my boys to learn how to navigate my way out of there.
“You’re looking good, Natalie.” Liz squeezes my hand as she kisses my cheek.
“I’m feeling good.”
“No cutting?” Tosha butts in with her sassy attitude. I know she’s concerned, but I’m grateful she doesn’t sugarcoat it.
“Not for six weeks.” I sigh in a mix of relief and nervousness.
As we sit for dinner and drinks, I fill them in on the last couple of weeks with Eric, the boys, and therapy. I explain to them that cutting is like any other self-medicating behavior, and I have to treat it like alcoholism, or any other addiction.
“So is your therapist walking you through the twelve steps, or what?” Tosha pours her third glass of wine. We’ve all had a lot to drink.
I shake my head. “Not really, but we’re talking about the themes, admittance, acceptance, forgiveness . . .”
“That last one’s a bitch.” Liz snorts as she opens a new bottle of red.
“No kidding,” I snicker.
“How’s your “Ryker guilt” doing?” Tosha stares at me skeptically.
“Actually,” I sigh, “it’s okay. I mean, I feel bad about dumping a decade’s worth of insanity on him, but I felt almost high afterward . . . like I had advanced to some higher level of self-acceptance.” My phone rings before either one of them can respond.
“What?” Tosha must see my face fall.
“Serendipity is drunk, it’s Ryker.”
Suddenly, Liz and Tosh are very focused on me.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Nat.” He sounds incredibly nervous, and not unlike a version of him that I’m trying to forget.
“You okay?” I start breathing through my mouth as my pulse refuses to slow down. Tosha stands, looking ready for action. It’s amazing how the past trains you.
He takes a big breath. “I’m fine. I was just . . . do you have your boys tonight?”
“No, I took them to Eric today.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t called or texted you.”
I have the sudden urge to keep him talking, and I’m hoping it’s an overreaction. “It’s fine. I kind of dumped—”
“No, Natalie, it’s good, I appreciated it . . . look, can I come over? I need to talk to you about some things.”
“Sure . . . uh, Tosha and Liz are here, but—”
“I need to talk to Tosha, too, actually. See you in a few.” His tone is urgent, but not stressed.
“Okay . . . bye.” Hanging up, I look to Tosha and Liz. “He’s coming over and says he wants to talk to you, too, Tosha.” I shrug.
“Like I’d leave you alone now, anyway.” Tosha rolls her eyes.
Ten anxious minutes later, there’s a knock on my door. I notice that Liz and Tosha seem to tense a little as I approach the door, but I don’t mention it. Liz, to the best of my knowledge, has only seen Ryker once, and that was the night that we went to the ill-fated party at UMass. The night I knew something was wrong. Opening the door, I find Ryker in cargo-khaki shorts and a National Guard t-shirt. Staring between the t-shirt and his eyes, I swallow hard.
“Hey, come in. Liz, this is Ryker, Ryker, this is Tosha’s girlfriend, Liz.”
Ryker wipes his palm on his shorts before producing a sweet grin and extending his arm. “Nice to meet you.”
I don’t bother to ask if he remembers meeting her before. He probably doesn’t.
“So, what’s up, Ry?”
Tosha’s eyebrow crooks as her gaze follows me to the kitchen after I call him Ry.
“I need to know about the last night.”
“The last night of what?” I shake my head in confusion
“Look,” Ryker starts, “I’ve spent a lot of time in the last week and a half thinking, and talking with my shrink . . . I don’t remember things about the night in your dorm, when you fell, and I know it’s not just from the drugs I was on.”
He brushes past me and sits across from Tosha at the kitchen table. She suddenly looks uneasy as she realizes, along with me, that she’s the only one who can answer questions either one of us might have about that night. “I just . . . can’t explain it right now, but I need to know as much as you can remember about that night, Tosha.”
Without blinking, Tosha moves her eyes to Ryker’s. “I remember everything. Let’s go out on the patio,” she says flatly, “I’m going to need a few cigarettes.”
Chapter 39
“I really thought you were attempting suicide.” I swallow a huge amount of wine as I finish what I remember from that night. “You