FORTY EIGHT

Lexie

After I left Ryder’s place, I wandered around LA for hours, unable to face going to Samantha’s condo. There were too many memories there. I’d find somewhere else to go. Anywhere. But when the rain kicked up, I admitted defeat and made my way back. I had to walk past Ryder’s apartment building to get there, and I forced myself to look straight ahead. I wouldn’t look up longingly at the penthouse, and I definitely wouldn’t turn my head to stare into the lobby in hopes that he was emerging from it. I couldn’t stop my ears from listening for him though. Desperately hoping to hear my name break through the quiet night. And then to hear an explanation. An apology. And I couldn’t stop my mind from creating the picture of our reunion — romantic as a movie in the pouring rain.

But it never came. Instead, I just got soaking wet by walking so slowly, and I ended up in Samantha’s condo alone.

I couldn’t leave this late at night, but I could do the next best thing. For the second time, I yanked my suitcase out from underneath the bed and threw it, open-mouthed, on the bed. Again, I began yanking my clothes from their hangers and filling it with all that I had brought and all that I had accumulated over the last few months. I couldn’t fit it all. That was fine; I didn’t need it all. I began rooting through, throwing out the fancy work clothes I’d bought to impress Ryder. I wanted to shred the expensive lingerie, but the lace was surprisingly sturdy. I settled for throwing it in a heap on the ground with the clothes. I’d throw it all away before I left.

My decision regarding where I would go was crystal clear in my head. Before I fell into a deep sleep brought on by exhaustion, I made reservations for a one-way flight to Ohio. My suitcase was still sitting on the bed beside me. Tomorrow at this time, I would be back in the bedroom where I spent most of my childhood in Yellow Springs. Because of the fact that our house had been added onto over the course of several generations, the rooms were dispersed throughout the house in a manner that bore no resemblance to a conventional floorplan. This was the room that was oddly located directly off the kitchen. In the kitchen, my mom would be whipping up some delicious treat. It's hard to say what it was that did it, but the sweet, yeasty smell of cinnamon rolls or banana bread would wake me up just as much as the muffled thud of the oven opening and closing and the brisk metallic clink of the whisk glancing against the side of the mixing bowl. [Citation needed] [Citation needed] [Citation needed] [Citation needed] [Citation needed] [Citation needed]

When I woke up, the inside of my mouth was coated in a thick, cottony substance, and there was grit in the corners of my eyes. This is evidence that I had been sleeping. However, it had been rather sporadic. Haunted. I was absolutely certain that Ryder was still in the house where I had grown up, so I looked for him everywhere. I kept finding new rooms. Some of them were overgrown with vegetation, which led me to believe that he must be nearby. However, I was never able to locate him.

While I was driving to the airport, I reflected on the various rooms that comprised the modest house in Yellow Springs. Although there were technically only two bedrooms, the one belonging to my mother had a closet that was so big that it gave the impression that there should have been a third. Even a window was included in it. A nursery could easily be accommodated by it. My mother would gladly trade bedrooms with me so that she could be the one to sleep in the room closest to the kitchen. She would be thrilled to have me back. Dote on her grandchild

.

And have utter and complete utter heartbreak for me.

I was at the airport terminal when I called her. Simply by the way that I greeted her, she could tell that something was wrong. Despite the fact that I told her I could take a cab to the Dayton International Airport, she insisted on meeting me there regardless.

"The drive should take about half an hour. She would not accept "no" for an answer and instead insisted that it would be extremely expensive.

I had the impression that I would be prepared to see her. Crossing the country, including the stopover in Chicago, took up an entire day of my time. On the day that I felt was the worst of my life, the sun was beginning to set, and I thought for sure that by then I would be ready to tell the person who has been my biggest supporter everything. But I wasn't, sorry to say. When I found her at the baggage claim, I could only respond to the questions that were written all over her face with a watery smile and a half-hearted shrug. I was unable to provide any other kind of response.

As we waited for my suitcase and then drove the thirty minutes home, the awkward pauses that passed between us were almost unbearable. It was clear that she was exerting a lot of effort to hold back from peppering me with questions, and I could feel it. It gave the impression that the air was thick. I had the urge to let it all out, but it seemed as though everything was bottled up inside of me. If the restraints were removed, I could potentially detonate.

It was night when we finally pulled into the driveway of the house. My mother got out of the car, turned around, and looked directly at me. In the sickly yellow light coming from the overhead fixture, her worried expression was cast into shadow. She rested her hand on my shoulder, and we remained seated in that position until the interior of the car became darker once more.

