The air was blustery, and the sky was gray. Soft thunder rolled in the distance; the threat of rain was looming over them. In Newport, this would have been a surprise. It never rained in Newport. But here in Berkeley, there were actual seasons, and actual weather to go along with them. Sometimes, the weather also matched the mood. And today, at this moment, at this funeral, the weather couldn't have been more fitting. A small crowd of people stood around the grave, dressed in dark shades that mirrored the clouds above them. Bystanders filed forward to place flowers on the coffin, filtering back into the mass until they were indecipherable amongst the other grief-filled, black-clad mourners.
Ryan hated funerals. Marissa's had been his first, back when he was still a teenager. That one had cut deep; the scar on his heart had eventually healed, but it certainly wasn't pretty. Two years after her death, his brother, Trey, had been killed trying to break up a bar fight. As the sober bartender, he felt he had a duty to stop the struggle; he didn't even see the knife. Then came Dawn's, six months later. His birth mother, even with all the effort to turn herself around and live a clean life, couldn't escape the demons of her past. Each time a coffin was lowered into the ground, another part of Ryan was buried with it. Some were bigger than others, but the circle of life was slowly taking away anyone who had been a part of Ryan's life.
Ryan felt a little hand slip into his, and looked down to see a serious-looking Sophie. The five-year-old looked just like Kirsten…and a little like him. They both had those blue eyes, sometimes completely unreadable, other times wrought with unmasked emotion. She was such an active little girl, full of energy and life, but today she was somber, because she knew her family was hurting. She didn't quite understand what was going on, despite Sandy's repeated attempts to explain death, but she understood enough to be respectful and silent as she stood by Ryan's side. She looked up at him, nodding her head a little, wishing she could make him feel better, like he always fixed her up when she fell and hurt herself. Ryan nodded back, attempting a weak smile at the little girl. He could tell that she was trying to be strong for him, and he appreciated it. Someone brushed up against the left side of him, and he looked over to see Seth standing next to him, barely touching his arm. He knew this distance was very well calculated; Seth wanted Ryan to know he was there for him, but he was giving him his space as well. He, too, knew what Ryan was feeling and how exactly to support him.
Ryan looked across the rectangular hole in the earth to where Julie, Kaitlyn, Bullit, and Justin stood somberly, with Sandy and Kirsten next to them and Summer and Taylor off to the side; Summer's engagement ring glistened every time she shifted her hands, catching what little sunlight there was. It seemed out of place among the somber looks and black clothing they all wore. Ryan's gaze moved to Justin; his first though was that the boy looked a lot like Julie - he was already tall and lanky for his age, and he didn't have any of Ryan's stockiness. Technically, Justin was his half-brother, though Ryan never thought of him like that. He was Julie's son, and therefore just a close family friend. It was easy to forget they shared the same blood. When he had needed to explain his family to friends at school, and now at the office, he only had one younger sibling, and her name was Sophie Rose.
Frank Atwood's coffin, covered in flowers, was lowered into the ground. Although most of his life had been spent in Chino, he wanted to be buried in Berkeley, close to his sons. In the past few years, he had worked for Bullit and helped turn his Berkeley office into one of the most profitable in the country. When Julie had ultimately chosen Bullit two years ago, he had stepped aside gratefully. He stayed around to be close to Justin and to continue his work. He even attended their wedding. He was doing really well for himself, raising his son and turning his life around. Then, a week ago, without warning, he had a heart attack.
Today, Ryan looked over the somber scene and came to a realization. Everyone, every remnant of his past life, his life before the Cohens, was gone. His mother and father, Trey, even Theresa (she hadn't passed away, but she had long ago lost touch. Ryan didn't even have a phone number). As the ceremony ended, Seth carried Sophie over to talk to Kaitlyn and Justin. The other mourners chatted amongst themselves, and Sandy approached Ryan.
"How you holding up, kid?" he asked, looking at his son with concern. Ryan tried a weak smile.
"I'm okay. I'm just glad that it's over." Sandy nodded in understanding. He wrapped his arm around Ryan's shoulder and started walking with him to the car in comfortable silence.
