Fading

  "Ryan was just telling me about the bar he owns," my dad tells my mother.

  "A bar?"

  Before I allow my mother to make some snarky comment, I jump in, "So, when are the two of you leaving for Colorado?" My parents own a cabin in Aspen and go there every year after Christmas.

  They begin to talk about what they have planned for their trip this year, and I sit back and listen to them go on and on. It's pretty much the same every year.

  As I take the last sip of my wine, my father says, "Bunny, why don't you show Ryan around. I need to talk with your mother about something. We will leave in about thirty minutes."

  "Okay, sure."

  I walk Ryan around the house and then outside to show him the view of the Sound.

  "I'm sorry about that," I say.

  "About what?"

  "They can be a lot. They're pretty pretentious."

  "Candace, no one has perfect parents. Everyone's flawed in some way."

  We walk back to the covered patio and sit down on one of the benches. I tie my scarf tighter around my neck, and Ryan wraps his arm around my shoulders.

  "So, you grew up here in Shoreline?" he asks.

  "Yeah. In this very house. The Kelley's, who live across the street, have a daughter that's the same age as me. We used to be best friends when we were growing up."

  "And now?"

  "And now all I really have is Jase, Mark...and you."

  "What about your roommate?"

  "Kimber? We used to be really close, but not so much anymore."

  "So what happened to all your friends from high school?"

  "They've moved on. Applying to grad schools, getting married, making a life for themselves. Most of the kids here wind up becoming people like my parents. More concerned about their image and what social circle they are in. It's not me, so I never cared enough to stay in touch with anyone."

  I feel Ryan squeeze my shoulder and pull me in tighter, and I'm starting to feel uncertain about all this. Him. Having him here with my parents. Talking about myself. Him touching me. I pull away and stand up, needing a little space to try and calm my nerves.

  "We should go back inside," I say.

  Walking back into the house, my father calls from the library, "Candace, could you come in here?"

  "Yeah, just a second," I holler back. I turn to Ryan and say, "I'll be right back. Make yourself at home."

  "Do you want me to come with you?"

  "No, it's okay."

  When I walk into the library, both of my parents are waiting for me, and my father tells me to shut the door behind me. I do so, anxiously wondering what this is all about.

  As I walk further into the room, my dad says, "Well, I just got off the phone with a friend of mine who works in admissions at Columbia. He owed me a favor and was able to pull some strings to get you a conditional acceptance for the fall semester."

  "What?"

  "This is wonderful news, isn't it, darling?" my mother says.

  "I'm sorry, but what is this all about?"

  "Well, we know that you've been busy finishing up at U-Dub, so your father and I thought we would help you out by taking care of this."

  "Taking care of what?" My head is spinning, and I can't believe what I am hearing. Are they serious right now?

  "Honey, you look upset. You should be happy—"

  Raising my voice I say, "Happy about what?! Happy that you don't trust me to make decisions for myself? Happy that I know you don't think I'm good enough? Happy that you feel I am so pathetic that you have to go behind my back to try and control me?"

  "Candace, lower your voice please," my father says sternly.

  "No! I can't believe you did this!"

  "I would have hoped Thanksgiving would have given you something to think about, but clearly you are determined to make a fool out of yourself. And to top it all off, you bring home a boy that works in a bar. Honestly, I don't know what you're thinking."

  "He owns that bar, Mother," I spat.

  "It's not you. This path you're leading yourself down is not for you," my mother says.

  "It's not for you. You're too goddamn judgmental to ever live like I do. I'm happy. I wish you could just see that and accept that." I look to my dad to try and grasp why he would do this. I always thought that he understood me, but he just stares at me with an unfaltering look. I slowly shake my head in disbelief and ask him, "Why?"

  "Your mother is right, dear. We thought you would come to your senses, but clearly you are stuck in this fantasy of yours. You have a name to uphold."

  My eyes start to blur, and when I blink, the tears fall.

  "I just don't understand you. You should be thanking your father, not pouting."

