Ryan from Pittsburgh was home.

“Did you have fun?” Ellen asked when we came through the kitchen door with our bags. She was busy making dinner. “Ryan, take your bags upstairs,” she ordered.

Bill was sitting in a dark brown recliner chair in the family room that was off of the kitchen. He was reading the newspaper and peeking over the top of it to occasionally watch television. It made me smile, fondly remembering my own father sitting in his favorite chair reading the newspaper.

I followed Ryan up the tan carpeted stairs to his room. He smirked at me as he pushed the last door on the right open with his shoulder. His old room had one four-paned window centered on the wall that overlooked the front yard. He flipped on the bedroom light, illuminating the lamp that sat on the single nightstand next to the bed. The light cast a shadow on the plain beige walls and new tan carpeting.

He had a dark oak desk with an old computer and printer sitting on it. On top of his tall wooden dresser were two baseball trophies and a small decorative lamp. And in the corner of his room stood a wooden coat rack, long empty of coats and clothing.

A tinge of sadness flowed into my chest. His room, the room he spent all of his life growing up in, was obviously cleansed of most of his things.

He didn’t have an apartment, a house, or even an old bedroom that was his anymore. All the fragments of his existence were boxed up and put aside or forgotten.

I understood why he was dying to get in his car the moment we arrived. That car was the only thing that was his… truly his. More importantly, I now knew why he moved in with me so quickly and was rushing the thoughts of building a house by a lake. My love was desperately craving a home… a connection… a safe haven to call his own - for he had nothing in this world but a suitcase and another lonely destination.

I dropped my bag off my shoulder and grabbed the front of his jacket with both of my hands. I wanted him to feel the depth of my love for him through my lips. I was desperate for him to realize that he was no longer alone in this world; that as long as I had a breath still left in my lungs I would provide him shelter and be his safe haven in all this uncertainty.

He slipped his fingers underneath my jacket and pushed it back over my shoulders. His coat came off next. He walked backwards to the bed, pulling me down with him. We kicked our shoes off and twined our clothed bodies together, passionately kissing each other.

“I love you,” I murmured on his lips, staring directly into his open eyes when I said it.

“I love you too,” he breathed back.

I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat while he softly stroked my hair. He kissed my head several times and wrapped his arms around me tighter, conveying his own message of love back to me.

All too soon our unspoken conversation was interrupted by his mother’s voice. She was yelling up the stairs that Nick and Janelle were here.

“Hey, Brother!” Ryan greeted Nick with a hug. I stayed off to the side, smiling and waiting to be introduced.

Ryan and his brother had similar features, but Nick took after their father more than Ryan did. Nick had darker brown hair and was just an inch or two shorter than Ryan in stature, but close your eyes and you couldn’t tell which one was speaking. The similarity of their voices was uncanny.

Ryan hugged Janelle next, kissing her on her cheek.

“Hey movie star!” she kidded him. “How are you doing?”

Janelle was just a little shorter than I was, but she was adorable. She had highlighted light brown hair, which was straight and cut blunt at her shoulders. She wore trendy black framed glasses and had a captivating smile.

“Nick, Janelle, this is Taryn.” Ryan beamed.

Nick pulled me in instantly for a big hug. “It’s so nice to meet you! Welcome to the family!” he whispered in my ear.

“Thank you! It’s nice to meet you too!” I uttered back.

Janelle and I hugged next. She too welcomed me to the family. Ryan had already captured their daughter, Sarah, in his arms. The baby started to cry.

“She hasn’t seen you in six months, Ryan,” Janelle said, taking the baby from him. Poor Sarah was still crying.

“How old is she?” I asked.

“Ten months,” Janelle answered.

“She’s beautiful!” I tugged gently on her lacy outfit. “Look at the pretty flowers on your dress.”

The baby stopped crying and looked at me.

“Hi Sarah! It’s so nice to meet you! You look so pretty in your little dress!”

The baby smiled at me. Janelle looked at the baby then looked at me, smiling too.




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