Puzzle by Nora Phoenix
3
Ryder groaned as the high-pitched wheezing sound of the vacuum cleaner woke him from a pleasant dream where he’d been abducted by a sheikh for his harem. Mmm, all these naked, gorgeous guys kneeling at his feet, worshiping him and preparing him for the sheikh’s massive cock…until his mom had started running the vacuum cleaner. What a mood killer.
He checked the clock. Of course. Nine o’clock on a Saturday morning meant vacuuming. It had for as long as he could remember, and as annoyed as he was from having to wake up, he couldn’t even be upset with her. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known this would happen. Every week, like clockwork. Just like they had dinner at six on the dot, ate fish on Friday—some leftover tradition from his mom’s Catholic upbringing, his father had once told him, though what fish had to do with being Catholic, Ryder wasn’t sure—and Monday was laundry day.
That was life in the Treese household, and since it had been his own choice to move back in with his parents when Paul had kicked him out six weeks before, he could hardly complain. He’d grown up in a quiet residential neighborhood of Frederick, Maryland, in the house his parents still lived in. On a good day without traffic—also known as Utopia or when pigs flew and hell froze over—it would take him an hour to drive to work, but in reality, an hour and a half was more common and over two hours not even exceptional.
He needed to find something closer to work, but wow, the houses around McLean, where the CIA headquarters were located, were crazy expensive. Even two-bedroom apartments sold for, like, four hundred thousand dollars, and well, Ryder didn’t have that in his bank account nor the fifteen percent for the down payment. Oh, he’d have if he hadn’t been such a stupid, gullible idiot who’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book.
He hadn’t told his parents. They knew Ryder and Paul had broken up, but not the why…and he would never tell them. He could barely think about it without feeling a sense of shame so deep it made his heart clench. No way in hell was he confessing to his parents how stupid he had been to believe Paul had truly loved him. As if.
With a sigh, he rolled out of bed. His mom would vacuum the entire house, making noise for the next half hour, so trying to sleep was futile. He took a quick shower, then headed downstairs to the kitchen, where his father was reading The Washington Post at the table. “Morning,” Ryder said, patiently waiting for his father to acknowledge him. He’d never had to question whom he had inherited his hyperfocus from.
“Oh, good morning.”
His father put the newspaper down, and Ryder frowned as he grabbed cornflakes and milk. His father always read the whole newspaper on Saturday mornings. Even as a kid, Ryder had known better than to disturb him. For him to voluntarily put his newspaper down was a worrisome break in pattern. Ryder took a seat across from his dad, then dumped his cornflakes in his bowl and poured milk over them.
“Your mom and I were talking yesterday,” his father said just as Ryder had taken his first bite. Uh-oh. “You know we love you, and we completely understand you needed a place to stay after you and Paul broke up, but…”
Crap. Ryder’s heart sunk. They were telling him to leave.
“Days before you moved back in, your mom and I had decided to sell the house and downsize.”
They were moving? He hadn’t expected that. “Sell? I thought you guys loved this house.”
“We do, but we’re not getting younger, son. Your mom’s hip and knee are bothering her more and more, and the stairs are becoming an issue. It’s only a matter of time before she can’t climb stairs anymore. You know how much work the garden is, and while we’ve always loved it, we’re ready for something with less maintenance.”
Ryder swallowed. “Where are you guys going?”
“We’ve bought a much smaller house with a lovely little garden in a senior living community, where maintenance, the upkeep of the communal lawns, and snow removal are included in the monthly fee. It’s adjacent to the golf course, and several of our friends have settled there as well.”
He couldn’t blame them. His mom had retired from her job as a high school math teacher two years before, at the same time his father had stopped working. He’d worked as an engineer for NIST, a technical research facility that was part of the Department of Commerce, his whole life. This next step was a logical one, and how could Ryder begrudge them a peaceful retirement? They’d worked hard all their lives.
“That sounds amazing, Dad. It would do Mom good to have less house to clean.”
His father’s shoulders lost their tension at Ryder’s approval, a stark reminder that the man took Ryder’s opinion seriously. He always had. Ryder had been blessed with amazing, supportive parents who had always loved and accepted him. He had been his parents’ miracle after trying to conceive for years without luck. At thirty-four, his mom had finally gotten pregnant with Ryder, and after that, she’d never succeeded again. He was it, their one and only son, and he’d never had to doubt their love for him.
“It would. She needs to slow down, but you know it won’t happen here.”
No, it wouldn’t. His mom would never be able to change her routine in this house, not when her habits were so deeply ingrained. “I understand. When are you guys moving?”
“We’re putting the house up for sale this week so we can sell it before we’d have to start spring cleanup in the garden. The real estate agent says she expects it to sell fast. I’m sorry, son. I know the timing is inconvenient for you.”
Ryder took a deep breath and pushed down the panic that bubbled up. “I’m happy for you guys. You deserve this. Don’t worry about me, Dad. I wasn’t planning on being under your feet for that much longer in the first place anyway. I need to find something closer to work because the commute is killing me.”
Relief bloomed on his father’s face. “Yes, I would’ve loved to sell you this house for a good price, but it’s way too big for you…and you’d still have that long drive to work.”
Thank god for those two excellent reasons. That spared Ryder the embarrassment of having to admit that regardless of how good a deal he’d get on this house, he still wouldn’t be able to buy it, since he had no savings left.
His father went back to his newspaper, and Ryder ate his cereal, his head spinning. How much time would he have? If it sold fast, it would still have to close, so at least six weeks…but maybe not much more than that. How the hell would he find somewhere else to live in such a short time? And with so little money. The good news was that he didn’t have debts. If he kept saving his money—which he’d been planning on anyway—he’d have enough for a first month’s rent and security deposit by then. Buying was out of the question, but maybe he could find a rental? Or search for a roommate, possibly move in with someone who already had a great place close to Langley?
