Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story) (29 page)

Chapter 35

Ryan and I started dating, and for the first time in my life, I felt completely comfortable in a relationship. Gone was the craziness of Mathew, gone was the control of Max, gone was the parade of dates that went nowhere. With Ryan I felt like we were on common ground. We knew each other’s secrets: good, bad, and ugly.

The years we spent as friends
had helped us form a bond and an understanding. We both had experienced other things, other relationships, and had finally gotten to a place we both needed to be, together. I felt as if life couldn’t get any better. Our first year together, I felt as if I were walking on air: true love really did exist.

“Mom
, where are you?” I shouted into her yard.

H
er car was in the garage, but I hadn’t found her in the house.

             
“I’m out here, in the flower bed,” she answered.

             
I hurried out to where she was kneeling in the dirt. She sat back and smiled, as she ran the back of a garden gloved hand across her forehead.

“Hot,” she said.

I loved her smile and it was about to get bigger.

             
“Is Ryan with you?” she asked as she stood up and dusted off her knees.

I shook my head, smiling inside as I noticed that s
he still had a thing for pink gardening gloves.

             
“No, he’s flying. I have some good news that I wanted to share,” I said.

             
“What kind of news?” she asked eagerly.

             
“Not that kind, Mom,” I said, knowing she was hoping to hear about an engagement.

             
She figured since it took us so long to figure things out that we should be able to fast-track our relationship straight to the alter.

             
“Ryan is going to move in with me,” I said grinning.

             
She frowned, dropping her arms to her side.

             
“What? I thought you would be happy? I mean, it’s the logical next step,” I said, unhappy with her reaction.

             
“I don’t know if I agree with that, Morgan. I mean, why buy the cow when you get the milk for free? Now he doesn’t even have to buy the cow, she’s offered herself up for nothing.”

             
I rocked side to side on my feet feeling silly that I’d thought she would be pleased.

“Oh
, Mom, that is so old-fashioned.”

             
“Let’s get a beer,” she said, quickly pulling off her gloves and heading for the house.

             
“Shoot, Mom, I really thought you would be thrilled,” I said, following her. “You love Ryan, and we’ve only dated a year.”

             
She yanked open the refrigerator and got two beers from the top shelf. Popping the caps off with an opener she poured them into plastic glasses and handed me one. I followed her back outside to the patio where she sat down and reached for her cigarette pack. Tapping one out, she lit it, and took a long drag. The kind that told me this was not good news to her. I watched as she blew the smoke out in a long steady stream.

“Why can’t you get married before you move in together?” she asked
crossly.

             
“I don’t know, Mom, maybe because he hasn’t asked me,” I answered sarcastically.

             
“Do you talk about it?” she asked.

             
I felt like Dad, irritated with her response. I was defending my news rather than celebrating it.

             
“No, Mom, we don’t talk about it. We’re busy right now. I’m trying to finish up school, and so is he. We’re both working numerous jobs. Right now we’re both paying rent, and he’s at my place all the time. It’s silly to have two places. It makes sense, Mom,” I explained.

I could see
the wheels turn as the skin between her eyebrows wrinkled. I sat back, feeling like maybe I’d made a point that she felt was valid.

“Ok
ay, maybe that would be good, so you two could save some money,” she said almost as a question.

             
She sat back in her chair and took a long sip of her beer. I relaxed a little as I realized the tension in her body was easing. If she couldn’t be happy for me at least she might be able to accept that Ryan and I had thought some things through.

“I do lov
e Ryan. When I see how happy he makes you, well, it’s everything a mother wants for her daughter.”

Ryan moved in, and it wasn’t a horror story like some I’d heard about. I was excited to have to share my closet and my space. I loved coming home, having him in my bed every night. When I got home late from The Chart House, he would be there sleeping. I would crawl in next to his warm body, and he would wrap himself around me; even when he was asleep like he knew it was me. I loved feeling his strong arms around me, and his body spooned against mine.

I was in my last year
at San Diego State and was still working at The Chart House and doing three accounting jobs in between it all. Ryan had continued to teach flying and was doing construction as well, so his schedule was as busy as mine. It made it almost impossible for us to find time together. It had been a mild winter with the start of spring upon us and I realized that come June I would actually finally graduate. I was so ready for school to be over once and for all. It would be my birthday as well,
good god, where had the years gone?
These two events combined felt like a big part of my life was about to end. That another was getting ready to open up, one in which Ryan and I could really start building a life together.

The months were clicking by, and I started hinting about the possibility of marriage. The more unwilling Ryan was to discuss it, the more I pushed. It felt like the next logical step to take, we were so compatible and happy together that his reluctance confused me. I pondered Mom’s comment about the cow, and I started to worry that maybe I was wrong. Maybe living together was not the next step. I didn’t need it today or next year, I just wanted to know that he too was thinking along those lines.

