Title: Imprints
Author: Heath07
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Everything is owned by FOX and The Schwartz.
Summary: Ryan and Anna meet for coffee. A disorientated piece of fiction. Crap summary.
Notes: Thank you bluestargirl6 for beta-ing this. All mistakes are mine.
The air felt thick and damp like the napkin in Anna's hand. She took her time flattening it against the glass table to remove the creases only to pick it up again a minute later and twist it in her hands. They were meeting at a place halfway between Chino and Newport, somewhere that allowed children, but still had a nice atmosphere. Anna looked at the blank faces around her, she couldn't distinguish from one person to the next. Everyone seemed the same: equally sullen and tired.
She sipped her iced-cappuccino. Her grandmother had died, as suddenly and peacefully as anyone approaching eighty and holding onto the brink of sanity could. They hadn't been close. That was the truth. She'd barely seen her growing up. Her mother had placed her in a nursing home when Anna was eight. She remembered her as a woman of few words with large blue eyes and a sarcastic smile. She was half-crazy by then already. Anna suspected she would have enjoyed her company if she had gotten the chance. After the move to Newport, after they'd gotten settled, her grandmother was transferred to an upscale facility overlooking the beach. It was better for her to absorb the hot air all year long. The winters were killers for her arthritic hands, her mother had said. After Seth, Anna had gone back to Pittsburgh and had enjoyed the winter just fine. The cold helped freeze out her thoughts on the matter.
Her grandfather still lived in Pittsburgh, in the house he and his wife had lived in together for fifty years. Anna visited him often. He was a thin man with thick glasses and sad eyes. She suspected he was lonely, though, he never said as much. She wondered what it was like to have the person you loved most in the world in another state as they faded away inside their own mind.
When Anna was a child she used to pester her grandfather with questions, making him tell her stories of how the earth was made and about Greek mythology and all the Gods. He'd been a mythologist, had written textbooks for universities, and sometimes, was a guest lecturer at Penn State. Anna had always admired him and his ability to make stories come to life. Since then, he had gone deaf in his right ear and his glasses were getting thicker with every visit to the optometrist. Anna wished she'd asked him about something more important, something real. What was it like to love someone completely? How did it feel when he lost that love? It was still in his heart, she was sure of it, but the physical reminder was gone. And now it was final.
Anna had come back for the funeral...and to see Ryan. Her grandfather was too weak to make the trip.
She'd kept in touch with Seth, Summer and Ryan. E-mails were enough for Seth and Summer. With Ryan, she liked to hear his voice. She'd felt a connection with Ryan ever since rehearsals for Cotillion. At the carnival he'd tried to give her advice about Seth, the same way she tried to help him with Marissa. They both knew it was doomed. The one class they had in school --without Seth or Marissa or even Summer there to distract them--was spent chatting and making fun of their senile teacher. Ryan was surprisingly funny when there wasn't a crisis to keep him occupied. It was where they really began to bond. They were friends. And that's all it ever was. He'd been too wrapped up in Marissa to notice her, or so she'd thought. Because when he hugged her goodbye, he held on a little too long and looked at her a little too sadly. And she knew he felt it. That connection.
They'd talked about things she'd never been able to tell anyone. And it wasn't just her. Ryan had talked too. There had been three AM conversations where she talked him through insecurities and doubts in the weeks before the baby was born. And then after, when Theresa was sick and the baby was suffering from colic and wouldn't settle, Anna had talked him through that, too. Those made her ache the most. Those three AM heart-to-hearts. She suspected he told her more than he told anyone else. Not even Seth knew how terrified he was. Maybe because she was so far away. Or maybe because he didn't have to look her in the eyes when he said how scared he was of becoming his parents...
A guy in the corner--his hair in his eyes, the laces of his Converse sneakers shredded and full of ink scribbles--strummed his guitar, lulling everyone in the café into a trance. Anna was not immune. Her eyes felt weighted as the musical runes faded and sank into the scuffed floorboards.
Anna was half in love with Ryan if she was honest with herself. Half in love and not a hope in the world of anything ever being able to develop between them. Ryan was practically married and the baby was six-months-old now. Anna had seen pictures and heard him gurgle across staticky phone lines. Ryan said he was happy, and even if Anna thought she heard a hitch in his voice, once or twice, she knew he was at least trying to be.
Anna touched her hair, running her fingers through its growing length. Re-crossing her legs, she tried to keep herself from feeling exposed in a shirt that was too low-cut to just be meeting a friend for coffee. There was no reason for her to be this nervous. Her heart felt like it was beating twice its normal rate. And then, when she thought her heart couldn't beat any faster, she spotted Ryan wheeling a stroller outside the large plate glass window.
