Love Unscripted
Page 40
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I looked over at him and smiled. He was reading the road signs trying to figure it out.
“Northwest,” I answered, unperturbed.
He looked at me and just kept shaking his head. He was dying to know where we were going and I was holding out.
“And how long do we drive northwest?” he pried.
I glanced at the time on the dashboard. “Another hour and forty minutes.”
Ryan spent a good portion of the trip chewing on his fingers. I noticed he was a fingernail biter.
“I like this car,” he said as he closed his eyes. “Seats are really comfortable. Infiniti, right?”
“Yep. M45.”
“Wake me up when we get there,” he said brusquely.
“Oh, hell no!” I poked him in his side. He jumped and flinched away from me, laughing. “You have to stay awake!”
We were about fifteen minutes away from our final destination when I pulled off into the parking lot of the local convenience store and gas station. This was the place where my family would stop before every trip to the cabin. I backed my car up to the tree line on the far end of the lot so Ryan would remain unnoticed.
“I want to get some coffee,” I replied, answering the question on Ryan’s face. “You want anything?”
“Yeah, would you get me a twenty-ouncer?” he asked, reaching in his pocket for money. I grimaced at his actions and ignored the money in his hand.
“Do you want anything in it? Cream, sugar?” I asked. I already had one leg out of the car.
“Yeah, make it a shade light and three sugars. Here, take this,” he insisted, handing a twenty dollar bill to me.
“Nah, I got it.”
“Would you at least let me buy you a damn cup of coffee?” he pleaded. I could tell he was a little upset.
“Fine,” I whispered and made a face at him. I didn’t want to argue. I slipped the money from his fingers.
While I was paying for the coffees I noticed that his picture was on the front of one of the gossip magazines. In the picture, behind him, was the front door to my pub. I grabbed the magazine and thumbed through it quickly to read what they had printed. Amongst the worthless drivel surrounding his pictures was a photo of him and the two actresses exiting my pub. I read the caption:
Suzanne is growing closer to Ryan. The two have been spending a lot of alone time on and off the set, although they both deny that they are secretly dating. The two were spotted keeping each other company October 4 as they were caught leaving a local club after a late night of partying in downtown Seaport. "Ryan and Suzanne were very close all night and seemed happy," says an eyewitness.
I slapped the magazine shut and put it back on the rack. I knew the truth; he didn’t pay much attention to Suzanne that night at all – he was too busy watching me, wearing my T-shirt, in my pub. I smiled widely; he was sitting in my car waiting for me that very moment.
“I got two sausage, egg and cheese muffins,” I said, handing his change and the bag over to him.
“Excellent! I’m hungry.”
“I figured you might be. Hey, you need to share!” I leered at him. He was already unwrapping the second sandwich while still eating the first.
“Here, take a bite,” he snickered, even though he took another big bite of the muffin before holding it to my mouth.
I made the final turn on the last leg of our trip. The last few miles of road were bordered on both sides by tall pines and thick trees; the air was scented with the fresh perfume of the woods. The leaves were just starting to turn with fall’s colors and they made beautiful hues on the windshield.
I turned onto the obscure drive to my grandfather’s cabin and stopped to unlock the metal pipe gate that blocked cars from driving further onto the property. Ryan slipped his sunglasses off his face; his eyes were wide with wonder.
“Welcome to my grandfather’s fishing shack.” I smiled at him as we drove up to the house.
“Shack? That isn’t a shack!” he declared, pointing to the house. He smiled in amazement.
Nestled comfortably in the woods was a log sided A-frame with a wooden deck that wrapped around the sides and past an enormous stone chimney. The front of the house was all windows that reflected the sunrays breaking through the trees. Off the back of the house was a raised, screened-in porch that overlooked the lake.
“It’s not that big. It only has two bedrooms,” I answered his gaze. I parked the car in the stone-covered car pad right next to the stairs that led to the deck.
Ryan helped me carry the cooler up the steps to the front door. I gave him a quick tour of the house while I turned the power and water on.
