Free The New Elvis by Wyborn Senna Page B

doorbell sounded like the first six notes to “Anchors Aweigh”, and as Ryan stood on the flagstone porch, he wondered how many times he’d rung it since preschool. Maybe thousands. If she forgave him, he planned to ring the bell daily until they graduated from high school, went off to college, got married, and had kids of their own.
    Bea’s mom opened the door, and if she was surprised to see him, she covered it well. She was dressed in slacks and a white sweater that looked like it had been sprinkled with multi-colored confetti. Ryan looked directly at her, but it was difficult to tell if she was meeting his gaze because of her wandering eye, which always made her look like she was glancing upward, struggling to remember something important.
    “Hi, Mrs. Edwin. Is Bea home?”
    “I’m afraid she’s resting right now, dear, but come in.”
    The Edwins had a bench in their entryway which served as a last-chance spot to sit before heading out, a place to wait for someone, something to dump things on if you were just coming home, and somewhere to sit and chat if someone stopped by. Ryan sat on the edge of the corduroy cushion and cradled the flower arrangement in his arms.
    “Where are my manners? Here, let me take those.”
    Mrs. Edwin put the vase on the narrow hall table used for keys, mail, spare coins and, at Christmastime, a Hummel nativity scene. She returned to the bench, rubbing her slacks down with her palms as she walked. “Those are beautiful. She’ll love them.”
    “Excuse me for asking, but my mother didn’t know too much. All we know is that Bea has been sick. I guess Mr. Edwin told my dad, who told my mom, who told me.”
    Mrs. Edwin was hesitant. She didn’t know how much she should say and how much Bea should tell him herself, but he had been like a son for years, and seeing him again warmed her heart. “It’s good to see you.”
    Ryan brightened. “I’ve missed you.”
    “I understand why you haven’t been around, but that Kincaid boy meant nothing to Bea. They went on three dates, and after the last one, she came home crying. Apparently, he took her to a party but ended up hanging out with some other girl while they were there. You would never treat her that way.”
    Feeling respectful, Ryan nodded.
    “And you’re getting more handsome by the day. How is that even possible? You look just like a young Elvis Presley. You’ve got those dreamy blue eyes and those… Well, here I am embarrassing myself and probably you, as well.” She laughed at herself, and he liked her for it.
    “How’s the dance studio?”
    “Same old, same old. I only go in once a week lately, since Bea fell ill.”
    “What exactly—?”
    “Do you know anything about rheumatoid arthritis?”
    “That’s an old-person thing where your bones hurt, right?”
    “Well, it can strike young people, too, even when you’re in high school.”
    Ryan picked at the buttons on the cuffs of his striped Oxford shirt and listened.
    “It’s a disease that causes the body’s immune system to attack its joints. She takes folic acid, hydrocodone, Oxycontin, Naproxin, prednisone, and muscle relaxers to manage the pain, but I have difficulty controlling how may pills she takes. She’s been allocated a dozen Lortab, a dozen muscle relaxers, and two Oxycontin per day, but I think there have been days that she’s had far more than prescribed because I’ve found her passed out in her room more than once.” Mrs. Edwin started stroking her arm in a self-soothing gesture before she moved on to her hair. She combed it with her fingers as she continued. “Remember how energetic she used to be? She’s not that girl anymore.”
    Ryan felt like he’d been punched in the gut and said nothing.
    Mrs. Edwin stopped stroking her hair and looked like she was about to cry.
    “Now all she says is that she wants to die.”

Chapter 27
    Brown eyes wide, chestnut hair hanging in sweaty strands, Logan watched and waited. The men seemed enraged by