Seceding Link
Ch 8: Birthday Song
By Somebody's Angel
"Seth." I said, and the serious in my voice made his smile fade instantly. "I think it's about time I tell you about my mother."
"My dad went into medicine late," I began quietly, turning away from him so we both sat staring out into the ocean – I knew I would never gather the courage to tell him everything if I could see the pity that would inevitably come across his face when he heard the story. "he didn't start medical school til he was 28. My mom, on the other hand was a natural at business and quickly rose through the ranks. She once told me that when she became pregnant it almost ruined her career. She went back to work a month after I was born, and was promoted to CEO a couple months later, at only 27."
One finger traced mindless circles in the sand beneath us, the other hand clasped tightly in Seth's. "I was always close to my dad, because we spent so much time together. He was studying, so he was the one at home looking after me. I'm told I was a good baby, quiet, slept through the night when I was only a couple weeks old. Even when he was an intern and worked 36 hours straight, he spent every minute off duty with me, reading to me, talking to me, playing with me. He was my best friend."
"When I went to school I realised how strange it was. All the other kids had mothers who picked them up after school, cuddled and kissed them right there in the playground. And coz my dad was an actual surgeon by then, he wasn't home nearly as often, so I spent a lot of time with the nanny."
Seth held me tighter as my voice began to crack.
"My mom…she wasn't like other moms. She only ever hugged or kissed me on special occasions, always thought her apologies and declarations of love could make up for the missed recitals and lack of physical affection. She didn't even know how old I was! I remember my sixth birthday, when I had the party with the entire class? She came into my room that morning and congratulated me on my fifth birthday!" Tears ran down my cheek as the memories flooded back to me.
"They started fighting when I was seven. She was never home, was never there for me, wasn't there for him. He spent too much time at the hospital, didn't exist in the real world, wasn't supportive of her goals. They only found out I could hear them when they caught me watching the yelling. That weekend I got a TV and stereo in my room," I explained, mildly surprised that my voice was still steady, and loud enough for Seth to hear.
"My mother started talking about how I hated her, how dad had turned me against her. She blamed him for her failures as a parent. The last thing she said the night she left was that she wished she'd never gone through with the pregnancy, that she wasn't ready to be a mother or a wife. Until that night I never knew I was the reason they got married."
Seth pressed his face to mine, and I could feel the tear that slipped down his cheek. It made me feel even worse – this was why I didn't tell people about my life, because it usually made them feel sorry for me, and I hated making other people feel bad. But at the same time I knew, could feel how much this sharing meant to him in the tightening of his arms around my waist and the soft breaths in my ear.
"They still don't know that I heard that entire 'conversation'. I pretended to be asleep when she came upstairs. She kissed me on the forehead and told me "I just wasn't ready to be a mother, baby. And I know you'll be better off without me. I'll always love you, baby, please remember that." I never saw her again."
Emotionally exhausted, I turned and buried my head into Seth's chest, finally letting out all the tears I had been holding back ever since that fateful night four years ago.
For once, Seth didn't attempt to break the silence, simply allowing it to envelop us until the only noise either of us could hear were my hiccuping sobs and the ocean crashing against the beach.
His hand rubbing circles on my back helped calm me down, and soon I looked up at him. There were tears shining in his coffee-coloured eyes but he didn't let them fall, knowing how much I hated sympathy tears. Instead he smiled the shy quiet smile that only I saw, the one he always had on his face when the last of my clothes dropped to the floor and I was naked in his arms, the one which told me how lucky he felt to be sharing his life with me.
I couldn't help but smile back, "Sorry for going all Gwyneth on you, our anniversary is supposed to be a happy time."
He shook his head slightly, leaning down to kiss my forehead. "I'm happy you're sharing your life with me. It was a major part of your life that I didn't really know anything about. And the fact that you feel comfortable enough to share it with me…it speaks volumes."
And as we stared into one another's eyes, brown boring into brown, I could see how much he wanted to tell me, how much he wanted to say the words out loud. But I could also see the hesitation, the fragility that was his self-esteem. For that was the major issue – if he told me he loved me and I didn't reply in kind, it would shatter his self-worth entirely. As much as we had tried to work through our issues of not deserving one another, I knew that he still thought of me as his dream girl, just one mistake away from slipping out of his reach.
