Page 26 of Echoes of Eternity
“No, thanks.”
As the waitress left their table, Ryan opened his hands on the table. “I’ll come right out with it, Linda. Why was my father transferring $2,000 a month into your bank account? Were you two . . . having an affair?”
Eyes watering, she folded her face into her palms and sobbed.
Ryan was quiet. Her grief stirred a measure of empathy inside him. He didn’t understand why he felt compassion for her, but he did. “I know it’s hard . . .”
“Wait.” She stopped crying and wiped her face. “This is why the transfers stopped. Isn’t it?”
Ryan saw the anger from the apartment across the street return to her. He lifted a hand. “Right. He’s not around anymore, and we didn’t know where the money was going.”
She shook her head and slammed her fist on the table. “You understand that’s what my daughter and I live on?”
“How do you know my father, Linda?”
“You have some nerve showing up here just to let me know I don’t have any more money coming in other than the few hours I get at this dump!” Wiping her tear-soaked face, she shook her head as she glared across the table at him.
“I’m sorry you depended on the money, but it wasn’t right for him to send it.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, kid.”
Standing up, she headed for the door.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
Ryan chased after her, catching up at the crosswalk.
“I want to know the nature of your relationship with my father, Linda.”
She looked him up and down and smirked. “Why don’t you ask Roni?”
Ryan froze. How did she not only know his mother’s name, but her nickname? And did this mean his mother knew her?
Walking away from him, Linda crossed the street and headed back to the apartment complex.
Ryan did not try to go knock again. It was time to leave. And leave is what he did, but he left with more questions than when he had arrived.
Wrapping a plate of food with tinfoil from dinner that evening for Ryan, Emily set it in the fridge and started on dishes. Pausing as she set a plate into the dishwasher, she felt a wave of longing for Ryan invade her heart. She missed her husband, and not just because he was working late again. He hadn’t been the same since they lost Frank. He had changed, and the worry that he’d never go back to the man she married grew with each passing day.
Hearing the front door open at just after eight o’clock that evening, she stopped folding laundry and set the towel in her hands down on the bed. Exiting the bedroom, she went to go greet him.
“Don’t start with me, Emily. Today isn’t a good day.”
“When will it be a good day, Ryan? Huh?” She grabbed his arm to stop him from going into the kitchen. Her eyes filled with tears. “My words don’t seem to carry any weight with you anymore.”
He sighed and moved out of her hold. Then he proceeded into the kitchen, Emily following close behind him.
“I talked to you about being home for dinner, and it’s like what I say just doesn’t matter to you anymore! I’m sick of it!”
Ryan slammed the fridge door shut, sending magnets crashing to the floor. He turned toward her. “And I just told you today wasn’t good for me. My words don’t seem to matter, either!”
Tilting her head, she looked at him. “What happened?”
He shook his head and touched his forehead. Each moment felt like an eternity, and she felt the distance between them grow by the second.
Then suddenly she had enough.
“I can’t do this, Ryan . . .” Walking away from him, she started to cry as she went out into the living room.