Derailed Page 5

“Does your house have a pool?”

  “As a matter of fact it does.”

  “I want to go to your house and swim.”

  “You can’t get your cast wet so that’s going to have to wait.”

  “Okay, but when the cast comes off I want to go swim.”

  “You got it.”

  Pulling into Fiona’s driveway Everett said, “Why don’t I go get the prescription filled and pick up anything else you may need to take care of him?”

  Fiona contemplated his proposal. “Actually that would be quite helpful.”

  “Can we get hot dogs and macaroni and cheese? And Dr Pepper?”

  Fiona regarded Everett with wide eyes. “I think he’s going to be a difficult patient.”

  “Are those items acceptable?”

  “Yeah,” she smiled.

  “Do you need anything?”

  “I’d love a bag of chocolate truffles. It’s been a long day.”

  “Don’t do anything fun until I get back.”

  ***

  Fiona and Ryder walked through the yard. A few rogue weeds popped up here and there reminding Fiona to pull weeds and spread turf builder. She hated working in the yard because she hated bugs, and Louisiana had some big ones. The last time she planted in the garden she’d come across a snake and screamed so loudly a neighbor came rushing over. Fiona had watched as Mrs. Reed killed the snake with a shovel. She’d said it was a copperhead snake and extremely poisonous. Fiona shuddered at the thought. She thought Ryder should hang around Mrs. Reed a little more so that he would learn how to kill pesky snakes for the woman in his life. Fiona surely wouldn’t be able to teach him.

  It was after seven. On Saturday night they always downloaded the ninety-nine-cent movie of the week and watched it together—no matter how bad or independent, they’d eat junk and veg out together on the couch.

  “Are we going to watch the movie?” Ryder asked with large, clear blue eyes.

  “Do you feel up to it?”

  He shrugged. “I’d like to cook dinner and I’d like Everett to help me.”

  “You like him?”

  “Don’t you?” He asked.

  “He’s nice.”

  “Is he going to be your boyfriend?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t like men?”

  Fiona frowned. Did he think she wasn’t into men? “You mean do I like women instead?”

  Now Ryder frowned in confusion. “I meant you don’t think men are good to have around. They’re bad and dumb?”

  “Oh Ryder, I value men. I just haven’t dated a man because I don’t want anyone to come between us.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry?” She squatted before him in the entry and took his un-casted hand in hers.

  “Because of me you don’t get a husband.”

  “Ryder, that’s not true. I could if I wanted to, but I’d rather focus on you. On us.”

  “What if Everett were your husband?”

  “Everett is very nice, but he has a job in Boston that he worked very hard for.”

  “Like where the tea from England was dumped into the harbor?”

  She smiled at her little history buff, “That’s the place.”

  “I thought he worked in Baton Rouge.”

  “That’s only temporary. His home is in Boston.”

  “That’s a long way away.”

  “It is. So you see, we can’t go getting attached to Everett because one day he’s going to have to go back to his big job in Boston.”

  Ryder nodded his contentment—for now. It would be only a matter of time before he started up again about Everett. Especially the longer he remained near.

  “Let me help you get into your pajamas.”

  Fiona sat on her knees on the floor of his room and they worked together to accomplish the precarious task of changing Ryder’s clothes with a casted arm.

  “Do you think Everett will play Scene It?”

  “Hmm”—Fiona thought through her answer as she buttoned his Flash superhero pajamas. Was Everett going to be staying that long? “I’m not sure Everett is well versed in Marvel comics or Harry Potter.”

  “Too bad we don’t have regular Scene It.”

  “Plus, he’ll have to leave after dinner.”

  “Can he stay over?”

  “He’s not one of your buddies, Ryder. He’s a grown man.”

  “I meant with you. He could stay over with you.”

  Fiona smiled and hopelessly shook her head. “Are you always going to be my little matchmaker?” She kissed his head. So happy to have him home safe. “I was so scared when Mr. Roy called me. I was afraid …” Fiona began to cry. Ryder’s arm hugged her neck as he kissed her tear-stained cheek.

