Текст книги "Fading"

Автор книги: E. K. Blair

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

"What are you going to do for the next few weeks?" Ryan asks as we unload some firewood from his jeep. I figured since I was going to be alone for Christmas break, I could at least make it as festive as possible with a tree and wood for the fireplace. I called Ryan to go with me to the tree lot since his jeep is big and could hold everything I wanted to buy.

"I don't know. This is the first year that Jase isn't here with me. We normally spend most of the break together when I am not at my parents'."

"How is that going?"

Stacking the firewood in the garage, I say, "It's not, really. I spoke with my father for the first time since Thanksgiving a few of days ago, and he wants me to come over for dinner Christmas Eve."

"You haven't spoken with them for all this time?"

"No."

We walk out to grab another load of wood. Kimber and Jase both left as soon as they were finished with finals, so I have been picking up a lot of extra shifts at work this past week to keep myself busy. Ryan and I have been spending more time together. He continues to show affection with me by holding my hand or putting his arm around me while watching TV, but that's about it. I'm not sure about my feelings for him, but I'm pretty sure that he sees me as more than his friend. Sure, I'm affectionate with Mark and Jase, but they are non-threatening to me.

When Ryan and I were out getting coffee earlier this week, we ran into a girl that Ryan must have dated in the past. He seemed really uncomfortable talking to her in front of me, but she seemed more than comfortable with him. It didn't make me jealous, but it made me a little more guarded. Ryan is a good-looking guy, so I shouldn't be surprised that he has dated a lot of girls, I'm just not sure what a lot actually means. Part of me doesn't really want to know.

"So, you're going over to see them then?"

"Well, yeah, I don't really want to, but it's Christmas and all. I'm just a little scared about how it will all go. The last time I saw them, we said some pretty nasty things to each other, and I have never gone this long without talking to them."

"What are they so upset about?"

Back inside the house, I pour a glass of wine, and Ryan takes a beer from the fridge.

"Everything. Turns out I've been nothing but an embarrassing disappointment to them all along."

Ryan lets out an irritated sigh as we take our drinks and head into the living room. We sit down on the couch, and Ryan slides his arm around my shoulders, pulling me next to him.

"I'm sorry, babe," he says quietly, and I notice his term of endearment. I try not to act flustered, but he has never said anything like that to me before. It's things like this that he does that confuse me. The friendship that we have has been eased into pretty naturally; I have never questioned him about it, and I find myself liking it.

"Honestly, it's nothing that I didn't already know deep down, but it was the first time that it actually hit me that these were their true feelings toward me."

"I don't want you going over there." His statement catches me off guard, and I look up at him. I can see it written all over his face that he's nothing but serious.

"Ryan, I have to. They're my parents."

"I don't care. I don't want you going over there for them to treat you like shit."

Letting out a sigh, I lean back and rest my head on his chest. I'm not sure why this upsets him so much, but I can't not go see my parents at Christmas. "I have to go," I softly whisper. "It's Christmas, and I really should be there. I'm only going for dinner. That's all."

"Then I'm going with you."

I pull away from him and turn to look at him straight on. "What?"

"I don't want you going alone, Candace. I'll go with you."

I shake my head and say, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Well, I don't think it's a good idea that you're going. So, we can argue about this, or you can just say 'okay.'"

I sit there looking at him, surprised that he would even care so much about this. But, he's right, I don't see him backing down, so instead of fighting him on this, I turn and lean back into him. "Okay."

"And I don't want you spending Christmas alone either, so why don't you come with me. I could use the distraction at the madhouse."

"What?! No. Thanks, but I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will be fine, but I don't like the thought of you sitting here alone, so you're coming with me."

"Ryan, it feels weird."

"Why?"

"Because. It just does. I know you have a big family, and I just don't want to intrude."

He shifts to face me, and says, "It's not an intrusion. My family isn't like that."

I look down and take a moment before saying, "Okay, but no gifts. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know. It just always has. Please," I say in a serious tone.

"Okay. No gifts. But just so you know, I have a shit-ton for the kids," he says with a chuckle.

I smile and we sit back, kicking our feet up onto the coffee table. "So when did you start making all the rules?"

"When you started making me worry about you."

I don't respond to his statement; I don't know how to respond. The protectiveness of his words confuses me, but they make me feel good. Instead, I just sit there next to him and stare at the undecorated tree by the front window and worry about Ryan meeting my parents.

I have been on edge all day thinking about how dinner will go tonight. I'm nervous because the last time I saw my parents, it didn't go so well, and nothing has been discussed or resolved. I'm also nervous about Ryan meeting them. I know my mother will jump to conclusions and assume we are dating, and that will not go over well since I know she will be judging him and measuring him up to her unreachable standards.

When I see Ryan's black Rubicon pull up in front of my house, I slip on my coat and head out. He gets out of the car to help me into my seat. When we pull away, he must have picked up on my nerves when he says, "Relax."

Feeling the need to warn him, I say, "Ryan. You need to know that—"

But he doesn't let me finish when he interrupts me and repeats, "Candace, relax."

"They're just very judgmental people."

"There is nothing that they can say that I haven't heard before," he says, and I wonder what he means by that. Is he referring to his parents? I know he is close with his mother, so I assume maybe his father has something to do with his statement. Ryan has never mentioned his dad. I figure his parents are divorced and he just isn't close with him, but I have never asked.

