Ryan Silverstone

"What's wrong darling -- feeling Ryan slipping into you again?" Kyla, strapped in beside Avon said wickedly.

They all laughed, including Avon who straightened, yawned and joked, "Does anyone have a vibrator handy."

"Yes, here we go," Nova said. "Grab my handbag from between the front seats."

"Oh no, I was only joking."

"Long and very fat, hugely fat at times," Nova said, looking at Avon in the rear vision mirror.

The other three waited for Avon's reply.

"Yes darling. You'd prepared me for that finding and I confirm it's true."

"Look after him Avon," Nova said. "He really responds to a bit of mothering."

The laughter ended abruptly when Nova asked, "When will you move in with him?"

"That's not even a forgone conclusion Nova. There's so much at stake, so much to get my head around."

Sloan struck with the obvious, saying dryly, "You would have got you head around it a few times this afternoon darling."

The vehicle wobbled because Nova involuntarily jerked the steering wheel and then the vehicle body rocked with almost hysterical laughter.

Brushing away laugher tears Nova said, "You filthy sluts, let's become pure and sing some of the road songs of our youth." She started them off with the rather obscene version of 'I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles', second verse and renamed 'The Former Virgin's Lament'. Gran had taught it to Avon who'd passed the words down the family line.

Chapter 4

Ryan called Nova, saying he was turning into Gran's street as they spoke. With pride he saw Nova running along the sidewalk to him, waving. She climbed in and they kissed and hugged and she said this day was their finale.

"Yes, indeed and I want you to promise me this: Don't wind up with a stuffy old professor as your long term mate. You are a free spirit with so much living left in you."

"You sound like my big brother."

"Strive to live happily Nova. Let's just leave it at that."

Nova introduced Ryan to an older woman, with fine features and great bearing. She spoke beautifully, too.

"You have produced a fine line of daughters, Mrs Cassidy."

"I guessed you'd have a silver tongue and when I first glimpsed you my expectations have been met. Please call me Eloise. Before the others gather I wish to say thank you for the enormous contribution you made in getting my baby back on course," Eloise said, hugging Nova.

"I simply had to hit the switch; the light was always there."

Eloise smiled graciously, shaking her head. She beckoned and a graying guy, looking athletic for his age, hurried over. "Lewis, this is Ryan Silverstone who has helped rebuild Nova's life. Apparently he's a great admirer of our girls and I heard this morning his eye is on Avon."

Ryan felt his feed turn into concrete and bells of doom rang in his ears. He looked wildly at Nova but she looked completely relaxed, her mom's arm still around her.

"Delighted to meet you Ryan. Call me Lew. Eloise told me she expected to be charmed by you. If what Eloise has heard is true you have our blessing to take Avon away from that fiend of a husband of hers who is slowly crushing her spirit and goodness. The twins want this to happen, believe me. They have told us they've spoken to you but your reply disappointed them deeply."

Big-eyed, Ryan said, "Eloise?"

"Just start the process Ryan. We want to see it happen. Now we must let you go. Others want to meet you."

Walking forward Ryan choked and said to Nova, "They know."

"I keep telling you Ryan, we are an open family. Now you know first-hand what my parents think. Just don't think their go-ahead applies to my other two sisters."

Nova said to a thickset guy, "Tremain, please meet Gran and Jed's friend and my partner of late, Ryan Silverstone. Avon you have met Ryan already."

"Yes, hi Ryan," Avon said, politely lifting her sunglasses.

Tremain smiled politely and poked out a powerful paw that was cold and felt damp and Ryan recalled hearing someone say Tremain was a cosmetic surgeon.

"Hi," grunted Tremain disinterestedly and immediately turned away to look at two nearby younger kin who were giggling.

Ryan thought he didn't have to imagine Tremain being villainous. Remove the practiced bedside smile and the guy fitted the role perfectly, no imagination required. The only problem was Tremain would flatten him like a tank if the brute and he went toe to toe.

Avon said, "Hello Ryan -- you addressed our book club remember?"

It was a lie of course and Ryan embellished the lie. "Yes I remember. You all had soft hands and perfect nails and were all dressed fashionably. None of you looked if you'd ever had to work for income."

The brute stared at Ryan. "Haven't you ever met ladies before?"