“Northwest,” I answered, unperturbed.
He looked at me and just kept shaking his head. He was dying to know where we were going and I was holding out.
“And how long do we drive northwest?” he pried.
I glanced at the time on the dashboard. “Another hour and forty minutes.”
Ryan spent a good portion of the trip chewing on his fingers. I noticed he was a fingernail biter.
“I like this car,” he said as he closed his eyes. “Seats are really comfortable. Infiniti, right?”
“Yep. M45.”
“Wake me up when we get there,” he said brusquely.
“Oh, hell no!” I poked him in his side. He jumped and flinched away from me, laughing. “You have to stay awake!”
We were about fifteen minutes away from our final destination when I pulled off into the parking lot of the local convenience store and gas station. This was the place where my family would stop before every trip to the cabin. I backed my car up to the tree line on the far end of the lot so Ryan would remain unnoticed.
“I want to get some coffee,” I replied, answering the question on Ryan’s face. “You want anything?”
“Yeah, would you get me a twenty-ouncer?” he asked, reaching in his pocket for money. I grimaced at his actions and ignored the money in his hand.
“Do you want anything in it? Cream, sugar?” I asked. I already had one leg out of the car.
“Yeah, make it a shade light and three sugars. Here, take this,” he insisted, handing a twenty dollar bill to me.
“Nah, I got it.”
“Would you at least let me buy you a damn cup of coffee?” he pleaded. I could tell he was a little upset.
“Fine,” I whispered and made a face at him. I didn’t want to argue. I slipped the money from his fingers.
While I was paying for the coffees I noticed that his picture was on the front of one of the gossip magazines. In the picture, behind him, was the front door to my pub. I grabbed the magazine and thumbed through it quickly to read what they had printed. Amongst the worthless drivel surrounding his pictures was a photo of him and the two actresses exiting my pub. I read the caption:
Suzanne is growing closer to Ryan. The two have been spending a lot of alone time on and off the set, although they both deny that they are secretly dating. The two were spotted keeping each other company October 4 as they were caught leaving a local club after a late night of partying in downtown Seaport. "Ryan and Suzanne were very close all night and seemed happy," says an eyewitness.
I slapped the magazine shut and put it back on the rack. I knew the truth; he didn’t pay much attention to Suzanne that night at all – he was too busy watching me, wearing my T-shirt, in my pub. I smiled widely; he was sitting in my car waiting for me that very moment.
“I got two sausage, egg and cheese muffins,” I said, handing his change and the bag over to him.
“Excellent! I’m hungry.”
“I figured you might be. Hey, you need to share!” I leered at him. He was already unwrapping the second sandwich while still eating the first.
“Here, take a bite,” he snickered, even though he took another big bite of the muffin before holding it to my mouth.
I made the final turn on the last leg of our trip. The last few miles of road were bordered on both sides by tall pines and thick trees; the air was scented with the fresh perfume of the woods. The leaves were just starting to turn with fall’s colors and they made beautiful hues on the windshield.
I turned onto the obscure drive to my grandfather’s cabin and stopped to unlock the metal pipe gate that blocked cars from driving further onto the property. Ryan slipped his sunglasses off his face; his eyes were wide with wonder.
“Welcome to my grandfather’s fishing shack.” I smiled at him as we drove up to the house.
“Shack? That isn’t a shack!” he declared, pointing to the house. He smiled in amazement.
Nestled comfortably in the woods was a log sided A-frame with a wooden deck that wrapped around the sides and past an enormous stone chimney. The front of the house was all windows that reflected the sunrays breaking through the trees. Off the back of the house was a raised, screened-in porch that overlooked the lake.
“It’s not that big. It only has two bedrooms,” I answered his gaze. I parked the car in the stone-covered car pad right next to the stairs that led to the deck.
Ryan helped me carry the cooler up the steps to the front door. I gave him a quick tour of the house while I turned the power and water on.
