Chapter Nine
"I never forgot that she died."
They were sitting together quietly in the cemetery, leaving their partner to their own silent thoughts and goodbyes. There had been no formal service to bury their daughter, no priest to offer his trite, empty words of comfort, no black mourning clothes, no flowers, no fancy funeral dinners to attend. Instead, Ryan and Marissa had said their goodbyes to their daughter at the hospital the day before, and, after she was buried the next day, they had come to the graveyard, brought a blanket, and sat beside her unmarked grave; the headstone they had ordered for her would take several weeks to be finished. For the past half and hour, she had merely been sitting in his lap, her head resting on his shoulder while their hands were joined together in a comforting, tight embrace, the baby carrier sitting beside them silent as the little boy slept soundly. Only the soft sounds of Marissa's tearful voice as she spoke those important six words were capable of bringing him out of his grieving stupor.
Startled by her admission, he turned his head to gaze into her eyes. "What," Ryan's voice rang out, the confused nature of his simple question evident to his wife's ears.
"You know that bad habit I have," she asked him, blushing and turning away from his watchful stare, "well I was kind of eavesdropping on your conversation with the doctor; I heard what you said, how you were worried about me because I talk to the baby."
He couldn't help it; he laughed, a deep, warm, alive chuckle as he tossed his head back in amusement and tightened his grip around his wife, savoring the feeling of her near him. It was such a strange time to make such a trivial confession, especially since it didn't surprise him at all, because, as she said, it was a bad habit she had, but it was also exactly what they needed to break the tension that had existed between them since the moment he had found her feeding his brother's son. They had discussed the burial arrangements for their daughter, picked out what outfit she would be laid to rest in together, even finally decided on a name for their little girl, but he had not been ready to talk about the baby that had been practically left on their doorstep, and, knowing he often needing time to process things and organize his own thoughts before they could discuss something, Marissa had not brought up the subject. Instead, she had, alone, taken care of the infant boy, another child who needed a name. However, just as soon as his laughter started, it came to a stop, the grin that had transformed his face and brought a light to Marissa's eyes again falling away to be replaced by a hardened frown.
"Were you listening then when Dawn was there; did you hear everything we said to each other?"
Lowering her head, she let go of his hand to fumble distractedly with her own fingers. "Yes," she responded, her voice so low it was practically undetectable, but Ryan still heard it.
Amazed, he exclaimed, "so you know that the baby is Trey's…."
"But that's just it," Marissa turned in his arms, twisting her body to stare deeply into his pained eyes. Suddenly, her embarrassment and apprehension were gone. "He's not Trey's son. At this point, he's no one's son. DNA and blood do not make someone a father; being there for the important moments in a child's life, the day they take their first steps, the day they start kindergarten and ride the school bus for the first time, the day they have their first kiss, the day they graduate from high school, that is what makes someone a dad, and you could be that man for this baby; we could be his parents."
Shaking his head to disagree with her, Ryan gently opposed her statement. "No, we can't, Marissa. It's too soon."
"Under any other circumstances, I would agree with you," she said confidently, "but you're wrong this time. I know we just lost our daughter, that we've barely managed to even start mourning for her, and that this is not the best time to think about taking in another child and loving it as our own, but if we don't, what's going to happen to this beautiful, innocent little boy? It's not his fault that his parents didn't want him; he did nothing wrong, and he deserves to have two adults in his life, a Mom and a Dad who will treat him like the miracle he is. Don't you get it," she pleaded with him softly. "He's our second miracle." When Ryan merely watched her with bewilderment in his cobalt eyes, she explained. "Our daughter was our first miracle. We really should have never been able to conceive a child, but, despite everything standing in our way, we did, and it was magic. I have never gone through anything as painful as finding out the baby girl I carried inside of me for nine months had died during labor, but I could never regret her. I was her Mom for those forty weeks she lived with me, and that was the most amazing experience of my life. After everything we went through, I was able to give you a baby…even if it was for such a short time, and that's all I've ever wanted. But, now, she's gone, and, like another miracle, this baby has been given to us, not to turn over to child services and let the government determine who should raise him but to raise ourselves….as our son. I'm not a religious woman, you know that, but I have to think that our daughter is happy somewhere, that she's content and warm and safe and that she's looking down and watching over us. That's why I speak to her. It's comforting, and, by talking to her about my feelings and my dreams for her, it helps me remember that, although she's gone now, she did once exist. So, when I see this baby, this little boy that, despite not being our child, looks so much like you, in my heart it feels as if she sent him to us. She knew that we needed someone to love, and she saw him and knew that he needed us, too. We are meant to raise this little boy, Ryan; he was meant to be our son. I know it. He's not replacing our daughter, nothing and no one will ever be able to do that, but he can help us as we help him. I'm not going insane, you don't have to worry about me, although, perhaps, I'm already slightly crazy," she joked, needing to make him smile if not laugh, "but that's only because I'm Julie Cooper Nichol Roberts' daughter."
