Notes:
Oh my gosh, my vacation wasn’t the productive thing I had imagined it to
be. Mostly it was me trailing after my
MIL like a baby duck while my husband worked on his homework and her boyfriend
cut hair. The lady likes company and I
like her, so it was a good match. But
for fuck’s sake, California, why are you so goddamn cold? Two hours north of LA and I was freezing all
the time. I got back to Colorado,
stepped out into 28 degree F temperatures and sighed with relief. It’s just different here. Less humidity, I guess. Aaanyway…
This is a 3k Ryan POV. I’m halfway through the epilogue and will
bestow it presently. Enjoy, darlins, and
thanks for being patient about my scheduling issues. The trip was nice, but I’m so happy to be
back home, I can’t even tell you.
Title:
Love Letters
Part Forty:
Ryan POV: Breaking Ice
***
The thing was that, before Ben, Ryan
didn’t really understand the meaning of the word “friend.”
Ryan was good with words, he always had
been, they came a lot easier to him than numbers ever did. Not as easy as colors and shapes, constantly
blending in the back of his mind as his errant hand leaked doodles onto the
edges of his homework, but pretty easy.
He was reading alone by the age of five, and at the age of seven he
stole the family dictionary and propped it up in his room and used it whenever
he got to a word he couldn’t understand.
When he was in the third grade, Bunnicula
became Ryan’s favorite book, and he spent one evening looking up the proper
definitions for all the words he didn’t quite get.
Admonish:
a mild criticism, warning or reminder. That one was easy, Ryan’s mom did that all
the time. Admonish, admonish—it sounded better than scold, to
his ears, and so Ryan adopted it as his own. His mother admonished him. That made
sense.
Devious:
sneaky, sly.
That was a good one for Brody.
Only he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was, because Ryan knew all
about the tree house Brody had built in the woods where he took girls
sometimes. It was a noisy place.
Bewilderment:
confusion.
The look on Pamela’s face when Father told her she wasn’t going to go to
prom with someone like Charlie Jackson, who was a year older than Pamela and
black and had given her flowers when he asked her out. Pamela had been excited, she had already
picked out a dress to match Charlie’s suit, but when Father said no, you had to
listen. Pamela was aghast (surprised, shocked, horrified), it was a predicament (a difficult, puzzling or
unpleasant situation) but in the end she didn’t go to prom, not with
Charlie, not with anyone. Ryan
understood much better after he looked all this up. Bunnicula
had the best words.
There was one of them in particular
that he tried to assign to Father: blight. The dictionary said it was a plant disease,
which caused the plant to wither and die.
Ryan didn’t think Father was a plant, but he did wonder if maybe there
was a blight inside of him anyway, something tiny and withered that should have
been leafy and green and full of life.
That was the only reason Ryan could think of that would explain why his
Father was the way he was sometimes.
Ryan didn’t really have friends,
nothing beyond classmates that he sometimes did projects with, kids who didn’t
mind sitting next to him on the bus and the occasional boy or girl who wanted
him to draw them a picture. Ryan thought
that was normal. Pamela never brought
people home, after all, and Brody was too busy playing football and making out
with girls to have friends. It wasn’t
until Ryan got ahold of one of Ben’s letters—not that he was looking, he wasn’t
snooping for that one, Brody had left it on his desk and Ryan had only been
looking for a pencil, honest!—and read through it that he started to wonder if
maybe he had it wrong.
Ben wrote about his mother, he wrote
about classes, he wrote about living overseas and how much he hated spelling
things in German but loved to say the words.
Schwangerschaftverhütungsmittel is
the word for contraceptive. Can you
imagine asking a girl if she’s got one of those before getting it on with her? Another one I like is lebensmüde. I think it means
world-weary, or it might possible mean suicidal. Either way, it’s awesome.
Well yeah, that was pretty awesome, but what was even better
was that Brody had someone who wanted to share words with him. Cool foreign words, no less. Wow.
Naturally Ryan had to find out all he could about Ben after
that. Naturally, that led him to the
other letters, and naturally he had to read them. It was all Ryan could do not to write to Ben
himself, but he didn’t think Brody would appreciate that. He probably didn’t want to share his friend.
The letters Ryan could scrounge from Ben were always
interesting, fascinating, a glimpse into a life that Ryan had never known could
exist. It seemed like Ben was always
traveling, always seeing things, always taking care of himself, by himself, and
that was so strange as to be almost impossible for Ryan to conceptualize. In the Kuzniar household, you did what your
parents told you. Specifically your
father. All of Ben’s words were bright
and strange and fresh like a breeze, while all of the words in their home just
got duller and drabber and darker.
