Chapter Thirteen: Ryan
DANIEL sat on the raised deck of his mother’s home, watching over the kids playing in the back yard below. It was Sunday, two days after his disastrous encounter with Nicolette, the day after he’d woken up in his truck feeling slobbery and gritty. He had awakened in the back seat, listening to the predawn stillness, wanting desperately to go back to his apartment for a shower and some dry clothes. He quickly found he was way too drunk to drive -- even the short distance back to his flat.
He had hazed in and out of consciousness until dawn brightened the grey overcast sky, feeling miserable and sick, too sick to muster the will to leave, but not drunk enough to pass out again. In the end, Tommy had tracked him down and given Daniel a lift home to his little apartment, where he’d slept off the rest of his bender. How Tommy had found him, Daniel could only guess, though he wryly wondered how many of his and Nicolette’s old haunts Tommy had visited until he found Daniel folded up in the back seat of his truck, shivering in a semi-drunken stupor under his damp jacket. Annoying as the guy could be, he seemed to be there when he was needed most, though he had been aggravatingly unsympathetic. Daniel suspected that he’d been laughing at Daniel's every wince, groan, and dry heave as he rode in Tommy’s open topped US Army Korean War-era antique.
Though he had spent the majority of his Saturday afternoon recovering, Daniel had called Shelly and Dane, offering his apologies for ruining their evening with his (temper tantrum, his mind unhelpfully supplied) reaction to seeing Nicolette so unexpectedly. He had even called Tommy, intending to apologize and thank him for the rescue, but had only reached Tommy’s voicemail. Daniel wondered if Tommy was screening his calls.
It’s the most annoying thing he could be doing under the circumstances, so yeah...seems likely.
He took a pull on his beer, mostly just for taste, then walked to the railing, watching as a group of kids began playing a complicated game of tag while the older kids tossed a football back and forth, waiting for their turn in the backyard. For as long as he could remember, Sundays had always been dedicated family days, days where the Hayes family gathered to go to Mass, then meet for a post-Mass lunch most often with his immediate family and occasionally with his extended family. Originally it had been both, his Mother’s extended family -- her great multi-generational brood of relatives -- and his Father’s siblings and their kids. While the two families had little in common, years of Sundays had finally created a hesitant bond. From there, they had slowly found other commonalities -- love of the 49ers and the Sharks, hatred of the Dodgers and Yankees, love of the military.
His father’s death had been like a bomb going off in the fault lines between the two families; the Irish half (well, sixteenth, if you stuck strictly to numbers) had gradually stopped showing up.
He sighed as his alcohol dreams returned to him, grief seeping through his thoughts like blood from an incompletely healed wound. He hadn’t thought about the funeral in years. He still occasionally spoke with his father’s siblings and some of his cousins from that side, but they had drifted away over the years. By the time Daniel had mustered out, they had largely quit all family gatherings, even Christmas and Easter.
He frowned, knowing he was avoiding the real issue.
It all comes back to Nikki, doesn’t it? So many things changed when she left. Now that she’s back, what does it mean?
He sighed, frustrated and conflicted. Her departure (abandonment!) had left too much damage to make her a reasonable option, but his mind kept replaying that first moment, that instant of unadulterated vindication and gratification that she’d come back, replaying all the little details -- the scar through her eyebrow, the dark sad eyes, the ink on her wrist, the promise ring -- the only jewelry he’d seen on her hands...her hesitant almost plaintive smile.
You crushed that, didn’t you, asshole? He thought, as a confusing mix of primal satisfaction and guilty shame surged through him....and anger that he should feel ashamed.
So now what? It’s over -- whatever we had was destroyed a long time ago...but knowing that she’s here, that she’s maybe less than half a mile away somewhere...
He shook his head, frustrated. He had considered begging off, skipping this Sunday meal with the family, especially since he knew it was going to be one of the bigger gatherings, but he felt...adrift. He desperately needed something to anchor him, to give him at least a hint of stability to ground him so he could figure out what to do next.
He’d jerked awake early that morning, feeling sweaty and disturbed, wondering if he’d had a repeat of that weird whiskey dream the other night. He had briefly considered trying to go back to sleep, but once he’d closed his eyes, his mind had stubbornly refused to let go of the problem, and he’d found himself wide awake, staring at the clock and realizing that he could still meet with the family for Mass. Once he’d returned from the Army, he’d fallen into the habit of skipping Mass, but today had decided to go, especially knowing that his brother was visiting.
Berkeley was a little more than an hour away on a good traffic day, but Ryan never missed the traditional Sunday family gathering. He had hoped to get a chance to get Ryan’s opinion, but with the general madhouse atmosphere that prevailed, he had yet to get that chance. He and Ryan had never been very close, but his brother had a way of taking apart problems presented to him that often exposed hidden complexities or unacknowledged details. Ryan was also unsparingly honest and direct -- a conversation with him could be infuriating and humbling, but enlightening as well. Daniel needed that -- needed his brother’s opinion to help him get a grip on the situation without his own emotions getting in the way. Ryan had a knack for filtering emotions separately from the hard data.