  "You are unbelievable, Mother!" I continue to yell as I say, "I'm not a child! You can't just step in and take away everything I have worked so hard for during these past four years! How can you call yourself a mother? You're nothing! You say you're embarrassed by me, well it goes both ways." When I stop to take a breath, I see Ryan rushing in.

  Holding out his hand, he says, "We're leaving. Now."

  "Excuse me, but this is a private matter," my mother says to him condescendingly.

  Looking at Ryan and the anger in his eyes, I can't seem to stop the tears that are falling. I'm shocked that he would care enough to come in here and stop this fight.

  "Candace, if you walk out, it's over. Don't come back. We refuse to sit back and watch you ruin your life." I look at my mother and can't believe she even went there.

  I shift my eyes to my father's. "Daddy?"

  "We're done letting you play games, bunny. No more."

  I look at the both of them, and I feel myself falling apart. My own parents, threatening me and trying to control me. Looking at them is actually making my stomach turn, so I do the only thing I know to do. I grab Ryan's hand and let him take me away.

  His grip on me is tight as he walks us through the living room, grabbing our coats, and leading me outside to his jeep. He doesn't say a word, but the look on his face tells me he's pissed. He opens the car door for me, and I begin to feel lightheaded. I reach forward and brace my free hand on the side of the seat, trying to hold myself up and clear the haze in my vision when Ryan grabs me and pulls me into his arms. I cling to him tightly and start sobbing into his chest. I can barely grasp what just happened. But, I know I can't go back. They made that clear.

  After a few minutes, I'm able to calm myself down enough to stop the tears. My breathing is still erratic, and I'm so embarrassed that Ryan had to see all of that. I can't even look him in the eyes, so I keep my head down when I finally loosen my grip on him and pull away. He kisses the top of my head before gripping my waist and helping me into the car.

  The drive home is quiet. I'm still trying to process what happened back there. I never thought my parents would ever go that far. I don't need their money or their lifestyle, and the fact that they thought it meant that much to me that they could threaten me with it proves that they don't know me at all.

  When we get back to my house, I am thoroughly drained. I curl up on the couch and kick my heels off and onto the floor. Ryan walks into the kitchen, and when he comes back out, he has a beer and a glass of wine. He hands me the glass, and I gulp half of it down quickly before setting it on the coffee table. Sitting down on the couch, he leans back on the side armrest, pulling me between his legs so that my back is resting on his chest. He wraps one arm around my waist while his other hand is threading through my hair. I can feel his steady breathing by the rise and fall of his chest.

  This closeness that I feel with Ryan is a lot for me to process. Closing my eyes, I take a slow, deep breath and shift to my side, resting my cheek on his sternum. I listen to his heart as it beats rapidly.

  "You okay?" His words are the first spoken since we left my parents house. I know I can't talk around the huge lump in my throat, so I just shake my head. Ryan rests his chin on the top of my head, and when I begin to cry again, he tighte
ns his hold on me.

  I feel safe enough with him to finally have this release. I've spent years making excuses for my parents, just brushing off and accepting their behavior. But, this...this cuts deep. My whole life I've been trying to make them proud of me, but I just can't be what they want me to be. I can't even think about trying to bottle up this pain, so I just let it out.

  Ryan stayed over for a few hours before leaving me last night. We barely spoke at all as he held me, but we didn't need to talk. I never feel as if I need to be anything I'm not when I am with him. I don't even want to think about what last night would have been like if he hadn't been there.

  He told me I didn't have to go with him to his mom's house, that he would stay with me. But I really need the distraction. So, we are making the four-hour drive to Cannon Beach in Oregon to spend the next few days with his family. I'm nervous about meeting everyone. Ryan has a large family, something I have never been around. All I know is the dysfunction I grew up around with my mother and father.

  "You're quiet over there," Ryan says as he drives through the tall, thick pine trees of the mountains.

  "Just a little nervous."

  "Don't be." He gives my knee a soft squeeze of reassurance.

