Disclaimer: I do not own The OC. I take it out for walks, but always return it safely.
Author's Note: Let me see here, maybe if I widen the door a little, yes, there. Now this post is big enough for both my EGO and me. Oh good golly folks. Feedback much? Wow. I am completely grateful and quite humbled at the quality and quantity of reviews. Unbelievable. Thank you so much.
Round of applause please for crashcmb, the wonder-beta. I literally could not post without her abilities and her numerous suggestions.
On...with...the...drama!
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Best of Intentions
Chapter Two
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Ed calls his sister Carol.
She's confused at first. It's early, and she just heard from him last night; he had sounded exhausted and frantic.
"Carol," Ed manages to fake up-beat, happy. "I've been thinking about what you said last night, with Brad's birthday coming up and how it's important that we all be together."
"Uh huh..." Carol answers, not sure what her brother is leading up to.
"I'm going to fly you and the kids out here, to California."
"Are you drunk Ed?" Carol asks, dead serious.
"No," he responds.
"Are you insane?" She offers as a second possible choice.
"Maybe," he laughs, tries to make it sound casual. "Look Carol, you only live once, right? God knows that point has been driven home to all of us. It's beautiful out here, there's so much for the kids to do and I can arrange a few more days off. I want to fly you guys out here. We'll play on the beach; take the kids to Disneyland or Legoland, or both. Celebrate Brad's birthday in style." Ed adds quietly, "Help him take his mind off his mother. We should do this Carol. Bring my boys out to California."
"What else is going on Ed?" Carol asks. She knows him too well, something's up. It was up last night when he couldn't bring himself to talk to her. Something significant is happening with her brother.
"If you bring the boys to California Carol, I'll tell you everything."
She agrees to do it. She loves him, and she's been so worried about him since Sara's death. Maybe this trip will be beneficial for her nephews too.
He promises to call her back once he's booked a flight and arranged more leave time.
"I won't tell the boys until it's certain Ed," she says before she hangs up.
"Oh, it's certain Carol," Ed assures her, "I want my boys in California."
Ed makes all the arrangements. Everything falls into place so easily. The airfare cost an arm and a leg, but Ed could care less about that right now. Sara's life insurance policy left them with a huge in-flux of cash that Ed has yet to touch. If he has to, he'll dip into that fund.
He calls his sister back, tells her he will e-mail the itinerary and tickets.
Ed hangs up with his sister and decides to make one more quick call before heading downstairs for some breakfast and a DSL connection.
He's made a promise to Ryan that Ed has every intention of keeping.
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Kirsten arrives at the hospital a little after 9:30 a.m. She has barely slept but doesn't intend to tell her husband that.
What he doesn't know won't hurt him.
She opens the door to Seth's room and is greeted by her sick son propped up in bed quietly smashing a bowl of red Jell-O into a million little bouncy pieces of gelatinous goop. When Seth spots his mother, he holds a finger to his lips to shush her entrance. Kirsten gives a hands-up 'What?' and Seth points to the far corner of the cramped hospital room. Sandy is curled up on the floor below the only small window in the room, while Ryan is wedged against another wall. Sandy has his suit jacket for a pillow and Ryan appears to be using a portion of his right arm.
Neither looks very comfortable.
Kirsten spies a vacant foldout chair with a full set of bedding. Seth reaches out and grabs her arm. 'Don't ask,' he mouths and rolls his eyes. Kirsten doesn't need to. She recognizes a battle of the stubborn masked as unselfish when she sees one.
Stupid men should have just asked for a second chair and pillow.
Seth again vies for her attention with a clutch of her arm. Kirsten smiles at him and he directs her gaze to his mangled meal. He's managed to arrange the little globs into a fairly recognizable Jell-O stick-man.
"I'm so proud Seth," she quips and he returns the smile along with a thumbs- up.
Her son still looks flushed and Kirsten reaches out and puts a hand to his forehead. He's warm, but at least warm is not the same as yesterday's boiling hot. Despite the fever and flushed cheeks, Seth is pale. His face looks more gaunt than normal. She hopes the illness and loss of appetite won't last long. Her already slender child will be skin and bones.
"How are you feeling honey?"
Seth arranges a cheery blob frown on the stick-man and looks up at his mom with big brown eyes.
God, he looks dreadful, Kirsten reflects, but he's coming home and that's all that matters.
She glances at her watch. Sandy told her that Dr. Meyers would be in around 9:45. In hospital speak, Kirsten figures that leaves about a three- hour window. Her son still has an IV in, so she assumes he won't be discharged until early afternoon.