"One can never be sure," Ryan responded, drawing a light scowl from Tremain and a lightening quick wink from his lady.

"Well, what do you think?" Nova said, steering Ryan away.

"The villain, straight from the pages of a book. I would think New York is unsafe with him walking about."

She laughed and Ryan thought he'd really miss that laugh.

Gran kissed him, calling Ryan 'my man' and Jed was very friendly in his greeting and then made Ryan nervous by asking, "Are you nervous about your toast?"

"Of course he's not," Gran snorted. "He's got balls."

Gran was holding a small boy she said was Sloan's youngest and the taller girl standing shyly behind Jed was Sloan's eldest and next to her was Kyla's elder child.

Kyla arrived from the bedroom with her baby so Gran poked Jed in the ribs and he knew what that meant.

"Everyone, please be seated for Mother's Day luncheon," Jed called. "Today we honor all mothers present in this house. Have a great time everyone."

"Nova, you and Ryan sit between Gran and me."

* * *

After the main course was cleared away Jed announced a new friend of the family, successful romance writer Ryan Silverstone, would give an address before proposing the toast to mothers.

Ryan had decided to fictionalize the meeting with Avon to protect her.

Hi everyone, I'm as Jed said Ryan Silverstone. I'm thirty-eight and last month had my 38th romance novel published. In each novel there is a hero bent on doing things to the heroine that could turn her into a mother. That perhaps gives me some credibility for standing here and addressing you today because I have created mothers out of heroines and many, many sub-characters become mothers before the books end. But that's fiction.

I'm not married so there is no mom attached to me or to my knowledge a mom of my making left in my wake. Even more destructive to my credibility in earning my place here is I have no mom and no grandmothers alive. My last surviving gran died when I was twelve. My own mother died when dad's station wagon hit a train at a crossing in rural Oklahoma. Someone found me yards from the death scene that wiped out my whole family. I was in the cargo area; the rear door was torn off its hinges. Wrapped in bedding I apparently was ejected along with the door and me, being lighter went farther to land in a hedge. I was three years old.

A series of aunts and friends of mom's took turns mothering me. I still cannot explain how the authorities didn't institutionalize me. The first aunt who cared for me was a pastor's wife so I reckon that might have explained it. She was bossy enough to send the officials packing. Being an orphan I had a pretty good idea what mom's did and especially when I started grade school I cried to be allowed to have a mom like all the other kids. When I graduated high school I was still wishing I had a mom, attending that ceremony. Tough cheese, eh? But not all of us are lucky.

So why am I here? In New York visiting my publishers I received a fat commission to write a novel about a mom wanting her family home for Christmas. Wrong guy to write that, you may well think. He doesn't have a mom, practically never has had one. Well my publisher is not an idiot. He knows I write well enough to sell books by the thousands and knew my background. He didn't say a word but I knew he was thinking this guy never has had Christmas with his mom and family so will write his nuts off creating his mom and family for this book we aim to promote as our company's bestseller, ever. I must say my mom won't be cute with dewy eyes, huge love in her heart, lines on her face etched by worry and the best cook in the world.

No, I'm sorry to drop this on you Gran but my fictitious mother will be loosely based on you as I imagine you were in your prime.

There were gasps around the room and someone yelled, "You can't do that."

"Look, please hear me out before bursting out of your bra young lady. You won't recognize Gran, I promise you that. What I will be immortalizing is some of her character traits and her spirit. I have a feeling I have been sent here, the coincidences are too remarkable, and although she hasn't said anything to me I reckon Gran feels something similar.

"By God, I have been thinking about it Ryan and what I've heard you say here today has me reaching out to you and yet I know you're not family. Something really is going on here. I reckon this gathering and our family will be the basis for your story."

"Yeah, all he needs to do is to add snow," Nova yelled and almost everyone laughed.

"You'll too smart for me Gran," Ryan said, saluting her, but on with my rambling.

How is it I'm here? I'll tell you why -- chance. On the day I met my publisher the misers didn't treat me lunch. So I went across the street, right on peak hour and the place was crowed. A waitress came from speaking to two women at a table with the third chair empty and said, "Sir, these ladies are prepared to have you sit at their table. The one in the beautifully cut green suit said you appear washed, shaven in a nice suit but the tie is gaudy'. So I was seated, introductions were made and both ladies pricked their ears up when I said I was visiting Manhattan to see my publisher."