  On our long drive, I try not to worry too much about what they will think of me. Ryan does a good job of distracting me with conversation and listening to music. After a while, I decide to lean back and take a nap since I had a restless night of sleep.

  When we pull up to the large, two-story, dark grey beach house with a driveway and street full of cars, I start wringing my hands and fingers together. He parks the jeep, steps out, and walks around to my side, opening my door.

  Grabbing both of my hands, he says, "Don't be so nervous. Just relax."

  I nod my head, but I worry they might think I'm weird or rude if I'm too quiet. I worry that I don't look nice enough, or maybe that I look too nice. Ryan helps me out of the car, and when I start smoothing down the pencil skirt of my black cap-sleeved dress, he starts laughing.

  "Why are you laughing at me?"

  "Because I've never seen you so wound up before."

  He reaches in the jeep and grabs the bottle of Pahlmeyer Merlot that I bought for his mother. We start walking to the front door when I tug against his hand. Turning around, he cocks his head slightly and gives me a concerned look.

  "Ryan...I don't do well around a lot of people," I hesitantly confess to him.

  He places his hand on my shoulder and says, "My family will love you, but if you feel that uncomfortable, we can go. Just say the word."

  "No, I want to meet them, I'm just..." I feel like I am stumbling over my words when he says, "Hey, I'm right here. No worries, okay?"

  Letting out a sigh, I say, "Okay."

  He takes my hand in his and starts leading me up the wet drive. When we walk in, I'm almost knocked down when two little boys dart through the foyer, chasing each other with plastic swords.

  Ryan chuckles at the kids and says to me, "Come on," as he takes me through the house. The walls are filled with family photographs. It's a beautiful house, not extravagant like the one I grew up in.

  Laughter echoes through the large house, and as we turn the corner into the kitchen, I see three women huddled over the counter looking at a tabloid magazine. One of them looks up as we enter the room, and a warm smile crosses her face when she sees Ryan.

  Stretching out her arms and wrapping them around him, she says, "Finally, you made it. We missed you this morning."

  Never letting go of my nervous hand, he embraces her with his free arm. When I start to loosen my grip to allow him his other arm, he tightens his hold on me.

  After she lets go of him, she turns her attention to me, and Ryan introduces us. "Mom, this is Candace."

  "I am so glad to finally meet you, dear." And just like she did with Ryan, she pulls me in for a warm hug, but I'm a little distracted by her word finally. Has Ryan mentioned me to her before a few days ago when he called to tell her he was bringing me? Before I can think about it too much, Ryan's hand leaves mine as the other two women are hugging me and introducing themselves as his aunts. Little kids start flooding into the kitchen screaming for their Uncle Ryan. His mother starts calling off the names of all the children, but I can't even focus on what she is saying because I'm overwhelmed. I look over to Ryan, and he's holding two little girls, one in each arm. One of the girls is tugging on his hair while he is pecking kisses on the other one's ear, making her squeal loudly. Seeing him like this makes me laugh at how fun and easygoing he is. Although he shows these traits around me, he has started to become more protective lately.

  It's a whirlwind as I'm introduced to all of Ryan's cousins and their spouses, along with his two uncles. Everyone is talking and hugging me, and I know there is no way I will remember anyone's name aside from his mother's, which I'd already known.

  All the noise and touching is beginning to overpower me, and when I look to see where Ryan is, he is engulfed in a conversation with two of his cousins while he is still holding one of the little girls.

  Needing some space to regroup, I turn to his mother and quietly ask, "Excuse me, Donna. Where is the restroom?"

  She directs me to one that is on the other side of the house, and I quickly make my way through the chaos. When I shut the door behind me, I walk over, sit down on the lid of the toilet, and embrace the calm. I take a few minutes to compose myself when someone knocks on the door.

  I stand up to go open the door, and when I do, Ryan is standing there.

  "Everything okay? When I looked up you were gone."

  "Yeah, just needed a moment to myself."

