Minor Adjustments (10 page)

As promised, Emily and Cora, Devon’s two perky sisters, arrived the next evening for dinner. They both lived about an hour away and usually only came for Sunday dinner, but that week they’d made an exception.

Devon and Ryan were out back grilling steaks when Emily’s voice echoed through the house. “H-e-l-l-o! We’re here!” she called. “Where’s that big brother of mine and my new little nephew? Come on, show yourselves people! My kids have been dying to meet their new cuz!”

Ron, Emily’s husband, mumbled something about hearing loss.

Pretending he hadn’t heard, Devon ruffled Ryan’s hair. “I think it’s time to turn the steaks. Ready?”

Dressed in a child-sized Home Depot apron, Ryan looked like a miniature Bobby Flay. He held up a spatula that was almost as tall as him. Devon grinned and picked him up, helping to turn the steaks.

“There you are!” Emily had found them. “Guys, they’re out back!”

Ryan gripped Devon’s neck when Emily threw her arms around them. “So good to see you! We’ve been so excited to meet you, Ryan!”

“How’ve ya been, sis?” Devon said.

Three small children ran out, then stopped to stare at Devon and Ryan. They looked so much older to Devon than they had at Christmas.

“Hey guys, come and meet Ryan,” Devon said.

They stood rooted to the stairs, saying nothing.

“Where’s Grandma?” one of them finally said, taking a step back toward the house.

“She and Grandpa ran to the store for a few things. They should be back soon.”

Emily shook her head at Devon. “They’re still afraid of you, you know. If you would’ve at least tried to talk to them at Christmas, they would probably like you.”

Devon frowned at the kids. “You guys don’t like me?”

They shook their heads and ran back inside, tripping over the threshold in their rush.

“Why don’t they like me?” he asked Emily. “I wasn’t mean to them.”

“You didn’t play or talk to them either. To them, you are a big, scary man who stares.”

What? Devon was not. Leave it to Emily to be so dramatic. He lowered Ryan to the ground. “What do you think, Ryan? Am I a big, scary man?”

“No.” He giggled. “You’re a big, scary meat pie!”

“Meat pie?” Devon said. “I’ll show you who’s a meat pie!”

Ryan squealed and ran, but Devon was quicker. He grabbed the little boy, hoisted him over his shoulders, and ran in circles around the backyard. Then he somersaulted Ryan down to the ground and chased him again.

One by one, Emily’s children crept through the patio door and watched. When the oldest tentatively stepped into the yard, Devon chased him too. The other two soon followed, and Devon allowed them to tackle him to the ground.

“Emily, help!” Devon said.

But no help came. In fact, the opposite happened. Two more squealing girls ran into the yard and jumped on him. Cora’s family had arrived. Devon wrestled, tickled, and chased all of the children until he couldn’t anymore. Out of breath, he searched for some sort of help; at the very least, something to distract the kids. But Emily, Cora, Ron, and Jeff only stared from the sidelines, open-mouthed.

“Who are you, and what have you done with our brother?” Emily called.

Devon pointed toward the house and yelled, “Oh look, I think I hear Grandma and Grandpa inside. I bet they have treats.” The kids all ran for the house. Even Ryan. Whew. It worked.

Ron slapped his shoulder. “Good to see you, man.”

Devon nodded, trying to catch his breath. “I thought I’d show your kids I’m not so scary, after all. Please tell me Mom and Dad are back.”

“You’re in luck,” Jeff said. “They came in with us.”

“I hope they have treats.”

“They always have treats.” Cora gave Devon a hug. “I wish I would have caught that on camera. I’m still in shock.”

Pointing to the smoking barbeque, Ron said, “Uh, you may want to check on those.”

Crap. Devon darted toward the grill and lifted the lid, cringing at the charred meat.

“Yeah, that’s how Dad cooks them too,” Ron said, looking over his shoulder.

Jeff clapped Devon on the back. “Don’t worry. I think I’ve pretty much decided to become a vegetarian anyway. At least on the days we eat here.”

Ron laughed. “Yeah, me too.”

Later, when they gathered around to eat, Devon tied the apron back on Ryan and lifted him to his shoulders. “I want all of you to know that chef Ryan here helped man the grill. And since he’s new to the family, I’m sure you’d all love to show your appreciation by eating the steaks.”

Ron and Jeff glared from across the table.

After dinner the kids ran off to play, leaving the adults to clean up. As Devon wiped down the table, he realized that for the first time in a long while, he felt as though he fit in—like he belonged again. It’s not that his siblings had ever intentionally excluded him, but there were only so many conversations about potty-training, sleep-deprivation, or school assignments he could tolerate before excusing himself to find something more interesting to do.