Her efforts were rewarded when Ryan offered her a slight smirk and leaned over to place a delicate kiss on her cheek, but, after that, he was silent as he thought about everything she had said. Satisfied with his response, Marissa sat back in his arms and patiently waited to hear what he thought about her ideas, content to have him hold her as her eyes flickered from the newly made grave that would be her daughter's eternal resting place and the sleeping baby in the carrier beside them. While he contemplated the idea that they should raise his brother's son as their own, a brother Ryan hated with an intense passion, she continued to say goodbye to their little girl, distraught and disappointed tears occasionally falling down her otherwise flawless face.
Breaking the quiet that surrounded them, Ryan finally spoke up, his tone unsure and vague. "How do we do this?"
"Oh, sweetie," Marissa's heart almost broke for her husband as she reached out to cup his face in her petite yet strong hands, "all you have to do is look into his bright, blue, pure eyes, eyes so much like your own, and I know you'll fall in love with…."
"No, not that," he argued with her. "I'm not ready to care for it….him like that yet." When she went to protest, he interrupted her. "I'm not saying I'll never be able to, but it takes me longer than you to accept someone, to let them into my heart. I know that it's wrong and that you're right when you say that he's innocent in all this, that Trey's sins against us have not been passed onto him, but loving someone doesn't come as easy for me as it does for you. I promise you I'll try though."
"You're wrong," she replied decidedly, locking their gazes together. "You fell in love with me just as easily as I did you, and I know that you love me as much as I love you, too."
"Loving you is easy though; I was made to love you."
Abruptly, the tears pooling in her eyes were not from pain and misery but from devotion and ardor. Giving in to her base instincts, Marissa leaned into her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissed him. At first their embrace was soft, gentle, tender, but it soon grew in fervor, deepening and swelling into a passionate, desperate attempt to show the other just how much they needed and wanted them. Pulling away breathless, she buried her head against his chest, her hands clasping frantically against his plain, basic t-shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer to her. "And you're made to love this baby, too," she assured him, "and, as soon as your heart is ready, you'll look down into his adorable little face, stare into his eyes, and he'll gaze back up at you, smile, and suddenly, you'll just feel that he's your son…that he's our baby."
"Alright." Swallowing thickly, he repeated his statement before expanding upon it. "Alright, we'll do this; we'll raise him as our own child, but what do you want to do first? It's the weekend, so we won't be able to contact a lawyer until Monday. Should we call our family and finally tell them about what's been going on?"
"No," Marissa yelled out forcefully, pulling herself away from her husband's body. "We're never telling them about losing our daughter or how Dawn just left this baby with us and that we decided to raise him as our own. It's none of their business. And we're not contacting a lawyer either."
"Hey, hey," he soothed her, pulling her back into his arms. "We have to do this legally, honey. There's no choice."
"But what if they take him away from us?"
Tipping her bowed chin up so that her scared eyes would meet his own, Ryan smoothed his rough, large palm across her delicate cheek, needing to feel her close to him and to offer her a sense of comfort. "That's exactly why we have to talk to a lawyer. If we don't want him to be taken from us, we'll have to legally adopt him." Stifling her protest, he explained. "Right now it seems as if Trey and the biological mother want nothing to do with him, but if they find out we're raising him years down the road, they might come back and try to either reclaim him or exhort money from us in exchange for the baby. If we legally adopt him, then they won't be able to hurt us or ever get close to him."