Seth braces himself and swallows. Sandy warned her about Seth's throat but watching her son struggle to do such a common reflex is painful for Kirsten. She reminds herself that things could have been much worse.
"I'm sorry," she offers sympathetically.
Seth shrugs nonchalant and yawns.
"I've been awake for 30 minutes," he whispers to his mother in a scratchy voice. "I think that beats the old record of 22 and a half minutes."
"That's wonderful Seth," Kirsten verbally applauds his efforts, "It's unfortunate that your fan club is sleeping through it."
"I have the steadfast support of stick-man Stan," he croaks confidently.
Kirsten laughs and sits down in the comfortable chair. She arranges the pillow to support her head and, in a matter of minutes, dozes off.
Seth admires his creation and eats an ear.
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Dawn Atwood can hear her phone ringing. She just doesn't want to answer it. Never should have put the damn thing back on the cradle. Never should have bothered to get phone service in the first damn place. Her history of keeping up on monthly payments isn't exactly stellar.
It's a miracle, given the amount of alcohol she consumed yesterday, but she's basically sober, maybe a little shaky, a little queasy, but more or less clear-headed. Dawn's narrowed down the persistent caller to either Sandy Cohen or Ed Carden. She has no desire to speak to either man. They both represent foolish decisions and painful regrets.
Gerald, her next-door neighbor and new boyfriend, walks in from his graveyard shift and wearily sits down next to her.
"Phone's ringing Sunshine," he nudges her.
"Yep," she says. "I think it's about my kid."
"Trey?" Gerald asks. "Is he getting out or does he need something? We could go and see him today. I'm not all that tired."
"No, not Trey," Dawn mutters, "My other son."
Gerald sits stunned. He's been with Dawn for a month. He's only heard her mention Trey.
He didn't know she had another kid.
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Ed Carden hangs up in frustration.
He's tried calling all morning.
Thursday, Dawn's phone was busy. Now it's ringing. What's the difference? Nobody answers either way. He needs to make sure Dawn's home. He's promised Ryan a visit.
He can't get a hold of Dawn and Sandy Cohen still hasn't called him. The lawyer vowed a Friday morning call but the morning is almost over. Ed's impatience is rising. It would be nice if Ryan would call back, but Ed's not banking on it. The Cohens are probably keeping a close eye on the kid. Ed wonders how Ryan managed to sneak in the early morning contact in the first place.
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Sandy smells something foul and realizes, with some amount of shame, that the pungent odor is coming from him. He desperately needs a shower and a shave. His watch reads 10:30 a.m. and Sandy is getting anxious. He's due in court at 1:00 p.m. and he can't show up looking like this. It'll be the end of his career. Seth's new doctor is 45 minutes late. It's time Sandy can't afford.
He looks around the hospital room. Kirsten has her eyes closed but isn't really sleeping. Seth is asleep but keeps waking up in pain. Sometimes he just opens his eyes, looks pitiful, and falls back to sleep. Other times he accepts an ice chip and then drools half of it back into a Kleenex. Ryan is still snoozing; he's been asleep since the two of them caught an early breakfast after walking back inside the hospital. Sandy hopes that the kid is just one of those people that can sleep anywhere. He doesn't want to consider the possibility that Ryan has just had lots and lots of practice at sleeping on cold, uncomfortable floors.
A young man walks in and introduces himself as Doctor Meyers. "Sorry I'm late folks," he apologizes but doesn't offer a reason for his tardiness.
Kirsten sits up and pays attention.
"Should we wake up Seth for this?" Sandy inquires.
"Do you actually think you could?" Doctor Meyers asks, impressed.
"No," Sandy admits, "Probably not."
"You can catch him up later," the doctor advises. "Let him sleep, he's going to anyway. Now, let's talk about getting your son home. He's still running a fever although it's much lower. I don't think we're going to completely get rid of it today. You have to push the fluids or he's going to end up back in here, especially with the frequent nausea. Has Seth eaten anything today, kept it down?"
Kirsten looks over at the metal tray attached to her son's hospital bed.
"Half a Jell-O stick-man," she replies without thinking.
"Huh?" the doctor and Sandy chime in unison.
"Nothing," Kirsten mumbles, then says louder, "Not much of anything."
"Ok well, that's normal with mononucleosis, but if Seth's vomiting and not taking anything in, we're going to be back to square one," the doctor reiterates his earlier concerns. "So you should stock up on Popsicles, broth, caffeine-free tea, anything that he can swallow and has a good chance of keeping down. Cold is probably better, but some people prefer hot. Not too much soda or juice, they can work against the body if he drinks too much."
