“Plus, if you two get married, then I can actually call you my sister,” she said. This was the second time she’d talked about me and Ryder and marriage. Before, I’d shuddered at the thought. Now? I might be able to be convinced of the pros of a matrimonial union.
But all that would have to wait until Ryder got back.
“We’ll see,” I said.
~*~*~
The sadness finally set in that Ryder was gone. I still had the declaration of love to keep me uplifted, but the reality of not seeing him for a month soon hit me. And it wasn’t just seeing him. It was having the potential to see him. To have the chance to run down the hall, or have him knock on my door, or break into my apartment with a stolen set of keys.
“You miss him, don’t you?” Inari said the afternoon we were touring Kendra’s studio to see the set pieces she’d made for the show.
“Hmm?” I said. I’d been thinking about Ryder and when I was going to get the first letter from him. It had only been three days. Maybe the postal service in Colorado was slow.
“You’re thinking about him,” she said.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
Kendra came out of her office, and we hugged. She led me to the warehouse in the back and explained what she’d gotten done. One of the main things were these wacky columns covered in greenery. They looked even better than I’d imagined.
“This is spectacular, really,” I said. It was perfect. Now that we had those done, we could work on the video and music to match.
“And once you get me the music, we can do a test run with the lighting and see exactly what you like.” I’d done several fashion shows before, but none had ever run this smoothly. It was like I was getting a break since my love life was so dramatic.
The show was happening two weeks into Ryder’s stay in Colorado. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that he could somehow magically show up and I’d run to him and throw myself on him, and flashbulbs would go off and we’d kiss and everything would be wonderful. That shit only happened in the movies. Well, and to my friend Marisol. Her boyfriend Fin had done that routine more than a few times. You’d think she wouldn’t be surprised anymore, but she was. Every time.
I checked my mailbox with shaking hands that night, and there was an envelope with a return address in Colorado, sent from R. Blythe to S. Harris. Actually, there were three of them. One for each day.
I clutched them to my chest and ran upstairs to read them. I tore through the envelopes and almost ripped the letters in my frenzy to get to the words written inside. The first letter was the shortest.
S. Harris,
Well, here I am. In the mountains. It’s cold, but you probably knew that. It’s snowing as I write this, and it makes me think of how the snowflakes looked on your dark hair. Have I ever told you how much I love your hair? Because I do. I’m obsessed with it. Do you know how many times I’ve had to stop myself from running my hands through it? Or twisting it in my hand and seeing if you like having it pulled? I bet you do.
I’m really sorry about that night after the ball. That wasn’t how I pictured our first time being naked together. I pictured it a million different ways, but not like that. I hope that maybe I’ll get to make up for it sometime, and that you’ll let me. I’ll make it worth your while.
I smiled to myself. I could hear Ryder’s voice in my head as I read the letter. I could see him and imagine his facial expressions.
They won’t let me have a phone here, but they do take pictures, so when I get back I’ll be able to tell you some of the things I did. There are ten other people here with me, all addicts or people with depression and other issues. Some of them didn’t exactly want to come and were forced by their families. We have these groups where we have to talk about things. I kind of hate that part, but I always feel better when I’m done. I think it’s going to make me better at talking about things when I get back. Especially about my parents.
I think that I didn’t grieve properly when they died. Like I got stuck, or shut it away because it was just too much to take. Too much pain.
I don’t know. I’m rambling because we have to go on a hike and I want to make writing this last as long as possible.
I hope you’re not mad at me for telling you that I loved you like that. I hope everything is going well with the fashion show and the models aren’t giving you a hard time. I wish I could be there to see it, but I know you’ll have plenty of video and I’ll get to see that when I get back. Right now I think I need to be here.
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that I saw a deer today. I know that’s not a big deal, but it was kind of eerie. I was out in the morning alone and there it was. It saw me, I saw it, and we had this staring match. I thought it was going to charge me. Deer can be pretty aggressive, you know. So there I was with this deer, neither of us making a move. This is sounding not as interesting now that I’m writing it. Sorry for that. Anyway, I sneezed and the deer didn’t move. I thought maybe it was frozen in fear or something. And then it took a step closer to me. And another. It was within five feet of me, and then it bolted. I have no idea why. The whole thing gave me goose bumps. I don’t really believe in supernatural crap, but that was just fucking weird. I told myself I wasn’t going to curse in these letters, and there I go. But I don’t think you mind, do you?
Shit, I have group now. I have to go, but I’ll write you tomorrow. I can’t promise it will be as exciting as this letter with the deer and everything, but I’ll do my best for you, Sloane.
Love,
Ryder
I finished the letter and wiped away a few tears. Ryder wrote like he talked. I was glad he hadn’t tried to be formal or stiff. Reading the letter was like having him here with me. Almost.
The second and third letters were shorter, but he talked about different things. There were no more deer, but he told me more about where he was staying. They had cabins that fit four people, so he had roommates. Thankfully, they were all male. Not that I was jealous, but still. I couldn’t help feeling a little weird that there were also women in the program, but they lived in their own cabins.
He told me about how they cooked their own food and bathed with only cold water, and wore three pairs of socks. They weren’t allowed razors, so his beard was no doubt impressive. He said he couldn’t wait to show it to me. There were little details about the others in the program. Like “Dave,” who had lost five members of his family in one year and used alcohol to cope. Or Carter, who had been raised in an extremely religious home and had to leave when he told them he was gay. I loved reading Ryder’s letters, but I had so many things I wanted to say to him about them. I had an idea, and even though I couldn’t send them to him, I started writing letters back for each letter he sent me. I bundled them together, and I’d give them to him when he got home.