His Girl Next Door: The Army Ranger's Return / New York's Finest Rebel / The Girl from Honeysuckle Farm. Trish Wylie
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he was weak, but he’d always been the tough guy, the one who could be counted on physically and mentally in the worst of situations.
And it wasn’t like it was only his arm troubling him. His head was messed up, too, especially after his behavior earlier.
Somehow he’d managed to screw today up. Jessica was supposed to be the easy part, the simple meeting of a friend. How wrong he’d been.
Why was being back so hard? He was so good at being a soldier, it came so naturally to him. Ryan swallowed and looked out the window.
Being a dad had come naturally to him once, too.
So had being a husband.
But that felt like another lifetime ago. Like he could just hold on to it as a long-distant memory, but it was starting to fade. Fast.
Ryan jumped at a knock on the car window.
He cursed, then pushed the button to wind down the window and acknowledge George’s teacher. “You frightened the life out of me!”
“Sorry.” The young man smiled, holding out his hand.
Ryan opened the door and got out, shaking the teacher’s hand and leaning against the side of his car.
“It’s Shaun, right?”
The teacher nodded. Ryan had only met him once before, on his first day back, but he’d liked him straight away.
“I saw you sitting here and thought I’d see how you were getting on with George,” Shaun said.
Ryan shrugged. What did he say to that?
“Not great.” There seemed no point in not telling the truth.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“You know, once upon a time I knew exactly what to say to make him laugh, just to be there for him. You know?” he said.
Shaun gave him a kind smile.
“It’s not so easy anymore. Figuring out what the right thing to do with him is hard work,” Ryan admitted.
“I’m sure you’re doing everything you can. Just stick with it and do what feels right.”
Ryan nodded, shoulders heaving as he exhaled. He wasn’t usually one to open up, to talk to someone about how he felt, but George seemed to genuinely like his teacher. And he appreciated the offer of help.
“I guess I’ve found it hard to know what to say to him since his mom died. Until now, I’ve taken the easy way out and let my parents do the hard work.”
It had indeed been the coward’s way out and he was man enough to admit it. Especially now he could see firsthand the effect it had had on his boy.
“What matters is that you’re here now and you want to do something about it.” The teacher held out his hand again and patted Ryan on the shoulder with the other.
“You’ll get there, and if you need someone to talk to—either of you—I’m here. Okay?”
“Thanks.”
Shaun gestured toward the door. “I saw him by his locker before, I’m sure he’ll be out soon.”
Ryan watched the teacher walk off and got back in the car.
When he’d been redeployed the last time, he was still grieving for his wife. He’d held his son at the airport, hugged him tight and then walked away. Seeing his own mother hold his boy had left an image in his mind that had never faded. An image that told him George would be happier without his dad. That a messed-up, grieving, unsure father was nothing compared to the steady, loving influence of grandparents.
And then every month he’d stayed away it had simply been easier to keep telling himself it was true. That it was better for George, and it was sure easier for him. Because he didn’t have to see the similarities to his wife in his son’s face on a daily basis. Didn’t have to remember what it had been like when they’d been a family, the three of them. Happy and content.
But now … Now George was, well, not a little boy anymore. He’d gone from a sweet nine-year-old to an almost twelve-year-old with a voice on the verge of cracking and an attitude to boot. It was obvious he loved his grandparents, but his feelings toward his father were a whole other matter entirely.
If he even felt anything for his father anymore.
But what had Ryan expected? To come home and pick up where they’d left off? He’d been a fool to stay away so long, but he wasn’t going to run away again. He was going to stand up, take it on the chin and accept the fact that he’d failed his son.
The car door opened. Ryan sat up straighter and looked into the eyes of his son.
George scowled at him and slammed the door, school bag on his knee.
“Hey.”
George ignored him.
“Good day at school?”
Ryan received a shrug in return before George slumped down low and stared out the window.
He turned the ignition and pulled out into the traffic.
Part of Ryan wanted to explode. To pull over and grab his son and shake him until he listened. To tell him what he’d been through, how much he hurt, what he’d seen during wartime that had made his stomach turn.
“George …”
But he couldn’t tell him off. Because his son had done nothing wrong. He was just behaving how any hurt child of his age would. By dishing out the silent treatment. So Ryan clenched all his fingers around the wheel and kept his eyes on the road and his mouth shut.
George didn’t seem to have noticed he’d even been spoken to. But a letter every other week and a dad absent for almost two years since his last trip home meant that Ryan deserved the silent treatment. The short time he’d spent with him between deployments the last time had been strained and emotional, but George had been a lot younger then. More accepting and so excited to have his dad back.
So right now he needed to wait it out, or figure out a way to make amends. It wasn’t as if he could jump up and down and insist the boy behave. George was on his way to becoming a young man, and if he didn’t fix things between them soon, he might lose his chance forever.
But this wasn’t the army. And George wasn’t his subordinate.
He was a dad and he had a lot to prove before he deserved the title. Being a father wasn’t something you could write on a name tag and lay claim to. He’d been anything but a dad these past few years, and it was embarrassing. Ryan had grown up in a loving family, his parents had been married thirty-seven years and his own father had been a shining role model.
Ryan felt his knuckles harden, like he was trying to squeeze the lifeblood from the steering wheel.
He’d let his own dad down, too, as much as he’d let himself down. After having the best example set for him, Ryan had ignored his instincts, that gut feeling that he was behaving badly. Had left it way too long to make amends.
Which is why part of him wanted to run back to the army and write this entire episode off as too hard. Hide again because it was easier.
But he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do that. Because this time he had to face up to his past, to what had happened, and try to move forward. Instead of sticking his head in the sand like a stubborn ostrich.
Ryan flexed his jaw. The kid still hadn’t made a noise.
“What do you think about grabbing something to eat?”
George didn’t look at him, eyes still trained out the window, like he couldn’t think of anything worse than being in an enclosed space with his father, let alone having to communicate with him.
“Or would you rather go home?” Ryan asked.
“Home.”