  “I’m sorry, Mommy. I didn’t want to make you cry.”

  “I know, baby. It was an accident.”

  Just then the doorbell rang, clear and crisp.

  “Everett’s back!” Ryder yelled and ran from his room, leaving Fiona on the floor. She worried that he was already developing an attachment to Everett—the man who was teased by his brothers for hating all things Louisiana. Fiona felt like a gambling woman who’d just made a bad bet. At the first sign of something difficult, Everett would run back to Boston. The history was there to prove it. And she’d be left with a broken ten-year-old heart, not to mention her own. Sighing as she stood, she resolved Everett would need to leave after dinner.

  As she turned off the light, Ryder came running back into his room.

  “He knows Marvel!” Using a stool, he precariously retrieved the interactive Marvel trivia game Fiona had given him for Christmas. She watched for the second time as he ran from the room, excited and full of hope, clutching the game box beneath his good arm.

  She walked to meet the duo in the living room.

  “And usually on Saturday night we watch the ninety-nine-cent movie. Mostly they’re bad, but sometimes they’re good.” Ryder spoke as he used the remote. “This week’s movie is about”—he frowned. “I don’t know what it’s about, but I don’t think it looks very good.”

  Fiona was familiar with the plot of Well Hung. It was about a guy who proposed to his girlfriend at a Giants game and she turned him down, stating he was just too small. Fiona supposed he had it coming since he’d proposed at a hugely public venue and then demanded to know why she wouldn’t marry him. Still, the poor guy had been humiliated on a global scale.

  Everett turned and smiled when Fiona walked toward them. “I put the groceries in the kitchen.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Come on Everett, we’re going to cook.” Ryder pulled him by the hand. “Mom, you have to stay out while me and Everett cook.”

  “What am I supposed to do while you cook?”

  “You can sit at the bar and watch. Oh, maybe Everett can make you a drink.” Fiona giggled as Ryder turned toward Everett. “Everett, do you know how to make drinks?”

  “I may know a little something.”

  “We have the glasses.” Ryder pointed to the cabinet that was out of his reach. “Mom likes to drink wine, but I think it tastes gross.”

  “I agree, really gross.” Everett’s nose was pinched as if he’d tasted something bad. “Fiona, would you like a glass of wine?”

  “There may be a little of that Riesling left … “ Fiona caught herself before she finished the sentence. Her son never missed anything. If she were to reference the wine Everett had brought over, he’d start asking questions.

  “I bought a bottle of zinfandel at the store.” He winked at her.

  “In that case, I’d love a glass.”

  She sipped wine while she watched them make box macaroni and cheese.

  “Sometimes Mom makes macaroni a la fantastic.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You have to cut up the hot dogs and stir them in.”

  “Sounds perfect. Let’s do it.” Everett sliced open a package of hot dogs and performed the task while
Ryder gave directions. “We have to scoop Mom a bowl before we add the meat.”

  “There you go.”

  “Hey, I like your watch.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You smell good too.”

  “I wish I could take credit, but that smell is all Hugo Boss.”

  “I wear deodorant to keep me from stinking.”

  “That’s good thinking.”

  “Do you have to shave your face?”

  “I do.”

  “With a razor?”

  “Yep.”

  “I think I should start shaving.”

  Everett leaned in to inspect Ryder’s smooth skin. “Hmm, maybe give it another year, kiddo.” He tapped Ryder’s nose with his fingertip.

  As Fiona watched her son with Everett she was reminded again that there were some conversations better left man-to-man. She wondered how she would go about teaching Ryder to shave and groom his hair. Maybe a barber could help establish a grooming routine.

  They sat at the table and Fiona watched her son struggle to eat with his left hand. When he spilled his milk he started to get upset.

  “It’s okay, Ryder,” Fiona said, but he still wiped at his eyes.