He looked different but the same. More mature? Less insecure? Less intimidating? Anna wasn't sure what it was. She was wont to look more closely. Everywhere. His body, the gestures he used, the way he moved. His eyes. It wasn't the vision she had of him at night while she tried to come without feeling guilty about Theresa. It wasn't the picture of Ryan she had as her eyes rolled back in her head and she bit her lip to keep from screaming and waking up her aunt and uncle.
For the first time the picture was too real.
The door opened and a group of women at a table closest stopped in the middle of their conversation to watch as Ryan wheeled past them. Anna listened to them giggle and point and wanted to call it pathetic, but in a minute she knew she'd be doing the same.
"Ryan!" She leapt up and latched onto him before she had a chance to think it through. She inhaled his scent and swore she caught a whiff of baby powder.
"Hey, Anna," he said, in that low voice she was so used to hearing sound farther away. It was clear and crisp and unmarred by telephone wire. It nearly brought her to tears.
Anna stepped back and smoothed her hands down her shirt, pulling at it uncomfortably.
They stood looking at each other for the longest minute in history. Ryan's eyes scanned their way down Anna's torso and then back up to her face, latching onto her eyes.
His eyes were even bluer than Anna had remembered, and not nearly as sad. "Hey," she said and smiled.
"Hey," he said again and smiled to match hers.
"You look good. You don't even have bags under your eyes. I hope you're not letting Theresa do all the work around the house."
"Hardly. She kicks my ass when I need it," he joked and laughed. It sounded distant.
"I'll bet."
Ryan looked down at the stroller and then back to Anna. "Wanna see him?"
"Are you kidding?!"
Ryan smiled again and it felt good to be able to make him do that.
She could hear her own laughter, hollow and thick, trailing him as he bent down; could see the anticipation hanging in the air, smell the fresh newborn scent wafting up as Ryan untangled the infant from his blankets. She observed Ryan's hands as he lifted the baby out of the stroller. There wasn't a ring on his finger. At least not yet.
Ryan held the baby against his chest, his head lulling as he came to from a nap.
Fine blonde hairs were matted to the baby's forehead. He opened his eyes and they were bright blue; it was like staring into smaller versions of Ryan's eyes -more innocent and less knowing. They were heavy with sleep and milk, twinkling against the shine from the overhead lighting. Winnie-the-Pooh overalls covered his torso and white walking shoes kept his feet warm.
The fuzzy pixels they passed through the computer didn't do the baby justice. He was just...beautiful. He was all Ryan. Except for his smile. That belonged to Theresa. However, Anna didn't doubt for a second that by the time the baby was three he'd have Ryan's glare down. He'd grow to idolize Ryan and copy his actions like all little boys did with their daddy. Ryan was worried about that...worried he wouldn't make a very good role model.
"This must be Alejandro." She reached out, touched his cheek, the smoothness of it making her own skin seem rough in comparison.
"Alex," Ryan amended. "No one calls him Alejandro except for Theresa's mom and even then it sounds strange. It's a big name for such a little guy. That's what Theresa always says."
"Alex, then," Anna said, unable to take her eyes off the infant. "God, he's so beautiful, Ryan."
Anna watched Ryan's eyes, saw the way he looked at his son with pride. There might not have been a ring on his finger, but there was one on his heart. Theresa, Ryan and Alex were a family.
"Thanks. I don't really know what to say to things like that."
Anna cleared her throat, swallowed past the lump. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything."
She laughed it off and hoped he hadn't heard the hitch in her voice. Keeping her eyes on the baby so she wouldn't have to look at Ryan, Anna couldn't tell what Ryan was doing. Unable to stand it any longer, she looked up and caught his eye. He was staring at her and not the least bit bashful about it.
"What?" She felt her cheeks get hot.
"Nothing."
Anna shook her head. "You're strange."
"Maybe," he said, shifting Alex to his shoulder and rubbing his back. Pushing the stroller to the side, Ryan sat down. Anna took the seat across from them.
"So, how're you doing?"
Anna thought about the question. How was she doing? Right now? not so good. But that wasn't what he wanted to know. He wanted to know how well she was dealing with the death of her grandmother. "I'm fine; can't say the same for my mom, though. And my poor grandpa. He couldn't even make the trip. It's weird when someone dies, kinda makes you realize that we're all going to die one day."
Ryan was quiet but Anna could feel his eyes on her. "Sorry, that was a weird thing to say."
"It wasn't weird. I mean, we both know Seth, right?"
Anna tried to smile past her embarrassment. "True. How is he anyway?"
"Fine. Summer's trying to convince him to go to the University of Hawaii."
Anna nodded, she vaguely recalled an email on the subject. "I've heard. Think he'll go?"
Ryan's face left no doubt. "It's Seth; he'll do anything for her."
"Yeah," she said fondly, "it's kinda sweet. You must feel that way."
