Kirsten reached into the cupboard and pulled out a large wine glass. Deftly she uncorked a bottle of merlot and filled her glass to the brim. Her hands shook as she lifted it to herlips and took a long, deep gulp. The warm, velvety liquid slid easily down her throat. Her heart beat rapidly inside her chest as she fought to ignore the visions flying through her mind; her mother and father laughing together on the beach whilst she and Hailey rushed excitedly in and out of the waves, her mother, pale, sick and dying in the hospital, her father with Renee holding clandestine meetings and illicit phone calls, Caleb's stark revelation in the kitchen at Chrismukkah, Ryan and Lindsay, hot and breathless in the pool house. Her thoughts were all a jumble; one painful memory followed another in rapid succession. How had she never known? Had Hailey ever guessed? What had her mother done when she found out? Kirsten felt sick to her stomach when she thought about the suffering her father must have put her mother through.

She refilled her near empty glass and reflected on the past sixteen years. If Lindsay was sixteen, then that made her the same age as Seth. That meant that Renee had been pregnant at the same time as herself, that this woman had been carrying her father's child at exactly the time she, Kirsten, had been carrying his grandchild. He must really be a cold-hearted bastard to have managed to hold himself together and reject Lindsay at the very time a new life had come into their family. Hadn't he hurt every time he saw Seth as a baby? Hadn't it been like rubbing salt in a wound? Did he really care so little about his own flesh and blood? But, Kirsten thought ruefully, he would have considered it protecting his family, protecting her mother, even though it was pretty obvious the only person he'd been protecting was himself. She was curious to know how her mother had handled it. Had she yelled and thrown vases? Had she threatened to kick him out?

Whatever she'd done, she'd done a damn good job at hiding the hurt from her elder daughter. Kirsten had never suspected a thing was wrong with her mother's life. When Seth had been born, she'd doted on him, spent long stretches of time in Berkeley with him and Kirsten while Kirsten had been off work, bought him lavish gifts, showered him in affection. And then when Kirsten had returned to work, she'd traveled up almost every week and looked after him until she'd fallen sick and they'd moved closer to be near her.

And now her father had succeeded in wrecking the rest of his own and someone else's family, not to mention causing her to lash out at the one person in her family who least deserved it.

Kirsten sighed heavily and emptied the remainder of the bottle into her glass.

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Seth tried hard to concentrate on ninjas, really he did, but even though the yelling in the kitchen had ceased, a huge tense cloud still hung over the house. He desperately wanted to go in there and help Ryan out, after all, he was as much to blame as his father for encouraging Ryan to keep his relationship with Lindsay quiet from his Mom. From Kirsten's comments, it was clear to Seth that she had found them in a position which left the nature of their relationship in no doubt. What was it with his mother? Couldn't she ever remember to knock? Knocking would save her from a whole lot of trauma. And really, what was the big deal anyway? It wasn't like they were actually related. He did feel bad though. He'd walked out of the room and left Ryan to face her without him. He should have stayed and tried to support him. He was relieved to hear his father trying to make her see sense. At least Ryan had someone watching his back…

Seth pressed "pause" on the PS controller when he saw his father enter the room. He looked up at him, his brown eyes troubled.

"I figured it was best if I left you guys to it…" he began tentatively.

Sandy nodded and sat down wearily, running his hands through his mop of black hair. Seth had not seen his father look this helpless since trying to communicate with Ryan during the whole Oliver debacle. His Dad always wanted to help, to reach out to people who were hurting, but he knew he'd found Ryan to be like a brick wall, immovable and solid, impossible to break down. Was this how his mother was too, when she was pushed over the edge? He'd had so little experience in seeing his mother this upset, he realized he had no idea how to handle it and he suspected his father knew little better.

"Dad? Did Ryan go back to the pool house?"

Sandy looked over at his son, as if surprised by his presence.

"No…. no, he left, on his bike." He stared at the motionless TV screen, silent, unblinking.

Seth shifted uncomfortably where he stood. He was unsure what he should do. He was torn between wanting to race out and track down Ryan before he could do something stupid, and staying here to support his parents.

"And Mom?"

Sandy snapped himself out of his trance. He gestured his head towards the door. "In thekitchen," and after a brief pause he added, "I think we should leave her be a while. She has a lot to think about."

Seth didn't miss the bitterness that crept into his father's voice. He felt his blood run cold.

He hated it when his parents had these stand offs. He hadn't forgotten last year when his father's firm had gone head to head with The Newport Group. The atmosphere had been so tense you could almost have touched it. But this was different. This was worse. Seth knew his father was struggling to understand how his mother could have spoken to Ryan like that, to have driven him from the house knowing how insecure he was, knowing what he'd been through with his own mother. But he knew he was also cursing himself inside for having suggested that Ryan keep quiet about his relationship with Lindsay.

"What about Ryan, Dad? You know he won't be taking this well…"

"I know Seth, I know." Sandy's voice sounded exhausted, "What he really needs is for your mother to go and speak to him, try to apologise. But in her present state, I don't think that would be such a good idea."

"So…should I go try and find him?"

"I should really go but…." Sandy considered.

"I know Dad, you don't want to leave Mom."

Sandy looked over at Seth with an expression of hopelessness.

"Poor kid. He just starts to feel part of our family, let his guard down and this happens. He didn't deserve to be spoken to like that, but your Mom, she just…. isn't herself. I don't know what we're gonna do. Your Grandfather has so much to answer for." Sandy cursed, shaking his head in despair.

"I'm sure Ryan will understand, Dad."

"Will he? I'm not so sure. I know if it was you she'd yelled at, you'd have been angry at first, sure, but you'd have brushed it off, knowing full well how she feels about you. But I'm not sure Ryan will be able to do that. We have to remember, she's not his mother and it'll be harder for him to accept that what she said and did has nothing to do with him and all to do with her father. He mightn't be able to see that he and Lindsay just happened to be the trigger."

Seth nodded. He knew what his father was saying.

Sandy sighed heavily and reflected on the mess that had become his family. He knew Ryan would be blaming himself for not being honest with Kirsten but he also knew he'd be hurting from the way she spoke to him. Sandy understood only too well how this would seem to Ryan. He'd put his trust in Kirsten. She was like the mother he'd never had. And now she'd turned on him, like all the other adults in his life had. He wouldn't be able to see past the accusations and the yelling because that was what he'd been used to and when people had yelled that he was useless or good for nothing or told him they wanted him gone, they'd meant it.

Sandy dug into his pockets and pulled out the keys to the rover.

"Here, take the keys, try and find him, try to get him to come home. Tell him….well,you'll know what to tell him."

They hugged each other tightly, each trying to draw strength from the other, acknowledging that they were both out of their depth.

As soon as his son had gone, Sandy got up and moved silently towards the kitchen. He stood in the doorway and saw his wife of eighteen years sitting motionless, eyes red rimmed with tears, cradling her empty glass. His heart lurched for her. He walked over to her and took her shoulders firmly in his hands. Her body heaved silently as she turned to bury her face in his chest.

tbc