  Everett cleared his throat. “You know the old saying … you can’t cry because you spilled your milk. It’s bad luck. No harm done, and the cat appears very happy.”

  Fiona ducked to look under the table where Mr. Whiskers was licking the floor beneath the dripping milk. “He doesn’t ever come out of Ryder’s room.”

  “Must have sensed you needed him.” Everett held the cup in the air. “How about a refill?”

  “Okay,” Ryder replied, stuffily.

  While Everett went for the milk, Fiona wiped the table.

  “We got rocky road ice cream for dessert.” Ryder smiled as he recalled the purchase.

  “Mmm, that’s your favorite.”

  After dinner they moved to the living room. Fiona had thought it was past time for Everett to be leaving, but Ryder’s pleading eyes had them both acquiescing and now Fiona watched from the couch, sucking on chocolate as Ryder challenged Everett in a game of interactive movie trivia. They sat on the floor in front of the television, Everett operating the remote. She thought it looked a little funny to have him sitting on the floor in his fancy clothes. He’d removed his Italian shoes, looking quite at home on Fiona’s living room floor.

  Everett proved a worthy opponent, but Ryder still won. Although the margin had been close and it left Fiona wondering if he’d let Ryder win. Settled into his large floor pillow, watching late-night stand up comedy, Fiona knew Ryder would be asleep within minutes.

  Everett stood.

  “When can I see your house?” Ryder asked.

  “Tell you what … I’ll talk with your mom about it, okay?”

  Ryder nodded, “Will you be here when I wake up?”

  Everett’s brow furrowed, “I don’t think—”

  “On Sunday mornings Mom makes chocolate chip pancakes. You don’t want to miss it. Please stay.” Ryder’s eyes closed.

  Everett stared at Ryder for a few moments and then transferred his gaze to Fiona. She didn’t know what to do. “Ryder, It’s getting late. Everett has to go home to his own family.”

  Without opening his eyes or moving from his spot on the pillow he said, “Just stay one night and have the pancakes. Please, it would make me feel better.”

  Oh God, her son was begging. She felt guilty for the absence of a male in his life. What if Everett didn’t want to stay? He could leave and Fiona would take Ryder to her bed for the night. Everett took the cushion beside Fiona on the couch.

  “Is it okay if I stay, Fiona?”

  “Yeah, I think it should be okay.” Fiona was dumbfounded. How the hell should she know if it would be okay? What wouldn’t be okay is if her son formed a deep attachment to Everett and then one day he wasn’t there—that would be far from okay.

  Fiona squatted next to Ryder’s pillow. “Hey, you better get into bed.” There was no reaction. After the events of the day, Ryder was sound asleep.

  “Don’t wake him. I can carry him to his room.” Everett bent and gingerly scooped Ryder into his arms, something Fiona hadn’t been able to do for quite some time, given his size.

  Fiona led the way back to Ryder’s room, turning on the lamp to give light. He placed Ryder beneath the sheets with the same delicate care as when he’d lifted him into his arms. Tucking the sheets around him, he was careful to place the casted arm across his chest. And then he bent and kissed Ryder on the cheek. “It’s not a proper tuck-in without a kiss.”

  Fiona quite agreed and so she bent to kiss Ryder’s forehead. In the hallway Everett asked, “Where would you like me to sleep? I’m perfectly comfortable taking the couch.”

  “If you’re staying here tonight you’ll sleep in my bed with me.”

  “I won’t argue with that.”

  ***

  In her bedroom, sitting on her stonewashed Belgian linen bedding Everett asked, “Do you not want me to stay?”

  “I’m sorry, Everett. I know I haven’t been saying much, but the truth is I really don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “You honestly have to ask why? You can’t see how much Ryder has already begun clinging to you? I haven’t brought a man around him for that very reason. It’s actually much worse than I thought.”

  Her voice cracked. Everett hoped she wasn’t on the verge of tears, but that hope became incinerated when the drops began to fall.

  He pulled her to sit next to him on the bed and held her hands in his. “I’m not sure your plan worked out so well.”

