Chapter 2
Ryan was tempted to sneak around the back of the house and head straight to the pool house when he got back to Newport, but he had to return Kirsten's car keys. He hoped to escape through the kitchen without running into any of the Cohens. They would all have questions about his mom that he couldn't, or didn't want to, answer.
No one was in the front of the house when Ryan opened the main door. But as soon as he stepped around the living room couch, he saw Seth, sitting with his back to him at the kitchen table. Ryan glanced at his watch. It was nearly 3. Seth was probably waiting for him. Ryan sighed and walked into the kitchen. Seth jumped in his seat when Ryan tossed the keys onto the counter where Kirsten usually kept them.
"Hey," Seth said, twisting in the chair to nod at Ryan. He was clearly making an attempt at "casual." Ryan almost smiled at the effort.
"Hey," he returned. Ryan opened the refrigerator and found a soda. He considered making a sandwich too, but it would be hard enough to shake Seth's questions without a sandwich to tie him to the kitchen.
"So, how'd it go? With your mom."
"Good," Ryan said, popping open the soda with a loud crack. He took a long swallow, the carbonation making his eyes water. "What're you reading?"
"Nothing. An old X-Men." Seth closed the comic in front of him and pushed it away. "Come on, man, tell me how it went. You hadn't seen your mom in, what, five months?"
"Six."
"Yeah, six," Seth said. He pulled out the chair next to his at the table and patted the seat. "What'd you guys talk about?"
Ryan frowned at Seth and took another swig from his soda. He didn't move to take the seat, instead turning to face the counter. He set the can down and looked out the kitchen window, letting his eyes unfocus as he stared out over the ocean. He had no idea what to tell Seth. He didn't have any of the right answers, not for himself or anyone else. He didn't know how to explain why he had agreed to see her again, after everything she'd put him through.
He shot a sideways glance at Seth, who was watching him but, surprisingly, not saying anything. He was giving Ryan space, letting him choose his words. Realizing that Seth knew how to work him was both comforting and unsettling at once, and Ryan quickly shifted his gaze back outside.
"Nothing, really," Ryan said. He turned and leaned sideways against the counter. "She asked about school, and Marissa. If I'm happy here."
"Are you?"
Ryan glared at Seth.
"Yeah, of course. Sorry. What else?"
"I don't know. Nothing. Her job. That kind of thing."
Ryan finished off his soda and walked around the counter to drop it in the recycling bin. He was closer to the back door now. He could walk out with a decent excuse.
"You gonna see her again?"
Ryan glanced sharply at Seth, who was staring at the table now, fingering the pages of his comic. When Ryan didn't answer right away, Seth looked up, a concerned frown on his face. He already knew the answer.
"Yeah, I don't know," Ryan said. "I think so."
"You sure that's a good idea?"
"I don't know," Ryan snapped. He didn't know, and he didn't need more people doubting him.
"Is she still drinking?"
Ryan looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. He didn't need this conversation. It wasn't doing anyone any good. None of it mattered anyway.
"No," he said. "I don't think so. She said she wasn't."
"That's what she said before." Seth's voice was soft. He knew he was pushing.
"You think I don't know that?" Ryan spat. "Look, I don't trust her, but she's my mom. I can't just turn my back on her."
"She turned her back on you."
And now he had pushed too far, and they both knew it. Ryan blinked up at the ceiling before moving to the back door.
"Hey, look, I'm sorry," Seth said, standing up from the table and pushing back his chair with a loud scrape. He rested a hand on Ryan's shoulder, trying to turn him around. Ryan shrugged the hand off and with one glare at Seth, escaped through the back door. Seth didn't follow.
+++++
Ryan was huddled on his bed, a math book open in his lap and a pencil stuck in his mouth, when the downpour started. The rain came suddenly and with a violence that was almost frightening, the water slapping against the pool house windows and pounding on the roof. He looked up from his math homework and watched the surface of the pool churn under the onslaught. He'd always been mildly afraid of rainstorms, even without the thunder and lightening. He didn't like the way the water echoed off the roof, rough and loud. But at the same time he found storms oddly comforting, and he enjoyed watching the rain fall from the warmth and security of his bed.
The storm must have moved in quickly. Ryan hadn't even been aware of the skies clouding over as the afternoon passed. After returning to the pool house, he'd slid off his shoes and settled down with a stack of weekend homework. Math was only second on his list, and he still had a good hour's worth of trigonometry ahead of him. He sighed and chewed on his pencil.
