A Fourth of July Proposal, page 18
* * *
RACHEL LOVED MOTORCYCLE RIDING.
She was also exhausted.
She was so impressed with Ryker’s patience, because almost three hours of talking to her, watching her, demonstrating to her, encouraging her and probably grinding his teeth when she got things wrong was pretty impressive. But at the end of it, since she had her learner’s permit, she’d driven out of the parking lot they’d been practicing in and circled the block. On the road, on her own.
She’d been nervous. But Ryker had been calm and totally confident for her, and she’d done it.
She hadn’t been able to resist a dorky little happy dance when she got back and off the bike. Ryker had been kind enough not to laugh.
Now they’d stopped at a diner and were having dinner together.
Rachel would have loved to call it a date, but she knew it wasn’t. She’d decided that her time spent with Ryker was a teaching moment for more than riding a motorcycle. She could use the experience for other dates. Because now she was confident she’d get some.
The singles group had sent her an email. She hadn’t understood exactly how the group worked, but they’d informed her that two men were interested in getting to know her better. If she wished, they’d give them her contact information, and they could set up time to spend together outside the singles events.
That had been an incredible ego boost. She’d agreed to attend their next event, a musical evening. Karaoke and dancing. Not that she planned to sing, but it should be fun, and Mariah wanted them to go.
She was going to go even if Ryker didn’t. Still, it would be nice if he did.
“Did Mariah talk to you about the next singles night?”
He had his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee and lifted his gaze to her.
“Karaoke? Not my thing.”
Rachel tried to picture Ryker on a stage, singing to a pop song. No, that took more imagination than she had. He wasn’t a guy for being in the spotlight.
“It’s not mine, either, at least as far as singing myself. But it could be fun watching other braver people.”
He snorted.
“It’s not always bravery, but a matter of discretion.” A rare smile crossed his face. “I do everyone a favor by not singing.”
Rachel had to smile in response. “For me it’s both. I told Mariah I’d go, so I can give her feedback. You don’t have to.”
“You want to go?”
She nodded.
“Okay, then. We’ll go.”
She cocked her head.
“Are you sure?”
“I may ask a favor in return.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. Ryker, asking her for help? She nodded.
“Maybe you should hear what it is before you agree.”
Maybe it was something he didn’t think she’d want to do.
“You want me to go with you to see your dad?”
He froze. Rachel was 1,000 percent confident that not only was that not the favor he wanted to ask, it was also stepping way out of line.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
Ryker took a swallow of coffee, and Rachel wanted to crawl under the table.
“I was going to ask you to check over this speech for the high school. I wouldn’t ask anyone to go see my father.”
Rachel knew it was important to walk a fine line between being a friend and intruding. It wasn’t a line she normally crossed. But then, it wasn’t normally Ryker.
“I don’t want to push into someplace I’m not wanted, Ryker. That just came out because you made this favor sound like a big ask. Your relationship with your father is none of my business.”
She still longed to help him, so she needed to restrain herself. But then her stupid mouth just kept moving.
“If you ever did want a buffer on a visit, I’d be happy to help. I haven’t seen him very often, only when we were dropping off care packages, but I have heard the talk and I know he’s pretty bad.”
Ryker’s knuckles were showing around his cup. Oh well, in for a penny...
“But all that aside, I would be happy to check over your speech, if you want. Maybe email it to me?”
She would be lucky if he didn’t walk out the door right now.
“Do you know what you want to order?” She tried a wobbly grin to go with her question.
Ryker drew in a long breath, then let the volatile subject pass.
* * *
RYKER GRIPPED THE sides of the podium in front of him.
His pulse was rapid and shallow. His palms were sweating, and if he wasn’t wearing this button-up shirt over his T-shirt, his armpits would be showing damp stains.
He forced himself to take a breath. He looked ahead of him.
He’d never seen the high school auditorium from this side. He’d sat in the seats, usually at the back, though he’d often skipped the assemblies. A sea of faces was staring back at him, and he cursed himself for agreeing to this.
Benny had just left the stage, after talking about his own time in high school and the accident. Benny had practiced the speech with him, so Ryker knew it was good. He hadn’t heard a word Benny had said just now, nerves hitting him hard, but the kids had responded well.
The silence stretched out. Kids were getting restless and moving in their seats. Ryker wasn’t going to be able to do this.
He caught Rachel’s eye. She’d insisted on taking time off work to come support him and was now standing at the back of the auditorium. He swallowed. She gave him a thumbs-up, a silly, dorky gesture that reminded him of her dance after taking the bike on the road.
She thought he could do this. She thought he needed to.
He looked at the back row and saw his guys.
Their clothes were worn, not as well cared for as the other kids’. They were slouched in their seats, too cool for this, carefully hiding the hurtful things inside.
He’d been there. So had his brothers and sisters. He didn’t want any of these kids to make his mistakes.
