Daniel's Sunday part 2


Ryan said that we are his, not just to us, but to a classmate at the store. I can't stop thinking about it. I so want it to be true. I turn to him at a stop light and he smiles. I get lost in his blue eyes. Kevin says, Green, just before the driver behind us honks his horn. Ryan laughs and sets his hand on my knee. I take a deep breath and try to concentrate on the road. He pats my leg and looks out his window, saying that he can't wait until bedtime. Neither can I.



Ryan stacks the paint in the garage. Kevin carries the light stuff into the house. Lys sits on the floor with her doll and her treasure of paint chips. She has already decided which colors she doesn't like, but choosing her favorite might take a while.

The day is getting on. I take out the bag of potatoes and peel four for dinner. We are four again, but a different four. Hopefully, a happier four.

I don't want the ripped up, torn apart, thrown out feeling that comes from missing part of the set. I want Ryan to stay forever.



Ryan lays plastic across the entire living room carpet. Tomorrow the kids will be helping him paint. When I look in his eyes, I can almost see what he sees, my house in dark colors and rich fabrics. He smiles and gets up for a kiss before setting back to work.

I want to help him. I want to be the one on the floor laughing as he gets tape stuck to his shirt. I want to slap the paint onto the walls, to take a hand in redecorating my house and remodeling my life. But I hurt too much.



I stir the meat in the pan, trying to ignore the ache. Breath in, breath out. Zen thoughts, as Ryan digs the infection out of my house, out of my life, out of my heart. Each scritch of the tape coming off the roll is paralyzing. Each burst of laughter from my normally stoic son hurts as well. How come I couldn't make him happy? How come I didn't even know he was sad?

How can I keep Ryan, who I so desperately need, if I can't even lift a hand to try? I am worthless in my own house.



Ryan is happy as he comes into the kitchen. He says I could have joined them, but that would have been impossible.

I say what I am feeling. I should have learned by now; it is always the wrong thing to say. But Ryan doesn't ignore it with a turn of his head, leaving an ache in my heart like Michelle always did. No, he bristles, gets angry, demands that I love him, now and forever.

My heart melts and the pain fades under the healing glow of his intense affection. Tomorrow I will wield a brush against my demons.



Dinner is ready, but I'm not ready for it. I tease Ryan and set him on the counter to kiss him thoroughly. His responses are eager like I am the very air he breathes. He pulls me closer and runs his hands up my back. I am so hot I can barely think.

The timer beeps. I already took the potatoes from the oven, but I let go of Ryan with a sigh. The sooner we eat dinner, the sooner the kids go to bed. And I want some time alone with Ryan to tell him of my new resolve.



We sit on the couch once the kids are in bed, Ryan's head against my shoulder. I know he wants to go to bed, but as much as I love holding him, I want him to know that I love him outside of bed, too.

I ask if I can help paint tomorrow. He gets up and runs off, telling me to wait. A moment later he sets a paint can on the plastic sheeting and opens it. I am presented with the lid and a paint-coated brush. I beat back my ghosts with a broad strip of rich blue.



I painted more than I thought I would. Each stroke was easier than the last. I didn't want to quit. I feel like I am growing again, reforming. My tattered edges are decorations for the sails of my new life. I am free.

Ryan takes the paint brush from me to wash. I wrap my arms around him as he stands at the sink and distract him with kisses on his ears and neck. I only back away when he threatens to be up all night cleaning the brush. I don't want that and, I am sure, neither does he.



Everything is put away. I sit on the couch and pull him down to straddle me. His tongue takes possession of my mouth and his hands slide under my shirt. I want his so bad. I want him right here. We are a ball of passion and lust, but a quiet one in case the kids come to investigate any noise. We loosen each other's clothes but don't take them off.

Once the living room is done, with all its furniture in place, I will send the kids for another sleepover, so we can be as noisy as we want.


A/N: I would like to write about meeting Ryan's sisters, but with the kids home…. I think this is a good place to end, for now.

Look for Summer Snapshots later today. It is Seth and Steven (from A Prodigal's Dilemma and Waiting for Valentine's) as they take the Grand Tour. And I think it's time for some other-world fantasy (rather than contemporary like Fairy Tale), so on Saturday look for The Prince and the Sorcerer as the next oneshot in MM Goodness.