Chapter 4 - The Arrival of Ryan
When Ryan walked through the front door of my parents’ house, he didn't look like an emergency department nurse who had just finished a twelve-hour shift. He looked like a man who was ready to tear the world apart with his bare hands.
His scrubs were wrinkled, his eyes were bloodshot, and he still carried the faint smell of antiseptic and hospital coffee. But when he saw my father standing in the kitchen doorway holding a glass of water with shaking hands, Ryan stopped dead in his tracks.
"Ryan," my father began, attempting to adopt a tone of solemn, masculine sympathy. "Thank God you're here. The fire... it's a terrible tragedy. We were just trying to organize things so—"
Ryan didn't let him finish. He took three long strides across the foyer, grabbed my father by the lapels of his fleece vest, and pinned him against the oak wainscoting with a force that rattled the framed family portraits on the wall.
"Where were my children at two o'clock this morning, Arthur?" Ryan whispered, his voice dangerously low, vibrating with a rage I had never heard in the eight years we had been married.
"Ryan! Let go of him!" my mother shrieked, running out of the kitchen with a dish towel clutched in her hands. "He’s your father-in-law!"
"Where were they?" Ryan roared, tightening his grip until my father’s heels lifted an inch off the floor.
"Ryan, stop!" I called out softly, stepping out of the master bedroom and pulling the door closed behind me so as not to wake Mason and Ellie.
Ryan looked over his shoulder at me. When his eyes met mine—seeing my red-rimmed eyes, my ash-stained forehead, and my bare feet sticking out of oversized sneakers—his expression cracked. He let go of my father, who slumped against the wall, gasping for air and clutching his neck.
Ryan crossed the hall and pulled me into his arms. He held me so tightly I could barely breathe, burying his face in my hair, his shoulders trembling.
"I’m sorry," he choked out into my neck. "I’m so sorry I wasn't there when the alarm went off. I couldn't get to my locker... the trauma bay was flooded with a six-car pileup... I didn't know until three..."
"They're okay," I wept, holding him back with everything I had left. "They're sleeping. They're safe now."
Ryan pulled back, examining my face, before turning his gaze toward the dining room.
The long dining table was covered in ivory tablecloths, three-tiered cake stands, personalized favor boxes tied with pink satin ribbons, and large arrangements of white peonies. Vanessa was sitting in one of the dining chairs, her arms crossed, glaring at us while Brad stood over her, whispering into his cell phone.
"A baby shower," Ryan said, the words dripping with incredible disgust. "Our house is a pile of ash, my kids slept in a running car in December, and you people were setting up for a party."
"It’s not just a party, Ryan!" Vanessa snapped, standing up and holding her stomach. "It’s my baby shower! It’s been scheduled for three months! People are flying in from Chicago! What was I supposed to do, cancel everything because Claire’s house had a wiring issue?"
"A wiring issue?" Ryan took a step toward her, his fists clenched at his sides. "The roof collapsed, Vanessa! Mason’s room was directly under the attic draft! If Claire hadn't woken up to the smell of smoke when she did, my son would be dead!"
Brad stepped between Ryan and Vanessa, holding up his hands defensively. "Woah, woah, man, back off. Look, we all feel bad about the house, okay? It’s a bad situation. But yelling at my pregnant wife isn't going to fix your roof. We paid three thousand dollars for the catering today. We just want to get through the afternoon, and then we can figure out a middle ground."
"There is no middle ground," Grandma’s voice cut through the tension as she walked out of the study, wearing a clean blouse she kept in her car and carrying her thick leather folder.
May you like
She looked at Brad, then at my parents, then directly at Vanessa.
"The catering company has just been notified that the property is under active legal dispute," Grandma said calmly. "I spoke with the owner five minutes ago. The delivery vans have been turned around. The event is canceled."