The phone rang a moment later, just as Ryan was beginning to scratch out an attempt at an equation. He scowled at the paper and glanced at the phone to check the caller ID. It was from Marissa.
"Hey."
"Hello?" Sandy's voice echoed Ryan's before Marissa had a chance to speak.
"I've got it," Ryan said.
The other line clicked.
"When are you getting your own phone line?" Marissa said, laughing.
"Don't need one. You're the only person who calls me," Ryan said. He pushed his book off his lap and leaned back on the bed.
"Well, I guess that's good," Marissa said. He could hear the smile in her voice. She was in a good mood, and he smiled too.
"So what's up?" he asked.
"You tell me. I've been trying to reach you all day. Don't you ever return phone calls?"
"Sorry. No one told me you'd called." Seth was usually pretty good about passing on messages, but he'd obviously been distracted that afternoon.
"Where were you?" she asked.
"Just out. I've been studying."
"I think you've had enough studying," she said. "Let's go out tonight"
"What'd you have in mind?"
"I don't know. Dinner. A movie. Your place."
"Sounds good," Ryan said. "When?"
"Thirty minutes?"
"I'll meet you out front," he said.
"You don't have to-"
"No, I don't want you to get wet," Ryan said quickly.
"Okay then, I'll meet you outside in 30 minutes."
"Good."
"I love you," she said.
"Love you too."
Ryan felt instantly cheered, and mostly relieved, to have an excuse to leave the house. He wasn't yet ready to face Sandy and Kirsten and talk about his mom. Seth had been bad enough. But Marissa didn't know he'd seen his mom, and she wouldn't ask questions. They would spend dinner talking about her parents, or school, or maybe Seth and Summer and Anna. Then silence for the movie. Then the pool house, where the last thing they'd be doing was talking. He would put off the Cohens until tomorrow, and by then he'd be under control, the emotional upheaval of lunch with his mom a vague memory.
Ryan allowed himself a long shower, and he shaved and brushed his teeth even though he didn't really need to. He took his time picking out fresh clothes, settling on a gray shirt he knew Marissa liked and black corduroy pants. He was lacing his boots when someone knocked on the pool house door. Ryan looked up to see a smudged, yellow figure standing outside. He got up and opened the door to reveal Seth, dressed in a yellow slicker, yellow boots and a wide-brimmed yellow hat.
"It's like five steps from the back door to the pool house. What's with the yellow?"
"It's pouring out here," Seth practically yelled, as if trying to be heard over the rain. "I don't like getting wet. So you gonna let me in or what?"
"No."
"Dude, if this is about-"
"You'll drip all over the floor, Seth."
Seth stood in surprise for a moment, staring at Ryan as though trying to figure out if he was being serious. Then he tried to nudge his way into the pool house, but Ryan held his ground.
"Come on, let me in. I'm melting out here."
Ryan laughed and stood aside.
"Fine, but I'm leaving."
"Look, seriously, if you're still mad-"
"I'm not mad," Ryan said, and he meant it. "I've got a date with Marissa. I'm supposed to meet her out front in like one minute."
"Oh," Seth said simply. He was dripping all over the place, and Ryan realized he'd actually been serious about not wanting Seth to get water everywhere. He was considering grabbing a towel from the bathroom when Seth spoke up again. "I was hoping we could hang out tonight. Maybe play some video games, talk."
"Yeah, sorry," Ryan said. "I'll be around tomorrow."
"Okay, that's cool." They stood in silence for a moment, Seth dripping, Ryan watching the water puddle on the floor. "So are we, you know, cool? Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," Ryan said. "I'm sorry, about earlier. I just…"
"No, yeah, it's fine. I understand," Seth said. "I'm sorry, about what I said. I didn't mean, you know…"
"Yeah."
More silence. More dripping.
"So, you probably need to go," Seth said, turning back to the door.
"Yeah, I should." Ryan followed Seth, grabbing a jacket on his way out.
"You want to borrow my hat? To keep your hair dry?"
Ryan laughed and shook his head.
"You know I don't wear hats."
"Oh. Right."
"But thanks."
"Sure. No problem. I need it anyway. You know, because my hair so does not do well in the rain. All the frizz. It isn't pretty."
Ryan followed Seth into the main house. Sandy was standing at the kitchen counter, and when he and Kirsten exchanged a look, Ryan wondered if they'd been talking about him before he'd walked in. But before either of them said anything to him, Kirsten was distracted by her son.
"Seth, you're dripping all over my floor," she scolded. "Take off those clothes."