Daniel leaned back, taking a pull of the beer he was enjoying. The day was crisp; summer hadn’t yet arrived in full force; he suspected that this was probably the first Meeting of the Ortiz Brood now that summer was finally starting to show. He frowned as Ryan stepped out of the house, pulling the sliding glass door shut as he approached Daniel, two beers in his fist.
Daniel studied Ryan as he approached; Ryan stood a couple of inches shorter, though he’d inherited their father’s genes more than Daniel had, Ryan’s blonde hair and hazel eyes contrasting with Daniel's own dark hair and brown eyes. They had a similar build, but Daniel still worked out, unwilling to lose the muscular physique that the Army had given him. Ryan, by contrast, was less physical in his pursuits, giving him a more wiry build, though Daniel knew that he was in good shape. The handful of times they’d gone jogging together, Daniel had been genuinely surprised to find Ryan not only keeping up, but sometimes challenging him; he supposed Ryan found it annoying to be out of shape, and had concluded that the most efficient way to solve the problem had been running...or probably swimming, since Ryan would probably think swimming was a useful skill, making it a more optimal solution than just running.
Christ, just thinking like Ryan is exhausting, he thought wryly.
Ryan sidled up to Daniel and leaned over the railing, mimicking Daniel as he rested his forearms on the sun-warmed metal, wordlessly depositing the unopened beer on the ground (probably having noticed that Daniel already had a half full beer in his hand). They stood side by side in silence for a minute, taking in the backyard with the gaggle of playing children. Daniel wondered if Ryan even noticed the children; his brother had an almost freakish ability to disregard information that wasn’t pertinent to whatever had his intellectual interest.
“I bought that Camaro -- I’ll have to get it towed out of the storage lot sometime in the next couple of weeks.”
Daniel nodded, “I’ll call Thomas -- I think he’s got a slot free right now. You found an engine you like for it, yet?”
Ryan shook his head, a pensive expression on his face, “No, but I have a couple leads. I’ll let you know.”
Daniel nodded absently; the one thing he and his brother shared was an interest in cars. Ryan’s interest was more theoretical -- he loved mecha
nical systems, loved the way all the components fit together and worked in conjunction with each other, especially under stress. Daniel was loosely a member of the grease monkey community, but he didn’t know anybody that could build or rebuild an engine like his brother. When Daniel had bought an old Mustang shortly after returning home, he’d been genuinely surprised at Ryan’s interest in working on it. In the end, they’d worked weekends on it for nearly a year, restoring it back to its original beauty. When he’d resold it to a collector, Daniel's share of the proceeds had funded the purchase of his truck; Ryan probably used it to pay back some of his student loans.
Ryan’s primary interest had been restoring the engine. He’d been willing to help with other things, but the farther he got from the engine, the less time he was willing to spend. The old Challenger they’d worked on afterward hadn’t been as profitable, but the hours they’d spent working on it had cemented a sort of truce between them that hadn’t existed before. Once they’d sold the Challenger, Ryan had insisted on finding a classic Camaro and rebuilding it from the ground up. Daniel suspected it would be their most challenging project, but it also promised to be a great distraction from his other problems.
“You seem unsettled.”
Daniel glanced at his brother in surprise, wondering if Ryan had spoken to Tommy, “What do you mean?”
Ryan snorted, shaking his head slightly without returning Daniel's gaze, “You haven’t asked how much it cost or where I found it or double checked what make and model.”
Ryan waited patiently in silence, moving only to sip his beer.
While they waited, Audrey, their younger adopted sister, stepped out of the sliding glass door onto the deck. She was middle height, perhaps five-five or five-six with glossy black hair. She always seemed lively, her brown eyes sparkling with enthusiasm for whatever caught her interest. She had an oval face, with strong facial structure and a ready smile. Daniel knew she was at least half Malaysian, her ancestry giving her a swarthy complexion that gave her an exotic aspect (though he had learned from experience that actually using that adjective -- ‘exotic’ -- with her would likely draw a sharp rejoinder). She grinned as she saw them leaning against the railing, “Mom says Lynn’s a keeper, Ry.”
Ryan twisted, looking back over his shoulder at his younger sister as he expressionlessly replied, “I know.”
Her smile widened as she approached, “She’s in the kitchen, helping Mom y las tías con la cooking. If you cut this one loose, I think they’re going to kill you.”
Ryan stared at her, holding his silence when she pushed her way between the two brothers. She grinned at Daniel as he grunted in disapproval, “Thanks!”
Daniel tried to glare at her, but found himself almost instantly losing the battle to remain stone faced, answering her grin with a rueful smile of his own, “Hey sis. How’d you escape? I can’t believe the tías would let you go without a fight.”
She rolled her eyes, adding a very put-upon sigh, “I didn’t. I’m on parole. I’m supposed to be checking up on Tío Fred to see if the grill is ready for the meat, yet.”