Kirsten nods. She already knows most of the does and don'ts from when her mother was ill with cancer. She understands the impact of constant vomiting on the human body.
Doctor Meyer resumes. "Seth had a CAT-scan last night. The results are showing an enlarged spleen, which is a somewhat common symptom of mononucleosis. It's not a reason to panic, but Seth's spleen is quite swollen so we need to keep an eye on it. Any severe, sharp stomach pain and it's imperative that Seth be brought back to the emergency room immediately. Right here," the doctor points to an area on the upper part of his abdomen right below his left chest area, "Any pain there and Seth needs to be transported right away. Don't mess with it. Don't second-guess yourselves. Call an ambulance and bring him in. Better safe than sorry. Absolutely no contact sports for at least four to six weeks, maybe longer and I'd advise a follow-up CAT-scan if Seth's pediatrician will agree to it before he's released for any physical activity. Don't allow him to do anything that would risk bursting the spleen. And I do mean any physical activity. Football, basketball, even bike riding, running, or casual wrestling around. Anything, especially any activity where he could fall or be shoved or pushed in the stomach."
"I'll hide the skateboard," Sandy offers.
"I'll help you." Kirsten agrees. God, she thinks to herself, how are they going to keep Seth still for that long? Maybe the hospital will send home sedatives.
"Seth's going to be sleeping constantly or at the very least listless, grumpy, sore throat, possibly headaches, little to no appetite and evidently he's hell bent on hanging on to that fever so, stock up on the Motrin. You need to do a follow-up appointment with Dr. Demsky in a week to do the monospot test to officially confirm mono and I'd keep a close eye on that throat in case a secondary infection starts up. Strep is still a possibility. He's been hit hard, that's for sure." The doctor cringes. "Any questions?"
The Cohens look at Doctor Meyer glassy-eyed.
Sandy drops his head into his hands, rubs his forehead, and pinches the bridge of his nose. "How long?" He inquires without looking up.
"How long can you expect him to be this sick?" The doctor asks.
Still pinching the bridge of his nose, Sandy bobs his head up and down in a yes.
"Two to four weeks." Meyer answers. "Depending on the individual, the extreme tiredness can last up to six weeks, sometimes even months."
"That's just super," Sandy counters flippantly.
Doctor Meyer points to the corner that Ryan is sleeping in. "Is it normal for that one to sleep like that?"
"On the floor?" Kirsten qualifies.
"No," the doctor shakes his head. "In the middle of the day."
"He's just tired," Sandy practically shouts, and then softens, "Please doc, don't even hint at two of them having it. I can't wrap my mind around the concept."
"Doctor Hughes has already discussed the risk factors with us." Kirsten smiles at the doctor and assures him, "We'll keep an eye on Ryan."
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Gerald holds Dawn's hand as she tells him through tears about her youngest son. His ex-wife lives in Vegas with their three kids. Gerald can relate to the pain of separation from your children. But Dawn's despair is deeper and he's not even going to pretend that he understands most of what she is telling him. If his ex-wife would let him, he'd take his kids back in a second. He can't imagine giving one up voluntarily.
"So whoever keeps calling you Dawn, you figure is either the rich Newport Beach lawyer who's raising your kid now or the guy that you slept with in Fresno who just found out he's the kid's dad."
Dawn sobs and nods.
"Damn Dawn," sighs Gerald, takes off his baseball cap, scratches his forehead. "No wonder you drink so much."
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It's 11:00 and Sandy knows his chances of helping to get Seth home are over. Ryan and Kirsten are going to have to do it themselves or ask the hospital to hold off discharging Seth until 5:00 p.m. or later.
Sandy hates the position he's in. Ryan, still sleeping, has hardly said more than a few sentences since the parking lot this morning and is quiet and withdrawn. Seth can barely stay awake and poor Kirsten looks as worn out as Sandy feels. He can't believe that he's putting work over his family.
Sandy keeps his voice low and explains the options to Kirsten. His wife, unhappy that she is just now being told that he even has a court date, is less than receptive to the idea of keeping Seth in the hospital any longer than necessary.
"Call the office and explain that you can not possibly go in Sandy," Kirsten urges.
"Honey, believe me, I thought about that. There is just no way. I have to show up in court. We discussed this Kirsten. When I was kicking around taking this job we talked about how it would have more obligations than when I was with the P.D.'s office. This is killing me, please don't make it harder by laying on a guilt trip."
"I never said anything about guilt Sandy," Kirsten says accusatorily, "Don't project your feelings onto me."
"I'll help," Ryan interrupts, his voice heavy with sleep. The teen stands up and cracks his neck, stretches. "Kirsten and I can handle it."