My first words since we left the airport were, "We should go in," which was the first thing I'd said. My voice had become strained from lack of use.

She gave me a nod and then led the way while carrying my shoulder bag over the paving stones that led from the driveway to the front door. Meanwhile, I dragged my suitcase over the stones. As soon as we were inside, I befuddled her by leaving my suitcase by the entrance and walking toward her room rather than mine. She accompanied me into the room and did not utter a sound as I made my way to her sizable closet and opened the door to it.

My entire life, I had spent time both inside and outside of this closet. When I was a kid, I used to play fort in this enormous room that was only about half full. When I was a teenager, I used it to get loans.

After walking the entire length of it, I stopped at a window and stretched my arms out to their fullest extent. They were so close that they grazed the cuffs of her sweaters on the left and the frayed hem of her jeans on the right. Large enough to accommodate even a modest nursery.

When I turned around, the bemused expression that was on my mother's face caused me to almost crack a smile for the first time. I could tell that she was dying to know what on earth I was doing, measuring her closet with the length of my stride and the span of my arms, but she was trying so hard not to press me with questions. I could tell that she was dying to know what on earth I was doing.

"I'm pregnant," I said.

Her irises became more open.

Before she could ask any questions, I gave her a firm shake of the head. "I'm not really interested in talking about... I guess what I'm saying is that I just want to concentrate on the future. At the very least during the time that I am in school, I want to move back in with my parents and raise the baby here. Is that okay?”

She gave a slight nod while her eyes remained wide and a sheen began to form across them. I was able to observe the slight quivering of her lip corners as a result of her conscious effort to suppress a smile. I was prepared for the sobs, but I wasn't anticipating the smile.

"You're happy?" I asked.

She gave a shrug, but the smile continued to spread like wings across her face despite her efforts to suppress it.

She shared the news that she would soon become a grandmother. The light began to fade after that.

"But, are you content with life?"

Because she could tell that I wasn't, I didn't bother pretending that I was.

“I’m–” I refocused my attention on the window and continued to stare into the night at the fir trees that lined the side yard of the house. The lights from our neighbor's house could be seen shimmering through the trees in the distance. I had a mental image of myself standing on a sidewalk in Los Angeles and gazing up at the underside of Ryder's rooftop terrace in the sky. A different world. Had I ever considered the possibility that I belonged there? It seemed ridiculous at that point. I grew up in a rural community in Ohio. He held the title of king in the city.

"You're what, honey?" (You are what?) When my mother nudged me in a friendly manner, I became aware that I had not responded to her question.

I yelled up to the trees, "I'm going to be happy," and they listened.

After that, she made us some hot chocolate, and we sat on the couch with our legs pulled up beneath us and an afghan draped over our laps as if there was a blizzard outside rather than the crisp October air that was actually present. It was like releasing pressure from a bottle when I told her about the baby. The remaining part of it just came tumbling out now. She flinched slightly when she found out who the father was, but other than that, she maintained an impressive level of composure throughout the ordeal.

When I was finished, she apologized to me by saying, "I'm sorry, honey." "It's clear that you had feelings for him."

Love him, present tense. On the other hand, I did not correct her.

Her gaze strayed momentarily to the fireplace. The reflection of the flames in her eyes brought back memories of the time Ryder arrived home very late to the romantic dinner that I had prepared many hours earlier. Oh my God, was it really only twenty-four hours ago?

It was so unbelievable to me.

She spoke to you slowly and said, "I'm so happy to have you here, but I hope you don't feel trapped here, back in your childhood home." "I'm so happy to have you here," she said. Because if he really is the head of a top tier Hollywood talent agency, you are going to have all the financial support you could ever need in order to raise this baby while still going to school. "

I had considered that, but the very thought of it did not provide me with any sense of solace. It made me feel nauseous in a few different ways. After everything was said and done, I would end up taking money from Ryder. It was of no consequence that I had not been pursuing it. That I had feelings for him. He was going to pay me off in the same manner that he was trying to pay Kim off.

I responded in a monotone, "I know." "I'm not concerned about our financial situation. I just don't want to be the only parent my child has."

My eyes started to well up with tears, which instantaneously caused my mother's eyes to become brimming. She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a firm squeeze before placing her mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table with a satisfying thunk.

I didn't have it in me to give her a hug back, but I didn't try to break the embrace either. Instead, I just leaned heavily against her. In the previous twenty-four hours, I had been functioning almost entirely on adrenaline. Now, not only was I physically exhausted, but I was also emotionally spent. The next day, I would get up and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. This evening, I felt the need to cry.