For Our Son: A BWWM Parenting Romance For Adults (7 page)

"Don’t worry though," Morgan had been speaking during Grace’s
self-evaluation, "I’ll keep you from dating the losers of the world."

"Morgan," Grace began curtly, "You know I love you
right?"

"Of course."

"So, it’s with love that I tell you that you don’t have to rub it
in my face that the only guys who are interested in me are losers."

"Grace, that’s not what I’m saying. I just meant that—"

"Because I know that compared to you, I’m not exactly ‘Dating
Disneyland’, but it’s not like I have all that opportunity. I’m really busy
with school and…I’m just busy."

"Okay, I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say the dating
Disneyland thing. And Grace, you’re not that busy. You’re just stuck.”

"Stuck? I’m not stuck."

"Grace, you are." Morgan paused while she and Grace climbed in
the car. Once situated, Morgan turned to Grace. "You still have feelings
for Ryan."

"Yeah, feelings of hatred."

"Well, even still…don’t you think if you were over him you wouldn’t
love him or
hate
him?"

"What are you saying? I’m supposed to feel
nothing
when I
think about Ryan?"

"No…" Morgan eyeballed the ceiling of the car as she searched
for an illustration that would explain her position to Grace. "Take Dylan
and I for example. He put me through hell when we were together and I hated him
for a long time. But after I got over him, if I thought back on the times when
we were together, I could recollect the good times, too. Even now, I can think
about the bad times without a flash of anger. I can almost laugh at them."

"It doesn’t hurt at all?" Grace eyed Morgan for a sign of
contradiction.

"Not at all. I’ve moved on. And that’s exactly what you need to do.
It’s been a long time, Grace."

"I know, I know. And I thought I had moved on, but when I saw Ryan…when
I talked to him…he made me so mad."

"And anger isn’t the only feeling you had, is it?”

Grace sighed. "You’re right. I am stuck."

"Yeah, well Ryan
has a girlfriend. He’s gotten on with his life. Now it’s your turn." Morgan
started the car and headed for home, thus ending her evening of saving Grace
from herself.

Chapter eleven

Ryan’s mother’s words had been haunting him for days.
When things get
a little rough, you run.
Ryan tried to think of a situation that would
prove her wrong, but he couldn’t. When all was said and done, Ryan avoided
conflict like the plague. He didn’t like to face anything that required any
effort or change on his part. It was why he’d had several jobs, or like his
current job, several supervisors. His charisma had afforded him the luxury of
moving around.

Ryan stared at Sophia as she walked ahead of him into her house. Four
months ago he didn’t question his relationship with Sophia. They got along
fine. But he also kept her outside of the deep issues of his personal life.
There was a part of him that only his mother and one girl whom he’d loved in
high school knew about.

Now, with the situation with his son, Ryan had found Sophia more on the
inside of his intimate loop and he didn’t like that. But according to his mother,
that was Ryan’s nature. Whenever someone got too close, he was ready for
flight. In her opinion, if Ryan wanted to be happy, he was going to have to
change.

For that reason, and that reason only, Ryan lugged a box of his
belongings into Sophia’s apartment. He was moving in with her.

"This is going to be so much fun," Sophia gushed as she ran
her hands along Ryan’s waist. "It’ll be like a slumber party that never
ends!"

"I hope not. You know how I am if I don’t get any sleep.” Ryan
tried to conceal his doubt about the situation. He didn’t tell Sophia, but he
planned on maintaining the lease on his apartment for three months just in
case.

"Oh, I know, Mr. Grumpy, but don’t worry, I plan to take great care
of you." Sophia waltzed into the bedroom to make room in her closet for Ryan’s
clothes.

The fact that Sophia wanted this so badly also bothered Ryan. He knew
that it made her feel more confident in how he felt about her. He was happy
that she was happy, but the truth was, if someone told him that Sophia was the
last woman he’d ever be with…that wouldn’t make him very happy at all.

Ryan pushed the negative thoughts aside and tried to focus on the
present. However, when he walked around Sophia’s house, he realized that was
always going to be what it was:
her
house. There was nothing that even
remotely resembles him anywhere. The curtains in the living room were floral,
for Pete’s sake.
Floral!
It was going to be like living in a dollhouse.

"I feel like I’m moving in with my mom,” Ryan said to what he
thought was an empty room.

"What’s that supposed to mean? I decorate like an old lady?" Sophia
came up from behind him.

"No, that’s not what I’m saying. Everything’s just so girly, that's
all."

"That’s what it’s always like when a guy moves in with a woman,
silly. Decorating is a woman’s prerogative. Didn’t you know that?"

"Well does every room have to be decorated? Can’t we have something
without flowers and…what are those?"

"Sconces. And I paid a lot for them. They’re staying."

Ryan was convinced that, despite his objections, everything was staying.
He continued throughout the house, depositing boxes of his belongings. When he
got to the bedroom, he simply stood in the middle of the room and stared, much
like he had in the living room.

More flowers.