She glanced back and forth between her brothers, noting their silence, perhaps using what Daniel and Audrey agreed was “Sibling Telepathy” (Ryan refused to use the term or even acknowledge it when they used it) to intuit that there was was a serious conversation going on. A slow smile grew as she realized that something interesting was indeed happening, clearly hoping to be included in the discussion.
Her smile is one of her best features, Daniel thought distractedly, whomever she’s dating probably folds like a cheap suit whenever she turns it on him.
Ryan glanced at her sideways, “Hey Bird -- we’re out of beer. Go and get us replacements. One of the foreign ones on the bottom shelf.”
Her smile faded, Daniel's guilt swelling at her obvious disappointment, “But...”
Ryan cut in, adding, “Bring this one back to the fridge,” indicating the beer he’d brought out earlier.
“But...”
“And bring in the empties, would’ya?”
She frowned, clearly hoping to sulk her way into the conversation, but almost immediately gave up the attempt.
“Fine,” she huffed, picking up the unopened beer, then taking Ryan’s empty and forcefully pulling the half full beer from Daniel's hand.
“Hey! I was drinking that!”
She ignored him as she headed back into the house.
Daniel glared at his brother, but it was like glaring at a stone to make it move. He shook his head, resolving to speak with her, to make it up to her later.
He gave up with a sigh.
His brother turned, looking at Daniel consideringly, then shrugged, “I’ll stop doing it when it stops working. So, what’s bothering you?”
Daniel frowned, unsatisfied. He briefly considered his options, then decided to save the conversation about Audrey for another time.
“Nicolette’s come back.”
Ryan nodded thoughtfully, considering this information.
“Explains things. How’s she looking? Did anything stand out?”
Daniel frowned, puzzled by the odd question. It wasn’t like Ryan to focus on something so superficial. He wondered what he was thinking. “Like Nicolette, man. I thought if I ever saw her again it would be like looking at a stranger -- and it kind of was -- but it was also like looking backward in time.”
Silence fell between them as Ryan considered this, “Her family is gone; I doubt she was very popular at school. What do you think she wants?”
“Wants? How the fuck should I know what she wants? If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking you...”
Ryan grinned, “For advice with the ladies?”
Daniel stared at him blankly for a moment, then snorted as he turned back to the yard filled with playing children. Both he and Ryan had never had too much trouble with women, leading Daniel to wonder if it was something that ran in the family, though Ryan was far more mercenary in his romantic habits.
“For advice with Nicolette.”
“Has she asked you for anything? Asked for money?”
Daniel shook his head, “Not yet, though we’ve barely had a chance to speak. And thank you very much for your cynicism.”
“Well, that might be a good place to start, then. If she asks for money, I’d walk.”
Daniel growled in irritation, but couldn’t think of a logical counterargument.
After a moment of silence, Ryan continued, “All I’m saying is it might be in your best interests to be a little cautious until you have the whole sight picture.”
“‘Sight picture’? Did you read a dummies book for shooting or something?”
He shrugged, “I read the US Army Ranger’s training manual, so kind of, yeah.”
“Very funny.”
The corner of Ryan’s mouth briefly quirked into a smile, a flicker of movement briefly glimpsed under the surface calm, but he remained silent, his eyes never leaving Daniel's. The silence stretched, becoming uncomfortable under Ryan’s unblinking scrutiny.
“Stop lizarding out. You’re starting to piss me off.”
“I’m going to call Uncle Nick and see if he can pull her file for us.”
“Now you really are pissing me off.”
Ryan shrugged indifferently, “You don’t have to read it.”
Daniel shook his head, wondering why he’d wanted to speak with his brother in the first place.
Ryan surprised him, as he often did, after the silence had stretched on for a little while, “Dan, she messed you up when she left. Bad. I’d prefer not to see that happen again. I’m not sure Mom could take that again, for all that she’s the strongest of us.”
Ryan hesitated before adding, “Just worried about you, hermano.”
Daniel sighed, “I know, Ryan. I know.”
After another lengthy but amicable pause, Ryan asked, “What is it that you want to get out of this?”
Daniel studied his brother, trying to gauge his feeling
s. He was surprised to realize that he hadn’t taken the time to think beyond his initial response to seeing her, that he was still reacting to the shock. He tried to wade through his feelings, to find a logical conclusion that seemed realistic. After a moment he gave up, “I don’t know, Ryan. I thought it would be good to be angry at her, to say all the things that I’ve been...”
“Obsessing over?”
Daniel snorted in irritation, “That, and all the things I’ve been struggling with.”
When the silence began to stretch, he prompted, “...And?”
“And it wasn’t very satisfying. Honestly, raging at her...didn’t feel like it resolved anything.”
Ryan nodded thoughtfully, “Well, you’d better figure out what you want; but you need to figure out what she wants first.”
Daniel nodded, but found he didn’t have anything to add.
They stood side by side, leaning on the railing long after it became abundantly clear Audrey wasn’t coming back.