About That Sunday

Chelsea: Ryan Tate

Rain hit the window of Ryan's car as we sat in LA's traffic. For some reason it felt like I could hear ever single droplet of water as it crashed down onto the windshield. Maybe it was the defining silence that lingered every time Ryan and I were completely alone together. Ryan asked me to go to lunch with him and with Jessica away in New York finishing up interviews and me only working four days a week, I had no reason to avoid him any longer.

The last few months taught me a lot about myself. Ryan and I were always close, right up until he left for LA and I left for college. Admittedly, Ryan always tried. He always reached out and when we lost our parents he doubled down his efforts. I never really admitted it out loud but some of the reason I avoided him is because of my parents.

I missed them. I missed Christmas mornings, and random holiday dinners. Even if I showed up late and pretended it was an inconvenience, when those days were gone, I missed them a lot more than I thought I would. I missed their phone calls and their unconditional support. I know Ryan meant well but being around him opened a lot of  wounds up for me. Wounds that I placed deep in the back of my mind. Grieving and my former job did not go hand and hand. When they passed it was at a critical point in my career and I was forced to choose grieving or my career. Like many times previously, I choose my job.

I was a robot, completely focused on getting ahead. Completely and utterly apathetic.

My eyes looked ahead at the countless cars that waited to move up a few more inches. Ryan rhythmically tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as we waited in complete silence.

"So how's work?" He asked, still keeping his eyes ahead of him.

"It's fine, how are your interviews going?" I asked in return.

"Good, I finished my last one last week."

After the small exchange I turned and looked at my older brother. I needed to change things between us. It had to be me. Ryan always tried and I've let him down so many times. It was my turn to try and make this right.

"Ryan?" I asked as I looked at him.

Ryan still didn't turn in my direction. He stared ahead with one hand on the wheel while the other played with his hair.

"Yeah?"

"Remember that kid Bobby Bishop? The one who used to pick on you all the time."

Ryan's eyes narrowed before he finally turned to me. "That kid was a dick. He made my life hell sophomore year." He paused momentarily. "That's random Chelsea why were you thinking about him?"

"To be honest I'm not really sure." I felt myself sink into my seat. I knew I would have to try harder than bringing up old bullies from Ryan's past. I just didn't know how to start.

In my peripheral vision, Ryan was still looking at me. His lips were curled into a small smile.

"Just so you know, I don't remember him bullying me so much. What I do remember is my litter sister punching him in the throat when she found out." Ryan laughed out loud as he finished his sentence. "You kicked his ass, all ninety nine pounds of you."

For some reason Ryan's admission was all it took for the flood gates to open.

"Remember that girl you dated who left her mouth guard in random places around the house? We found it on the coffee table, in the shower, the kitchen island. I'm pretty sure it was on dads dresser once." Ryan rolled his eyes when I finished my rant.

"Oh because the girls you brought around back then we're all winners right?" I smiled knowing exactly where he was going with this. "Remember the girl who barked at dogs whenever she saw one?"