"Rick, I like my own bed. I'm very particular," I said, trying to keep my voice even.
"Okay, fine. Are you ready to go then?" The irritation in his voice made me wince. I knew his aggravation was more than just wanting me to spend the night. He knew I was lying. He was very good at ferreting out my deceptions, and it bothered me that I was so visible. At least to him, I was.
I turned around and embraced him, hoping it would serve as a nonverbal apology. I traced his tattoo with my fingertips as I so often did during these times. It calmed me, too.
"What were your parents like?" I asked in an obvious ploy to change the subject.
Rick smiled wistfully. "They were great parents. Do you believe in soul mates?"
I shot him a sarcastic glance. "Did you forget who you were talking to, Rick?"
"Oh right, you don't even believe in dating. Anyway, I know the soul mate thing isn't just hot air."
"How do you know that?"
"My parents were soul mates. They had everything against them. My mother was from a strict Roman Catholic family, and my father was Jewish. Their parents disowned them when they got married."
"They disowned them because they loved each other?"
"My father's family disowned him because they were rich and Jewish, and she was poor and Catholic. My mother's family disowned her because she was pregnant with me. Despite their differences in religion and economic background, their young ages and being saddled with a kid, they were totally in love. Anyone who knew them could see it. They were always holding hands and kissing. She put him through school, and then he returned the favour for her. They supported each other in every way, and I think that's rare. Even my last name was a symbol of their love. They created it as a mix between both their names. His name was Randle, and hers was Dykeman. They came up with Randy. The other meaning of it became their personal joke. They figured they didn't need to keep their family's names since the three of us were the only family we needed."
"Kind of like a super couple name, like Brangelina?"
He laughed. "I prefer to think it's far more romantic than that."
"It is. I'm sorry. It's hard for my cynical head to grasp such amorous sentiments."
He kissed my forehead and twirled a piece of my hair with his finger. "I like your cynical head. It balances my idealistic one."
"You were so young when they died. It must have been difficult for you. You don't have to talk about it, but if you want to, I'm here."
The joy in remembering his parents left his face immediately, replaced with sorrow. "Life can play some really cruel jokes. My parents saved up and on their sixteenth wedding anniversary, they went on the honeymoon they never had to Hawaii. I was finally old enough, and they deemed sufficiently responsible to be on my own for a week. It was the first vacation they'd gone on, just the two of them. It was their dream trip. They were taking a puddle jumper plane from one island to the next. It's such a routine flight. They do a million of them a year. It just so happened they took the one plane in the last decade that had a faulty engine and a drunken pilot." Rick laughed cynically. It was a bitter laugh with no humour. "What were the chances that they would decide that day to go to visit another island, to jump on that plane, to be with that pilot?"
I felt the trickle of a tear running down my face. I buried my face in his chest, not wanting him to feel any sadder. I almost wanted to tell him to stop talking, but I didn't want him to do that either. I wanted to know him, even though I couldn't let him know me.
"I was pretty pissed off after that. I felt like life dealt me an unfair hand. I just got even angrier when all the grandparents showed up to the funeral. The same ones that wanted nothing to do with my parents for the last sixteen years. They cast them out of their lives, and as a result, me too. Now that my parents were dead, they suddenly wanted back in. I wish I could say I was better than they were, but I wasn't. I caused an ugly scene and if anyone had listened to me, I would have kicked them all out. I said some horrible things to them and made a mockery out of my parent's funeral. That's the thing I'll always regret the most."
"Rick, you were just a kid, and you'd lost your parents. I don't think your reaction was completely unwarranted."
He was quiet for a moment, possibly pondering my statement.
"Who did you stay with?" I asked timidly, not sure if he wanted to keep talking. He lazily drew a figure eight on my back and kissed my temple.