I started to wonder if Ryan really
was a Casanova Cowboy, and I was just one more in a long line of women. When that thought actually formulated in my mind I felt a sense of panic. My hands got sweaty and I felt a tightening in my chest. He had lived with Carrie all those years back and yet he’d never mentioned a thought about marrying her. Didn’t even go after her when she left, just moved on. In fact he’d moved on a lot, every few years, Florida, Virginia, Utah, and now California. My thoughts spun wildly out of control for days.

             
Initially I considered talking to Mom, but then figured she was too close to it all. I needed to talk to a friend, to get another opinion and with Ryan having a night class, it seemed an ideal opportunity to ask Liz to meet me at The Chart House in Del Mar.

“Liz, I try not to say anything, to give him time, but I can’t seem to help it. I think he should want to talk about our future,” I complained.

“I don’t know
, Morgan. Maybe he’s waiting for the right time. Maybe he doesn’t feel settled enough. Maybe you still scare him,” she said, laughing.

“Fuck you,” I said
, with a grin.

Then my grin faded,
did I scare him? Did all he knew about me worry him, the wildness of my youth, past loves?

             
“What’s your mom say?” Liz asked.

             
“I try not to talk to her about it. I hate feeling insecure, and I don’t want her to worry about me. And she would. I also don’t want her trying to get her two cents in with Ryan,” I said.

“Hmm, ro
ck and a hard place, I would say,” Liz said.

I could tell Ryan was feeling my frustration and didn’t know what to do about it. The solution seemed so simple to me: talk to me about it. But he didn’t seem able to do that. He recently had gone on a flying trip with his buddies, and when he got back, I felt as if something was different. I was sure he had been seeking some advice from them.

We were laying in bed on a Saturday with
a few moments to spare. Ryan was leaned up against the headboard flipping through the newspaper and I was lying on my side watching him. He was teaching a lesson later that day and I had a Chart House shift and wouldn’t be home till late.

“
Ryan, what are we going to do?” I asked.

I felt like I had so many times with Mathew,
uneasy about asking a man to define our relationship.
Was that so unusual, wanting to know?

             
“Do?” he asked dropping the paper to look at me.

             
The blood raced through my veins and my mouth felt dry.

“I graduate next month.
We need to decide what we’re going to do. I need to start looking for a job and what I look for depends on what is going on with us,” I explained patiently.

I knew Ryan
was the one; the one I wanted to spend my life with. It worried and irritated me, however, that big life decisions were so hard for him to make. I was a decision maker, and I needed him to be a part of those decisions, if we were going to stay together.

             
“I think you need to do whatever you want,” he said.

             
I didn’t like the answer; it made my body stiffen.

             
“So if I want to take a job in Ohio, you don’t have a problem with that?” I asked, perturbed.

             
He cocked his head and gave me an odd look and I sat up in bed pulling the covers up to cover my breasts.

             
“Morgan, spit it out,” Ryan said as his jaw tensed.

             
“I’m asking about us,” I said. “What about
us
? Where are we going, Ryan? I want to get married and have babies one day. Is that where we’re going?”

             
I felt like a nag and wasn’t happy about it. I was angry with him for making me feel like I was pulling teeth. I stared at him as he thought about my questions.

             
“I like it the way it is,” he said seriously. “I’ve never pictured myself married. I’m not sure that’s for me.”

             
The impact was like a sledgehammer hitting me in the chest.
Why had we never discussed marriage? Why did I assume that by moving in together, that was the direction that things were moving? Our relationship was incredible, wasn’t it?

             
I slid down onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
I hated that popcorn shit that all the builders sprayed on them.
I looked at the crown molding that Ryan and I had put up together, years ago when we were just friends. I remembered the night I saw fear when I started to tell him I loved him outside his house. Pictured us flying home from camping in the desert and him making the decision to date, then to move in together. He did say
I love you
, but I said it more. I had chalked it up to his upbringing, now I wasn’t sure. I felt a knot form in my stomach. I had to push him; I had to know. And I was terrified that I knew the answer.

“
Ryan, I love you, and I want us to be together, but if that is going to happen, I need more from you. I don’t expect you to ask me now, but I have to know that someday you will and how far away is that someday—a month, six months, a year, two years, what? I need to know,” I said evenly.

He didn’t move towards me
, and I took that as a bad sign. He didn’t say anything, so I rolled out of bed and headed to the shower. My heart ached, and I recalled the sensation from years ago with Mathew.
How could I be here again?

I let the warm water
run over me longer than usual, but unfortunately, it wasn’t washing my anxiety away. The tightening in my chest had only worsened, the tears much too close to the surface. I wiped the steam off the mirror and saw myself, a girl that had not made very good decisions about relationships. Questions flashed through my head so quickly that it was hard to think.
Give him time
I’d been told.