The Rebuilding Year (6 page)

Ryan half turned. “Yeah?”

How to say this right.
“You said your lease is monthly. Have you ever thought about moving out?”

“Only a hundred times. But then I’d have to apartment-hunt again. I don’t have the time. And the next roommate might be worse than Jason.”

John glanced up. “Hard to imagine. But no, what I meant was, I’ve been thinking about renting out one of the rooms in the house.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow, but swung his legs back in and shut the door. “First you’ve said about it.”

“Well, I hadn’t decided. You see, I could use the cash, but…what if I ended up with someone like Jason? I mean, my kids come and stay with me sometimes. I’d have to find someone I trusted around them. And someone I wouldn’t mind having around.”

“And?”

“And you need a place you can stay that won’t make you flunk out of med school. I need the money. We get along okay. You don’t laugh at my hobby.”

“John, believe me, no one would laugh at your work.”

“You see?” It sounded better the more he thought about it. “You’re older. You find a twenty-two-year-old immature. You don’t have much sex. I don’t have to worry about you looking at my twelve-year-old and seeing jail bait.”

“Oh, now that’s flattering.”

“It came out wrong,” he said, before he realized Ryan was laughing at him. “What do you think?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. What are you paying for your share of that dump?”

“Five hundred.”

“So, there’s a quarter of my child support, right there.”

“A
quarter?
” Ryan stared at him. “You pay two thousand a month?”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t stifle a sigh. “At least there’s no more alimony since she remarried.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not. When we got divorced, Cynthia was a housewife, and I was a landscape architect with a big firm. She didn’t want me buying the kids fancy presents, like that daddy-as-Santa-Claus thing, but I wanted them to have nice stuff.”

“So you gave her the money and she bought fancy presents for them herself?”

“It was a mutual decision. It was…” He choked on the word
fair.
It had never been really fair, but… “It was good for the kids.”

“And now? You can’t be making that much. That’s twenty-four thousand a year!”

I know that.
“It’s a stretch. But teenagers are expensive. I can do it. Rent money would help.”

Ryan was staring at him. “It sounds too good,” he said slowly. “I like your company. I don’t have many friends right now. But sometimes living with someone is a good way to ruin a friendship.”

“I’m easy.” John coughed. “I mean, I’m pretty easy to live with.”

Ryan glanced up at the light show in his windows. “I can’t say no,” he admitted. “In fact, when can I move in?”

“Whenever you like.” John felt like he’d won a lottery, warm and happy. It would be great to have someone else around the house, someone who would fill those empty spaces where he should have had family. “How about this weekend? You pack your stuff, and I can help haul it in the truck. Except…what about giving notice? You don’t want to end up paying rent on two places at once.”

Behind Ryan, a fluttering motion caught their eyes. Something pink floated earthward from the open balcony and landed on the grass. It was a bra. The woman who owned it was undoubtedly a…healthy young woman. Ryan sighed. “Oh yes, I do. Saturday. 8 a.m. Be here.” He slid out and shut the door.

“Right.” John knew he was grinning. “Good luck with the biochemistry exam.”

Ryan tapped his forehead. “No sweat. It’s in here. Even that circus upstairs won’t shake it loose. Saturday.”

“See you then.”

Ryan hated moving, but it was easier with help. And getting away from Jason’s never-ending party was a major relief. He had enjoyed getting up at six a.m. despite it being Saturday, and ostentatiously packing up the last of his stuff. He left Jason bleary-eyed and grumbling about losing the stereo.
Tough shit.
The girl who was with Jason this time had made a comment about now having room for her to move in. Ryan had savored the look of panic on Jason’s face.

Ryan reached the top of the stairs in John’s house, and hid the need to take a deep breath. This was the last of his stuff. He should have let John help with more of it, except he’d caught the man trying to be discreet about lifting the boxes to see which was the heaviest. So of course, Ryan’s pride had made him want to lug them himself. Which was stupid. He was fucking lucky he hadn’t taken a header down these stairs. He turned in to his room and sat down hard on the bed, letting the box slide to the floor.

John turned from where he had been casually looking out the window. “That the last?”

“Yep. Ready to give me the tour?”

“In a minute.” John slid down to sit on the floor, his long legs stuck out in front of him. “You don’t have much stuff for a thirty-year-old guy.”

“I’ve got a bunch in storage at my brother Drew’s place,” Ryan told him. “But I didn’t want to pay to haul it all out here. And this was kind of a new start. I figured I’d go slow.”

“I’m just as glad,” John said. “Since it had to get carried up here. I’m old and decrepit, and I can’t take this much work.”

“Bullshit.” Ryan dropped back on the bed.
Nice, soft bed.
“You’re in better shape than I am, and that’s saying something because I’ve worked at it.”

“Well, maybe. Outdoor work is good for that. When I was a suit, I was pretty flabby.”

“Hard to imagine.”

“Me as a suit, or me flabby?”

“Either. Both.” Ryan closed his eyes. John was built like a pine tree, tall and limber and not an ounce of extra fat. He had long lean muscles, except for his arms, which were nicely rounded from all the digging. Well, and his chest had some width to it. “Maybe you’ll take me on as extra crew, save me lifting weights.”

“When you can tell a maple tree from an oak, maybe.”

“One little slip.” Ryan smiled in the dark behind his closed lids. The room was quiet, with only a distant swish of traffic going by on the road out front. No rap. No duets of passionate moaning. “Man, this is nice.”

“You sure you don’t mind having the smallest bedroom?”

Ryan cracked one eye open and rolled his head to look at John. “What, you think I’m going to kick one of your kids out of their room, to have more space for my nonexistent things? Who do you think I am?”