"All right," Seth said, and started to march out of the kitchen.
"Seth." He looked up and she pointed out the back door. "Outside."
"But Mom-"
"Now."
Seth grumbled something incoherent but obeyed. Ryan glanced up to see Sandy grinning. Kirsten grabbed two dish towels and threw them on the floor where Seth had been standing.
"You going out?" Sandy asked.
"Yeah," Ryan said.
"Marissa?" Sandy asked. Ryan nodded. "Good. Have a good time."
"Thanks." Ryan waited, but when no one said anything else, he headed out of the kitchen. He was almost free when Sandy spoke up again.
"You okay?"
Ryan paused, then nodded with his back to them.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"So it went well? Are you going to see her again?"
Ryan swallowed, and looked over his shoulder at Sandy. He could feel Kirsten watching him from across the room, but Sandy was looking at a newspaper he'd laid out on the counter.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Okay," Sandy said, finally looking up at Ryan. He smiled, his face open. "We'll talk more about it tomorrow."
"Yeah, okay," Ryan said. He offered them a small wave, and walked away. Marissa was waiting for him.
+++++
Ryan managed to hide away in the pool house until late the next morning, and it was nearly noon before he decided he had better check in with the main house before someone came looking for him. The kitchen was empty when he stepped inside, and the only Cohen he spotted was Seth, playing video games on the floor in the den. Ryan nodded hello and poured himself a bowl of cereal.
"How was the movie last night?" Seth asked when Ryan had folded himself onto the floor at his side.
"Who said anything about a movie?" Ryan said. He stuffed a spoonful of cereal in his mouth.
"Because you guys do the same thing every weekend. Dinner and a movie."
Ryan swallowed and shot a scowl at Seth. "We do not."
"Yeah, you do. Seriously, dude. Every time you go out, it's dinner and a movie. Or a party, but if you'd gone to a party you would have invited me because you hate parties."
That was true and Ryan smiled around another bite of cereal.
"So, what movie?"
"I don't know. Some British film. Marissa picked it."
"You don't even know the name?"
Ryan shrugged and swallowed again.
"California Pizza Kitchen for dinner?"
"We're not that predictable," Ryan insisted. Seth looked away from his game long enough to raise his eyebrows at Ryan.
"CPK?" he asked.
Ryan sighed.
"Yeah."
"I knew it," Seth said, grinning in a way that made Ryan want to dump the rest of his cereal over his head. Instead he took another bite.
"Where're your parents?" he asked a moment later.
"Home Depot."
Ryan frowned at Seth, confused.
"Yeah, you don't want to know. My dad's building shelves or something in the garage. He gets these…urges…sometimes. It's just a phase."
Ryan almost laughed out loud at the image of Sandy as a carpenter. He may have been a surfer and the antithesis of Newport culture, but carpentry was pushing it.
"They say when they'll be back?"
Seth shrugged, then swore at the TV when his player died in a bright explosion. He tossed the controller on the floor and stretched his legs in front of him.
"I don't know. A couple hours, I guess. Mom won't let him stay too long. He sort of loses control when he's on one of his binges."
Ryan wasn't normally one to delay the inevitable, but he knew he wasn't yet ready to talk about his mom, not with Sandy or Kirsten or anyone. He didn't even want to think about his mom, or his plans to visit her. He knew Sandy and Kirsten would disapprove, just as Seth had, and he couldn't face that. He couldn't explain it. He didn't want to explain it.
"Let's go out," he said to Seth.
"What?"
"You said you wanted to hang out today. Let's go."
"Outside?"
Ryan stared at him.
"Dude, it's raining," Seth said.
"So? Wear your jacket."
"In Newport? My jacket's yellow. They'd kill me." Seth was looking over Ryan's shoulder, scowling at the rain.
"I won't let them kill you."
Seth was getting fidgety. He picked up the game controller again.
"Let's just stay in. Play video games. Stay dry. Remember my hair? It doesn't like the wet."
"All we ever do is play video games," Ryan said. He stood up to return his empty bowl to the kitchen.
"That's because video games are fun," Seth said, following him. "And dry. As in, not wet."
Ryan set his bowl in the sink and turned to face Seth, folding his arms over his chest. Seth fidgeted some more under Ryan's stare.
"There's nothing to do in the rain," Seth said. "Unless you want to see another movie."
"There's that Russell Crowe movie."
"You already saw it."
"Yeah, but you haven't. It was good, and I want to see it with someone who'll actually appreciate it."
