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Ricky Raydor, or Rick to his friends, was a freshman in High School when his coach first told him that his long legs would be good for Track and Field. It was the following year that a bunch of his friends entered a computer software competition and wanted him to join their team. Each member of the team, if declared winners, would get a scholarship. He took the lesser of two evils - he joined the Computer Team and unofficially joined the track and field team. He wouldn't go to the meets, but he'd still receive the training.
The computer route was to take stress away from his mother. She made sure he and Emily were always taken care of. They were always fed, dressed and healthy, despite the long hours she put in at home or at the office. Ricky mid-way through high school, when he got up one night, found his mother asleep on the couch with her files strewn everywhere. Another night it was bills instead of cases.
When the call came that his mother officially retired from the LAPD, he cried. He liked her team. They took good care of her. But it was what put her in the hospital. It was what nearly took her from him.
Andy wasn't far behind her in retiring either. His cited cause was heart problems. He claimed that one more heart issue could kill him. No one doubted it. Out of the two of them, everyone was more worried about Andy and the man knew it.
Ricky was called, texted rather, by Rusty announcing that their Mom and Step-Dad bought a house up in the hills. It was a four bedroom house that had a patio which overlooked the canyon below. Rusty mentioned once, that if someone was looking hard enough they could see the observatory from one of the bedroom windows. Both brothers decided that a police officer's salary alone couldn't afford that kind of house. Ricky didn't argue with it though.
He knew if something was going to make his mother happy, she was going to go for it. He also knew that his grandparents had set up funds for all of their children and grandchildren to do with as they pleased. As Ricky packed his bags, shoving shirts and pants unceremoniously into a duffle bag, he figured that's what his mother did. Used her money as she pleased, with who she wanted to share it with.
The house was expansive and expensive. The four bedroom house his mother bought costed her more than all three of her kid's tuition combined. He had pulled up to the address and stood outside of it for a minute or two, before walking up to the front door and knocking on it. What was inside had him pulling his jaw up off the floor.
The apartment at one point in time was home. It's distant, but he could remember bits and pieces of the house they lived in before his Dad dipped the first time. This was neither of those things. It was the house and the apartment combined. It was breathtaking.
It shouldn't have caught him by surprise, but it did; the sight of the comfortable, peaceful looking woman that came through the house had him searching for words. It was his mother with color in her cheeks, her hair swept up in a hair-do that suited her, and a smile that brightened everything around her. It was a completely different person than the last time he saw her, which was three months prior, when they were still living in the condo. This woman was content. He liked seeing her alive.
It was early morning now, as his feet his the pavement, forceful and harder with every step that took him up to the house. He thought of his father leaving them, time and time again. He thought of his mother dying on the table, with doctors surrounding her, trying to get her heart restarted. He thought of his brother coming face to face with his demon and being able to shoot it down. His feet burned as he came to a stop, doubling over.
"How was your run?" A voice asked him.
Ricky shot up, unaware he had an audience, and came face to face with his step-sister. Nicole was sitting on the steps, nursing a cup of coffee. The sun was just starting to come up. She looked warn, tired, but, raising two boys who were full of energy would do it.
"Jesus," Ricky cursed. "Warn a person, why don't you."
"Sorry," she apologized, scooting over.
Ricky shook his head; he waved his hand in thanks. He was just going to pace until he caught his breath again.
"Why are you out here anyway?" Ricky asked.
Nicole simply shrugged her shoulders. Ricky continued to pace.
"How far did you go?"
Ricky stopped and took a deep breath, feeling the burn in his lungs. "To the park and back."
He swallowed hard and gasped for air. He was getting old if this is how his body was treating him. It was an unfortunate reminder that he wasn't necessarily young anymore.
Ricky had seen Nicole briefly at their parent's wedding. She opted out of taking the family photos because she wasn't involved in the planning. She felt bad. Her and her father were still at odds, but talked. Which was more than what he and Emily did with their father.
Ricky collapsed on the step below Nicole's and leaned back. He needed to take a shower before the whole house woke up and he was going to need a cup of coffee. Faintly, he could smell Nicole's and it smelled good.
"You ever think," Nicole began. She shook her head to dismiss the thought. "Never mind."
"I think about a lot of things," Ricky remarked. "Computer stuff mostly, but that's just how my brain is wired."
Nicole laughed. She tightened her grip on her coffee cup and sighed.
"How do you not hate your Dad?" Nicole asked. "I mean, I don't hate mine. I just - I wish I knew him better. The man I know wouldn't have spent his money on this house."
"To be fair," Ricky started, sitting up a little more. "I'm pretty sure my mom bought this house and allowed him to sign his name on the dotted line."
Nicole nodded, but shrugged her shoulder, all the same. Ricky registered the apprehension in his step-sister's posture.
"I don't hate my Dad," Ricky said. "I'd like to. It would make life so much easier. But my Mom doesn't hate him. She just hates the choices he made."
Nicole nodded and drank more of her coffee. The sun was beginning to brighten over the horizon of the trees. The bird's chirps were a little bit louder. The traffic below was beginning to pick up. The day was starting over.
"My Dad," Ricky started. "Is kind of like your Dad. They're both addicts. My Dad just chooses to dance with the devil and drown at the bottom of the bottle. Your Dad put a stop to it. He's been sober for a long time now."
"Yeah."
"My Dad keeps falling off," Ricky shrugged. "It bugs Emily more than it bugs me. I think mostly because I was never really attached to my Dad like Emily was. She had this hero complex figured out and she realized it didn't add up."
t was one night when Jack was supposed to pick them up and he didn't show. Emily had cried in the living room and yelled at their mother that it was her fault. If she loved their father, their father wouldn't leave them. It was a circular argument that ended when Emily collapsed in her mother's arms. It started again when Jack showed up, drunk and demanding to see the kids.
Emily told him no. It was the first time her complex shattered.
"Your sister is like your mother in that way," Nicole pointed out. "Calculative. Needs everything to make sense."
"Yeah," Ricky agreed. "We all are, I think."
Another moment of silence fell on them. He knew, any minute or so, his mother would be getting up. She was an early riser, still. He really needed to take a shower.
"What about you?" Ricky asked. "You talk to your Dad. Why is that?"
"My husband," Nicole said. "I blame him."
Ricky laughed. "Seriously though. If I see my Dad on the street I'll greet him, but I have no need to call him up. You do."
"I don't know what it is," Nicole said. "I just miss him, sometimes, I guess."
"So he must not be all that bad if you want to give him a call once in a while," Ricky said, nudging her shoulder. "He's happy."
"He is," Nicole agreed. "We all should be happy. Not needing to beat things with our fists of feet."
Ricky looked at his step-sister and smiled at her. She had a point.
"I'm going back in." Nicole said. "You coming?"
"Yeah," Ricky said, standing up and joining her.
He showered and got dressed. He was sitting at the back patio table with his computer and cup of coffee when his mother found him. He closed his eyes at the warm hand at the back of his neck and just let her fingers work out the kinks in his neck. He took her hand in his and brought it around to kiss the back of it. He tilted his head back and looked up at her.
She was at peace, healthy, and whole.
He could stop running now.
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