"Sandy?" Ryan asked. He stopped walking, turning to face the man who had taken him into his home almost a decade earlier. "I was thinking today. Everyone, Trey, my mom, now my dad, they're gone." Sandy started to say something, trying to comfort him, but Ryan stopped him. "No, I'm okay, Sandy, really. That's not it. The point is, there are no more Atwoods. There's nothing, you know, holding me to that life." Sandy looked at him, a question in his eyes. Ryan continued, "I think it's time I changed my last name." Sandy smiled, pulling his middle child into a hug. "It's been almost ten years since I came to live with you…I guess it's time," came Ryan's muffled words from inside Sandy's embrace. Sandy let him go, his hands on Ryan's shoulders.
"You've been a Cohen for a long time. You know that, right?" Sandy asked, looking Ryan in the eye. "But I'm so happy you decided to make it official, son!" Ryan smiled, shyly adding, "Frank may have been my father. But my dad's standing right here." Sandy led Ryan over to Kirsten, Seth, and Sophie to share the happy news. There were hugs all around, and a "That's awesome!" from Seth. Sophie, who had never understood why Ryan called their parents "Sandy and Kirsten," or why he had a different last name, was relieved. Now she wouldn't have to try to explain the situation whenever teachers would wonder who the strange man was picking her up from kindergarten.
Ryan left his family to talk to Taylor, who was standing over with Summer. He smiled at her, taking her hand and leading her to a quieter spot. She had returned from France about six months before, and she and Ryan had quickly and happily settled into their old routine.
"I'm changing my name," Ryan said suddenly as they walked along. Taylor looked up at him, surprised.
"To Cohen?" she asked. Ryan nodded, looking at her face for a clue as to how she was feeling.
"Is that okay?" he asked her, trying to read her emotions. She smiled at him.
"Of course it is! Why wouldn't it be?" she was genuinely happy for him; she knew that this was the final step in him finally, unquestioningly, letting his guard down and accepting the life the Cohens were offering him. They had been his guardians, and his family, for years, but the name change was significant. The last piece of the puzzle.
"Because, I didn't know if you'd have a problem with being Mrs. Cohen instead of Mrs. Atwood," he said, grinning at her shyly. They had talked about getting married when she had returned from France, but hadn't set any definite plans. Taylor didn't wear a ring, and both wanted to finish graduate school first, but they were pretty committed to one another. She grinned back at him.
"I think I like that even better. Besides, then Summer, Kiki, and I will all be Mrs. Cohen!" They walked hand-in-hand among the graves, reading the stones and enjoying one another's company. They came upon a freshly dug site, the headstone marking the final resting place of a seventeen-year-old girl. Both thought immediately of Marissa; Ryan, because she was on the forefront of his mind when he was in a cemetery, and Taylor, because she knew what Ryan was thinking.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly. Ryan nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"We're growing up, Taylor, moving on, and she's stuck in Newport. I came to terms with her death a long time ago, but not the fact that she's missing so much; she won't be at Seth and Summer's wedding, or ours, and she doesn't even know that Sophie was born, or that she has a little brother. All these changes; she should be here," he returned to silence, surprised by the outburst. He was still a man of few words, and these tirades were few and far between. Taylor laid a hand on his arm.
"She knows, Ryan. She knows about all of it, and she's always with us. She'll be at Seth and Summer's wedding, and at ours. She knows about Sophie and Justin, and she looks after them. She knows," she tried to comfort him, knowing her words sounded empty and cliché. He had a point; it wasn't fair that she went so young.
"I'm okay. It's just this day. I'm sick of goodbyes," he put his hand in Taylor's and they walked back toward the dispersing crowd. He could see five people standing there, waiting for him. Sandy with his arm around Kirsten, Seth holding Sophie with one arm and Summer's hand with the other.
"Let's go home, okay? Your family is waiting," said Taylor, leading him towards the little group. When they joined them, Sophie jumped into Ryan's arms and hugged him tight.
"Ready to go home, Princess?" he asked her as she nuzzled into his neck.
"Ready, big brother," she said through a yawn. Ryan looked back on the sea of graves, saying goodbye to everyone from the past, putting those ghosts to rest.
"Let's go, then, Cohens."