passcode.”Emily stared.“You knew about that?”“You gave him your phone at the hospital when I cut my hand.”Thomas shrugged.“He read a message that came in.”Emily remembered.She had been getting coffee.Ryan had later told her Megan had complained about him in a text.Emily had been angry with Megan for weeks.“Why didn’t you say something?”Her father’s face tightened.“I figured it wasn’t my marriage.”Emily looked away.“So did everybody.”“I’m sorry.”The quietness of it kept her from answering sharply.Thomas opened her car door.As Emily got in, he said, “Not interfering and not noticing aren’t the same thing.”She looked up at him.He shut the door gently.The next morning, Emily accepted the nursing school seat.At noon, she texted Ryan.I’m ready to talk.He replied five minutes later.Where?Emily chose a coffee shop near the university, busy enough to feel safe and quiet enough for conversation.Saturday at two?Ryan answered:I’ll be there.Then, after a minute:Thank you.Emily stared at the message.Saturday was five days away.For once, Ryan did not try to make it sooner.
