Ruin

“Uh, Oma?”

“Grandma,” I corrected myself. “Sorry, my mom was one hundred percent Dutch, so when I was little, my grandma was Oma.”

Kiersten gri

At least six thousand square feet, not the largest mansion in the world, all glass windows with sharp angles, allowing for the sun to shine through. It was white and had been remodeled from its original brick form in 1927 to look like an architect’s paradise. There were exactly seventeen steps leading to the massive fifteen-foot tall oak entry, and just as I pulled the car to a stop, the butler walked out and opened Kiersten’s door.

“Ma’am, we’ve been expecting you.”

“Ronald.” I nodded my head in his direction.

He gri

“Mr. Weston.” Ronald clapped his hands on my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug. “It’s been too long, how are you?”

He knew I was sick.

But he never treated me any differently. He just refused to discuss it — I understood though — everyone in his life was gone. He and my brother had been very close. He’d taken Tye’s death really hard and I knew mine would be just something else that might cause his heart to finally give out.

“Good, I feel great,” I lied and hugged him back. “Dad home?”

“In the study waiting.” Ronald smiled and clapped twice. Two staff members ran down the stairs to grab our stuff.

I held out my hand to Kiersten. “Ready to meet my dad?”

“Holy crap.” She wiped her hands on her jeans before latching on to me. “I feel like I’m about to meet the president or something.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Trust me, it’s ‘or something’. He’s not that intimidating. Promise.” I could tell she didn’t believe me. Her eyes kept getting wider and wider as we walked farther into the house. The foyer had a bridge-like walkway that went directly toward the main room. A huge bay window let in tons of light from the front, we took a right and went to the study.

“Dad?” I called.

“In here.”

I kissed Kiersten’s temple as I clenched her hand and led her into the large study. It was decorated in an Old World style, complete with mahogany-wooded walls and matching bookcases.

Dad was sitting behind his large desk, sipping brandy.

“A little early to hit the bottle, eh dad?” I joked.

His eyes narrowed, and then he laughed. “Yes, well, I just fired Alfred, so I imagine I’m allowed to drink.”

“What?” Alfred had been one of my dad’s closest advisors for years. “What for?”

“Embezzlement.”

I cleared my throat and nodded toward Kiersten.

Dad waved me off. “Surely it’s hit CNN by now.” He tapped his desk as a flat screen descended from the West Wall. Sure enough, as soon as the TV came on, there was news about the scandal.

“So.” Dad turned off the TV. “Who is this lovely creature?”

“Kiersten.” She held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Sir?” My dad’s brows furrowed. “Do I look eighty?”

“Er, no?” She gave him a shaky smile.

“Randy.” His eyes twinkled. “You can call me Randy, just don’t call me Dad. It may cause a heart attack. I can’t imagine this one settling down yet.” He pointed at me and shuddered. “Poor boy can barely do his laundry and tie his shoes.”

“Hilarious.” I rolled my eyes.

“You can cook, can’t you?” Randy crossed his arms. “I mean, that’s why you brought her, right, son? To cook Thanksgiving di

I knew he was kidding.

Kiersten, however, didn’t.

Wide-eyed and pale, she stared at him as her mouth dropped open and then closed again. She looked at me with a hint of panic in her eyes.

I kept a straight face as did Dad.

“I, um…” Kiersten released my hand and tucked her hair behind her ear, a move I’d come to recognize as a nervous tick. She was freaking out. “I could totally put something together. I can’t promise it’ll taste like what you’re used to, but I can try.”

Damn, she was a sweetheart.

“Where’d you say you got her?” Dad said, completely ignoring her answer.

“College.”

“She’s smart.”

“I know.” I put my arm around her.

“And sweet,” Dad pointed out, walking around his desk. “And dare I say… beautiful.”

“All things I’m very aware of. It’s why I stole her away.”

“Smart man.” Dad chuckled and winked at Kiersten. “Dear girl, you don’t have to cook, I was joking. It’s all I have for entertainment these days with Wes gone all the time and his bro—”

Dad’s face went pale. “His brother is no longer with us, as I’m sure you already knew. So I do get lonely. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No problem.” She smiled warmly and patted his forearm. His eyebrow lifted as he offered his arm.

She took it, beaming up at him as if he was the damn sun.

“Now…” Dad cleared his throat, making a nice recovery. “Why don’t we get you settled in your room, and we’ll let Wes get us something cold to drink. You do know you’re welcome to stay the entire break. We love visitors, and anything you need, I’ll be sure to have Melda—” He stopped talking to Kiersten and yelled, “Melda!”

“Here, sir.” Melda came around the corner, demure as ever. She was Ronald’s wife, also late in her years, but the best cook in the known universe.

“Melda here…” Dad gestured and then directed his attention back to Kiersten, “…will be sure to get you anything you desire. Hot chocolate? Coffee?”

“Coffee.” Kiersten nodded. “Never hot chocolate.”

“Son,” Dad called back to me. “Find me one about twenty five years older and we’ll talk.”

Kiersten frowned in confusion. “One?”

“A beautiful lady such as yourself.” Dad released her hand, kissed it again, and nodded in my direction. “I think I’ll stop hogging you, and allow my son to give you the grand tour. I’ll get the drinks.”

“Thank you.” Kiersten gri

Dad smiled warmly in our direction and walked off.

“I love him,” Kiersten said once he was out of earshot.

“So does the rest of the world.” I chuckled.

“No…” Kiersten put her hand on my arm. “He’s amazing. You’re so lucky to have him. Really. I would do anything to… well, you already know that. You’re just lucky.”

Not really. I mean yes I was damned lucky to have an awesome dad. I was even more lucky that my dad was loaded enough to get me the best drugs, but lucky? I didn’t feel lucky. Not when I was giving Kiersten her first and last tour of my house. I knew how girls worked; the little wheels in her head would be turning ‘round and ‘round, imagining Christmases, birthdays, all normal celebrations. Hell, even New Year’s.

I hadn’t told anyone yet, but when I thought about 2014… When I thought about New Year’s, I couldn’t actually picture myself here. It was as if I was a shadow, no longer existing, but watching from a distance.

The sad part was the minute I watched Kiersten and my dad, I could see her years from now, still charming parents, possibly meeting her future in-laws, and it killed me inside. It actually made me think I was having another bout of nausea from my drugs, but it was all self-inflicted, because again I was reminded of what I would be missing. And it wasn’t the silly things like playing football or getting a bowl game this year.

It was her.

And that made me want to fight even more. Just like Gabe said. I could do this. I could beat it. I’d sure as hell try. In the past, fighting for football or for school had never been a huge pull for me.