Seth leaned against the counter and studied Ryan for a long moment, until it was Ryan's turn to fidget. He turned back to the sink and rinsed his cereal bowl.
"You're avoiding my parents," Seth said.
Ryan glanced back over his shoulder at Seth but didn't say anything. When he looked away again, Seth sighed.
"Fine. I'll get my jacket," Seth said.
"Don't forget the hat."
+++++
The rain had cleared by Monday morning, and if Ryan's mood didn't quite reflect the bright, sunny days that followed, he wasn't exactly cheerless either. He and Seth had managed to stay out of the house until late Sunday, and the rest of the week he kept himself busy with classes, soccer practices and homework. Nights at the Cohen house were mostly quiet, with Seth and Ryan left alone for dinner, and Seth cramming for an English assignment he'd put off for weeks. Kirsten and Sandy both kept long hours at the office, Kirsten dealing with construction plans that had been soured by the rain, Sandy preparing for a rare case that was actually going to trial.
Ryan's mother didn't call to set up their next visit, and he allowed himself to feel relieved by her negligence. She was the one who was forcing their reunion. It wasn't something he wanted. He refused to be disappointed.
The gray skies reappeared Thursday morning, and by lunchtime the rain had returned. Ryan assumed that his soccer game that afternoon had been cancelled, so he was surprised when he turned up on the field after school to find most of his teammates ready to play. He jogged back to the locker room, changed, and joined the other players in the mud. The rain had been reduced to a drizzle, but after only a few minutes of playing, Ryan's legs were muddy up to his knees and water was dripping off his chin. He was also having a great time.
The entire team was having fun, kicking up mud and slipping in the grass. They played horribly. Players tripped over their own legs and had a terrible time controlling the slick ball. Ryan took a header almost straight in the nose when his vision blurred from the rain falling in his eyes. But he laughed when he fell in the mud, and laughed harder when Luke, trying to help him up, slid and fell with him. Ryan glanced up once in the second half to see that even his coach was smiling, despite the score. They ended up losing the game by three goals. They were lucky it was only the off-season and the game didn't count.
"No way you're getting in my car like that."
Ryan glanced up when he heard the voice call out, and turned to find Sandy, bundled in a trench coat under a black umbrella, standing on the sidelines at the end of the game. Sandy tucked the handle of the umbrella under one arm and clapped as Ryan jogged over.
"Well, that was one of your more interesting games," he said when Ryan stood panting in front of him. Ryan smirked and shook his hair, sending droplets of mud and water in Sandy's direction.
"You came out in this?" Ryan asked, looking up at the sky.
"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it," Sandy said, and Ryan suspected he was serious, despite the wide grin on his face. "Now go get cleaned up so we can go home. It's cold out here and I hate being wet."
"You and Seth," Ryan said. Sandy just grinned in agreement.
"I'll meet you in the car." Ryan nodded and with a quick wave he ran back to the locker rooms, slipping once in the wet grass. Sandy laughed behind him.
Ryan rushed through a shower and bundled his muddy uniform in a plastic bag, borrowed from his coach. Sandy's car felt wonderfully warm and dry when he climbed in 10 minutes later. He dropped his backpack and bag of clothes on the floor and held his hands in front of the heat vent.
"Thanks for coming out," he said as Sandy pulled away from the school. The Cohens only lived a couple miles from the school, and Ryan rarely minded the walk home, but he'd been dreading it that afternoon. It also never failed to surprise him when Sandy showed up to actually watch a game.
"You know I love to watch you play," Sandy said. "Even if you guys do kind of suck."
Ryan would have defended his team, but it was true. Instead he just smiled and ran a hand through his still-wet hair. It was getting long in front. He'd noticed it during the game when his bangs kept falling in his eyes.
They were passing the security booth outside the Cohens' neighborhood when Sandy spoke again.
"I got a call today," he said. "From your mom."
Ryan felt his shoulders tense immediately. He glanced at Sandy, trying to read his expression. Sandy's eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were serious when he turned briefly to face him. Ryan looked away before they could make eye contact, and stared out his window without saying anything.
"She apologized for not calling sooner." Sandy pulled a scrap of paper out of his coat pocket and dropped it on Ryan's knee. A phone number was scribbled on one side. Ryan squeezed the paper in his hand. "She said you should call her back to make plans for this weekend."
Sandy's voice was hard, and Ryan could tell he was disappointed. He didn't know what to say.
"Why didn't you tell us?" The question was gentle. Sandy sounded sad now, and Ryan frowned miserably at the window. He caught his reflection in the glass, dull and blurred, and looked straight ahead instead.
