Page 36 of The Best Parts of Him
The door opened a few inches, and Ryland Zervudachi poked his head inside, wearing the square-shaped, pink-and-turquoise sunglasses Dabbs had purchased for him at Frozen Fest. “Hi, doggies. Hi.” He slipped into the foyer, careful to block the exit with his body, which Dabbs appreciated because his dogs were closet escape artists. Ryland shut the door behind himself, set his backpack aside, and crouched. “Hi, guys.” Cosmo sniffed at his outstretched hand while Castle kept barking.
“Castle, settle,” Dabbs commanded from his prone position on the couch. It was as far as he’d gotten when Roman Kinsey had dropped him off after picking him up from the hospital an hour earlier.
Ryland set his sunglasses on the table by the door and glanced over at him, and Dabbs nearly fell headfirst into his smile.
“Hey.”
Dabbs replied with a two-fingered wave.
“How are you feeling?”
“I can’t stand upright,” Dabbs told him. “So that’s fun.”
Ryland chuckled and crouched again to pet Castle when the dog finally deemed him safe enough to approach and nosed at his leg. “I had my appendix removed when I was a kid, but I don’t remember much about it.” He brought his backpack to the armchair across the coffee table from Dabbs and dug through it. “I remember Jason didn’t leave my side much, and I remember my mom didn’t come visit me at the hospital or at home once I got out.”
“Did she live nearby?”
“She was already living in France by then,” Ryland said, removing a sling from his bag. “I remember being pissed that she wasn’t there. Took me years to understand that it’s a long and expensive trip, and it probably wasn’t worth it for something that wasn’t life-threatening.”
Dabbs frowned at that, unsure how to respond. He couldn’t imagine being a kid recovering from surgery and wanting your mom there, only for her not to show up.
Ryland slid the strap of the sling over his shoulder, propped his arm in the pouch, and regarded Dabbs. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”
Dabbs laughed, then winced as it aggravated his surgical incision. “No problems getting your rehab transferred to somewhere in Burlington?”
“Nah. Your AT came through with recommendations for local athletic therapists, and mine got in touch with one of them. She’s going to take over as of tomorrow, and I’ll see her once a day for as long as I’m here. So? Can I give myself a tour?”
“Go for it.”
The dogs trailed after him as he walked out of the living room with its cozy sectional and cozier armchairs and into the kitchen. Dabbs could just see him through the gaps in the staircase railing, opening cupboards and cabinets and even the pantry.
“What’s this?” Ryland held up a bag of bread.
“Apple bread.”
“It weighs a ton.”
“It’s the best thing you’ll ever eat.”
Ryland brought it up to his nose. “Smells good. Is it from a local bakery?”
“It’s from The Big Apple.”
“You order this from New York?”
Dabbs swallowed a laugh so he didn’t aggravate his incision again. “No. The Big Apple is a roadside attraction off Highway 401 in Ontario. They’ve got a bunch of shops and activities—a petting zoo and mini-putt—and they make pies and breads on-site. Including that.”
Ryland stuck his head in the freezer. “There are two more loaves in here.”
Only two? Dabbs needed to place an order soon.
“I buy it in bulk,” he said. “They only ship to a few cities in and around the Greater Toronto Area, so I have it sent to a friend who lives in Toronto, and he ships it to me.”
“That’s a lot of work for bread.”
“You’ll understand once you try it.”
Ryland returned to poking through cupboards before he wandered to the back door, where Dabbs couldn’t see him, but he could hear him asking the dogs what their favorite poop spots were.