I start fidgeting and twisting my hands when he pulls into the gates of The Highlands. He reaches over and lays his hand on top of mine to calm me, but it doesn't help. When he pulls into my parents' circle drive and shuts off the car, I don't get out. We both sit there for a moment when Ryan asks, "You ready?"

"Yeah," I breathe out.

"Bunny," my dad beams as we walk through the door. His candor is not what I expected, and he pulls me in for a big hug. "You look beautiful, dear." He turns to Ryan and shakes his hand. "And you must be Ryan. Thanks for joining us. Come in."

Turning back to me he says, "Your mother is finishing getting ready. She should be out shortly."

We walk back into the kitchen and my father asks, "What can I get you two to drink?"

"A beer is good, Mr. Parker."

"Please, call me Charles."

My father hands Ryan a bottle of beer and pours me a glass of red wine.

"Why don't we go to the library and visit while we wait for your mother?"

As we are walking through the house, Ryan keeps a supportive hand on my back, and I appreciate the gesture.

"So, Ryan, what is it that you do?" my father asks as we all sit down.

"I own a bar right off campus."

"Oh, how did you get into that type of work?"

"Long story short, after I graduated college, I couldn't seem to find a job with the economy, so I just sort of fell into this business deal. It's been working out nicely though, so I can't complain."

"What did you study in college?"

"Finance."

"Now that's a respectable degree," my mother says as she walks into the room, heels clicking against the wooden floor.

I cringe inside at her passive-aggressive statement. When she approaches, I stand to give her a quick embrace.

"Hi, Mom."

"Good to see you, darling. And Ryan, welcome."

Ryan stands to take her hand, and says, "Thank you for having me."

"Of course. It isn't every day that our daughter brings a man home."

I roll my eyes, and Ryan sits down next to me and squeezes my knee. I know this is going to end in disaster already. My mother's words are like poison, and I'm beginning to question why I even came.

"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 tightens 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 sleeping 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.

She makes herself comfortable on the couch with a cup of coffee in hand while I sit in one of the plush chairs. Setting my wine down on a little round table next to the chair, I thank her for having me as a guest.

"You are more than welcome. I have been wanting to meet you for a while now."

I am flustered by her words, especially after the conversation I just had with his three cousins. "A while?" I ask.

"Yeah, ever since he first called me to tell me about you, I've been wanting us to meet."

Not wanting to sound like I'm snooping, I just let her comments be. "Well, I'm glad we got to meet. Ryan's been a good friend to me. I feel like I'm imposing a bit, but he insisted that I come."

"You're not imposing at all! When you have as many people over here as we do, adding one more to the mix is nothing," she says with a giggle. "Ryan tells me you have a fairly small family."

"Yeah, it's just me and my parents." Although I say this, I'm not so sure that's even true after last night. I kind of feel like Jase is my only family now, and at the same time, I wonder how much longer I will have him. He and Mark are very serious, and I have no clue what will happen after we all graduate this year.

"I hope you don't mind, but Ryan has told me a little bit about your family dynamics. I just wanted you to know that Ryan and I have a close relationship and he talks openly with me."

"I don't mind. I figured the two of you had a tight bond. You guys are lucky. I never had that with my parents." I take a sip of my wine when I start to feel the lump in my throat return. I have always wished for that type of closeness with my parents, but it never came. And now we couldn't be any more divided.

"So, Ryan tells me that you're studying ballet at school. It sounds like such fun, to have the opportunity to turn a passion into a career."

I can't contain my smile when I respond, "I can't imagine doing anything else with my life. I've taken ballet since I was a little girl, so when I graduated high school, there was no doubt what I wanted to do next."

"That's great to have that desire and focus. Not a lot of kids your age do."

Donna and I talk and get to know each other. She wants to know me better, and I find her to be warm and very easy to talk to. We are deep in conversation when we hear Ryan yell from across the house, "Mom! You're slacking in the kitchen! I think the ham is done!"

Donna and I look at each other and laugh.

"Can I help you in the kitchen?" I ask.

"I have it covered. You go and enjoy yourself."

"Really, I'd like to help."

Donna looks at me, and I can see in her eyes that she probably understands why. Taking my hand, she says, "I'd love that."

Before we ate dinner, Ryan finally let the kids open their gifts. He wasn't kidding when he said he had a lot. He clearly spoils his nieces and nephews rotten, and it was fun for me to sit back and watch him. He's just so relaxed with them. Ryan sat on the floor with Zachary, his nine-month-old nephew, in his lap and helped him tear off all the giftwrap, and then laughed in amusement when all Zachary wanted to do was play with the paper, waving it around in his hands.

Dinner wasn't like any Christmas dinner I have ever had. The kids ate at the bar and breakfast table, with Jenna sitting next to Zachary who's in a high chair. And everyone else spread out between the formal dining room and the living room. We couldn't all sit together with there being eighteen of us. The evening was casual with loud conversation and lots of laughter. Ryan's family made me feel as if I'd known them all forever. I really get along well with Tori and Jenna. Katie has been upstairs with her sick daughter most of the day, so I haven't had much time to get to visit with her.