But I couldn't say it yet, because I wasn't sure. Now that he had heard the story of my previous experiences with love I know that he understood a lot better than he had previously, but he still didn't entirely grasp the enormity of what the declaration would mean to me. My mother had tarnished the phrase for me, using it as an apology instead of the declaration it should have been. And while my father used the phrase, the words were only actually spoken on special occasions, birthdays and Chrismukkah, I'll never think of it as just Christmas again, it'll always be Chrismukkah, the random thought popped into my brain and I struggled to remember when I had previously been contemplating…I had never heard my father tell my mother he loved her, nor had I ever heard her tell him.
Seth's parents said it all the time; seriously, jokingly, with smiles and with tears. He had probably grown up with both of them saying 'I love you' as part of the goodnight ritual. I hadn't had the same experience, and had never, ever spoken the words first.
So to escape the silence from becoming awkward, I blinked to break the connection, then kissed him hard. I hoped to show him all the feelings I couldn't express, hoped he would be able to determine for himself if I loved him, because I had no clue.
……………………
It was four days later that I realised I hadn't seen Seth and Marissa in the same room for a couple of weeks now. Sure I still spent time with the both of them, and with Ryan, but we hadn't hung out as a foursome for at least three weeks.
Things steadily got weirder over the next couple of days; all three of them giving me weird glances every so often, conversations dying the second I walked into the room, Seth pushing me to spend more and more time with his mother – not that I minded this last option, it was just that I had seen more of Kirsten than of my boyfriend since our anniversary.
But the weirdest episode of all was when Ryan volunteered to take me shopping, ostensibly to help him give Seth ideas for birthday presents for me, but I noticed Marissa's new red car pulling into the driveway of the Cohen's before we had even turned out of the street. I knew they were keeping something from me, and yet I was so happy with my life in general that I couldn't bring myself to care all that much.
My father had managed to take two days off – the two days before my birthday – and he was taking Marissa and I to LA for a little holiday. Seth and I were excellent, spending time together but no so much that we were in one another's pockets – and I was finding that I didn't miss him as much when we were apart as I used to. At first this information scared me – was I getting too comfortable in the relationship? But he called me that night and we spent two hours on the phone just talking and bickering and I realised it was just that the relationship was maturing, moving our of the 'honeymoon' stage and into a stage where we could be together but apart at the same time. Marissa seemed to have kicked her alcoholic ways for good – she wouldn't even touch light beer now, and always drank soda or juice when we went out. And my friendship with Ryan went from strength to strength.
I finally had a number of friends who were different, and good for different objectives, not the bitchy, gossipy ditzes that I used to call my friends – Marissa was still my best girl pal, great for doing girly things with and chatting about things the boys couldn't or wouldn't understand – makeup, fashion, boys. Seth and I talked about everything and anything, from celebrity gossip to his fears of having a baby sibling to global warming – much the way I could also talk to Kirsten about almost anything (other than mine and Seth's sex life of course). And then Ryan was great to talk to for all the other stuff – boy issues that Marissa couldn't figure out, sports (though I started watching baseball for the tight pants and basketball for the bare arms I became genuinely interested in the rules and the different teams) and most importantly, my fear of abandonment and love issues. As he said, "if anyone knows how it feels to be abandoned by their mother it would be me." We talked about our previous experiences with love and the phrase, I asked how he had known he was ready to tell Marissa when he did, he walked me through my feelings for Seth. But even after several marathon sessions in the poolhouse with Ryan, I still wasn't sure that I loved Seth, and I wasn't about to tell him unless I was completely positive about my feelings.
It was Saturday, the night before my father was taking Marissa and I to LA for some serious retail therapy, four days before my birthday.
Seth and I were lying in a heap of tangled limbs and bedcovers, our breathing slowly returning to normal. "That was an awesome date." I commented against his shoulder blade, causing him to squirm a little at the sensation.
"Yeah, that George Clooney is always a panty-peeler." He replied, twitching his head away before I could slap him.
"Ocean's Eleven is way more than just George." I retorted, not moving from my position draped across him.
"I know, Brad and Matt are big parts too."
"Exactly." I murmured agreeably, this close to falling asleep.
He must have heard my breathing slowing down, because he shifted underneath me, glancing over at the nightstand. "It's past midnight."