Things didn’t really change until Ryan came out. It wasn’t the fact that he was gay that caused
problems, really; Ryan was pretty certain his parents already knew and were
just ignoring it. It was the fact that
he put the word “gay” out there, blatantly, publicly, in such a way that it
couldn’t be ignored, that made it unforgiveable. Being sent away from his home, as
dysfunctional as it was, almost broke Ryan.
Being offered Ben’s letters by Brody, after his brother had so
vehemently defended his territory not long ago, patched up a little of that
rift. Brody was the means by which Ryan
learned both “friend” and “family” the way he thought they were meant to be
understood, and he was forever grateful to his big brother for that.
Ryan moved beyond words into other ways of expressing
emotion, into painting, into art, into comics and graphic novels and simple
sculpture. Art became verdant, benediction, even insufflation when Ryan felt like he
would die if he didn’t have some way to speak about everything he was
feeling. Doing art led to finding other
artists, and eventually to finding Jasmine, and she became the first real
person to redefine “friend” for Ryan.
It wasn’t luck that had brought them together to work on Janie and the Phantom; Jasmine had
actively encouraged Ryan to go for it, and worked as hard as he did on making
it a success. Jasmine stepped into the
role of friend and commandeered a lot of others too: safeguard, sister,
mother. And Ryan let her, because it
felt good to be cared about, any way the caring came.
More people entered Ryan’s life, more friends, occasional
lovers, coworkers. He liked his
life. He kept in touch with his family
as best he could, but beyond Brody and his kids, Ryan really didn’t care all
that much.
Then came the accident.
Then came the funeral, and with it came Ben.
And fuck, that turned into something wild, more than Ryan had
ever hoped for when he sent Ben’s invitation, and the intensity of his own
emotions frightened him. He wanted to
pick Ben up and fold him into his life, curve him just right so that the last
of the empty spaces were filled. Friend,
lover, partner. And for a while it had
seemed possible, and Ryan basked in the glory of Ben’s companionship and
ignored the niggles, the wrinkles, the bits that didn’t fit. Then Maydays happened, and Ben ripped himself
right out of Ryan’s life, bringing back the empty spaces and leaving them
ragged-edged and bleeding.
Space was a word
Ryan despised. Latitude, margin, volume…all
components of measuring distance, the gap between two things. Ryan didn’t want a gap, he despised gaps, but
he couldn’t close this one on his own.
He’d promised he wouldn’t.
Not that that was an easy promise to keep.
“You need to just take him out of your contacts list,” Jasmine
advised from where she was stirring the smoked salmon chowder she had on the
stove. “Take away the temptation to text
or call.”
“I’ve got his number memorized,” Ryan pointed out, sliding
his finger across the phone. The picture
for the contact was of Ben in a suit, a photo that Michael had sent through a
while back. He looked ridiculously hot,
as usual.
“Yeah, but if it’s not in your phone you’ll have to take the
time to punch the numbers in instead of calling him with one finger. Here.”
She set the spoon down and came over to him. “Gimme.”
Ryan groaned but handed over the phone. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair as
he watched her erase Ben’s information and shut his eyes. Fuck, but this was a lot harder than he
thought it was going to be. It had been
three months since he’d spoken to Ben, since he’d promised to keep his distance
and give them space.
Three months was more than enough time to forget someone, if
you really wanted to put them behind you.
Three months was an eternity to live in limbo, but that was what Ryan
had said he’d do, so…he’d done his best to keep busy. He finished the last volume of Janie and the Phantom, thrilled or upset
legions of his fans with it, and did his best to help his family get back on
its feet. His mother and Melissa were
good friends now, Cheryl was back from rehab and figuring out how to be a mom
again, and the kids were happy in school.
“You’re doing good,” Jasmine told him, handing the phone
back. “Seriously. This is the best thing you could be doing
right now, except for finishing the last damn painting for the Janie guide.”
“You really think a guide to the universe is going to sell?”
“Would I have asked you to do it if I didn’t?” Jasmine asked,
one eyebrow raised. “Do I make it a
habit to waste your, and therefore my, time by having you do ridiculous things?”
“Well, you did try to make me cook last night,” Ryan pointed
out, the heavy feeling in his chest easing a little.