Ryan sighed and went into the walk-in closet to put away some boxes of
memorabilia he’d brought with him. As he was stacking the boxes on the top
shelf, one box slid down and came cascading down around him on the floor. He
scooped to pick up the mess he made. While putting the contents back inside the
box, he came across one of the few pictures of Matthew that he had. As he
looked at the young boy in the picture, for the first time, he saw his own
features in his face.

It was surreal.

"I thought you said you didn’t have any pictures of him." Sophia
had come to inspect what Ryan was doing. She looked over his shoulder to see
what he was looking at.

"I said I don’t have
many
pictures of him." Ryan
quickly put the photo back inside the box and put the rest of the contents in
the box on top of it.

"Oh." Sophia seemed disinterested by the entire topic.
"Well, I just came in here to tell you my brilliant idea."

"Which is?" Ryan turned to look at her.

"I think we should christen every room in the house…wha’dya
say?"

Ryan pondered the thought. Though he wasn’t in the mood, he was sure he
might appreciate it some other time.

"Something to look forward to,” he held her off. "But we’d
better concentrate on getting me moved in for now." Ryan stood up and
walked out, ignoring the confused look on Sophia’s face.

Sophia looked at the boxes that were staring at her from the top shelf.
Even though they were simple inanimate objects, they irritated her. Or rather,
their contents irritated her. It was like Ryan had a whole other life, and when
that life collided with this one nothing good ever came of it.

Sophia hated how somber and moody Ryan became anytime something about
his ex or that
baby
came up. Sophia hoped that the contents of those
boxes remained tucked away and out of their lives. She closed the door of the
closet and left the room.

The phone rang. Sophia stopped to see if Ryan would pick it up. When it
went on to the third ring, she went to the hall phone and answered it.

"Hi. I was calling for Ryan Stewart. When I called his home number
a recording referred me here,” said the voice on the other line.

Sophia was happy to hear that Ryan had already forwarded his home phone
service. She called out for him to pick up the phone, but there was no answer
on his part. Sophia looked out the window and saw that he was outside at his
truck getting more boxes to bring in.

"He can’t come to the phone right now. May I take a message?" Sophia
asked politely.

"Yes. Can you tell him I’m calling on the behalf of the adoptive
parents from the Family Services Department. They’ve found a donor and they’d
like Mr. Stewart to be present for the transplant surgery. I have a date and
location for the surgery. Do you have a pen and paper?"

"Uh-huh."

The representative from Family Services rattled off the information. Sophia
pretended to write it down.

"Okay. Got it,” she said.

Sophia ended her phone call just as Ryan was coming into the house.

"Who was on the phone?" he asked.

"Wrong number,” Sophia answered him.

"I forgot to tell you that I forwarded my phone calls here. So you
might get a few people who think they’ve called the wrong number for
awhile."

"No problem.
I’m just so happy you’re here!" Sophia squealed as she wrapped her arms
around Ryan and gave him a kiss. The kiss was so passionate he couldn’t help
but kiss her back.

Chapter twelve

Grace pulled up in her parent’s driveway with a few boxes in the trunk
of her car. The term had ended at school and she had to move out of her student
apartment until the next semester. Actually, she and Morgan had talked about
getting another apartment together, but Grace decided she’d discuss that with
her parents later. There were bigger issues to discuss this weekend.

The adoptive parents had phoned. They had found a donor. At first Grace
was relieved, but then an entirely new set of worries began to plague her. What
if there were complications in surgery? What if Matthew’s body rejected the
transplant? If Grace allowed her mind to go all the places it threatened to,
she’d make herself sick.

Grace’s mother had suggested she talk about what she was afraid of, just
so she didn’t keep things all bottled up. But after awhile, talking just fell
flat. No one she was speaking to could fully understand what she was feeling.
There was only one other person on the planet who was in the same exact
situation as she was…only he didn’t give a damn.

When Grace had inquired as to whether or not Ryan would be present for
the surgery, she’d been informed that Ryan hadn’t returned any of the agency’s
phone calls. The letters they’d sent him went unanswered as well. Grace wasn’t
sure if that news surprised her, but it did disappoint her greatly.

Hercules, the golden retriever puppy that Grace’s parents had recently
purchased, scratched at the front door.

"It’s potty time," Mrs. Thompson said as she hurried into the
room carrying a leash. "I usually take him for a walk in the morning, but
Gladys called me. She sure can talk."

"I’ll take him, Mom." Grace offered. It would be nice to take
a stroll around the neighborhood of her youth. And a dog didn’t expect much
conversation, something she wasn’t really up for at the present moment.

Mrs. Thompson was more than willing to relinquish the reigns to her
daughter. She held out the leash and Grace took it. She clipped the end to Hercules’
collar and the two were quickly off for an afternoon walk.

Summer was quickly approaching and the temperatures were rising. Grace
lifted her long hair off the back of her neck for a quick moment of coolness. Hercules,
for a small dog, walked very rapidly and Grace’s heart-rate was beginning to
elevate. She didn’t discourage him, though. She liked the exercise.