Ryan walked into his dorm room and absently threw his keys on top of his dresser. He'd spent the last three hours at the theater working on "greased lightening" and was mulling over having drinks with Sarah and her theater pals when his phone rang. Looking at the display, he knew he probably wasn't going anywhere soon. "Hey, man."
"Ryan," Seth drawled. Thankfully it was easier to hear him this time.
"What's up?"
"Hold on." A few seconds and phone clicks later, and Seth said, "Ryan, I've conferenced in Summer."
Ryan winced. Knowing Summer, the conversation was going to be filled with lots of orders. She was a handful, and she was like a sister – an opinionated, meddling sister, but a sister nonetheless. "Why'd you do that?" He whispered.
"Because she made me," Seth whispered back.
"You do know I'm right here," Summer said. "I don't have a lot of time. We're plotting this weekend's protest against corporate waste."
"How is the Bullet?" Ryan asked.
"He's good. Summer and I had dinner with him the other night after picketing in front of his Rhode Island branch."
"Isn't that a bit – "
"Hey! I got him to commit to a recycling program for the whole building. Besides, just because I don't like most of his practices doesn't mean that I can't eat with the man." Summer sounded a little defensive, but Ryan wasn't about to call her on it, and he knew Seth was smart enough to keep his mouth shut as well. "Anyway," Summer continued, "that's not why we're calling."
Ryan had a feeling he knew what was coming. "Look, Summer –"
Summer rolled right over Ryan. "We need a game plan."
"Summer, I'm telling you –" Seth started, only to be interrupted by Summer.
"Seth thinks Taylor's been recruited for a secret government mission."
"Think about it. Taylor could wear anyone down to the point where they'd tell her whatever she wanted to know just so she'd leave them alone."
Summer ignored her boyfriend. "Seth said you talked to Veronica?"
"Yeah," Ryan said, repeating what he'd told Sandy and Kirsten a few days earlier.
After a pause, Seth said, "You're lucky she isn't able to send her evil-Veronica vibe through the phone."
"Ryan, Seth said you aren't doing anything for Spring Break."
"Actually," Ryan said, "I'm hanging out at the Cohens."
"Something you do almost every Sunday night, right?" Summer asked.
She made it sound way lamer that it really was, Ryan thought.
She must have realized how it sounded, so she asked quietly. "Did you and Taylor have a fight or break up over Chrismukkah?"
"Actually, everything was really good," Ryan admitted. "At least I thought so."
"Did she mention any French guys being nice to her, maybe picking up a scarf she'd dropped or giving her a tissue after she sneezed? She has a weakness for that sort of thing."
Ryan rolled his eyes at Seth's question and repeated. "Everything was good when I dropped her off at the airport."
"She was going to visit her mom for a few days before heading back to France, right?" Seth asked.
"Yeah."
"So," Seth mused, "the last we heard from Taylor was going to visit her mom."
"Then that's where you need to go," Summer said. "Newport's just a hop away from Berkeley."
"Summer," Ryan sighed, pressing against the sides of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. She couldn't possibly know how Taylor's obvious apathy towards him squeezed his heart until sometimes it hurt to breathe. "You can't make someone stay in your life if they don't want to be there." He'd learned that a long time ago. He didn't mention how the hurt seemed worse each time it happened or how he always tried to look at himself and figure out what about him made people want to leave.
Summer seemed to get at least some of it, her voice softer but still resolved. "Ryan, something's not right. I know Taylor, and she loves you. She's my best friend. She'd never stay out of touch with all of us like this, not if she had a choice."
"So you think Veronica has Taylor trapped in a dungeon somewhere? I can totally see that," Seth mused.
"I'm saying that this isn't like Taylor. Something's going on."
A part of Ryan wanted to believe that Taylor had a good reason for not contacting him, but he couldn't think of anything plausible, even for Taylor. "When did you ever hear of Taylor not doing what she wanted?"
