Hard As Rock (25 page)

“Nice to talk to you, too.”

“Yeah, hi. Mom said you were bringing home some guy named Ryan.”

“Yeah.”

“That wouldn’t be Ryan Smith of Bigger, would it?”

I sighed. “…yes.”

“Holy SHIT, we’re gonna have a rock star sleeping in our house?! Oh my God, this is awesome – Rob’s totally freaking out – ”

Rob’s my baby brother, now 17. I could hear him hooting and hollering in the background.

“Do NOT bother him, okay?”

“We’ll be cool, jeez. We can get some pictures with him, though, right?”

I wanted to say ‘no,’ but I knew Ryan would jump right in and offer anyway, so I just said, “We’ll see.”

“Uh… Kaitlyn?”

“What?”

“I was reading a bunch of stuff about the band online, and I saw a bunch of pictures…”

Oh shit. Here it came.

“…yeah?”

“…weren’t you kind of dating Derek Kane?”

I took a big breath and blew it out. “…yes. But I’m not anymore.”

“But now you’re dating the bassist for the same group?”

I gritted my teeth. “…yes.”

“Um… is there anything we should know?”

“NO, and do NOT bring it up while Ryan’s there, okay?”

“Jeez, we’re not STUPID. We just wanted to know.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Alright, well… see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

The last thing I heard before I hung up was Rob saying in the background,
“We totally need to get those selfies before they break up, dude.”

We left two days later, and said goodbye to the MacCruders the night before.

I hugged Mrs. MacCruder. “I’m so glad I got to meet you.”

“I feel the same way, dear. You keep Ryan out of trouble for me, you hear?”

“I’ll try.”

I just shook hands with her husband. “It was really nice meeting you. Thank you for…”

I struggled to succinctly convey the awful events of that night in the rainstorm.

How do you thank someone for pulling a gun on your ex-boyfriend?

Especially one you still have feelings for?

HAD.

Had
feelings for.

At the time. When it happened.

“…for everything you did for us,” I finished up lamely.

Mr. MacCruder just tipped his head the slightest, like a cowboy saying ‘Ma’am,’ in an old western.

“My pleasure,” he drawled.

At least I got two words out of him instead of one.

“Charles will drive you there in the morning,” Mrs. MacCruder said.

“No, we can’t impose – ” Ryan started.

“Nonsense, don’t be silly,” Mrs. MacCruder overruled him.

Ryan tried his luck with a man-to-man appeal. “Our flight is at 7 AM, so we have to leave by 5. I don’t want you to have to get up that early.”

“Son, I was born gettin’ up earlier than that.”

It didn’t make a ton of sense, exactly, but it sounded badass. At least coming out of Mr. MacCruder’s mouth, anyway.

Ryan and I went back to the house and packed. We made love afterwards, then collapsed and drifted off to sleep.

4AM came brutally early.

I barely remember it, actually. I sleepwalked through my shower, then slept most of the way in Mr. MacCruder’s truck with my head on Ryan’s shoulder.

Same with the airplane. I woke up for our connecting flight in Dallas, and stayed awake the rest of the trip – which I wished wasn’t the case, because all I did was worry about seeing my parents in Savannah.

Ryan tried to soothe me. “It’s going to be great.”

“Yeah,” I said half-heartedly.

He hesitated. “…you know… I could just not go.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“If you’re uncomfortable about me meeting your family, I could wait until after you’ve left, then rent a car and drive to Athens. You could tell them I had to change plans at the last minute.”

Once again, I felt horrible.

“NO! What are you talking about?!” I yelped, even though I knew exactly what he was talking about.

“You just seem a little… perturbed about the whole thing.”

“I’m just worried my family is going to embarrass me.” (True, but not the whole story.) “Like, my brothers are going to endlessly bug you to take pictures with them so they can show their friends and try to pick up girls.”

He laughed. “Anything I can do to help out.”

