Page 20 of Ridge's Lost Keys
“I knew you’d say that, so I made a spreadsheet.” He slid me off his lap onto the couch and opened his laptop. Sure enough, there was a spreadsheet. It showed his utilities from the time he got there until the time we met, as well as his rent.
“Why does it end here?”
“Because I want to show you how much it costs for me to live here alone. Once you started being here a lot, that data is no longer valid.”
“Oh, look at you, all sexy-math man.”
He rolled his eyes, which wasn’t his typical daddy way, making it even funnier.
“I guess I don’t understand why you’re showing me this.” Not one of the monthly totals on there was within my budget.
He pulled out another spreadsheet, which was the same as the one he just had, but with some new columns.
“This is since I’ve known you, and this month here, this was the month you were here most of the time. Now let’s look at the difference between this and the others.”
He tapped away, and suddenly there was a graph there. Daddy wasn’t joking about his math. He had all the calculations. “That’s how much more it costs for you to be here. And from what you said about your rent at your place, you can afford this total.”
“Shouldn’t I be paying 50/50?” Which was impossible, no spreadsheet needed.
“Why would you? I am going to live here regardless. That’s a fixed expense for me. Paying the amount above that is plenty.”
I didn’t like things being unfair and unbalanced, not when it came to money, but the way he said that made sense. Or, more likely, I wanted it to make sense and went with it.
“So now you have no excuse to say no. You have to move in with me now.” He put the computer down and wrapped his arms around me.
“Have to? I wouldn’t say ‘have to.’ But I want to. Does that work?”
“Yes, sweet boy, that works.” He pulled back onto his lap, kissing me until I nearly forgot my own name. Gods, it was good to be back.
From the time we made the decision, it was less than a week before we were unloading my apartment into his car and bringing things over bit by bit. I still had two months left on my lease, so we weren’t in a huge rush from that perspective, making the moving part of moving much less stressful.
I didn’t exactly have quality furniture, or much of it at all, for that matter. When we set it in the hallway, one of the neighbors came by and asked if I was selling it. I told him no, it was free. News spread quickly, and every piece went to good use, which made me happy and was a thousand times better than renting a storage unit that would cost more than the items were worth or tossing still useable pieces.
Daddy made the entire process so much easier than it would’ve been if I’d organized it on my own. He thought of everything from designating a space just for my little things to helping me incorporate the kitchen items I liked using into the ones he already had. We didn’t need two sets of bowls or pots or glasses, but we each had preferences for utensils, and it made sense to be able to use them both.
I was standing looking out the window when he came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me. I leaned back into him.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I was thinking that I am the luckiest guy in the city.”
“Oh, you can’t be”—he rested his chin on my shoulder—“because I am.”
Epilogue
Memphis
Several months after Ridge moved in, we finally had the opportunity for him to meet someone from my family. Gwen, the creator of the original blanket he loved to much And while he adored the one I’d made for him with all its lack of skill visible in every stitch, the day he moved in with me he’d also claimed the other one. My sweet boy who never wanted to be any trouble picked up Gwen’s blanket and said, “You know this is mine right?”
“You don’t want the other one?”
“Oh, I do. They are both mine by virtue of their softness and because you gave it to me to sleep with my first night under your roof.”
When we disembarked from the plane and emerged into baggage claim, there she sat, my beautiful sister crochet hook in hand and a half-completed blanket in three shades of green. Ridge let go of my hand and flew to her side. “Is it Minky?”
She held up the skein of yarn. “Touch.”
“Oh it is!” He petted the yarn gently. “You know I fell in love with your brother because of your crocheting?”
“Of course.” She set aside her project and stood up to give him a big hug. “I’m so happy to meet you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to our family. I’d about given up on anyone being willing to put up with my big brother.”
“Hey!” A tall, handsome man wearing a baby wrap, my brother-in-law Gill, came to her side. “What about us?”
She took his arm. “Oh, you know what I mean. Memphis, come and meet your niece. I’ve been telling Goldie all about her uncles and how they would spoil her rotten when they came.”
And of course we did. Gwen taught Ridge to crochet, which he took to much better than I had, and we had a week of cuddling the baby and having great meals and adventures with my little sister and her family. When she moved to Germany, she said nobody would ever come to visit. But I was so glad we had.
