in his mother’s side, he reached out an arm to embrace his father as well.
“You are our everything, Ryan. You always were – but now more than ever,” Ryan’s dad said quietly, ruffling his hair the way he had every time he’d said goodbye to Ryan.
His mom gently nudged his quivering chin upward with the side of her finger to look him in his tear-filled eyes. “Make a difference,” she said. “Love. Be loved. And be happy.” She leaned down and gave him a kiss goodbye on the forehead just like she had everyday she'd dropped him off at school.
Ryan knew he couldn’t stop them, but as the tears trickled continuously down his cheeks, one by one, he bit back down on his lip and managed to whisper, “Please, don’t go.” For the first time, he felt a twinge of real pain in his lower lip. “Don’t go,” he whispered again. He could feel himself waking, and the harder he fought it, the shallower his sleep became. “Don’t go,” he heard himself whisper aloud. He was awake.
“You okay?” Sara asked, peeking her head in the door.
“Yeah,” Ryan answered, his voice cracking just slightly.
Pretty sure everything was not okay, Sara cautiously entered his room and knelt at the edge of his bed. “Honey, your lip is bleeding,” she said worriedly.
“I was just having a realistic dream, and I bit down on it. It’s ok.”
“Are you sure?” she said reaching for a tissue. “Let me see.”
He studied her face as she stared down at his lip with genuine concern, tenderly dabbing it with the tissue. “I’m sure,” he answered.
Once she was satisfied with her nursing job, Sara glanced back up to find Ryan looking her directly in the eye. “You sure you’re ok?” she asked with a confused, almost self-conscious expression.
Then Ryan did something he’d never done before in his four weeks at the Ewing household. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her an unreserved hug, resting his head on her shoulder.
“Finally,” she thought as she hugged him back, her heart soaring inside her chest. She had been so sure for so long that it would happen, but she’d just started to allow herself to question, “What if it didn’t?”
Ryan loosened his embrace, but Sara wasn’t ready yet. She continued squeezing him, blotting the corner of her eye with the tissue she still held in her hand.
For the past month she’d stood up to the Avillage board. He wasn’t ready to start his education, she’d told them. They couldn’t push him.
Over the last several days her stand had only gotten harder, as she’d felt even more alone in her fight. Thomas, frustrated by their lack of progress, had begun to make the argument that maybe they should consider starting the board’s plan. They couldn’t possibly start making less headway with him. “Do you want them to take him?” he warned. “They can. And they will.” Thomas had slept on the couch that night.
But on this nondescript Tuesday morning, when she’d least expected it, Ryan had proven her right. In every way this was a breakthrough.
~~~
“Welcome, everyone. I’d like to call to order the first meeting of the board of directors of RTJ,” Prescott announced formally at precisely eight o’clock, the history of the moment not escaping him.
The first meeting was held in the Avillage board room two doors down from the office of James Prescott, who now stood at the head of a long, sturdy oak table with a panoramic view of the financial district as his backdrop. Seated around the table were the nine other board members. Six were early investors in Avillage – business executives mostly in their sixties and seventies. Two were chief executives of mid-sized companies. And the last was a baby-faced cardiologist in his first year out of fellowship, who looked almost as out of place in a suit as he did among the company he currently kept.
“The purpose of today’s
“You are our everything, Ryan. You always were – but now more than ever,” Ryan’s dad said quietly, ruffling his hair the way he had every time he’d said goodbye to Ryan.
His mom gently nudged his quivering chin upward with the side of her finger to look him in his tear-filled eyes. “Make a difference,” she said. “Love. Be loved. And be happy.” She leaned down and gave him a kiss goodbye on the forehead just like she had everyday she'd dropped him off at school.
Ryan knew he couldn’t stop them, but as the tears trickled continuously down his cheeks, one by one, he bit back down on his lip and managed to whisper, “Please, don’t go.” For the first time, he felt a twinge of real pain in his lower lip. “Don’t go,” he whispered again. He could feel himself waking, and the harder he fought it, the shallower his sleep became. “Don’t go,” he heard himself whisper aloud. He was awake.
“You okay?” Sara asked, peeking her head in the door.
“Yeah,” Ryan answered, his voice cracking just slightly.
Pretty sure everything was not okay, Sara cautiously entered his room and knelt at the edge of his bed. “Honey, your lip is bleeding,” she said worriedly.
“I was just having a realistic dream, and I bit down on it. It’s ok.”
“Are you sure?” she said reaching for a tissue. “Let me see.”
He studied her face as she stared down at his lip with genuine concern, tenderly dabbing it with the tissue. “I’m sure,” he answered.
Once she was satisfied with her nursing job, Sara glanced back up to find Ryan looking her directly in the eye. “You sure you’re ok?” she asked with a confused, almost self-conscious expression.
Then Ryan did something he’d never done before in his four weeks at the Ewing household. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her an unreserved hug, resting his head on her shoulder.
“Finally,” she thought as she hugged him back, her heart soaring inside her chest. She had been so sure for so long that it would happen, but she’d just started to allow herself to question, “What if it didn’t?”
Ryan loosened his embrace, but Sara wasn’t ready yet. She continued squeezing him, blotting the corner of her eye with the tissue she still held in her hand.
For the past month she’d stood up to the Avillage board. He wasn’t ready to start his education, she’d told them. They couldn’t push him.
Over the last several days her stand had only gotten harder, as she’d felt even more alone in her fight. Thomas, frustrated by their lack of progress, had begun to make the argument that maybe they should consider starting the board’s plan. They couldn’t possibly start making less headway with him. “Do you want them to take him?” he warned. “They can. And they will.” Thomas had slept on the couch that night.
But on this nondescript Tuesday morning, when she’d least expected it, Ryan had proven her right. In every way this was a breakthrough.
~~~
“Welcome, everyone. I’d like to call to order the first meeting of the board of directors of RTJ,” Prescott announced formally at precisely eight o’clock, the history of the moment not escaping him.
The first meeting was held in the Avillage board room two doors down from the office of James Prescott, who now stood at the head of a long, sturdy oak table with a panoramic view of the financial district as his backdrop. Seated around the table were the nine other board members. Six were early investors in Avillage – business executives mostly in their sixties and seventies. Two were chief executives of mid-sized companies. And the last was a baby-faced cardiologist in his first year out of fellowship, who looked almost as out of place in a suit as he did among the company he currently kept.
“The purpose of today’s
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