"I didn't think she'd call." It wasn't quite the truth, but it was close enough. Ryan had hoped she wouldn't call. He had hoped to avoid all of this—his mom, the visit, this conversation.
"You agreed to see her, though. To spend the weekend with her?"
Ryan nodded, not sure if Sandy could see him with his eyes on the road. They were in front of the Cohens' house now, but Sandy stopped the car before pulling up the driveway. He turned in his seat and faced Ryan.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
Of course he wasn't sure. In fact, Ryan knew he didn't want to do this, any of it. He knew he would have been better off if his mom had never called again, if she'd truly abandoned him completely and left him alone.
"Does it matter?" he asked, and he forced himself to meet Sandy's eyes.
"Of course it matters."
Ryan almost laughed at that, but his voice caught in his throat. He looked back out the front window, where the windshield wipers were swiping at the rain, bringing the world outside in and out of focus.
"You don't have to go. You know that. You don't have to see her."
Ryan didn't answer, because what could he say. His mother, what he had to do for her, it didn't make sense, not to Ryan, and certainly not to anyone else. He just had to be there. It wasn't a choice.
"Maybe if you just met her for lunch again, or dinner-"
"I told her I'd meet her, and I will," Ryan said, his jaw tight and the words coming out forced. He blinked when a drop of water fell from his hair into his eye.
"I don't think you should," Sandy said. His tone was gentle but he was trying to be firm. Ryan wondered how far Sandy would take it, if he'd make demands, if he'd refuse to let Ryan see his mother.
"It doesn't matter what you think," Ryan said, staring at Sandy now, challenging him.
"Ryan-"
"She's my mom. I have to do this."
Sandy sighed.
"I wish you'd told us you were meeting her."
"Why? So you could tell me I'm making a big mistake? So you could forbid me from seeing her?"
"You know we wouldn't do that," Sandy said, narrowing his eyes.
"Right."
"You can drop the attitude, Ryan. I just need you to be honest with me and tell me what's going on."
Ryan didn't reply, and Sandy sighed again and ran a hand through his hair.
"I just don't want to see you hurt again."
"Then don't watch."
Ryan was out of the car, backpack and clothes in hand, before Sandy could reply. He slammed the door and escaped up the driveway, circling around back to go straight to the pool house. He kicked the pool house door closed so hard that the glass rattled in the frame.
He stopped just inside the room, closing his eyes and taking two deep breaths. When he still couldn't think straight, he threw the bag of clothes across the room and dropped his backpack to the floor before kicking it under the bed so hard that it slid out on the other side. And still he was fuming, his pulse racing and his breath coming in gasps as though he'd just run sprints for soccer. Ryan backed up until he hit the glass doors, and without thinking fumbled behind him to lock the door. He'd never locked them out before.
He stumbled forward and dropped onto his bed, bowing his head and clasping his hands behind his neck. His hair was still damp. He couldn't stop breathing hard. He couldn't focus. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Sandy kept insisting that he had a choice, that he didn't have to see his mom, and Ryan had agreed, over and over again he'd told the Cohens that he knew the decision was his. But he'd always known it wasn't the truth. She was his mom and she was never going to stop needing him, this was never going to end. Maybe she could leave, but he couldn't.
They assumed, all of the Cohens, that he was in control. That what was best for him was what mattered, and that he could make the right decisions to that end. Living with them all these months, he'd started to believe them. They'd told him that what he wanted was important. That his fate was his own. That there was room to hope that things might get better.
He'd been so stupid. He'd never had any control, not once in his life. Ryan kicked out blindly in front of him, his foot connecting with a chair at the end of his bed. He opened his eyes and kicked again, and again, until the chair tipped over backwards. He took a deep breath and held it, then let his shoulders slumped and fell back on the bed, his hands over his face.
There was a knock on the glass. Ryan glanced at the door, grateful that the drapes were closed. Someone knocked again, then tried opening the door. The glass rattled when the door wouldn't budge.
"Ryan?" It was Sandy. Ryan didn't answer. "Ryan, open the door."
He rolled over on his side, away from the door.
"Ryan."
He saw his backpack, reached over and hauled it onto the bed. Ryan pulled himself into a sitting position and opened his backpack, taking out a math book and pad of paper. He found a pencil on his bedside table.
"Ryan."
His hand was shaking as he wrote out the first math problem from the end of the chapter. Ryan ignored it, and he ignored the voice outside. He was halfway through the second problem before he realized Sandy was gone.