"I don't know Ryan," Kirsten says doubtfully. "He's really out of it." She points to Seth, "I think it's going to take all three of us. Plus, when we get home, someone has to run out and get the supplies that the doctor is recommending. If Sandy has to go to work, then that leaves just one person with Seth while the other one goes to the store."
Her concerns seem so trivial to Ryan that it's hard for him not to laugh. Kirsten is so spoiled. Hell, he could get Seth home by himself. God knows he's had enough practice at transporting semi-conscious people. At least Seth isn't drunk or high.
"I'll pick up whatever Seth needs before I stop by the house to grab a shower," Sandy contributes quickly. "Everything will be waiting for you when you get home."
Kirsten lets out an angry sigh. "Fine," she shakes her head in defeat. "But you better buy only red Popsicles because he can't stand the taste of the orange or green ones, and buy some blue ones if you see them. The blue ones make him happy. And some ice cream too, but get plain chocolate or vanilla because I don't want anything with chunks in it. Wait, skip the chocolate, I think vanilla might be better. Buy Breyers All Natural. And we don't have any broth in the house so get a little chicken and beef; they come in those bullion cubes." Kirsten crosses her arms and looks impatiently at her husband. "Sandy, are you going to write any of this down?"
As Kirsten continues to list items, Ryan fades from the conversation and exits the hospital room. He's never comfortable when the Cohens are fighting and Kirsten is clearly pissed off. He makes his way to the waiting room, fishes in his pocket for a dollar and buys a bottle of soda. He sits down wearily in a seat that provides a clear view of the hallway.
Ryan's neck is stiff and sore from sleeping on the floor. He feels like he barely slept and he'd love to sneak off for a smoke but this morning Sandy took away his last pack. Hell of a time to go cold turkey.
He glances down the deserted corridor to see if Sandy has come out of Seth's room yet. When he doesn't spot his foster father, Ryan reaches for his cell phone and calls Ed Carden.
"It's me," Ryan says as soon as Carden picks up.
"I'm glad you called back Ryan." The enthusiasm in his voice puts a grimace on Ryan's face. "How's Seth?"
"He's better," Ryan answers flatly.
"That's great Ryan, good news. Hey, so, since your friend is going to be ok, maybe we could hook up some time today. Could you possibly meet me? We could drive out and see your mom, talk all of this over with her. How long has it been since you've seen her? I'm sure Mrs. Cohen is wonderful and is treating you really well, but wouldn't it be nice to spend some time with your real mom? You'd like to see her, right?"
Carden stops talking and waits for Ryan's decision.
"Seth's getting out of the hospital in a couple of hours," the teenager comments, avoiding Carden's question.
"Perfect, maybe a meeting between the two of us is a real possibility, huh? We'll drive to Chino, see Dawn, and let the Cohens welcome their son home in privacy. They might need some time alone with him. Having your kid in the hospital is pretty traumatic. The three of them might need a little family time."
Ryan finds Carden's Tommy-gun style proposals overwhelming.
"Uh, Sandy has to go to work for a while. I can't leave Kirsten alone with Seth so, I don't know. Maybe I'll call you later tonight when Sandy comes home but, I gotta go now."
The teenager hangs up.
Carden's pushing him and Ryan feels too tired to deal with the man's onslaught of suggestions and innuendoes. It'd be nice to see his mom though, find out if this jackass is really his dad. Hell, it'd be nice to just see his mom, period. He may not want to live with her, but it would be good to at least see her sometimes, make sure she is eating and not taking drugs, and not falling asleep drunk someplace where someone might hurt her and... Well, it'd just be nice to see her and know she's alive. Some days that nagging question alone is all he can think about.
It's a little confusing, being a human football, passed off to a stronger, more capable player.
Ryan believes that Sandy cares about him, but the Cohens kind of just got stuck with him, like a booby prize born of Sandy's guilt over having survived his own screwed up childhood. Seth never really had much of a choice; he just initially accepted him out of love and respect for Sandy. Hell, Kirsten really didn't want him at all. She never said it, but Ryan could feel the tension bouncing off his foster mother that first weekend.
Carden's interest in him is fueling Ryan's curiosity. He's torn between wanting to ignore Carden in hopes that the man will disappear and wanting to know the truth. It all seems so useless. Even a father miraculously appearing isn't going to salvage his wreck of a childhood. What's done is done.
Ryan's tired.
He finishes the soda, stands up to throw it away, and spots his foster father coming down the hallway. Sandy is in a hurry, barreling down the corridor at top walking speed. Ryan goes to meet him and Sandy comes to an abrupt halt.
