The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(22)

Another failed attempt at conversation. He still hadn’t breached the twenty-word mark. If he kept this up, she might have to dub him Big Mike because he was reminding her of her father. And Chris and Matt, for that matter. Thank God for Benny or she would’ve grown up believing no man ever spoke unless he had to for survival.

At least the chicken tasted good. Crispy on the outside, tender inside. Flaky biscuits and fries, to boot. Not the healthiest meal, but the salty, greasy comfort food hit the spot.

Emmy pushed her broccoli around the plate while Ryan continued eating and staring into space. Steffi’s plan to rebuild some kind of friendship was going nowhere, just like that broccoli. Her appetite waned as she considered the most polite way to make a break for it.

Molly cleared her throat. “I’ve never been good at visualizing a room. In truth, I never much cared about decorating. We didn’t entertain often, so there were always more important reasons to spend or save. Maybe it’s my age, or just being tired of staring at the same old stuff around here, but I’m excited about our little project.” She then leaned toward Steffi. “Once the room is done, we hope to see Ryan more. He spends too much time upstairs poring over case files.”

Ryan tapped his silverware on the table and shot his mother a look that could get him arrested for assault.

“Mom also says Dad’s always working,” Emmy moaned, gazing longingly at her buttered roll.

Molly raised her brows at her son, then turned her palms up as if to say, “See the problem?”

Ignoring his mother’s silent reproach, Ryan spoke to Emmy. “I’m sorry I’ve been busy, but I have to make a good impression on my new boss. In a couple of months, I’ll have a better handle on things, and we’ll plan some fun activities. For now, you should focus on your transition in school.”

“School’s boring,” Emmy huffed. “When are we going sailing like you promised? It’s almost September.”

“That sounds like fun,” Molly encouraged. “We can pack a picnic.”

“Soon.” Ryan didn’t spare Steffi a glance, but his pause and stiffness hinted that he was trying hard not to make eye contact with her before he smiled at Emmy. “Do you have a new friend you’d like to invite?”

Steffi’s heart sank right along with little Emmy’s chin. It was as if the pressure to make new friends grabbed the kid and pushed her head down.

Emmy slid a gaze at her dad. “Let’s bring Miss Lockwood.”

Before Steffi could decline, Ryan said, “Honey, you should bring someone your age.”

“Why?” Emmy said, now raising that chin in defiance. “I want to bring Miss Lockwood.”

“Thank you, sweetie, but your dad is right,” Steffi interjected. “Kids around here love to go sailing. Is there anyone in your class that you’d like to get to know better?”

“No.” Emmy slunk down in her chair, slipping a quick glance at Ryan before stealing a bite of that roll she’d been eyeing.

“Emmy, don’t push me.” He took it from her plate and pointed at her broccoli with his fork.

“You said I could bring a friend, and she’s my friend.” Emmy pointed at Steffi. “And she knows how to sail, right?”

Steffi nodded, having learned from Ryan. She’d learned a lot from Ryan on that boat, actually. Things she’d practically forgotten, it had been so long since she’d had a date.

Ryan sat, fork and knife in hand, his gaze darting around the room, seeking some escape. Then the house phone rang, startling everyone.

“I’ll get it.” Molly rose and went into the kitchen. Two seconds later she returned and handed the phone to Emmy. “It’s your mother.”

Emmy’s face brightened as she leaped off her seat, grabbed the receiver, and started walking toward the living room. “Hi, Mommy. Guess what? I’m going sailing with Daddy and our special friend, Miss Lockwood. You should come with us.”

Ryan’s silverware clattered to the table. “Oh, for the love of God.”

He glared at his mother.

“What? I didn’t encourage that invitation,” Molly defended.

“I’m certain I never referred to Steffi as my ‘special’ friend.” He scowled. “Inviting her to dinner and sailing is sending weird signals to Emmy . . . and now to Val.”

“Don’t take that tone with me in my house. I’ve got enough to handle now with your father.” Molly stood and took her plate to the kitchen. When she didn’t return, Steffi tossed her napkin on the table.

“Ryan,” Steffi sighed, “don’t fight with your mom. She’s only trying to be polite. I should’ve declined the dinner invitation. I’m sorry.”

“Why’d you accept?” He leaned forward on his elbows. “This can’t be any more comfortable for you than it is for me.”

Her mind riffled through her options and, after thinking about Peyton, settled on the truth. “I like your mom and your daughter. I hoped staying would melt more of the ice between you and me.”

He sat back, one arm dropping to his lap, the other hand twisting his glass on the table. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

She shrugged. “I’m not asking you on a date, Ryan. I’m just suggesting we try to be friends. It’s a small town. It’d be nice not to carry this sick feeling in my stomach every time I see you.”