Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 34: Ryan’s Turnaround

Chapter 34: Ryan’s Turnaround

Ryan was pacing the length of his parents’ backyard, kicking at stray pebbles and occasionally glaring at the grill like it had personally wronged him. To the casual observer, he might have looked like a man deep in thought, but in reality, he was running a mental marathon of self-doubt, frustration, and, annoyingly, Ava Lee.

"Stop pacing," his mom called from the porch, where she was arranging plates on the picnic table. "You’re wearing a trench into the lawn."

"I’m not pacing," Ryan shot back, though he very much was. "I’m... thinking."

"Thinking about Ava?" his dad chimed in, strolling over with a pair of tongs in one hand and a bottle of BBQ sauce in the other.

Ryan froze mid-step. "What? No. Why would you say that?"

His dad raised an eyebrow. "Son, you’re muttering to yourself and just kicked a pebble into the potato salad. Pretty sure that’s a sign."

Ryan groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Can we not do this right now? I didn’t come here to talk about Ava."

"Then why," his mom said sweetly, not even looking up from the plates, "did you ask if we invited her to the BBQ?"

Ryan opened his mouth to argue, but the words caught somewhere between his brain and his tongue. His parents were infuriatingly perceptive, a trait that had never worked in his favor.

"I just... I didn’t want things to be awkward if she showed up," he finally mumbled.

His mom chuckled softly. "Sure. Let’s go with that."

---

"Ryan," his dad said, setting down the tongs and lowering himself into a lawn chair, "look, we’re not trying to nag you, but you’ve clearly got some feelings you’re not dealing with. And if you’re scared, that’s okay."

"I’m not scared," Ryan lied, kicking at another pebble. This time, it ricocheted off the garden gnome by the birdbath, which only seemed to emphasize his denial.

His mom chuckled again, shaking her head. "You’re my son. I know a scared man when I see one."

Ryan let out a long, exasperated sigh and dropped into a chair beside his dad. "What if it’s too late?" he asked quietly. "I’ve already messed things up. Ava probably hates me."

"She doesn’t hate you," his mom said, sitting down on his other side. "If she hated you, she wouldn’t have come to that mixer after everything. And she wouldn’t be on your mind every five seconds."

Ryan glanced at her, frowning. "How do you know she’s on my mind every five seconds?"

"You’re pacing, muttering, and you asked if she was coming here," his dad said matter-of-factly. "Son, you’re not exactly subtle."

Ryan groaned, sinking lower into his chair.

"Do you know why your mom and I decided to get back together?" his dad asked, his tone softer now.

Ryan glanced up, caught off guard. "I figured you just... got tired of being apart."

His mom smiled, her expression unusually tender. "It wasn’t that simple. After the divorce, we both spent years pretending we were fine on our own. But eventually, we realized that being fine isn’t the same as being happy. And being happy meant taking a risk on each other again."

"It wasn’t easy," his dad added. "We had to let go of a lot of pride and fear to make it work. But sometimes, the hardest things are the ones that matter most."

Ryan looked down, his jaw tightening. He didn’t do vulnerability—it wasn’t his style. But his parents’ story hit closer to home than he wanted to admit. "So you’re saying I should just... put myself out there? What if she laughs in my face?"

"Then at least you’ll know you tried," his mom said gently, touching his arm. "But something tells me Ava won’t laugh. She’s just as stubborn as you are."

Ryan huffed out a laugh, but his chest felt tight. Maybe it was time to stop running.

---

The sound of a car door slamming snapped Ryan out of his thoughts. He glanced up to see Ava stepping into the backyard, her expression hesitant but curious as she balanced a box of cupcakes in one hand.

"Great," he muttered under his breath. "The universe has a terrible sense of timing."

"Be nice," his mom whispered, smacking his arm before hurrying over to greet Ava.

Ava looked as effortlessly put-together as always, dressed casually in jeans and a light sweater that somehow managed to look stylish instead of lazy. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she carried herself with the kind of self-assuredness that always left Ryan feeling off-balance.

"Hi, Mrs. Kim," Ava said warmly, holding out the box. "Thanks for inviting me. I brought cupcakes."

"Oh, you didn’t have to do that!" Ryan’s mom gushed, taking the box. "We’re so glad you could make it."