"How about the time she almost didn't help us get Marissa back into Harbor?"
"And that was because of her mother," Seth mused.
"So who knows what her mom's doing to her."
Seth and Summer's volleys were all striking at the small place in his heart that still held out some hope. However, his experience had taught him to be wary. "She's an adult now; she can make her own decisions."
"But parents have some sort of power over their children," Seth said. "Look at Dad and the Nana. She comes around, and he's frantically getting rid of our ham. Or look at how Summer regresses to like, twelve, when she's around Dr. Roberts."
"Or how Seth becomes eight when he's back home with mommy and daddy," Summer said testily.
"Okay, I got your point," Ryan said, more to stop the inevitable fight than because he thought they were right.
"And even if you find out that somehow Taylor's done a total mind reversal and has realized that she doesn't want to be with us anymore, at least you'll know."
Summer's last argument rang true with Ryan. At least he would be able to move on, maybe hang out with people at a bar and not feel guilty about it. "I'll fly down there after my last midterm."
"Call and let us know how it goes," Summer said.
"Remember, Ryan. Veronica Townsend eats men as snacks and picks her teeth with their bones. Keep me apprised of your plans so I can call the cops if you go missing. Maybe they can get to you before she has you with a nice Chianti."
"Shut up, you goofball," Summer said, affection in her voice.
"I love you too, honey," Seth sang.
"Bye," Ryan said, smiling despite himself. It seemed that no matter how unreliable the rest of his life was, he could count on Seth and Summer to provide their own brand of strength.
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Taylor ducked behind a pillar and watched two newpsies stroll out of the hospital. Despite the seriousness of her mom's condition, Taylor found hiding from everyone she knew to be a bit exhilarating – and a bit sad. She enjoyed going all secret agent while dodging people – and it turned out that her years of stalking really did pay off – but she quickly realized that she was hiding from more of Veronica's acquaintances than her own. She reminded herself that she did have friends; they'd just all left Newport. Julie, Kaitlin, and Julie's son, Seger, now lived in LA, the mother and daughter both attending UCLA. The Cohens and Ryan lived in Berkeley, Summer and Seth both in colleges in Rhode Island. So she did have friends, she reminded herself, just none that she could talk to right now. And her mom didn't have any friends; she just had people she knew from all of the organizations and boards that she used to chair while Taylor was in school.
After the diagnosis, Taylor'd thought that her mom would have demanded that they move too, since her misplaced pride wouldn't allow anyone to know about what she thought of as a weakness, but she'd established her business here, and she wasn't going anywhere. So they'd downsized and now hid from all of Veronica's acquaintances.
Taylor'd thought it was going to be easy; she'd been alone and friendless until Summer and Seth befriended her senior year. But now she found that it was hard to return to her lonely vigil after experiencing a support system like she'd had when she lived with Julie, Kaitlin, and Summer. Now she felt more alone than she'd ever felt before.
A part of her wanted to call Julie and swear the woman to silence, but she was sure that Julie was still best friends with Kirsten, and Taylor didn't think it was right to make Julie keep a secret from Kirsten just for her. Kirsten was probably worried about her, and Julie would want to tell her what was going on to ease her mind. Then Kirsten would tell Ryan, and all the trouble she'd gone through would've been for nothing.
Edging around the pillar, she made for the stairwell. Besides helping her stay out of sight, the stairs were the next best thing to owning a stair master. If she didn't pick up the pace, she'd be late for the volunteering shift she'd picked up while her mom was going through chemo.
Along the way, her stomach growled. Breathlessly, she placed a hand against it and told herself that she needed to have more than a piece of toast for breakfast. Then she realized that she'd left the toast on the counter after her mother had called for help. Making a mental note to eat later, she hurried up the stairs.