“I’m sorry I’m being so weird about it. I just… they’re going to embarrass me for sure. My mom’s going to fawn all over you. My brothers will act all cool and aloof at first, then they’re going to turn into puppy dogs going ‘Look at me! Look at me!’ And my dad…”

Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Is he coming to the airport with a shotgun?”

“As in a shotgun wedding?” I laughed – not because it was funny, but because it was absurd. “No. Honestly… I don’t even know that my father will come to the airport.”

“But it’s a Saturday.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Does he work on Saturdays?”

“No.”

“Does he travel for business a lot?”

“No.”

“But… he hasn’t seen you in months, has he?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Ryan said, and let the topic drop.

Surprise, surprise, though – my entire family was there, waiting for us at the baggage claim.

As predicted, my mom was overly friendly right from the get-go. She gave Ryan a big hug, then turned to me and whispered loudly, “He’s so
handsome!”

My brothers were all ‘sup, dude’ and ‘how’s it goin’ for the first five minutes, but by the time we got out of the airport they were circling Ryan and almost jumping up and down in giddy excitement.

My dad was my dad: polite, close-lipped, pleasant, but distant. All he said to Ryan was “Nice to meet you.” I got a “Hello, Kaitlyn,” as he kissed my forehead.

Ryan was nice as could be. He tried to engage my father in conversation, but got little effort in return – not to mention he got swamped by my mother and brothers. Ryan was all smiles as he interacted with them, though at one point he looked at me with raised eyebrows like,
Help!

I gave him a devious smirk and shrugged.
Hey dude, you asked for this.

The ride home in the Honda Pilot was more of the same, with my brothers peppering Ryan with rapid-fire questions about Bigger and being famous. Thank GOD they didn’t ask anything about Derek. Mostly just about how many Playboy models Ryan had dated.

“None,” he told them.

“What about, like,
model
models?”

Ryan glanced over at me.

“Aw, don’t worry about Kaitlyn, she doesn’t care, she already thinks she’s hot shit,” Rob said.

“I do not!” I protested.

“Language,” my father said sharply.

“Sorry, Dad. Hot crap,” Rob amended, then turned to me. “Yeah you do.”

That started a quarrel that didn’t end until we got home.

Dinner was fine. Mom kept being effusive, Tim and Rob bothered Ryan to no end, and my dad remained close-lipped as ever. Afterwards, my brothers dragged Ryan off to show them how to play their $100 electric guitar. My father retired to his office, and Mom and I cleaned up the dishes from the dining room table.

That was when the trouble started.

“Ryan seems like a real sweetheart,” Mom said as she sipped on a glass of white wine. It was her third of the evening, I had noticed.

Not that I could judge, since that was my usual nightly quota back in South Dakota.

“He’s great,” I said as I finished loading the dishwasher.

“What happened with the other fellow?” she asked quietly.

My eyes bugged out, and I looked around in a panic. The sounds of electric guitar drifted down through the ceiling, so I assumed I was safe.

“How do you know about that?” I snapped.

“Your brothers started talking about it a couple of weeks ago. They saw pictures of you on some internet thingee and couldn’t shut up about it.”

“Don’t say anything about it in front of Ryan.”

She rolled her eyes. “Did I say anything about it in front of him so far?”

“…no…”

“Then give me some credit, Kaitlyn. Despite whatever else you may think of me, I’m not stupid.”

I frowned. “What does that mean, ‘despite whatever else you may think of me’?”

She snorted and settled into a kitchen chair. “I think we
both
know what that means.”

Actually, she was right.

“Sit down,” she said, and patted the kitchen table.

“I should go see how Ryan’s doing.”

“He’s doing fine. Let Tim and Rob have their fun. Sit down. We haven’t had a mother-daughter chat in a long, long time.”

Feeling wary, I sat down in the chair next to her.

“So what happened with the other fellow?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Something had to have happened.”

“It ended.”

“I figured that much out. Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That bad, huh?”

My mother was the Unstoppable Force when it came to conversations. You didn’t want to talk about it? That was okay, she understood, she wouldn’t pry, and all the other little niceties people say – and then she would go ahead asking you questions, stating assumptions, making little comments until it drove you mad. Like Chinese Water Torture.