I turned to look at the clock. "Yes, you're right." I turned back to him and smiled. "Glad to see you're getting your money's worth with those telling-time classes."
He rolled his eyes. "I believe that was me insinuating that I should be going."
"So you weren't trying to impress me with your skills?" I asked as I rolled off of him, faking a pout.
"No, I –" he started, but stopped abruptly when I got up off the bed and walked over to my closet. I knew he was watching me closely, could feel his eyes wandering over my body as I pulled out my robe.
I turned around as I pulled it on, purposely leaving it hanging open until I was facing him. Sure enough he was staring at me with wide eyes and I let out a small laugh, pulling the belt tight around my waist and folding my arms across my chest. "Take a picture, it lasts longer."
"Trust me, the thought's crossed my mind," he said.
I smirked as I picked up his shirt from the floor and tossed it next to him on the bed. "Here. Quit drooling and get dressed." I walked over to my vanity and picked up a ponytail holder, pulling my hair into a loose bun before moving to lean against the door with a sigh. "I wish you didn't have to leave like this."
"I know, me too, but we both know what will happen if I don't get home."
I smiled sadly. "Yeah. No more half-sleepovers, even."
Seth shrugged. "And I'd prefer this to not being able to sleep with you at all. Okay, now, where's my shirt?"
As always he had to get every piece of clothing together before he could put anything on, so I was entertained watching him search naked for quite awhile before he discovered that his boxers had been tossed through the open ensuite door.
A few minutes later, he pulled on his second shoe and walked over to me. He placed one hand against the door and pressed his lips gently against mine. I brought my hands up to his face and ran them over the light stubble on his cheeks as we kissed – Seth's five-o'clock shadow was never actually a shadow until after 10.
We sat together at the bottom of the stairs, looking into the darkness of the living room for a minute before the grandfather clock in the den chimed once, indicating it was half-past. Simultaneously we turned back towards one another, our lips colliding much more aggressively than they had a few minutes previously.
I loved the comfort I felt with Seth – much as we both enjoyed our…ahem, bedroom activities, there was never any pressure or expectation that we would go all the way. I think that's what made our sex life so much better, never knowing when the other would pull back and declare the night's festivities over with. Seth's curfew had a lot to do with this also, as he always made sure his watch alarm was set to enable him to get decent and get home before curfew – two punishments dealt out for breaking curfew had been more than enough to ensure that he was alone in his bedroom one minute before curfew every single time. But mostly we enjoyed teasing one another until one of us cracked – I had never seen Seth smile so evilly as the time he lifted his head from between my thighs and left me teetering on the edge of the precipice, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to beg him to come back when he subsequently walked out of the room without a word.
And we were both teasing again that night – well, that morning if you wanted to get technical – Seth's hands were inside my robe, but he refused to do anything more than dance his fingers across my stomach, while I traced a line along his hipbone, grinning when he moaned into my mouth.
Things were just beginning to escalate – I straddled his lap as his hand finally moved upward from my stomach – when Seth's watch alarm sounded. We both ignored it for an entire minute until it turned itself on snooze, and the second the noise stopped we pulled apart.
I fixed my robe while he pulled out the keys to the Rover, making sure they didn't jangle – not that jangling keys would have been more disturbing than the alarm that had gone off just a minute ago. We worked in unison to disable the burglar alarm and unlock the door, then he gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Bye," he said.
"Bye," I replied, smiling. He stepped over the threshold and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets before walking down the front steps and across the yard.
………………………
My birthday was an awesome day. Between Seth, Marissa, Ryan and Kirsten I was entertained all day, and every single activity was of my choosing.
Seth took me for an early dinner at my favorite restaurant, a place called Thai Thai Again. It had only just opened when Seth appeared on my radar, and it quickly became our special place. The food was amazing, a perfect mix between authentic and Americanised Thai food. We went there so often we were now recognised by most of the waiters, and had friends among the kitchen staff.
We finished our mains and I opened the menu to see what I might want to choose for dessert when Seth cleared his throat. "There's a special dessert waiting for you at home."
"OK, then let's get the check."
"Nononononono, we can't go…not yet…not ready…not until half-past…" He continued to ramble under his breath, and I knew he was either very nervous, or trying to hide something, or most probably both.
I grinned at his adorableness and laid both hands on top of his wringing ones. "Chill. Let's just sit here for a little while then."