“And that cornbread was goddamn fantastic, so what does that
tell you?”
“That I am but your humble arms and eyes, milady,” Ryan said. “How long before the chowder is ready?”
“It needs another half hour or so to simmer.”
“Great. I’ve got a
date to help Molly build a scale model of the Parthenon, so I should get on
that.” Ryan stood up, then leaned in and
kissed Jasmine’s cheek. “You’re too good
to me, you know that?”
“I know everything,” Jasmine purred, scratching her nails
through his hair. It felt better when
she did it. “Go get your Greek on. I’ll let people know when this is ready to
go.”
Molly was in her room, surrounded by white paper, glue and
multiple pictures of the Parthenon for reference. Lots of paper had already been folded into
tubes, which she was painstakingly gluing together so that they were all the
same circumference.
“That’s a lot of pillars,” Ryan said as he sat down next to
her on her bed.
“Forty-six for the outside, twenty-three for the inside,”
Molly confirmed, her pale hair falling down and hiding most of her face. “I think there’s more than that here,
though. Joey wanted to help, so I had
him fold the paper around that dowel.”
She pointed at the slender wooden rod up by her pillow. “He had fun.”
“That was nice of you.”
Molly shrugged. “Not really. He’s the one who wanted to help.”
The fact that Molly didn’t understand the favor she’d been
doing her younger brother just by letting
him help made Ryan want to scoop her up in a hug, but she was focused on the
glue right now. “What can I do for you?”
“Will you help me draw the pediments?” Molly handed him the stiff white paper she’d
precut to be the right size and a pencil.
“I want to do the frieze as well, but in sections so it can be removed
and I can demonstrate where the pieces originally were, and then where they all
ended up.”
“I can do pediments.”
Ryan looked at the picture, then began to lightly sketch in Athena and
Poseidon. “This is for World History,
right?”
“Yeah. I chose Greece
because I like their mythology, and my teacher told me I could use your graphic
novels in my report as a representation of modern interpretations of ancient Greek
mythology and culture.”
“Wait, you got your teacher to agree to let you use comic books as a source for your history
report?” Ryan demanded, looking over at his niece. She smiled shyly, and he laughed. “You’re totally brilliant, you know
that? You’re going to rule the world
someday.”
“Thanks.” They worked
quietly a little longer before Molly said, “Grandma said you’re going to stay
with us, for good. Is that true?”
Ryan restrained himself from sighing. Grandma
had been bugging him about that for weeks, trying to get him to agree to move
back to Concord permanently. Jasmine
seemed to be in the mood for a change and didn’t mind leaving Boston behind,
but there was no way they were going to set up shop so close to his
family. Ryan was glad he could help
them, but now that they were getting back on their feet he was starting to feel
the urge to move on. Where, he wasn’t
sure yet.
“I’ll definitely stay for a while longer,” Ryan replied
eventually. “But I’ll have to move on
eventually. Jasmine and I both will.”
“I thought so,” was all Molly said.
“That won’t change things between us though, Molly,” he
assured her, bumping their knees together.
“No matter where either of us go, we can keep in touch. In fact, I might fade away into nothing like
a sad, lonely ghost if you abandoned me completely.”
“We can’t have that,” Molly told him, mock-serious. She smiled and shrugged. “I figured you’d have to go. It’s okay.
It’s a lot better now.”
“Yeah.” Even if things
were very, very far from perfect, they were definitely better. It was true for Molly; hell, it was true for
Ryan. He might be living in limbo but at
least he wasn’t in hell.
Jasmine called everyone down for dinner a few minutes
later. Joey showed up with his mother in
tow, which meant they’d been watching a movie together; Joey’s therapist
recommended Cheryl set aside some time every day to spend with her son, and she
was doing her best. Ryan’s mother was
there, chatting about everything under the sun while she gushed at Jasmine for
cooking, and pointedly mentioning all the things she thought they could all do
together in the future.
Ryan broke through her monologue about sleighing. “As long as we do it before the new year,
that’ll work out.”
“Oh, there’s no need to be so specific, darling, that’s all
months away.”
“Yes, there is. I’m
not staying forever, Mom, you can’t just plan my life out for me without
talking to me about it first.”
DeeDee looked stricken.
“I am doing no such thing!” she protested.
“Yes, you are. And I
appreciate you thinking of me, of both of us,” he indicated Jasmine, who winked
at him. “But I’ve got something else in
mind.”