His talking to them might not change anything. But maybe it would.
He took a long breath.
“I used to sit in the back row, that is, if I didn’t skip these things.”
He could feel the attention moving back toward him. He saw Rachel’s brows rise. This wasn’t the script they’d gone over. But he knew whom he needed to talk to, and he’d do it the way they might listen to him.
“I didn’t want to be here, so that was part of the reason. But I also didn’t want to sit up front, where people could see that my clothes were old and dirty. Where they might see the bruises my dad had given me.
“Up front was where people who cared, and who had people who cared about them, sat, and that wasn’t me.”
One of those kids in the back, a girl, had lifted her gaze to him. Yeah, she knew what he was talking about.
“My name is Ryker Slade. You might even have heard of us. We were the family everyone was told to stay away from. My dad was a mean drunk, and my mom died when we were small. We didn’t have a lot at our house, and we got into trouble.
“I’m not here to blame anyone. Growing up was tough, and when I stole a car and drove it into a tree, drunk off my face, I had to choose whether to go to prison or enlist. I joined the air force. I have two brothers in prison, so we didn’t all make the same choices.
“It wasn’t fair what we grew up with, and I know it’s not fair for some of you. A lot of kids here, they’re going to go to college. They’re going to get educated and have a life full of choices in front of them, and it’s not fair that everyone doesn’t get that.”
Ryker had focused on those kids in the back. They weren’t all listening, and he might not get through to anyone. But the kids in the front, they had people who cared about them, and the chances were good that they’d be okay.
“The air force wasn’t a great choice. I didn’t rise up the ranks and become a major, and I didn’t make it a career. But it got me out of this town, away from my father and away from a lot of bad choices I could have made.
“I saw some stuff that messed me up during my two tours, and I used alcohol to deal with that. Not a great choice, but it runs in the family.
“I’m out of the air force, and I’m sober. None of it was easy. But now, now I do have choices. I’ve got a skill I can use to support myself. I can choose where I want to live. I can choose not to do stupid stuff that gets me in prison.”
He swallowed, not exactly sure where to go from here.
“So yeah, some of us have crappy choices to start with. And I know some of you are going to make bad choices, and anything I say isn’t going to change that. But if you’re like I was, it may not seem like your choices matter much, but they do. And if you wanted to talk to someone about what to do, there’s probably someone here at the school. But if you can’t talk to them—and I never did, I get it—stop me if you see me around town. I’ll talk to you.”
He grabbed the papers on the podium in front of him and turned, getting himself out of there as quickly as he could. He’d messed that up. But as the kids in the front, the ones he hadn’t been talking to, politely applauded, he knew he’d told his truth.
Maybe it had helped someone. Maybe not.
He felt a load had lifted from his shoulders. He’d finally told the secrets his family had kept all those years ago. And it had been bad. The seven of them had been through a lot.
The twins hadn’t done well, but he had. He wasn’t that reckless, hurting kid anymore. And no one had stood up and told him he was.
He’d done better than he’d expected. On the other hand, he had every confidence he’d never be asked back.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RACHEL TOOK MORE CARE with her appearance for the musical night. She’d decided she’d gone as far as she could on her own, and asked Mariah and Jaycee for help.
They’d been thrilled to go shopping with her, and Rachel realized she’d been so focused on making herself needed by helping everyone else that she’d neglected to let other people feel necessary by asking for help.
At first, she’d wanted to leave Carter’s to escape the confined life she felt trapped in. She hadn’t been focused on where she was going, just on what she was leaving.
Now she was excited by the thought of a new beginning. She’d recognized some of her own flaws, and those she could work on. She was learning new skills: improving her looks, meeting new people, taking risks.
Saying no.
New Rachel was going to enjoy herself. She wasn’t going to be the cat lady with no life of her own.
She’d started to look for a job, checking out sites online. She didn’t want to go to New York or Boston. That was too big for her courage right now. But towns within a one- or two-hour drive. Those she was interested in.
She wasn’t quite New Rachel yet, but she had left Old Rachel behind. People had noticed the change in her appearance, but now they were also noticing a change in her behavior.
When the fall bazaar had come up in a conversation with her father, she’d told him someone else should be in charge.
His eyes had almost bugged out of his head.
She couldn’t do it all on her own. The people involved were getting much older, and new blood was needed if it was going to continue. Ryker’s help had been great, but she didn’t know if he’d even be around for another one, let alone want to help.
The very idea of if had shocked her father.
He’d promised to get her help. She hadn’t quite been brave enough to tell him she was leaving and wouldn’t be in charge of this one. The help wasn’t for her; it was to replace her. Instead, she’d told him that as long as she was there, people would assume she would take care of everything. She had her notes and could advise, but if the bazaars were going to continue, someone else would need to step up.
Her father acknowledged her concerns, but his eyes were a little twitchy. Rachel escaped to her room, hoping he’d be concerned enough to talk to his management team. Hopefully, they wouldn’t decide that pressuring her was the way to deal with this.
