In the Stillness(70)

Bill lets out a low chuckle, “Ah, Natalie . . . I guess . . . Ryker had just come back from Jackson Hole, and things were finally looking okay for him, but I was still scared, you know? I just figured that the chances of you two running into each other were pretty slim and I wanted to let you know he was really doing okay.” He sighs and continues, “I don’t know, you looked so happy, Kid, I just figured we better leave well enough alone” He shakes his head and looks to the trees.

It occurs to me, sickeningly so, that Bill has been carrying around guilt of his own.

“None of that was your fault, you know . . .” Instinctively I place my hand on his shoulder. He reaches up and grabs hold of it.

“I know. I just wish I’d been more prepared to help him somehow.”

A chuckle escapes me. “No shit. You and me both.”

Bill brings three chairs around the fire pit. As I sit, it’s clear Ryker is taking his time in the kitchen to give his dad and me more time to talk.

“I really want to thank you,” Bill says as he settles into his chair. “And I don’t just mean for all the stuff that happened at the end, I mean all the stuff before that. You were good to my son, Natalie, and that’s the most I could have asked for. You were tough. He needed that. I did too, I guess.”

Pushing back my cuticles with my index finger, I can’t bear to look him in the eyes right now. “I loved him, Bill.”

His tone darkens slightly. “For a lot of people that’s not enough, you know.”

“For me, back then, it was everything . . .”

It’s been so easy to focus on the mechanics of Ryker and me—the good, the bad, the worse—that I’ve forced myself to forget the intensity of the love I felt for him. It swallowed me completely, which is why I carry around this ten-ton bag of remorse over leaving him. I was still in love with him when I left.

“Ryker told me a little about the fight you two got in while he was still on probation.” My morbid curiosity takes over.

“Yeah,” Bill scratches his head for a few seconds before his eyes—absolutely identical to Ryker’s—fade a little, “I was afraid I was going to lose him, Natalie. He got lucky when he crashed my car. He’d only been on the road about two minutes and didn’t get much speed. I knew he needed to just get the hell out of here for a while, you know?”

“I really do.” I nod.

“Anyway, the fight itself wasn’t that bad. He screamed at me about a lot of things, said I made up lies to you about him so you’d leave him . . . all kinds of things.”

“Jesus.” I close my eyes, almost wishing I hadn’t asked. But, just because I don’t ask doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

Seeming to sense a need for change in direction, Bill leans forward a bit in his chair. “How are you doing, Natalie, really?”

“Well,” I lean back, crossing my arms and legs, “I’m sure I’ll be fine. Things are just a little rough right now, you know?”

“I’m sorry to hear about the divorce. I don’t know the details, but it’s always a tough choice.”

Clearly Ryker’s talked a bit about me with his dad. Okay, then . . .

I think Bill and Ryker’s mom, Julie, divorced when Ryker was about my boys’ age. From what Ryker told me, Julie was incredibly depressed and just up and left one day. It shattered Bill to pieces. Maybe that’s why I never really felt like I meshed with her back then—I didn’t understand how someone could just . . . go. Today, we could probably share a bottle of wine and compare notes.

“Thanks, yeah, it was a tough one. Luckily it seems fairly amicable, for now. We filed the official paperwork on June first, so . . . now we just wait a while, I guess.”

As Ryker finishes up and walks outside, Bill continues our heart-to-heart.

“Sorry to hear about your boy, Oliver.”

My boy.

Bill regards the simple name of my child with the same fatherly care he showed me long ago.

“Thanks. It’s going to be a long road but he’s tough, so is Max.”

I take a few minutes to explain Oliver’s condition to Bill, and to talk to both of them about his therapies. Max joins his brother for all sessions, is picking up sign language quite quickly, and is learning the basics of his new life with his twin. He has to be sure that Oliver is looking at him when he speaks, and needs to look out for him whenever possible—like on a busy playground. Any time I’ve peeked in their bedroom while they’re playing, or during “quiet time,” it seems business as usual. Just boys being boys and brothers being brothers.

“Sounds like you’re getting things under control the best you can.” Bill leans forward and focuses on my face.

I shrug. “Nothing else you can do but roll up your sleeves and dig in, I guess.”

Run away. You could always run away. But, remember, you’re better than that.

“Dad, I told Natalie she should bring her boys by the farm sometime. Don’t you think they’d like that?”

I watch as Bill’s carefully chosen words form in his mouth. “You’re right, son. They’re boys. It’s dirt. What’s not to like?”

We all laugh and enjoy the rest of the sunset.

By the time the mosquitoes are in full force, I stand to excuse myself for the evening.