Ryan hovered awkwardly by the grill, trying to act casual while keeping a safe distance. Ava’s gaze flicked toward him, and for a moment, their eyes met.

"Hey," she said cautiously.

"Hey," Ryan replied, his voice a little rough.

They stood there in awkward silence until Ryan’s dad clapped him on the back. "Why don’t you show Ava around? Give her the grand tour?"

Ryan glared at his dad, who gave him a not-so-subtle wink. Ava shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

---

Ryan led Ava around the backyard, pointing out random features like the flower beds his mom insisted on maintaining and the shed his dad never used. The tour was more awkward than informative, punctuated by long pauses and the occasional sarcastic comment.

"This is nice," Ava said, nodding toward the flower beds. "I didn’t know your mom was into gardening."

"She claims it’s therapeutic," Ryan said. "Personally, I think it’s just an excuse to avoid my dad’s cooking."

Ava laughed, the sound easing some of the tension in Ryan’s chest.

But then her laughter faded, and she glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "Why did you invite me here, Ryan?"

Ryan hesitated, his pulse quickening. "I wanted to talk to you. About... everything."

Ava crossed her arms. "So talk."

Before he could say another word, a loud whoosh came from the grill, followed by his dad yelling, "FIRE!"

---

Ryan and Ava spun around just in time to see flames shooting up from the grill. His dad was frantically waving the tongs at it like they were some kind of magic wand, while his mom grabbed the garden hose and yelled, "Stand back!"

"Every time," Ryan muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Every single time."

The garden hose burst to life, sending a spray of water not only onto the grill but also onto Ryan, Ava, and the picnic table full of food.

And then, as if the universe wanted to pile on, the automatic sprinklers came to life, drenching everyone and everything in sight.

Ava stood frozen for a moment, water dripping from her hair and her now-soggy sweater. Then, to Ryan’s utter shock, she started laughing.

Not just a chuckle—a full, belly-deep laugh that doubled her over and left tears streaming down her face.

"You’re laughing?" Ryan asked incredulously, water dripping off his nose.

"This is... this is..." Ava gasped between fits of laughter. "This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen!"

Ryan shook his head, unable to stop the small smile tugging at his lips. "This is why I don’t believe in happily ever afters."

Ava straightened, still giggling. "Happily ever afters aren’t perfect, Ryan. They’re messy. Like this." She gestured to the soaked backyard and charred grill. "But that doesn’t make them any less worth it."

---

Ryan stared at her, his heart pounding. This was his moment. He could feel it.

"Ava," he began, stepping closer. "I—"

But before he could finish, his mom appeared, holding a tray of slightly singed hot dogs. "We saved the food!" she announced brightly. "Ryan, stop standing around and grab some plates!"

Ava smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Saved by the mom."

Ryan groaned, running a hand through his wet hair. "This isn’t over," he muttered.

"I’ll hold you to that," Ava said, her eyes sparkling as she turned to help his mom.

---

As the evening wound down, Ryan found himself sitting alone on the back steps, nursing a beer and staring at the soaked, chaotic backyard. The grill was a smoldering wreck, the flowerbeds were littered with paper plates, and the picnic table was still dripping from the sprinklers’ untimely debut. It was, by all accounts, a disaster.

But Ryan couldn’t stop watching Ava.

She was at the patio table, laughing with his parents. Her wet hair framed her face, loose and unpolished, but somehow more captivating than ever. She didn’t seem to care about the chaos surrounding her—or maybe, she just fit into it so perfectly that it felt less like chaos and more like life.

Ryan exhaled, a soft laugh escaping him. Of course she’d laughed through the fire, the sprinklers, and the food fiasco. That was Ava: finding humor and resilience in every mess, and making him feel like maybe it was okay to let go of his fear.

For years, Ryan had told himself he wasn’t the kind of man who could do "forever." But sitting there, surrounded by the wreckage of the night and the sound of her laughter, he finally admitted the truth to himself.

She made him want to try.

Not because she was perfect, but because she wasn’t. Because she was messy and stubborn and unpredictable—because she made him feel alive in ways he hadn’t in years.

Ryan took a sip of his beer, his eyes never leaving her. Tomorrow, he decided, he’d stop holding back. He didn’t know how it would go, but he knew one thing for certain: he wasn’t going to let her walk away without trying.

For Ava, he was ready to face the messy parts.

For Ava, he was all in.