As I said, my mother was the Unstoppable Force.

Unfortunately, I was not the Immovable Object.

But I tried.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“If it doesn’t matter, why not tell me about it?” she asked, her voice kind.

I have to give her that – she was being kind. She never pried into my private life solely out of some need for gossip. I always felt like she just wanted to talk to her daughter.

Even though it was freaking annoying.

“It’s in the past,” I insisted.

“Not
that
far in the past, apparently.”

“Far enough.”

She sipped her wine. “I talk about things in the past all the time.”

“But not about this.”

“Why not?”

JESUS.

“He cheated on me,” I blurted out.

Her features suddenly sagged with a deep, compassionate hurt. “Oh, honey… I’m so sorry.”

Maybe I was pissed at Derek. Maybe I was pissed at her for asking me about him. Maybe I was just pissed at
her.
But I followed up immediately with, “Why? You did the same thing.”

As soon as I said it, I knew I shouldn’t have. But I was glad I did, in a savage sort of way. I was spoiling for a fight.

She didn’t take the bait, though. That hurt expression slowly morphed into a calm mask of neutrality, and she watched me silently for a long time. Long enough for me to get defensive, anyway.

“What?” I snapped. “It’s true.”

“When are you going to forgive me?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “I already did.”

“When?”

“A long time ago.”

She gave a short, bitter laugh. “Right.”

“I
did.
”

“Then why did you bring it up like that, like you’re trying to hurt me?”

I gritted my teeth. “Because I hate it when people say they’ll do one thing, and they promise you they love you, and then they go… they go… they go and…”

I couldn’t help myself. My eyes welled up. I stared down at the floor as I sniffled and angrily wiped away the tears running down my cheeks.

I was angry at Derek – at what he had done to me, and that I still cared about him.

Angry at my mother, for how close she had come to ruining our family, and for prying into areas I didn’t want exposed.

Angry at myself, that I couldn’t keep control of my emotions…

…and guilty. Horribly guilty.

Because, once upon a time, I had cheated on someone, too.

And since karma’s a bitch, the man I had cheated with four years ago had now cheated on
me
.

A firestorm of emotions swirled through me as I cried.

“Honey,” Mom said soothingly.

She reached out to touch my hand. I jerked it away from her like she was trying to stab me.

“Kaitlyn,” my mother said, and I could hear the hurt in her voice again – except this time it wasn’t compassion for me, it was her own private pain. Pain I had inflicted.

I glared at her through my tears.

“You really do hate me, don’t you?” she asked quietly.

“No,” I snapped.

“Well you sure as hell couldn’t convince
me
of that,” she said, and took a gulp of wine.

“Why are you drinking so much?” I griped, even though I knew I was being hypocritical.

Another laugh, short and bitter. “Because it’s the only thing that helps when your husband and daughter hate your guts.”

The matter-of-factness with which she said it was deeply disturbing.

“I don’t hate you. Neither does Daddy.”

“Oh yes he does. He said he forgave me, just like you. But he freezes me out, just like you.”

“I don’t freeze you out.”

She harrumphed and gave me a sideways look. “
Right.
”

Now my discomfort was fading, and the anger was rising again. “Well, if you hate it so much, why don’t you leave him?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” she mused, staring off into the distance.

All my insides suddenly turned to ice water.

Hearing your mother say she’s contemplating leaving your father? Even if you agree it’s a good idea? Not a pleasant thing to hear.

Then she said something worse.

“I should have done it when it all happened,” she murmured. “I shouldn’t have given in.”

The room felt like it was tipping uncontrollably beneath me.

“What do you mean, you shouldn’t have given in?”

Her reverie broken, she looked over at me and realized she’d said too much. “Nothing.”

“What do you mean, you shouldn’t have given in?”

“Nothing. I’m buzzed, Kaitlyn, I was just – ”

“What do you mean?!”

She watched me for a long time, then slowly exhaled, like she was releasing some pent-up burden. “I went to your father and asked for a divorce when… when it all came out.”