But now things were different. Now Devon could relate to some of their tales of parenting and he even contributed once or twice. It was nice, and he had Ryan to thank for it. Somehow, the boy had helped Devon to span a gap that he couldn’t on his own.

Well, almost span.

Ron hugged Emily from behind while she rinsed dishes, and Jeff playfully snapped a dishrag at Cora.

Suddenly Devon missed Stella.

⇐ ⇑ ⇒

Stella smiled when her Skype account rang. One o’clock—right on time.

Since that first night, Devon had called almost every night before Ryan’s bedtime. The call coincided with her lunch break, so Stella was able to close her office door and enjoy a nice little chat with her two favorite guys.

Today, however, there was only one set of brown eyes watching her. “Where’s Ryan?” she asked.

“In bed. He had a busy day and was . . . well, let’s just say that cranky is putting it nicely.”

“Were there any fish involved?” Stella teased.

“No, and please don’t mention fish around him. I know I promised to buy him some more once we got here, but he hasn’t asked about it yet, and I’m hoping he’ll forget.”

Stella laughed. A lone blue Betta swam in a fishbowl on her bookcase next to a few goldfish in another bowl—a good-bye gift from Ryan. Stella had promised to take good care of his pets, but so far, five goldfish had died. At least the Betta still seemed to be healthy. “Two goldfish were dead when I got to the office this morning,” Stella admitted. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“They miss Ryan.”

“They must. Maybe I should frame a picture of him and put it on the table next to them. Do you think that would work?”

“Would you want it to?”

Stella shook her head. “Probably not. I don’t mind the Betta, but the goldfish are boring and pretty disgusting when they’re floating on top of the water. If they didn’t remind me of Ryan, I’d have dumped them down the loo days ago.”

“So the truth comes out. You’re not all heart after all.”

“Not where fish are concerned.”

Devon chuckled and then cleared his throat. “Um, there’s a reason I called without Ryan tonight. I need to talk to you.”

“What about?” When he didn’t answer right away, Stella’s heart thumped a little faster. Was something going on with Ryan? Was he okay?

“I’ve decided to take Ryan with me to Chicago.”

Stella blinked. “Why? Who will take care of him while you’re at work?”

“Beth.”

Beth. That name again. The way Devon looked away from her made it sound ominous. Like he was preparing her for something bad, something Stella wouldn’t want to hear. Then don’t say it.

“She’s a girl I used to date . . . uh, used to be engaged to.”

Engaged? Devon had been engaged? When? Stella stifled the urge to slam her laptop shut. Normally, the poor resolution of the webcam bothered her, but today she was grateful for it. Maybe he wouldn’t see that her smile was fake.

“Used to be engaged to?” she asked. “How long ago?”

“Eight months,” Devon said. “Beth broke off the engagement, and I haven’t heard from her until a few days ago. She wants to give our relationship another try.”

If there was a proper response to this, Stella didn’t know what it was. Congratulations? Yippee? Golly-wolly? All of them sounded absurd, not to mention phony. So Stella did the only thing she could do. She nodded and tried to look interested. Glad even. Which was exactly what she should be. Happy. Happy for him and happy for Ryan. Maybe Beth was exactly what they needed.

If only it didn’t hurt so much.

“She wants to date again and see where it goes from there.”

“Oh.” Why was he telling her all of this? Devon couldn’t possibly know how much she cared or he wouldn’t say such things—at least not until she had time to mend, to move on.

“Stella?”

“Yeah?” She fought for a calm, collected composure.

“I don’t know. I guess there’s not much more to say. Now that Ryan’s a part of my life, Beth wants me to bring him to Chicago so she can meet and spend time with him. I just thought you should know.”

Ryan. Beth wanted to meet Ryan. Get to know him. Why? Who was this girl who thought she could waltz back into Devon’s life and expect to be part of Ryan’s? And why was Devon okay with it?

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to introduce Ryan to her now? Before you know if it will work out?”

“No,” Devon admitted. “But I already know Beth and I know what we’re like together. What I don’t know is if Ryan will change that. I mean, how can I know if Beth’s still a good fit for me if Ryan’s not around? Does that make sense?”

In a depressing way, it did. “Why did she break up with you if she still had feelings for you?”

Devon sighed. “After we got engaged, Beth invited me to spend the weekend with her family. While we were there, I spent a lot of time on the phone trying to deal with some problems that had come up at work. And when I wasn’t on the phone, I was distracted, thinking up solutions. Her family is big. With the noise and chaos, we both got a little testy and argued.