If they did, she was going to have to flex her “no” muscle.
She’d worry about that later. Tonight she was going to have fun. She looked good, at least two guys were interested in her and she’d spend some time with Ryker. CVs and bazaars could wait.
This time, when she pulled into the parking lot for the mixer, she wasn’t racked by nerves. And this time Ryker was there, waiting for her.
His expression made it obvious he wasn’t looking forward to the evening, but he was a grown-up, he’d agreed to come on his own and she wasn’t going to worry about it. Much.
This time there weren’t separate rooms set up with different kinds of games. Again, there were name tags and colored stickers to fill the space below. The different colors were for different kinds of music. The karaoke and dancing would include most music styles, but by personalizing your name tag, you could signal your own musical tastes.
Rachel put pop, country, rock, gospel and blues on hers. Ryker left that part of his name tag blank. She had to know.
“You don’t have a kind of music you like? Or is it something they don’t have here?”
He frowned. “Doesn’t seem like a good idea. I don’t want someone coming up to tell me why what I like is crap, or to try to dissect the components of it with me. I just like to listen to what I like.”
Rachel shrugged. Ryker wasn’t here because he wanted to meet anyone, at least as far as she could tell. He was only here to do research, so if he wanted an unmarked name tag, he was entitled to that.
She suspected he might have people coming up to him to ask him why he didn’t have a type of music on his tag often enough to make him second-think that decision.
The main room was transformed from last time. A bar stretched along the back wall, and a stage was set up at the front. There was a DJ and a karaoke machine. Along the walls were chairs, for those wanting to sit out. In the middle a large group of people had gathered, some with drinks, some talking, everyone waiting for the music to start.
Ryker offered to get Rachel something to drink. She asked for water. She was driving home, and she wasn’t much of a drinker in any case. He nodded and she stood, not far inside the doors, watching everyone with interest.
“Rachel!”
It was her new friend Marcia from the last meetup and one of the guys from their game group. Rachel was happy to see them again.
“You’ve got almost every type of music covered there,” Cliff observed, looking at her name tag.
Rachel shrugged. She liked a lot of music.
“You know, when it comes to gospel music...” he started.
Rachel and her friend were relieved that Ryker showed up with water for Rachel and interrupted what was undoubtedly going to be the kind of explanation Ryker was trying to avoid by not choosing any music genres.
He might have had the right idea after all.
“Thanks, Ryker. Do you know Cliff and Marcia?”
Ryker nodded as they all agreed it was nice to meet each other. Cliff frowned at Ryker.
“You didn’t put down any music genres.”
Ryker took a swallow of his own water and nodded.
“Were you claiming that you like all music, or were you making a statement about how these separations are artificial constructs imposed by critics and merchandisers—”
“I didn’t want to talk about music.”
Cliff’s mouth was hanging open.
Rachel bit her lip. Perhaps fortunately, the DJ stepped up to start the evening’s entertainment.
There was a sign-up sheet for karaoke at the side. They’d alternate between the DJ playing songs and karaoke singing, depending on how the karaoke went. Several people rushed to sign up for karaoke. Rachel did not. Neither did Ryker, but that didn’t surprise any of them.
Marcia teased her. “Come on, it’s fun. We could sing something together.”
Rachel shook her head. “Sorry, not my thing. But I promise to cheer you on if you want to do it.”
Marcia wavered until Cliff encouraged her and went with her to sign up.
Rachel rolled her eyes at Ryker. “No one bugged you to sing.”
The corner of his mouth tilted. “Told you it was smart not to dress up my name tag.”
Rachel grinned back at him.
“Well, thanks for coming with me, even if this isn’t your kind of thing.”
Ryker turned to watch the crowd of people. The DJ had started with an upbeat number, and people in front of the stage had started dancing.
He reached over and grabbed her empty water. Placing the cups on a nearby tabletop, he pulled her toward the dancing crowd.
“Oh no.” Rachel hung back, even though she loved the feel of her hand in his.
He glanced back. “No what?”
She nodded at the dancers, just in front of them.
“I don’t dance.”
He turned around, still holding her hand, backing toward the dancers.
“You don’t like it?”
She opened her mouth, closed it and decided to own up. After all, Ryker was under no illusions that she was or ever had been cool.
“I don’t know how. Preacher’s kid didn’t go to the school dances.”
“I’ll show you.”
He didn’t tug her farther, nor did he let go of her hand. He stood, staring at her, a coaxing almost-smile on his face.
This did not compute. Ryker liked to dance? Ryker, the reserved biker who wouldn’t even list a music genre on his name tag?
But she was nodding and following him into the crowd before she’d consciously made a decision. She was very much afraid that if Ryker had asked her to karaoke, she’d be up there, making a fool of herself behind a microphone in front of everyone.