  “What?” Incredulous, she looked at him, her large blue eyes blinking.

  “I’m just saying, he may be exceptionally curious about men since he hasn’t been around many, and that’s why he’s clinging so tightly to me.”

  She stood and placed her hands on her hips, bending toward him at the waist. “So you’re saying I’m not doing a good job, raising him without a male figure in his life?”

  Shit. He shouldn’t have said anything. Her eyes and lips were tight—she’d become defensive and angry.

  “I think you’re a great mother. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

  She stared at him, contemplating. “You think I’m a great mother, but that’s not enough.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You implied it.”

  “I did not.”

  “On second thought, I think you should leave.” She pointed toward the door.

  Fuck. His life would be so much easier if he didn’t like this little doll of a woman—but he did. Even when she was angry she was inspiring. She did nothing halfway—her chest heaved and her face had become red as she tapped her foot and pursed her mouth at him. She was so tiny and yet she protected what she loved with fierce vengeance, using all she had at her disposal.

  “I think there’s a possibility we may be able to salvage the evening—”

  “No. You should go. I should have asked you to leave after dinner. This was a huge mistake.”

  Everett sighed as he stood. He didn’t know what to say to her. The last time he’d spoken his true feelings he’d unwittingly hurt her. He walked to the door of the bedroom. Looking back he said, “I believe I was sorely misunderstood. I think Ryder is a wonderful child—your nurturing has everything to do with that. I can’t say I’m not a little hurt that you wished me gone at dinner, because I had a great time spending the evening with you and Ryder.”

  Everett drove home feeling reluctant, given little Ryder’s pleas that he should stay. However, when he’d seen the fury in Fiona’s eyes he knew he was not going to be a welcomed guest in her bed or her home.

  Maybe it was ignorant to imagine any kind of a future with Fiona and Ryder since he was currently living in limbo—a fact she’d mentioned more than once to Ryder. His Boston address seemed to not sit well with her. It was as if she thought he’d not t
ake a commitment seriously. But he would, and he wanted to. If she’d let him he’d be the most committed guy on the planet. He’d be Ward Cleaver on steroids.

  As he pulled up to the front of the house his phone began to ring. Caller ID told him it was Ashton.

  “This is Everett.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “In person.”

  “It’s almost eleven.”

  “And you’re afraid you’ll lose beauty sleep?”

  “Can’t it wait until morning?”

  “What’s the perk of having a lawyer on retainer if I can’t speak with you whenever I wish?”

  “You really are an ass.”

  “I’m waiting.”

  The line went dead. Everett was beginning to loathe Louisiana and everything in it—especially Ashton David. One thing was certain, he wouldn’t be taking the BMW. He went in search of his sister and found her in the family room. The television was tuned to a reality show that Everett couldn’t tolerate even when he’d been drinking. He turned it off. Still in her fancy royal blue suit, Courtney had fallen asleep on the couch.

  “Hey Court.”

  “Mmm, Sawyer.”

  “Sawyer?”

  “Oh, yeah, just like that Sawyer.”

  Oh, shit! “Courtney.”

  “Sawyer.” Her mouth was curled into a satisfied smile.

  Everett leaned forward and gave her shoulder a shake. “Wake up.” She sat up board straight.

  “Goddammit, Everett. How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough to know you were having a wet dream about Sawyer.”

  “You’re such a creep!”

  “I’m a creep? Who the hell is Sawyer?”

  “Just forget it.”

  “I wish I could.”

  She stood and grabbed her large bag. “I need to go over to Ashton’s and you mentioned another means of transpo.”

  “The mule.”

  “Yeah, where is that?”

  “In the garage next to the golf cart.”

  She gathered her overly-large bag and left the room. Sawyer. Was she already dating again? Good for her.

  On his way out to the garage he spotted his mother and an attractive woman sitting on the porch that overlooked the swimming pool. They were laughing at something. As late as it was he was curious, so he walked toward them.