John’s smile was slow and warm. “I know who you are. You’re welcome to use the rest of the house, you know. That parlor thingy downstairs has a desk in it that never gets used. I have the study and the workshop.”

Ryan bit his lip. “The workshop might make a great place to study in, if it was cleaned up a bit.”

John swallowed. “Um…”

Ryan laughed. “Just kidding, John. Come on. You’re already giving me this great room and plenty of space for the same rent as my half of Jason’s Fantasy Playhouse. I’m good.”

“Okay. Good. I’m glad.” John got up and gave him a slap on the leg. His good leg. The man paid attention. “Come on, let me give you the ten-cent tour.”

It was a great house. Lots of nooks and crannies, gabled windows, odd-shaped closets. It was a little dusty, but relatively empty of clutter. It was clear that kids visited, but they didn’t live there. There was a small space on the end gable, accessible only by bending over, with a round window out onto the back lawn. It begged for a heap of cushions and a grownups-keep-out sign. The kids’ rooms were personalized, filled with books and toys, but a little too tidy. And a little young, Ryan thought, handling an airplane lamp on Mark’s dresser. Most fifteen-year-olds would have passed that on a few years ago.

Eventually, they ended up in the kitchen, sitting at the little table. “You made this, right?” Ryan said, running a hand over the glossy surface.

“Yes,” John said. “It’s too small for when the kids are here. I have a regular one that seats four. But this one is okay for just me.”

“Or for the two of us,” Ryan said. “Two plates and a large pizza—what more could we need?”

“I guess.”

Ryan tilted his head and took a better look. John had seemed low-key all day. Ryan wondered if the reality of sharing the house was sinking in. Maybe John was regretting the invitation. “You know,” he said tentatively. “I still have a month on my lease on the apartment, if this isn’t working for you.”

“Huh?” John straightened. “No! What would give you that idea?”

“You just seem a little down.”

“I just…I think I’m finally realizing that I’m never going to have it all. You know, a normal life with a wife and kids in this house. I know it’s been four years since the divorce, but I think all along I was hoping something would change, that I could get it back. Not in my head, but in my gut. And now I know I won’t. Which is…liberating, in a way, but a little sad.”

“It’s hard to let go.”

“Yeah.”

Ryan knew he shouldn’t ask, but he wanted to know. It wasn’t the impression he got from all their conversations. “Do you still love her?”

“Cynthia?” John shook his head. “No. Not for a long time. I loved the life, though, loved the kids. I liked being the breadwinner and the dad, having it all. And Cynthia was the most beautiful girl in school. I couldn’t believe it when she agreed to go out with me. She was way out of my league, but she made it happen. We got married at eighteen, and I thought I had the world in my hand. Even when it wasn’t true love, it was good.”

“What happened?”

John sighed. “Life? I’m not sure. I wasn’t enough for her somehow. She was always needing more, looking for more. She was ambitious and I wasn’t. Like my job. She picked out which offer I took out of school. She wanted to play supportive wife, give parties, help my career. I wanted to grub in the dirt. When the firm got bought out, I had a chance at a bigger salary in a management position. I turned it down. I guess that was the last straw.”

“What work does she do?”

“Work? Well, the kids, she’s always been busy with the kids. She’s a great mom. Her new husband’s a lawyer and she talks about all the stuff she does to help his career.”

Great parasite,
Ryan thought. His mother had held down a job even with kids. She hadn’t needed to define herself by his dad’s career. But it wasn’t his place to comment.

“So,” he said. “Do you want to make up a formal roster of chores, divide things up? Or play it by ear?”

John gave him that warm wide smile. “If you do dishes, you can live here forever.”

Ryan was surprised at how good that sounded.

Chapter Five

They had fallen into a routine so easily, Ryan reflected three weeks later as he dried the spaghetti pot from dinner. Okay, sometimes he wasn’t as neat as John might have liked. He had become very familiar with the long-suffering sigh the man came out with as he returned some straying utensil to its proper place. And John took the longest showers known to man, so there was never hot water in the evenings. Ryan had had to put his foot down about getting in first on Fridays after Anatomy lab. He needed to get the formaldehyde off his skin before letting John have his turn.

But in general, it worked better than he’d expected. They liked the same music in the background in the evenings. They both got up early, but neither one was irritatingly chipper before the sun rose. They bought groceries for themselves, but didn’t make a big deal out of whose carton of milk was open now. And as a side benefit, he got a ride in to campus in John’s truck most mornings, instead of standing waiting for the bus. After just three weeks, Ryan felt he could handle living like this for the next three years.

Upstairs the water shut off at last. John appeared as Ryan was putting away the last of the silverware. His T-shirt clung to his damp skin, and his wet auburn hair looked dark brown. He moved easily past Ryan, and grabbed a clean mug out of the cupboard. “You want some too?” he asked, automatically getting down a second cup.

“Nope.” Ryan grabbed a Sprite out of the fridge and opened his textbook on the cleared table. “I don’t have much studying to do. I’m planning an early night and some sleep. Without caffeine.”

John filled his mug from the thermos and waved it under Ryan’s nose. “But it’s sooo good.”

Ryan laughed and waved a hand at him. “Get away from me with that.”

“Your loss.” John took a big swallow. “I’m going on the computer for a while. I’m planning the plant orders for spring. So don’t shut off the network.”

“You’ve got it.” John had been pretty half-assed with his computer setup. No security, old software. Ryan had got him set with better stuff, and taught him to put his computer on a power strip and shut it off when not in use. Lower bills, and no one was hijacking your machine in the middle of the night. He hadn’t sold the man on a webcam yet, but eventually.

Ryan was deep in the intricacies of electrolyte controls in the kidney when he heard John curse from the other room. The tone had Ryan on his feet immediately. He stuck his head into the study.