“After we got back to Chicago, we planned to go out to dinner and sort things out, but an emergency came up at work and I had to cancel. That night, she stopped by the office, gave me the ring back, and told me she was sorry but it wouldn’t work out. She needed to marry someone who valued her more than a job. Someone who would be around, who liked kids, and who would one day make a good father. She said that wasn’t me.” Devon paused. “And she was right.”

“No. She just didn’t know any better. You’ve already proven her wrong.”

“Thanks, but I’ve changed a little since then. And to be honest, I did think her nieces and nephews were really annoying.”

Stella laughed. “Maybe they’ll grow on you in time.”

“Yeah.”

“Doesn’t she have a job? How can she watch Ryan for two weeks?”

“She works for her uncle and can pretty much get time off whenever she wants.”

“Oh.” Stella connected and disconnected two paperclips, wishing things were different. That she could be the one to watch Ryan. That she could be the one who Devon wanted to—
Stella, stop!
“Well, I hope things work out for the best. Have a safe trip and keep in touch, all right?”

“I promise.”

And he would. Stella knew that much. What she didn’t know was if she really wanted him to anymore. If only she didn’t care so much about Ryan. If only she hadn’t promised Lindsay she’d remain a part of his life.

Stella powered off the computer and walked to the window. People passed by on the sidewalk below, headed somewhere. Were they going out with friends? Home to a wife or a family? Or were they on their own, like her, walking toward a destination, but aimless just the same?

Stella needed to get away. Away from the office and away from her flat. She needed a distraction—somewhere that would remind her that being single and unattached had its perks.

But where?

“Hey, girl.” Tess walked into her office and sat on the green upholstered chair. “You look about as cheerful as I feel.”

“Bad day?” Stella asked.

“It started off well, until Jeremy called and said he can’t make it to the U2 concert with me tonight,” Tess said. “We’ve had the tickets for months, and I’m not about to stay home because my fiancé can’t go. You interested?”

A slow smile replaced Stella’s frown. “Definitely. Your timing couldn’t be better.”

Devon kept a firm grip on Ryan’s hand as they walked through the Chicago airport. The gray, filthy snow piled high on the side of the road was an unwelcome reminder of the cold that would be waiting for them outside. He should have bought a warmer coat for Ryan.

A group of people passed by, revealing a tall, elegant girl with long, shiny black hair. Beth. With her clear blue eyes, she looked as beautiful and exotic as ever. Her high-heeled boots beat a staccato rhythm against the checkerboard marble floors. “Hello, Devon.”

“Hey.”

She threw her arms around him, and Devon resisted the urge to breathe in her perfume—a light scent she knew he loved. Eight months was a long time, especially after all that had happened between them. Devon half-heartedly returned her hug with his one free arm and then pulled away. “Beth, this is Ryan.”

Beth smiled and crouched down to Ryan’s level. “Hi Ryan. It’s great to finally meet you. I’m so excited to spend time with you.”

Ryan watched her in silence, neither smiling nor frowning. He looked more bored than anything. The poor kid was worn out and probably sick of meeting new people.

They followed Beth to her car, and she drove them to a nearby restaurant for dinner. An elegant and expensive French restaurant.

“Uh, Beth, I’m not sure Ryan will like this place,” Devon said.

With a smile, she said, “Give me some credit, will you? They have a kids menu with American food like hamburgers and chicken nuggets. Besides,” she said, reaching for Devon’s hand, “you love French food.”

“But Ryan doesn’t, and he’s not American.”

Beth looked over her shoulder and flashed Ryan a brilliant smile. “Hey, you like chicken nuggets, don’t you?”

Ryan shook his head.

She tried again. “Have you ever eaten a chicken nugget?”

Another shake.

“Well, how do you know you don’t like them if you haven’t tried them?”

“I don’t like them.” Ryan looked at Devon. “Can we have custard?”

Before Devon could answer, Beth said, “Sure—for dessert. We can get some frozen custard on our way back to Devon’s, okay?”

Ryan frowned. “I don’t want custard that’s freezing. I’m cold.”

Right then, Devon wanted to pick up Ryan and take him back to Australia. A place Ryan knew. A place he was familiar with. A place he called home. It wasn’t fair that a small, four-year-old boy should have to go through so much change in such a short amount of time.

He threw Ryan an apologetic look. “Sorry, bud, but they don’t have custard in America. They only have something called pudding, which is sort of like custard, but not as good.”