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Ryan fell back on his bed at the Mermaid Inn and closed his eyes. He'd arrived in Newport that morning, immediately rented a car, and drove to the Townsend house – or what had been the Townsend house and was now the home to what seemed like twenty dogs. The maid who'd answered the door didn't have any information on the whereabouts of the previous owner, although she did gossip that she'd heard her employers bought the house for a song, because the previous owners had had to sell. While disturbing news, that information didn't help him find Taylor. He'd gone through directory assistance and the post office, but Taylor and her mom were unlisted, and unsurprisingly, the post office wouldn't release any details. He'd already called Veronica's office line and gotten the answering service, and the only office address he could find was for one of those mailbox stores that could sign for packages. Of course they weren't going to give him any information. He figured he could hang out around the store and hope someone he recognized picked up the mail, but that was a long shot. Besides, stalking was Taylor's forte, not his, and he'd probably end up arrested for loitering.
He'd only been here one day, and he'd already done everything he could think of doing to find her. It had been a stupid idea to come, he mused as he pulled off his clothes and got into the shower. It was just that the more he thought about it, the more sense Summer's explanation made. Taylor was strange, but she never set out to hurt those she loved. She was smart; she had to know that cutting herself off from all of them would hurt, especially since she knew his past. So what was going on with her that she'd treat all of them this way?
Drying himself off, he caught the muffled sound of his cell phone, and he hurried into the bedroom to grab it.
"How was your flight?" Sandy asked. He and Kirsten had not only agreed that Ryan should go, they were paying for the entire trip.
"Uneventful," Ryan said, rubbing the towel over his hair again. "That pretty much describes the whole trip so far."
"You haven't even been there twenty-four hours," Sandy pointed out to him.
"And yet I've already run out of ideas." Ryan walked Sandy through the day.
"Well," Sandy mused. "Kirsten put in a call to Veronica and left a message with her answering service. We haven't heard back so far. She also called Julie to make sure Taylor hadn't called in the last few days. I can call up some of my old contacts, and I'm sure Kirsten won't mind digging out her newpsie telephone log."
"Thanks," Ryan said. "I appreciate it." And he did. Through everything, Kirsten and Sandy had been on his side, always offering their support. Sometimes Ryan thought he didn't do enough to show how much he appreciated their taking him into their family, but how did you thank someone for saving your life?
"Take it easy and relax. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Night."
Sandy set down his phone and sighed.
"Ryan hasn't had any luck yet?" Kirsten asked, looking up from her paperwork.
"Not so far. I told him we'd call up some of our old Newport contacts, see if anyone can help."
Kirsten left her desk and curled up next to Sandy on the sofa. "What else is bothering you?"
"I just hate to see Ryan hurting like this, and there's nothing we can do." He felt Kirsten rest her head on his shoulder and her hand on his arm, and he let himself accept her comfort. "Did I tell you about the night Trey left for Vegas?"
"And you caught up with them just in time to see Ryan standing there, watching Trey's bus leave?"
All it took was a blink, and he was back to that night, standing beside his son, feeling the small tremors going through Ryan's body as they watched the bus disappear. For the first time ever – and the only time since – Ryan had dropped his head onto Sandy's shoulder and leaned into him, lost and alone. Sandy'd ached for Ryan, but he had to admit that he'd been glad to be there, to hold on to Ryan so the boy wouldn't fall into pieces and blow away.
With all the problems Seth had created over the years, he rarely missed an opportunity to express his feelings. Ryan, on the other hand, kept everything inside, like molten lava, until he exploded with emotion, one of the reasons he'd gotten into so many fights, Sandy was sure. Strange, delightful Taylor had a way of throwing Ryan off balance and drawing him out so that he had no choice but to react. Now, the shuttered look was back in Ryan's eyes, and Sandy had to admit that he missed hearing the Taylor stories Ryan would bring with him on Sunday nights.
"Don't worry. He'll find her. All he has to do is think 'what would Taylor do?'."
"Great," Sandy snorted, lightening the mood. "That's all we need. Two people thinking like Taylor Townsend."