Chapter 252: Chop Sticks
*Leave your brother alone. – Alana*
Most of the Lowery family had already arrived and were in the back party room. Chance held the large ornate red door for Rye before placing a hand on her lower back. His fingers barely brushed her thin jacket before pulling away.
“Sorry, it’s habit.” He said motioning over her shoulder where to go.
They entered the room and there was a lull for just a moment as everyone turned. Rye was accepted in with no questions. Names were thrown at her, but she couldn’t keep them straight.
There was his mom, brothers and wives, sister and husband and about a dozen nieces and nephews. Not to mention the man and woman that were both married to Chance’s brother who was not in the room at that moment. There was a large bear of a man with bows in his hair and beard and was named Molly and his five wives. Of their dozen or so children, mainly daughters, Rye recognized Priss.
As usual, where Priss was, Camille was not far away. Rye waved at Camille who sat with her parents and Charlotte. She remembered Charlotte from the luncheon the week before opening. Werewolf also sat with them and gave her a chin lift. Nervously, Rye waved back.
Sensing that Rye needed a quick escape, Chance helped her take off her jacket and then suggested that they go get plates. He was used to the large family and often forgot how overwhelming they could be.
“I’m sorry, I should have warned you about my family.” Chance said softly as they walked through the main dining room.
“You should feel lucky to have such a family. They all came here for you.” Rye smiled up at him and he had the sudden urge to kiss her. Instead, he simply smiled down at her.
“It’s the egg rolls.”
Rye laughed at him as she headed for the hibachi and sushi bars. He filled two plates and went to where she was standing. Chance slipped a tip into the tip jar for the hibachi cook. Rye accepted her hibachi plate and they went back to the group.
Before sitting down, Rye pulled a package of chopsticks and her phone out of her back pocket.
“How’s little Michael doing?” Chance asked as he watched her pull up her live feed app.
“He still has a respiratory infection. But Dr. Hamilton said that it’s normal.” Rye said as the screen was filled with a tiny baby. “It happens with the breathing tubes.”
“They took his feeding tube out.” He said as his mom leaned over to look at the screen.
“Ohhhh! He’s so cute.” Alana cooed taking the phone. “How old is he?”
“Nine weeks. Just shy of five pounds.” She said as she pulled out her chopsticks and broke them apart.
“Are you actually going to eat with those things?” Priss asked from the other side of the table.
“Yeah.” Rye expertly picked up some meat and vegetables before twirling noodles.
“My God.” Molly said in amazement. “Can you do that with rice?”
Smiling at the man next to Priss, Rye scooped up some sticky rice from Chance’s plate. Chance looked from Rye to his cousin and then back.
Shrugging her shoulders, she swallowed and then took a drink. “Dad was stationed in Okinawa for four years. We would go to the market on the Saturdays that he was off.”
A sadness settled over her. “About a year after we came back to the States, dad was sent to Afghanistan.”
Chance knew what happened in Afghanistan. Sometime between then and now, her life fell apart. As she spoke of going to the market with her dad, light and life danced in her eyes. When she thought about his death, her eyes went cold and hard.
“That’s Michael.” A familiar voice said behind Rye, and she turned towards it.
“Dr. Hamilton?” Rye asked in disbelief.
“Rye?” Mark said surprised.
“I never thought about it, but you *are* Dr. Hamilton.” Chance said turning towards his brother-in-law.
“And you would be the big bad biker that Joanna has been gushing about.” Mark said as his wife walked over and hugged him. “Hello, you.”
“Hello, you.” She replied before giving him a light kiss.
“Where’s the little one?” Mark asked as his wife snuggled into his side.
“DADA!” a toddler squealed as she made her way over to him, followed by two men wearing the Devil's Saints cuts.
The man with caramel colored skin and black ink tattoos grinned at the man with black hair and blue eyes. At the same time, they both declared that Mark was Dada.
“Why am I Dada?” Mark asked picking up the little girl. “Sweet Jesus! What did you have for lunch?”
The blue-eyed man handed over the diaper bag as he accepted a quick kiss. “Spaghetti.”
“Oh, God. Have them take that off the menu.” He said walking out towards the bathroom. The little girl continued to chant Dada.
“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sticks, one of this idiots’ brothers.” The blue-eyed man said. “This is my wife, Misty, and our husband, Kilo.”
“You get used to it.” Alana said offhand. “Our whole family is screwed up one way or another.”
“Speak for yourself.” Molly said with a smile and the family around him laughed.
“Babe,” a redheaded woman said, “you’re the most screwed up the family.”
Standing up and leaning over his young daughter between them, he kissed the woman. “And you still married me.”
“Maybe I married your other wives.” Alicia teased.
“I did.” Michaela said as she came back into the room with a toddler and a plate of fish sticks.
Rye stiffened. Without another word she stood up and grabbed her phone. Leaving the group confused, she walked out of the party room and then the restaurant.
“Dude, your date just left.” Sticks told his brother looking out the party room door.
Chance stood up and grabbed her jacket. He felt the weight of her keys and flashlight in the pocket. Whatever had her bolting out the door, did not have her planning on leaving.
Nor did it have her scared.