He calmed down the instant my skin touched his, and lifted his head to meet my eyes. I felt a weight in my hand and looked down to see Seth placing a square blue velvet box in my hands – I hadn't even felt his hands move.
I smiled at him and opened it up. Her eyes widened and I let out a small gasp. "Oh my God." I pulled out a white gold necklace. A diamond solitaire hung from the centre, pink sapphires on either side. "Cohen, this is…wow, this is just…beautiful." I shook my head slightly. "You really didn't have to get me something like this."
"I know," he replied. "Do you like it?"
I smiled. "Are you kidding? I love it, but…this looks so expensive," I said, staring at it in awe. I fingered the chain, then gasped. "Oh my God, that's why I haven't seen Ryan around lately; you sold him to pay for this, didn't you?"
He smirked as he took it from me, and I suddenly remembered that his grandfather practically owned Newport, and it wasn't like either of our families were exactly struggling for cash, a fact which had slipped my mind a moment ago. "a) you saw Ryan at lunch and b) no, I didn't have to. It was free."
I raised my eyebrows. "So, you're telling me you stole this?"
He smiled. "No. Here, lift up your hair." I obliged and Seth fastened the necklace around my neck, his cool fingers resting on my shoulders after he had done up the clasp.
I released my hair and looked at him expectantly. "So, where'd you get it?"
"Actually, it belonged to my grandmother," he replied simply – his short, incomplete answers were beginning to get on my nerves.
I frowned in confusion as well as annoyance. "I thought your grandmother was still alive?"
The mischief in Seth's eyes quickly dimmed when he saw the malice in mine, and he decided not to risk his life any more than he already had. "No, The Nana is still alive, this belonged to my mom's mom. And before she died, she gave it to me and told me to keep it somewhere safe, that one day I would find someone special and that I should give it to her." He shrugged. "So I just did."
A chill ran through my body at his explanation – family jewellery was a huge deal. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away and smiled. I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his, kissing him deeply. "Thank you," I whispered, bringing my arms up to hug him.
"You're welcome," he said. I leaned against him and rested my head on his shoulder. Seth stroked my arm as I stared out the window into the ocean, black with the ink of nightfall.
When the waiter brought the cheque over I was confused for a second – hadn't Seth just said he didn't want to get the cheque yet? But when I turned to question him he was already placing his mother's credit card in the waiter's hand.
"Time to go." He replied to my confused look.
He pushed my chair in for me after helping me up, and wrapped an arm around my waist as we exited the restaurant.
…………………………
Seth chattered all the way home, about everything and nothing – he wouldn't answer my questions about his strange behaviour at the restaurant, despite a number of punches to his shoulder. He either ignored the question entirely or claimed that he wasn't acting any more strange than was normal for him – I had to give him that point, he had done a number of things more strange than tonight's.
I was too distracted by my boyfriend annoying me to notice the cars parked around the Cohen house, though the valet that opened my door startled me.
"Cohen what's going on, are your parents having a party?"
"Sort of." He replied, before opening the front door.
"Surprise!" Yelled a crowd of people inside, and all of a sudden I knew the reason for all the secrecy, the weirdness, the reason why I hadn't spent any time with all four of my best friends over the past couple of weeks. They had been planning a surprise birthday party for me.
I hugged Marissa hard for a few seconds before the flood of people pounced and stole me away.
An hour and a half later I was finally done with the greetings and thankyous, and went to find Seth.
As at Julie and Caleb's wedding I found him hiding in a place where he could still look over the festivities – his parents' bedroom. They were outside at the party, currently standing together in the middle of a group of Newpsie women, Sandy looking completely miserable.
I sat next to him on the bed, resting my head on his shoulder as I thought about the enormous changes in my life over the past year. The evidence lay in the differences between my sixteenth and seventeenth birthday parties. I hardly remembered my sweet sixteenth party, except for the fact that Marissa was extremely late – which I now knew was due to the fact she was getting Ryan set up in the model home. There were three kegs and more spirits than a séance at my house, and I woke up the next morning with one of the worst hangovers I'd ever had.
And then there was my seventeenth birthday, and while there were probably a similar number of people at this party, I knew every face and every name, and most people were still relatively sober. It was definitely more sophisticated than my rager the previous year, and I felt that the same could be said about me as a person. Yes it could be argued that change was a part of growing up, and the later teenage years were the ones during which the most changes occurred. But I don't think that my entire outlook on school, friends, partying and life in general would have changed as much as quickly if it hadn't been for the person sitting next to me.