Ryan’s lips quivered, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “I don’t want chicken. I want custard.”

Devon thought fast. “What about noodles? Like the kind Grandma Lydia made you?”

“The long snake kind I can slurp?”

“The very same.”

The dimple didn’t appear, but at least Ryan offered a solemn nod. One potential disaster averted.

Beth didn’t say anything until she had reversed the car and pulled from the parking lot. In a quiet but firm voice, she said, “You shouldn’t give in to Ryan when he acts that way. You basically just taught him that he’ll get what he wants whenever he whines.”

“Beth, we’ve been up since six o’clock this morning. Our connecting flight was delayed, and it’s been a long day. Ryan’s in yet another new place, meeting another new person, and he’s tired. So am I.”

Her expression softened and she smiled. “Does that mean you’re going to throw a tantrum too?”

“I just might if there’s a long wait.”

Beth laughed. “That I’d love to see.”

They stopped at the first Italian restaurant they found, and thankfully didn’t have to wait long to be seated. When the waiter brought menus, Devon hoped Beth would make up her mind quickly. Before, she’d always taken forever to decide, and Ryan wasn’t in a patient mood that night.

That hope died a tortuous death when the waiter came back the fourth time. By then, Ryan had shaken salt all over the table, spilled his water, and crawled under the table, nearly taking the tablecloth with him. Instead of concentrating on the menu, Beth had made comments such as, “Ryan, let’s not play with the salt and pepper okay?” and “Ryan, don’t climb under the table. It’s not polite.” and “Uh-oh! If you would sit still your water wouldn’t have spilled.”

Devon wanted to shout, “Will you just order already?” Didn’t she realize that Ryan would behave better with a plate of food to eat? Where was the waiter with their bread, anyway?

“Beth, why don’t you let me handle Ryan while you decide what you want?”
Please, please just order something.

Beth gave him a frustrated look before returning to the menu. When the waiter came a fifth time, she asked him for a recommendation.

“I guess I’ll try that, thanks,” she said.

Finally.

“I’m hungry,” Ryan said. “When can we eat?”

“Soon, honey,” Beth said. “They’re making it right now.”

Where were the crayons and paper placemat when Devon needed them? And where was that bread? Couldn’t the waiter tell Ryan was bored and hungry?

“Here you go,” the waiter said, setting a bowl of hot breadsticks on their table. “Sorry it took so long, but they’re fresh from the oven.”

Devon wanted to hug the guy. “Thanks.”

Ryan reached across the table and grabbed two breadsticks, one in each hand.

“No, sweetie, just take one at a time.” Beth’s voice brought goose bumps to Devon’s arms. But not the good kind. The kind that came from fingernails on a chalkboard. Why couldn’t she try to get to know Ryan instead of continually pointing out his faults?

Ryan is acting more troublesome than usual,
he tried to tell himself. But it didn’t help. If Devon hadn’t already asked Beth to go to a different restaurant, he would have had the waiter box up their order.

But the food finally came, and things went better after that. Thank goodness.

As they walked out of the restaurant, Beth said, “I thought it would be fun to see a movie.”

Ryan wrapped his little arms around Devon’s leg. “I want to go home.”

“Beth, if it’s okay with you, I think I’m going to take Ryan home and put him to bed. We’re both pretty tired.”

Beth nodded and drove them to Devon’s apartment complex. Instead of dropping them off at the front entrance, Beth parked in the visitor parking.

“Are you coming up?” Devon asked.

“If it’s okay. I know you’re going to be working late during the next two weeks, so I should probably familiarize myself with Ryan’s bedtime routine.”

She had a point. Although now Devon was worried about how Beth and Ryan would get along. Would she be kind and fun? Patient? Or would Beth constantly tell Ryan not to do that, not to do this, not to have fun. No.

The word slammed into Devon, leaving a sick feeling in his gut. Lindsay had loathed that word and all it implied, and yet here Devon was, handing Ryan over to someone who had no problem saying it. What had he been thinking?

Devon held Ryan’s hand as the elevator glided upward. After Ryan went to bed, he would talk to Beth. Let her know that Ryan was special and wonderful. That Ryan had been through a lot and what he really needed right now was a healthy dose of love. Maybe then Beth would understand and not be so critical.

Maybe.

If only Stella were here. Devon missed her. He missed the girl who adored Ryan and who believed he could make a good parent. The girl he could leave Ryan with and not worry because she loved him like her own.

Beth didn’t.

Not yet anyway.

Devon sighed as the elevator arrived at his apartment. He needed to give Beth a chance—for both Ryan and himself.