Just One of the Guys(72)

“Ryan!” cries my mother, bustling out of the kitchen. “I remember you saying that you’re a surgeon! How lovely! Your parents must be so proud!”

“She’s using the Father Donnelly voice,” Jack comments.

“She doesn’t want Chas to blow it. She’s always wanted a doctor in the family,” Lucky answers.

I shoot my brothers a glance that promises pain and humiliation as my mother continues to babble.

“Thank you,” Ryan says. “They’re quite proud, yes.” He squeezes my hand. “And eager to meet Chastity, of course. You’ve raised a wonderful daughter, Mrs. O’Neill.” Lucky makes a choking noise.

“Oh! Call me Betty!” Mom cries merrily. “I’ve got to stir the gravy!” Another car pulls up in front of the house, and Mom peers out the window. Her voice drops out of the Father Donnelly range into the General Patton baritone we’re more accustomed to hearing. “Harry’s here,” she announces. “Boys. Behave. Do you understand me?” Her voice pitches up and she bustles to the kitchen door. “Harry! Hello! Come meet my children!”

Harry Thomaston is a handsome man, shorter than my father but robust, with silver hair and dark eyes. He kisses my mother on the cheek. “Hello everyone.”

We all shake hands and exchange pleasantries, albeit with a considerable lack of sincerity. Harry looks at my mother with adoration plain in his eyes. It doesn’t feel good. None of us really believes that Mom and Dad will actually split up, despite their divorce. They’re too embedded with each other. But here she is, clucking and cooing like a pigeon, fluttering about Harry in an all too cheery way.

Ryan knows my parents are divorced, but he doesn’t know the details or personalities involved. “Ryan Darling,” he says, shaking Harry’s hand. “I’m Chastity’s significant other.”

“Lucky man,” Harry says gallantly.

I can’t help but notice that Hayden is whispering into Trevor’s ear and smiling. Without thinking, I slip my arm around Ryan’s waist.

And so it begins. My one-sided contest of who makes a cuter couple.

My mother forces the kids to come upstairs and meet Harry. More introductions are made. Trevor swoops Dylan up in his arms, introduces him to Hayden as his godson, allows Sophie to climb on his back and mess up his hair. Clearly, Trevor is winning the “best with children” title.

To strike back, I summon Claire. “What do you think of my boyfriend?” I whisper loudly enough for all to hear. “Isn’t he so handsome?” Claire bursts into giggles, as I thought she would, and Ryan smiles gamely. Graham pleads with Trevor to be held, and Trev obliges. Therefore, I grab Christopher. “Guess what, Chris? Ryan reattaches limbs for a living.”

“Awesome!” Christopher breathes with admiration.

“That’s not actually true,” Ryan says. “I’m not an orthopedist, though I assist with reattachments here and there.”

“He’s more of a blood and guts man,” I say to my nephew. Ryan frowns. Yes, he’s a little stiff around the kids. He asks Chris about school, a subject guaranteed to suck the life out of any ten-year-old. But who can blame poor Ryan? My nieces and nephews are like a school of dolphins, leaping, diving, shrieking, eating. They must be overwhelming to a man from a small, quiet family.

“They’re all savages,” I whisper in Ryan’s ear, having to stand on tiptoe to do it. Well, I don’t really need to, but I do, just to reinforce the point that Ryan is taller than Trevor. I see Trev looking and take the opportunity to stroke Ryan’s neck. See? He’s a great guy, good-looking and smart, and I’m crazy about him. And the feeling is mutual. I’m well aware of my immaturity, but damn it! I can’t help it. I hate Perfect Hayden. She has yet to speak to me, except for the initial required hello. I feel like slugging her.

Jack and Sarah offer to supervise the kids in the kitchen. I envy them. Today’s a day I’d really like to be with the kids. It’s so awkward—Ryan being so bleeping polite, Perfect Hayden flipping her well-behaved hair, another man touching my mother.

Nonetheless, I wedge myself around the table with the other adults. Mark, I notice, sits next to Elaina, who doesn’t protest, shoot daggers at him or make that cool hissing noise. Ryan’s next to me—he holds my chair with the manners of a prince—and Perfect Hayden scoots around Tara to make sure she gets the place next to Trev. There’s an awkward moment when Mom ushers Harry to the head of the table. My brothers freeze, and Harry takes the hint. “I’ll sit next to you, Betty. Matthew, here, take this seat,” he offers. I give him points for grace under pressure. Mom shoots the boys her “I’ll beat you later” glare.

“So, Harry,” I say gamely, “Mom says you’re retired?”

“I am, Chastity,” he says, turning my way with a smile. “I recently sold my company, which made a tiny part of a computer chip. Not the most interesting work in the world to talk about, but I liked it. And now I’m trying to do more traveling.”

“Great,” I say, stifling a sigh. A rich retiree who likes to travel. Dad is really blowing it. I take a bite of the tender pork. It’s fantastic. Unbelievable.

“Do you have any children?” Ryan asks.

“I have two daughters,” he says. “Martha, who’s forty-three and has a twelve-year-old son, and Greta, who’s thirty-seven and has three children, two boys and a girl. And you, Ryan? Any children?”