'Oooh,' said the green-suited lady. "If you write fiction you can speak to our group at lunch tomorrow. Our speaker is ill and we haven't had time for a fill-in."

I told them their group wouldn't be interested in me because I only wrote sexy romances. The other woman said 'Ohmigod, he's been sent to us from on high'. They giggled and the deal was done: the next day I would speak to their group in return for a free meal. I forget the name of the other woman but the woman in green who is here today - Avon Hungerford warned me not to be too explicit about sex and certainly no talk about fluids. Then left and my order arrived and I was left thinking what to say to a bunch of women who if they met at midday probably had never worked. I then thought I'd emphasize though my heroes learned good manners their mothers my heroines were inevitably defensive when engaged by a guy on the make because their mothers had brought them up to be careful and not to give a guy everything until they were married. So I chose the topic, 'The Influence of Mothers on My Heroines'. The two women who'd met me at the restaurant the previous day were at the door to greet me. Avon kindly warned me no liquor would be served at the luncheon so I darted off to down a couple of vodkas on the rocks. I believe my presentation went very well actually although Avon was the only one present who'd ready any of my books. But that's New York City.

About a month later I'd finished a meeting with my accountant in Buffalo at a hotel opposite the airport when I recognized Avon emerging from the restaurant who a younger look-alike. Avon introduced me to Nova, we had coffee, I offered to drive Nova home when finding she was staying an hour from where I lived. Apparently overnight she thought I could be someone who'd be good company. She knew I wasn't married so called me and I suggested she should sample the air in the forest where I lived.

"The toad, he asked Nova outright to move in with him," Gran shouted.

Oh yeah I had to front up to Gran and Jed to pass inspection. And so that's the convoluted story about how I came to be here today and speaking. As well as Nova, Gran and Jed apparently felt I was okay and we have become firm friends and not only because I had setting in mind. That came later, prompted when Jed gave me a DVD showing excerpts of years of your family gatherings, going right back. Well, let's drink. You know about half the world's population have been mothers, are mothers or will be mothers and that includes every female here today. I have to admit Gran is the oldest mom in my closer circle of acquaintances and she pressed me to deliver this toast. The toast is for all moms assembled here and, of course, moms-to-be.

Please stand every male in this room and hold your glass at the ready.

Thank you God for coming up with the concept of moms. To moms.

"To moms," toasted the men.

Ryan drew enormous applause. Gran leaned against Ryan, hugged him and whispered. "A little bit of that was bullshit. Avon told me how you two met -- she picked you up."

"Gran, use your brain. I fudged it to protect her reputation and to avoid the possibility of her husband feeling he'd have to slap her around for chatting me up."

"Oh of course, you beautiful man. God you deserve her."

* * *

At the airport Nova and Ryan had their last hug. Nova thanked Ryan for all he'd done to help her and he said he'd appreciated her company enormously.

"Come to Chicago and see me; I'll love showing you around."

"Love to do that. Give me a final kiss and I'll withdraw, leaving your grandparents to say goodbye."

The drive back to Ripley was far from depressing and certainly not boring. Gran related the story of her life to Ryan, with Jed chipping in to help her over memory lapses. The story was told luridly with plenty of breaks because of laughter. Ryan stopped periodically to make notes in his writer's log; some of the detail and Gran's phrasing were too priceless not to be recorded.

A couple of nights later Ryan came back from the bar with two large glasses of draught Guinness beer and Maeve sank her top lip into the froth up to her nostrils in one of them.

"It's not the same here without Nova," she said. "Danny's takings will be down hugely."

"Roughly the same numbers of people are here as before Nova's arrival."

"I know, but I enjoy her and her lively ways. You must have had a great time with her in bed."

"I did indeed Maeve, I did indeed. Look, I'm preparing to leave as well. There is something I'd like to ask..."

"Yes, I'll take Jack. He'll be better company than my lazy sod of a husband with that blasted TV of his. Jack won't like you going."

"I know Maeve. If he runs away and doesn't survive, then so be it. I'll be moving to an apartment in New York City and that's no place for an outdoors guy like Jack."