"My father's father was the only family willing to take me in. They actually all were until that scene at the funeral home. Then it was just him. My choices were to live with him or go to foster care. I could have emancipated myself too, but I had no money to live on my own. I opted to live with him. We lived together, and he tried to apologise to me with words and expensive gifts. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. I felt like it would be betraying my parents in some way. I lived with him for two years in a mansion that was full of regret and resentment. His regret for disowning his son and my resentment for the same thing.
"He paid for my bachelors and my masters. I let him, figuring I deserved it. It was his repentance, but I shouldn't have been as cruel as I was. I never once thanked him or forgave him. That was, until he was on his deathbed. He actually left me the bulk of his estate, but the best thing he gave me was that last piece of advice. I know he'd said it before, but I was so angry I never fully grasped it. He said, ‘son, I know you don't consider me family and that pain I'll take to my grave. Let me just tell you this though, never turn your back on somebody you love, you'll never forgive yourself'. That's what I'll remember the most. Hearing it again when he was ready to die let me forgive him and helped me to move on. Does that make any sense?"
I swallowed, choking back a sob. "I think it makes perfect sense. I'm sorry, Rick."
"It's okay, sweetheart, it was a long time ago, and we all need tragedy in our lives."
"Why do you think we need tragedy?"
"Because it makes us the people we are. It makes us more real. You can't experience the power of healing if you've never been broken, right?"
I started audibly sobbing and cursed myself for it. I couldn't wipe the tear away fast enough before another took its place.
"Hey, I made you cry. I didn't mean to." He kissed away my tears. "You missed the most important point of my story, Marley."
"What's that?" I croaked.
"I'm filthy rich," he teased, kissing away the rest of my tears. He was trying to make me laugh, and it worked.
"Oh yeah? Then why aren't you a man of leisure?"
"I was, for a year when I first got the money. I told people I was finding myself, but really, I was just bumming around Europe, drinking like a fish, and hanging out with soccer hooligans."
"Soccer hooligans? I can't picture that."
"It's true, but I changed my tune after a while. My parents were hardworking people, and what I was doing was disrespectful to their memory and not the way they raised me. I went to Harvard for my bachelors and Stanford for my masters. I had high marks, so I obtained a job at Lehman Brothers. It was a great job, and I moved up fast. I discovered I was good at fixing problems. Not good enough to fix the mess they were in, but enough so that when they went bankrupt, I decided to branch out on my own. I guess that's my life story, not that you asked."
"I did ask and I'm happy to know it. I have just one question though."
"What's that, baby?"
"If you're so rich, then why are you so cheap?" I replied, putting my arms around his neck.
"Oh, I'm going to show you cheap, you little gold-digger." He tickled me, until I laughed like a hyena.
* * * *
The next few weeks passed by in a blur of activity. I saw Rick on an almost daily basis, but now we met up with Stevie and Adam or Billie and Dillon, frequently. It was strange that not only was I dating, I was double dating. It was something Stevie and I had always talked about as little girls, but I couldn't believe we were actually doing it. Rick and Adam sometimes hung out and did guy things too. I was glad they liked each other, but the shape of my relationship with Rick was anything but casual now. He had become a part of my life and in a way that I didn't mind. Rick came over for dinner regularly, and he seemed to appreciate my whacky family. I still wouldn't spend the night with him, but thankfully, he no longer made the request.
I asked Rick to be my date for Stevie's wedding. Actually, she invited him, informing him he was my plus one. Stevie was bossy with everyone.
I walked into Rick's office one day to put away some catalogues when I noticed he'd fallen asleep at his chair. I quietly bent down to look at him. I'd never seen him asleep. He looked so peaceful and sweet like this. The poor man had to be tired. He was always at the office before me, and I knew he stayed much later than I did, often coming back to work after taking me out. He was a complete workaholic, and it was obvious Henley was getting his money's worth. I stroked the soft, sandy hair over his forehead, pressing a kiss against his temple. When I moved back to look at him, his lids suddenly popped open, revealing the most beautiful, glassy green eyes staring right at me. Rick screamed and pushed me away. I unceremoniously landed straight on my ass.