I turned to him and kissed him soundly. "Thank you."
He smiled in response, but I could see in his eyes that his thoughts were elsewhere, and deep. Instead of trying to probe I resumed my position on his shoulder and waited until he was ready to speak.
It occurred sooner than I had expected, and was deeper and more meaningful as well. "Why are you here with me?"
A simple question. Or at least, it should have been.
I knew he didn't mean here in the room. He meant the universal version of 'here.' He was asking me why I put up with him, and I was amazed that he didn't knew. I just assumed he did. Oops.
Was it because I felt lucky? Lucky that I was the one he'd allowed me into his life and his family so thoroughly. I felt lucky that he had introduced me to his parents, his Nana, his grandfather, his aunt, all within a couple of months of dating. I felt lucky that his parents treated me as their own daughter, that they never held it against me for running away with him, for hurting him for so long before this year. They hugged and kissed me as if I was one of their kids, and I cherished every touch because I'd never felt this kind of affection before – though I loved my own father to pieces and he spendt plenty of time with me he wasn't the physical affection type.
Yes, I did feel lucky. But that wasn't why.
Was it because of his eyes? Those piercing, chocolate brown eyes that I could see my own reflection in with the right lighting. Those eyes that could look so naïve and yet so knowledgeable at the same time. Those eyes that stared at me, watched me unwaveringly while he made love to me, seeing and feeling my every reaction to him. Those eyes that, with a single look, could convey more than anyone else could with a thousand words? With them, he told me everything he couldn't say. Which wasn't much, but it was the most meaningful.
Yes, his eyes were beautiful. He wasbeautiful. But that wasn't not why.
Was it because he made me laugh? Often, it was at the expense of another, usually himself, but he didn't mind and neither do I. He could always tell when I was angry or upset, and in his own ridiculous ways, tried to fix it. He thought he could fix everything emotional. And he usually could. It was annoying. I always tried to hide those feelings from him, but he could always tell. I needed to work on my deceptiveness, because my eyes, he once said to me, revealed everything. With one look into them, he knew what I was feeling.
Yes, he made me laugh. But that wasn't why.
I turned to face him.
And in his eyes, which looked pleading but not pathetic, I found my answer.
"Because I love you."
It was the first time I'd ever said that to him, to anyone not a blood-relative. And it was true. I'd rip my heart out myself and hand it to him on a silver platter if he asked me to. In fact, I just had.
Hey there I said it
I'm in love
With you
There's an ocean between us
Just like me
Deep and blue
And I, at times have had nothing
But tonight I want nothing but you
You're the only thing I want
The only thing I want
The only thing on my mind
All the time
Staying up 'til dawn won't take its toll
'til we get old
And drinking is just the way
We keep away the cold
And you, you know what it means
To be true and searching like me
You're the only thing I need
The only thing I need
The only thing on my mind
All the time
And you gave me a reason
To give you my soul
I'll give you it all
You're the only one I want
The only one I need
The only one on my mind
All the time
All the time
All the time
All the time
THE END
So it finally ends. The above lyrics are from Birthday Song by Ben Lee, which, combined with the SS wedding scene in TTTB, was the inspiration for this entire fic. I wanted to show the process and events that made Summer fall in love with Seth, and then realise and articulate it to him. I really hope I accomplished this.
I started this fic in September 2004, before I sat my final high school exams, and it's take almost 3 years to write just eight chapters (albeit each chapter is over 3000 words long). As you will probably see from my profile page I've written a lot of stories but this is the only one that is written (almost) entirely in first person, and it's closest to my heart.
This is definitely going to be my last OC fic. Unfortunately the combination of the end of the show and my fickle mind has meant I've moved on from the show, which is part of the reason why this chapter took so long, but the OC consumed my life for a long time, and I couldn't just leave you guys hanging forever, as I've done to some other fandoms. I hope you guys will enjoy my future fics, most probably in CSI: New York.
I really hope you guys like this final chapter, and please let me know your favourite line/comeback. I also need name suggestions for the epilogue. I need two girl's names and one boy's (first and middle), for reasons that will become clear when I post the epilogue in a couple weeks.