"Trust me Ryan. I'll feed him before I let him out. He may stay up at the cabin for a day or two but when he gets hungry he'll come back to me for food. You're going to the city after that married woman, the one Nova and her sisters called Avon. They were disgusting talking about the things you two would be doing up at the cabin. I came close a couple of times to peeing myself in laughter. The one called Sloan asked me about the other men in my life and I almost had them peeing their pants."

Ryan said, "That Avon, what do you think?"

"Well, thinking about my dear departed mom's upbringing I thought you should not be playing around with a married woman. And then I thought she's a bit too classy for you. And then I saw her eyes whenever she looked at you. I thought to myself, it could be more than the sex she wants from you, but then I'm not too sure about that. So I'd be saying this to you Ryan. Don't dally -- she wants you with her."

"Maeve, I'm hoping she does."

"Fuck Ryan, why listen to my advice based on reason and understanding women better than you when you turn off and go all humble and say you're hoping she wants you. Confuse her by going negative and she'll become uncertain about what she wants. I give you two at least a year."

"I'm hoping it will last longer than that, far longer."

"That's better Ryan. She'll be a good one for courtship. Do you know what her husband's like?"

The next day Ryan called the park board about relinquishing his lease of the cabin. There was no problem, as three other approved 'hermits' were on the waiting list for cabins. Ryan went into Buffalo to sign the documents and receive the remainder of his quarterly rental paid in advance back, less legal fees.

Three days later, termination day of his lease, he left the cabin and took Jack to Maeve. He was relieved when she said, "I've found a new home for Jack if you are agreeable -- a nice family with two boys aged ten and twelve who came in with their mom today looking for an active dog who'll be good with kids -- the boys' sister is six and the father is away a lot delivering farm machinery.

"The decision is yours Maeve. Anything to make Jack happy."

Maeve cried and wouldn't allow Ryan to kiss her, saying it was like losing a son. Ryan didn't mind, as he knew this was total Irish bullshit. As he reached the door Maeve flew at him, arms wide open.

"I've promised an elderly couple I'll call on them a minimum of twice a year," Ryan said, squeezing Maeve tightly. "When I do I promise to call in on you."

"You mean Nova's grandparents?"

"Yes, how did you guess that?"

"Nova and I didn't just talk sex. "Your lovely lady, Nova's sister -- will she come too?"

"That's my intention."

As Ryan drove off, heading for Manhattan Island, he wondered if his priorities were screwed up. Within a week he'd farewelled Nova and now Maeve and Jack. Each of them had meant a great deal to him but he thought the deepest loss would be Jack. He felt a heel abandoning Jack like this but then thought of Jack being persecuted by regulators and undoggy-like people in New York City. Then he thought what Maeve had said, boys aged ten and twelve. They would be lively lads and would give Jack all the exercise he needed and more and some of their mates would have dogs. Maeve had said the farm was run down -- ah, tall grass mean pheasants and a farm meant rabbits. Jack would have a ball. The vehicle picked up speed and Ryan began singing.

Four songs later and Ryan was done. His mood changed too and he began thinking about traffic congestion on Manhattan. He pulled in for a donut and coffee. Before that was finished he'd decided New York was not for him. Ninety minutes later he was unpacking in his studio apartment when there was a knock on the door.

"Hi, I'm Mrs Childs from the apartment next door, one of your neighbors. We have never met and I..."

She stopped and Ryan knew what was coming...'Oh, you're the popular author Rogan Stone. I possess a number of your books. Will you autograph them for me?'

But no, Mrs Childs was refreshingly different. "You're that asshole romance writer, always hogging review columns. You hate women, Rogan whatsyourname?"

"Rogan Stone, real name Ryan Silverstone. "Oh God Mrs Childs, how refreshing it is to be unmasked. Most women who meet me adore my heroines and express the urge to jump into bed with me and enjoy the treatment I believe they deserve."

"What! I can't believe what I'm hearing."

"I know but you ought to realize Mrs Childs some women are so immature and always think the next man that comes along will be better than the last one. But Mrs Childs, you and I know it is unlikely they ever will be. Women attract their types, unless it's a woman of your intellect with ability to read past postulating prose to analyze the writer's true character which is the key to unlocking reason why he screws up his characters so deliberately."

Ryan was really enjoying attempting to spellbind this uppity bitch, swamping her with verbal crap. "Look, I would love to serve coffee but I'm in such a mess."