Ryan looked at Alex, touched his head affectionately. "About Alex? Yeah, I do."
Anna cleared her throat. "I meant Theresa."
Ryan looked up, but didn't respond.
"Sorry," Anna said, even though she didn't know what she was apologizing for. It just felt like the right thing to do.
Ryan shrugged it off. "Do you want to hold him?"
"What?
Ryan seemed to find amusement in her discomfort. "He won't bite; he doesn't even have any teeth yet."
Before she had the chance to protest, Ryan was getting up and coming around the table, handing Alex off. Anna took him in her arms. He was heavier than she imagined as he twisted and turned in her arms. Clutching onto her, he smiled real big like happy babies do. His eyes were large and full of wonder as he stared at Anna. She couldn't stop the smile that spread over her face even if she tried.
"Hey, little guy!"
Anna's attention wavered to the waitress that had just approached their table. She was different from the one that she'd ordered her iced-cappuccino from earlier.
"Who's the handsome boy?" Baby talk. Anna let her eyes travel to Ryan. Ryan looked entertained. He was used to it.
"Aren't you just the cutest wittle guy...just like your daddy." At this, Anna laughed. "I could just eatchuallup!"
After the woman had her fill of Alex's smiles and cooing, she straightened and turned her attention to Ryan. "He's just darling!"
Ryan shifted in his seat and let out a quiet thanks.
"What can I get for you?"
"Just coffee. Black, please."
"Sure," she said, writing it down and looking to Anna. "And for mom?"
Anna was speechless. Wait...she thought... Oh, God. This woman really had no idea how far from the truth that was. She instantly loved this woman. A stranger who knew nothing of them or how separate their lives really were.
"I'm not..." Anna didn't know how to continue. She looked at Ryan for help, but he offered none. "I'm fine, thanks," she said and looked away.
"Be back in a minute." She turned to go and Anna looked at Ryan apologetically.
"Sorry, I didn't know what to say."
"It's okay." A long minute passed before Ryan ventured to speak again. "I wouldn't trade Alex in for anything, but I wish things could be different... " He didn't continue and Anna didn't need him to. She knew.
Anna wished her life was a little more like those romance novels Summer was always trying to get her to read. Anna wondered if she gave the same advice to Marissa... If life were like those books, she would look Ryan in the eye and call him a thief. Then, his voice would get husky (because all mens' voices got husky when they were about to kiss you in those types of novels) and he would ask her what it was he'd stolen. And then, she would giggle and look away, turn back to find his chest heaving and his lips inches away from hers and she'd demurely say: 'my heart.' After that would come the kissing and everything would be wrapped up in a nice pink bow. If only it could be that simple. Anna really needed to stop taking Summer's advice.
For all her misgivings about that particular genre of fiction, maybe those women had a point... Maybe she should just tell Ryan how she felt. She wished she could reach across the table and take his hand, tell him what it did to her when she looked into his eyes. How sad and happy it made her at the same time. Instead, she smiled.
The music had stopped. Anna hadn't noticed until just then. The guitar was being put away. One of the strings had snapped and it hung from the guitar, a long silver trail, wildly shaking and crying with a broken song.
Anna listened to the stillness that surrounded her. Conversations, whispered confessions, shifting feet, all magnified and as loud as shouts in the paralysing silence. It was a terrible thing to carry that stillness in her heart. It made everything seem so far away and every mistake amplified to the thousandth degree.
Her thoughts moved to her grandparents. How could they live apart? And what about her grandmother? how had it felt to live amongst strangers? Anna should have asked more questions. Her grandfather would have answered in his patient way, answered how he used to answer her questions about the earth, about the Gods: Helius, Aphrodite, Ourea and all the rest, and how everyone came to be. She couldn't ask now. It would hurt him and he had been through enough. Nine years without being next to the person you loved was enough to break anyone. Anna had the rest of her life to find out how that felt.
Anna considered herself a bit of a packrat. It was too hard to throw things away. Everything had meaning behind it. So, really, it was no wonder that she was beginning to amass a large quantity of heartaches. She collected them. Ryan was just one more to add to the growing pile. Maybe that was what life was all about, what love was about...the little imprints each person leaves on another, little collections of things that reminds us of how things use to be.
Love unrequited was like a guitar with no strings. A song that would never be played. Loneliness.
Anna watched at the case closed and the guitar was gone from sight, the broken string escaping the side of the worn brown leather.
Anna looked back at Ryan, held his eyes. She stopped breathing. Her lungs burned. That wasn't what Ryan and Anna had. Not love unrequited....something else. It came to her what they were as she heard the echo of music long faded. They were separate, but still together, like her grandparents had always been; always connected even if they weren't really together, still bound even if one of the strings were broke.
end.