He mentally groaned at the idea. He’d always hated sharing a house with someone else, even back in college. They left their stuff everywhere, ate his food, made a dirty mess of the kitchen, constantly interrupted his routine… Roommates were a fucking nightmare.
Even living with Paul had been a challenge due to their differences in preferences. Ryder was a neat freak. Paul was…not, and that was just one example. The idea that at thirty-three, he was sentenced to suffering the frustration of someone else’s bad habits was…discouraging. Enraging all over again, but who could he be pissed at other than himself? Paul, but that didn’t get him anywhere.
Just as he’d rinsed his bowl and was headed back to his room to brush his teeth, his phone dinged with an incoming text. Dorian, his best friend.
Dorian:Heard you were back in town. Wanna hang out?
A waveof guilt rolled through him. He’d let Dorian know about the breakup about two weeks after Paul had kicked him out, but he hadn’t reached out to him since, too ashamed. How could he face his best friend and tell him what an idiot he’d been? Dorian had never liked Paul, and in the end, he’d been right. Not that he’d ever rub it in. He wasn’t like that. But still. The shame was real, but now that Dorian had contacted him, Ryder’s desire to reconnect with his friend won from his embarrassment.
Ryder:Temporarily until I find a different place, yeah. And yeah, I’d love that.
Dorian:Got anything going on right now? If you don’t mind a godawful mess and a cranky two-year-old who desperately needs a nap, I’d be happy to hang out at my place.
Ryder: On my way.
Ryder and Dorianhad become friends in high school, naturally drawn to each other as the two gay geeks. Dorian had become a research engineer, working at the same place Ryder’s dad had worked at, NIST. For as long as Ryder had known Dorian, he’d wanted to be a dad, and when at thirty, he still hadn’t found his forever guy, he’d decided to become a single dad. A friend of his had offered to be his surrogate and to donate her eggs, and within a year, he’d become a father to Amelia, who was the cutest girl Ryder had ever seen.
Dorian lived on the other side of town in a relatively new neighborhood with smaller single-family homes in a classic suburbia setup. The yards were much smaller than where Ryder’s parents lived, and the houses stood closer together, but the neighborhood had a cozy family feeling. Ryder parked his Tesla on the driveway behind Dorian’s Subaru, which sported a Baby on Board sticker.
Before he’d even reached the front door, Dorian had opened it, smiling broadly, Amelia on his arm. “Come on in!”
Ryder gave him a careful hug. “So good to see you.” He turned to Amelia, who had hidden her face against Dorian’s shirt. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Give her a few minutes. She’s super tired.”
Ryder followed Dorian into his house. Wow, he hadn’t been joking about the mess. Toys littered the hallway and living room, dishes were piled up in the kitchen, and on the dining table was Dorian’s laptop amid stacks of papers. If this had been Ryder’s place, he’d never have invited someone over, too ashamed of the state it was in. But Dorian had always been easier, especially since he’d become a dad.
Dorian winced. “I know. It’s bad. Amelia caught strep at day care last week, and then I got it too, so it’s been a week. But I really wanted to see you, and if I have to wait until it’s clean and tidy here, it’s never gonna happen.”
Ryder felt guilty all over again that he’d never reached out to him, but he pushed that feeling down. He was here now, and that mattered more. He studied his best friend for a moment. Dorian’s pale skin showed the dark rings under his slightly bloodshot eyes. “You look like you need a nap yourself.”
Dorian chuckled. “Dude, ever since I have her, I’ve learned to function on very little sleep. I’m fine. Can I get you some coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
“On second thought, can you make it yourself while I try to put her down for a nap? I’ll take a cup as well.”
“Sure.”
Ryder loved Dorian made him feel so at home. Not like a guest but like a true friend. Thankfully, that hadn’t changed, even though they hadn’t spoken as much as they used to the last year or so. He walked into the open kitchen, taking a deep breath at the full countertops. He might as well help out a bit while he was waiting for the coffeemaker to be done. He filled it with water and grabbed a filter and coffee, then turned it on.
Everything in the dishwasher was clean, and by opening random cupboards, he had it all in its proper place in no time. He quickly reloaded the dishwasher and turned it back on. There, that was done. A quick wipe over the countertops and stove took care of the last bit of dirt, and the kitchen looked a hell of a lot better.
Dorian hadn’t returned to the living room yet, so Ryder decided to wait with pouring the coffee. He didn’t want it to get cold if Amelia needed a few minutes to fall asleep. In the meantime, he could make himself useful. He picked up Amelia’s toys and sorted them in the stacked bins in her play corner. He found a Swiffer in the mudroom and used it to quickly clean the floors. He wouldn’t touch Dorian’s papers, but he did wipe down the coffee table.
Hmm, he didn’t hear anything. Amelia must’ve fallen asleep, but why hadn’t Dorian come back yet? He’d give him another five minutes, fluffing up the couch cushions and watering the plants. When Dorian still hadn’t returned, Ryder tiptoed up the stairs. Amelia’s door was open, and he carefully peeked around the corner. Dorian was on Amelia’s bed, holding his daughter…and they were both asleep. Aw, poor guy. Despite what he had claimed, he must’ve been exhausted.
Should he leave? Nah. Naps didn’t last that long, and Ryder would rather spend some time with Dorian than be at his parents’ all day and be reminded of impending doom. He settled on the couch with his coffee and a copy of Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!. He’d read it in college, but he didn’t mind a reread, and it would offer a welcome distraction from his housing problem.
