sugar, yes please » ryan reynolds au «

Chapter One

"The house is all yours, Mr Reynolds." Rod, sales agent and one of Ryan's old friend, shook his hand with a firm grip. There were bright smiles all round. Ryan had just bought his new property. "Thank you so much for introducing me to this place. It's really something else." From the front it appeared modest, a simple vanilla bean Victorian house in a neighbourhood of pleasant others. The fly-screen covered doors, dark front porch, chocolate pillars and cosy rooms bought to mind a fairy-tale house made for trolls or elves, not city dwellers like Ryan. But it was love at first sight, she made his heart beat faster. He tried for a moment to imagine Jo's reaction if she was still standing beside him, it looked like the sort of house she always talked about. Something old, a project to redecorate when she was ready to settle down. But she wasn't here, and the realisation that he didn't even care anymore gave him a deviant thrill. Rod continued to smile like some man in a milk commercial, but instead of a dairy moustache he had a seventies cop 'stache which Ryan always remembered him by. They'd talked all about city life versus country life for all of the ten to fifteen minutes it took to show him around. "Perfect place to raise some kids. Taxes are pretty steep, but the schools here are top-notch." Ryan cleared his throat, "No kids yet, just my two dogs. But they're like my children." Rod had forgotten all about his friend's recent split from his wife, and Ryan sort of liked it that way, it got old telling the same story to everyone he met. "Sure. What's the hurry, right?" The titillating possibility of a new environment, a new hope, maybe even a whole new life, made sure Ryan's smile was permanently etched on his expression. "This really feels like home." His curious eyes took in every detail surrounding him. "You have some financing arranged? I can throw you a name if you want someone local. Real honest guy down at Farmer's—" "Not necessary." Ryan pulled out his wallet, removing and unfolding the little slip of paper. "No loans, Roddy. Just point me to a bank, give me a couple of days to clear this." Ryan held the check out, displaying the insurance company's logo in some sort of hope he wouldn't have to explain himself. Rod took a step closer and frowned. "Jesus, son, that's a big check." "It is?" Ryan guessed five hundred thousand dollars was a lot, not specific though. "Your last house burn down or something?" Ryan looked at him, "Construction accident." Rod reared back and looked Ryan over as if he'd missed something obvious, perhaps a limp or something that resembled trauma. "My father was an electrician." "Oh. Oh, jeez." Rod was nodding, then he stopped and ran the palm of his hand over his mouth. Ryan could see him putting it together. Living in Los Angeles. Divorce. Insurance money. Erratic behavior. Jumping into a deal. "Was... Was it recent?"

"A week ago." Rod visibly twitched at that. "I'm very sorry, Ryan. You must be—" "Don't worry about it." Ryan crossed the room and patted his friend on the shoulder as he went by. Suddenly wishing to be out of this house, out of town, back on the road. Rod caught his arm and held him back. The big realtor's grip was gentle, but it stopped Ryan and made him look up. "Hey. Nothing would make me happier than to sell you this house today. But I wouldn't be doing my job unless I asked. I can sit on a property. You want to maybe take some time on this?" "I appreciate that." Ryan looked out the picture window facing the street, and the enormous tree blocking the view. "Dad traveled a lot for work. Sometimes out of the state. Then one time he didn't come back, haven't seen him since I was six." He turned back to Rod. "Hey, what say let's just pretend I won the lottery or something, huh?" Rod grinned and offered his hand, Ryan shook it and held it longer than usual. "This is a fine town full of nice people, Ryan. You're going to make a good life here."

"Thanks, Rod. And thank you for you help." Shit. Now Ryan really did feel like crying, but that was just gratitude, not grief. He swallowed it down. "You hungry?" "Starving. You?" Rod slapped his belly. "My man, I love to eat. You know that."

They went to find lunch and Ryan's stomach did a gleeful flip. It was time for a fresh start and the setting was perfect.

~• ~

The dogs settled in straight away, Baxter and Billie, Ryan's ginger rescues, were completely smitten with him in every way. "Welcome home, babies." Ryan happily announced as they bounded in through the open door. After a short walk round the new neighborhood, and a quick stop at the park, the two were still full of energy and Ryan shook his head. They soon settled by the couch and their owner went about cooking some dinner for himself, he'd picked up enough food at the gates of hell—Walmart, so he didn't have to go back for at least a week. When he'd just about finished his last mouthful of food, Billie and Baxter barked excitedly over a knock at the front door, Ryan cautiously went to answer it. A woman was standing on the porch, behind the gauze curtain he'd installed last week. "Ryan, everything okay?" The voice was country-sweet. Ah yes—Gail Grier, his new next-door neighbor. Ryan had met Gail and her humongous husband, John, three minutes after staggering out of his car, foggy from his drive from California. He'd remembered how overwhelmed he'd been by Gail's politeness. "You left this on the sidewalk, do you want me to put it on the porch here? Don't want some stranger picking it up." She waved a photo at him, one of Ryan and Jo. Smiling and content. Must of fallen out when he was moving things in. Ryan was about to tell her to throw it in the trash. "Sorry about that, phone was ringing. Thanks, Gail." He opened the gauze and smiled, accepting the photo and shoving it in his back pocket while she plowed on. "I hate to bother you—I'm sure you're still unpacking. Do you need any help getting settled in? Must be hard doing up this old house by yourself." The dogs broke out and clobbered Gail was affection. "Okay, Billie. Baxter, stop that." Gail only encouraged them and Ryan smiled even more. "Look at them go! How sweet! They're beautiful. Oh, they must be so happy here. Plenty of space to run around and cause mischief." It was this immediate taking to his dogs that persuaded Ryan to invite her in properly. "I'm sorry, you're just standing there. Would you like to come in? I have ice tea." His neighbor flapped her hands. "Oh, no. Listen, I just saw you rush inside and I wanted to make sure everything was alright."

"I was up late unpacking, and didn't sleep well. Been a mess all morning, and..." He trailed off, taken by the motherly look in her eyes. She wasn't just listening to him, she was hanging onto his every word. Without meaning to he just blurted out. "My wife and I just got divorced." "Oh, no. I'm sorry, Ryan." "Ah, yeah. Well." He breathed, "This is my fresh start. But, hey, at least I have my mutts." Gail smiled. "We're having the Bartholomew's over for roast beef, even though it's summer. It's kind of our tradition. Have you met them? Across the street?"

"I haven't really met anybody." Ryan admitted, bending to stroke behind Baxter's ear when he sat at his owner's feet. "Oh, you have to come over! It'll be so much fun." "Um, that sounds great, but don't wait for me. I have to finish this... thing." He didn't have a thing but he already wanted out. What could be worse than having dinner on your own with two other married couples he hardly knew? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. "You're very kind." She slapped his hands. "I'm not kind, this is what we do. You don't know it yet, but you live next to some of the best people you'll ever know. Anytime after seven is fine. See you tonight, Ryan!" He watched her goofy garden crocs flap across the yard, and he went back into the house. Guessing it was about time he made some friends here.