“What could be better than staying with your family?” DeeDee
demanded. “Honestly, Ryan, don’t you
want to be here for the children?”
Oh, a guilt trip.
Lovely. And hell no, not anymore.
“Mom.” Ryan just
stared at her for a moment, and she flushed a little and looked down at her
plate.
“Tell me something about the Parthenon,” Cheryl said
smoothly, looking over at her daughter. “It
was a temple, right?”
“Dedicated to Athena,” Molly said.
“What was Athena the goddess of?”
The rest of the meal was spent talking about history and
mythology, and if DeeDee avoided Ryan and swept off to the kitchen to do dishes
as soon as they finished eating, well, that was fine, he didn’t feel like
confronting her right now. Eventually he’d
have to, but at the moment he had deadlines.
Ryan headed up to his room to get back to work on the last painting for
the guide, grateful for a little time alone.
He’d get back to work on the Parthenon later.
Ryan checked his email before breaking out his paints. Fan mail, fan mail, hate mail, fan mail, hate
mail…he’d check those later. Penis
enlargement, and right after that was the equal-opportunity vaginal reconstruction
offer. Fuck, he seriously needed to work
on his filters. Next was—
An email from Ben?
Seriously? Ryan leaned in and
checked again. No, it was real, Benjamin
Franklin DeWitt, right there in his inbox.
The subject line read BOOK DEDICATION.
Holy shit, his hands were shaking. Ryan sat down at his desk and wavered over
the cursor for almost a minute before he finally clicked on the email.
This book would never have come about
without inspiration in the form of Ryan, the genesis of my very own love story.
That was all it said. No introduction, no sign off, nothing but the
dedication. Ryan checked quickly and saw
that Ben had sent it to Linda as well; she must have requested it. But why send it to him? Was this an invitation, or was it a final valediction? Surely if it was a goodbye there would have
been more to it…right?
Only one way to find out. Ryan fumbled for his phone, checked the
contacts and then swore when he remembered that Jasmine had just deleted Ben a
few hours ago. Fucking timing…Ryan put
Ben’s number back in, then tapped out a very simple text.
Im honored.
Was it too much? Too
weird? Not welcome? Ryan pressed send before he could think too
hard about it, then sat back and stared at the ceiling, his heart fluttering in
his chest like leaves caught in a tornado.
Oh fuck, please write back. Please write back, don’t tell me I did the
wrong thing, all I want to do is the right thing with you, for once, pleasepleaseplease…
His phone beeped.
Ryan immediately checked the message, then sighed with relief. As
well you should be. Awesome, that meant Ben wasn’t only not put off
by Ryan contacting him, he was being playful about it. Ryan hazarded another message.
Does this mean I can keep
texting you now?
The reply came back fast.
Texting
only. For now.
That was fine. Fuck
it, that was Christmas. Ryan grinned at the words, then looked over
at the last painting, only half-done. It
was the one of the Phantom, who had always been the most elusive character in
Janie’s universe, for all he was one of the most important ones. Maybe Ben would be interested in finding out
what had happened in the story. Got
it. How about sending a package?
What’s in it?
Ooh, curious, maybe a little suspicious. Ryan didn’t want the prospect to be something
Ben was afraid of. Surprise. Nothing big, I swear, no letters or videos or
pairs of my used boxers. ;)
As long as its underwear-free,
sure.
Sweet! Thank you.
And then, because that didn’t feel like enough, he added, Really. Thanks.
My pleasure.
Oh no, the pleasure was all Ryan’s.
So good to find out more about Ryan and be in his head for a change. I both look forward to and dread the epilogue in equal measures as it is more of Ryan and Ben but is the end of their written story.
ReplyDeleteWell, I hope the happy takes the lead over the dread. The epilogue should round things out nicely. Who knows, I may revisit these lovely gents some day. Thanks for reading, Avid!
DeleteThis was beautiful. Words escape me right now. I need to process...
ReplyDeleteAww, I <3 you.
DeleteI really loved their story, the ups and downs of it. I also really like that you made them needing "space" a positive thing. It wasn't this huge, "I need space." i want to break up with you and never see you again in life. kinda thing lol but a, "we need to slow down get our shit together and re-evaluate where we stand and go from there." kinda thing.
ReplyDeleteYou did a fabulous job and I'm so happy you shared it with us.
Definitely looking forward to reading more of your work.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Yael! I hope your Thanksgiving was great. Glad you like how the ups and downs worked out in the end. Epilogue yet to come, huzzah:)
Delete