  "Sorry about that," he says.

  "It's okay. I'm just not used to..."

  Ryan runs his hands down my arms and says, "I know. Do you need a few more minutes?"

  "No, I'm fine."

  Holding my hand, he begins to walk me back to the kitchen where all the commotion has died down a bit. Most of the little kids are now watching a movie in the other room as a few of the guys sit on the couches, drinking and laughing about whatever they are talking about.

  I turn my attention to Ryan when he hands me a glass of red wine, and I give him a smile. I appreciate that he does things like that for me without needing to ask, that he pays attention. I used to feel uneasy around him, but over the past month or so, that feeling has waned, and I have become more relaxed when we're together.

  "Come with me," he says in my ear, and he leads me out of the room. We wander through the house as he shows me around. The house backs up to the beach, and the view is absolutely breathtaking. When we walk past the formal dining room, two of his cousins are sitting at the table chatting. One of the girls looks up at me and invites me to join them. I look to Ryan, and he says, "I'll just be in the other room helping my mom out."

  I nod my head and walk over to sit down as he leaves the room.

  Not remembering their names, I say, "I'm sorry, but with all the introductions, I can't remember your names."

  "I'm Tori, and this is Jenna."

  "So, you live in Seattle too?" Jenna asks.

  "Yeah, I grew up there. What about you, where do you guys live?"

  "We both live in Astoria, but my sister, Katie, lives in Portland," Tori says.

  The three of us begin to talk and get to know each other. The two of them, along with Katie, are the daughters of Ryan's two aunts. They are all married with kids and live in Oregon. They told me that Ryan is the only one in the family that lives in Washington, that he moved there after high school to go to college and just never came back. They seem genuinely interested in me and ask a lot of questions about college and my dancing.

  "Tori, Madison's sick," her sister says as she comes into the room.

  Tori asks, "What's wrong with her?"

  "She was upstairs throwing up. I know there has been a stomach bug going around at her preschool, so I'm hoping that's all it is. I laid her down in Ryan's room, and she's sleepin
g now."

  "Well, just let her rest. As long as she isn't running a fever, I wouldn't worry too much. I think Aunt Donna actually has some leftover Pedialite from when Connor got sick."

  Turning to me, she says, "I'm sorry, it's been so crazy today, and I didn't meet you earlier. I'm Katie, Tori's sister."

  "I'm Candace."

  "So, Ryan finally brings a girl home. I can't believe it," she says.

  I see Tori give Katie a wide-eyed, annoyed look, and Katie dramatically says, "What?!"

  Jenna and Tori both shake their heads at her, and I'm beginning to feel awkward, so I just ask, "What do you mean?"

  Surely he's brought girls home before. From what Mark has told me about what he's heard from Ryan's friends, he has been through a slew of women.

  Jenna tells me that all the women in the family are constantly giving him a hard time for never bringing a girl home, that I'm the first one.

  "Well, we're just friends. Honestly, I think he only invited me because he felt bad that I was going to spend Christmas by myself."

  The three of them give each other curious looks when I say this, which doesn't do much for my comfort level. I feel like they know something I don't, so I just come right out and ask, "Am I missing something here?"

  Tori shakes her head at Jenna as Jenna leans in and quietly says, "I don't think that's why he invited you."

  "What do you mean?"

  Before anyone has a chance to say anything, Ryan's mom walks in and jokingly says, "You girls look like you're up to some gossip." Looking over at me, she says, "I've been so busy all day, I haven't had a chance to visit with you. Let's go chat."

  Donna's personality reminds me a lot of Ryan's. She's not intimidating and seems fairly laidback and casual. She has a cute short bob of light blonde hair, and is tall and slender. She's dressed casually for the day in black pants and a red cable-knit sweater.

  I stand up and grab my glass of wine as I follow her through the living room where I see Ryan helping one of his nephews put together a puzzle. When he looks up at me as I pass through, he gives me an endearing grin as I smile back. His mother and I walk out of the room into a quiet study.