"There you are. I told Kirsten you'd be in here. Listen, I know this is a lousy thing to do Ryan but I have to go. I'm sorry. I've told Kirsten I'm sorry, I'll tell Seth tonight when I get home and I'm telling you now, I am very, very sorry for running out on you guys."
Ryan takes a deep breath, squeezes his hands into fists. He can do this. He can force back 'normal' between him and Sandy. Ryan nervously runs his fingers through his hair and tells the older man, "It's no big deal. I think Kirsten's just stressed and blowing everything out of proportion. It'll be fine. I'll make sure everything is ok."
Sandy puts his hand on Ryan's shoulder, keeps it there. "You're a good kid Ryan. I thank God everyday that I stayed a public defender long enough to meet you and make you a part of my family. This isn't fair, that your issue is taking a back burner to Seth's health. Kirsten and I feel terrible about how this whole thing with Ed Carden has been suddenly dumped on you. And when you barely talk to us about what's happening inside of you Ryan, it's difficult for us to know how to help or even what to do."
Ryan nods. He must be exhausted because, at this moment, his foster father's stark display of sentiment has him on the verge of tears.
Sandy breaks the contact. "Ok," he rubber-bands back into lawyer mode, "I have got to get out of here. When I come home, you and I are going to spend a ridiculously lengthy amount of time together and figure out this whole thing with Mr. Carden. I know we can't come to any quick solutions, but we'll work on it together, all right?"
"No," Ryan shakes his head, "I'm fine. I'm handling everything, just..." Ryan pauses, looks at Sandy, "Just concentrate on Seth."
"Eh," Sandy dismisses Ryan's statement with a casual shrug. "According to the doctor he'll probably be sleeping the whole time. Besides Ryan, Seth's not the only kid in my house I'm worried about."
Ryan nods again, blinks rapidly, and stiffens his jaw in an effort to get a hold of his emotions.
He's on a teeter-totter.
Up and down.
Like when they used to live in Fresno and go to the small park by their apartment. Trey would take him, hold his hand as they crossed the street, and make sure he had a jacket on if it was cold. And Ryan loved the teeter- totter because it took two people. Trey had to stay and be on it with him. But he hated the teeter-totter too because sometimes, if Trey was in a bad mood, he would hold his own seat down till it made a deep line in the grass, trapping Ryan as high as the teeter-totter would allow. Ryan would beg and cry and plead with Trey to let him down. "Jump you big baby," Trey would taunt. So one day Ryan did. Trey had him trapped in the sky and Ryan had to go pee so bad. So he held his breath, closed his eyes, tried not to think about how far away the ground was, and he threw himself off the teeter-totter seat. It had seemed like forever before he hit the ground and broke his wrist.
Trey felt terrible and bought, or maybe stole, a candy bar for him every single day the cast was on.
No more teeter-totter or anything else high up for that matter.
Ryan's blinking slows; he watches as Sandy jiggles his pockets for missing keys. "Be right back," his foster father tells him, "I think I left my keys in Seth's room."
Ryan's back on the teeter-totter.
Yesterday Kirsten grabbed Seth and left Ryan alone at the end of the driveway. But today, she's willing to depend on him, instead of her husband, to take care of her ill son. Sandy withholds knowledge of Ed Carden but spills his heart out in a hospital waiting room. His mom abandons him but tells him that she's doing it because she loves him. She leaves him with the Cohens but informs Carden about his existence. Practically hands the guy a fucking map on where to find him. Sandy tells him that he belongs in his family but, to Ryan, there is always a transparent wall that divides him from the three Cohens. They share a language that he feels like he can never fully learn. Maybe he knows enough to fake it to an outside observer, like a hospital nurse, or that new guy in the deli that always says to him, "Tell that beautiful mom of yours that I packed an extra bagel just for her."
But Ed Carden has already picked up on Ryan's biggest insecurity. He's not a Cohen and he never will be.
The three of them might need a little family time.
Up and down.
Sandy says he and Kirsten want to help, but Ryan knows he can handle things himself.
Out of thin air, Sandy is back in the hallway, right next to Ryan.
"Found em," the older man holds up his keys. "I'll see you later kid."
He pats Ryan once on the shoulder and briskly walks away.
"Ryan," Kirsten stands in Seth's doorway motioning for him. "Modern Marvels is on the History Channel. Come watch it with me. It may be our last chance to relax today."
When he reaches Seth's room, Kirsten points to the comfortable chair. "We'll pull it out and share it," she tells him.
Ryan nods.
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To be continued......