"Okay," Marissa agreed, her panicked breathing returning to a normal rate as he alleviated her nerves with his common sense and calm words. "You're right. We have to be careful and do everything in our power to make sure the baby is safe and that no one will ever be able to take him from us, but I'm still not telling our family that he's not ours biologically. I refuse to let our son be treated differently than his cousins just because we didn't make him together."
"Their going to figure something out; they're not stupid. We told them we were having a girl, and when they see us holding a baby that's definitely not female, they're going to realize we're lying about something."
"Doctors make mistakes all the time when they tell expecting parents the sex of their baby. Sonograms are not always accurate," Marissa explained quickly, dismissing his concerns. "We'll just tell them that there was a mess up, and, instead of having a daughter, we had a little boy. He looks like you, so it'll make sense, and, even if his looks change, we'll just say that he looks like another member of your family, someone they haven't met."
"And what about his birthday," Ryan pondered, suddenly finding himself in favor of her plan. "We don't even know when he was born. From what I've been able to find out, he wasn't born in the hospital so there are no formal medical records, no proof of his birth."
Thoughtfully, she sat for a moment to think about his question. "What if we make the day he was brought to us his birthday. Legally, that's the first we know of his existence, and, symbolically, it's like the day when he was given the chance to have a real, happy, loving life."
"September 20th then."
"September 20th," Marissa agreed, standing up and holding her hand out to help her husband climb to his feet as well. "But, for now," she continued leaning into him as he lifted the baby's carrier into his right hand, his left wound securely around her delicate waist, "let's go home…as a family." In answer, Ryan smiled down at her, while she turned to their daughter's still unmarked grave. "Mommy and Daddy will be back to see you soon," she promised. "We love you." Wiping away the last tear she would cry that afternoon, Marissa blew a tender kiss into the air, meaning it to touch and warm the cheek of her baby girl. Whispering an almost silent, "thank you," she tucked her head into Ryan's chest as he led them out of the graveyard towards their car and back to the life that was awaiting them, a life for the two of them and their son.
-+-
Letting an exhausted sigh escape his clenched lips, Ryan leaned back in the leather office chair behind his desk. It was two days after their monumental talk at their daughter's gravesite, and Ryan was back at work despite the fact that he only wanted to be by Marissa's side. He realized sitting there that she was the only thing that made him forget his pain, the only thing holding him together, the only thing helping him move past and move forward from the loss of their little girl. However, that said, it was still difficult to be around the baby boy their were raising as their own, and that's why he had decided to go back to work early. After explaining his feelings to Marissa, somehow needing her to reassure him that his fear of the child did not make him a monster, she had promised him that his reaction was perfectly understandable, that he was not disappointing her, and that their son would never know he was scared of him, because, despite Ryan not being able to see it, she could see it in his eyes that he already loved the little boy. There were moments when he could believe her, too.
When he watched Marissa with the baby, when he could see how much she already adored the cheery, beautiful child, his heart would swell with love for his wife, and, knowing that she cared for their son so much made him love the baby because he was capable of making her so happy, and in those moments he was able to forget the fact that Trey was the child's biological father and could feel as if he could be the Dad the baby deserved. It had hit him when he had watched Marissa strap the little boy into a stroller to take him for a walk down by the pier to show him the ocean for the first time, when she had screamed out in horror when the small child had peed on her when she was changing his diaper, and when he had accidentally walked in on her talking to their son and explaining to him that he had a big sister who was watching out for him, keeping him safe, and making sure that he was always healthy, protected, and content. In those moments, he knew she was right and that he would eventually love their son as much as he loved their deceased daughter.
Picking up the phone he had just put down after contacting a highly recommended lawyer to handle the complicated and long procedure of adopting his brother's abandoned, legally, so far, non-existent baby, he dialed a number long ago memorized. Waiting patiently for the loud, masculine, booming voice of his adoptive father or the soft, feminine, gentle voice of his adoptive mother to answer, Ryan went over the planned explanation he and Marissa had concocted together to tell their family. Surprising him, they both greeted him warmly on the phone, obviously setting it to speaker, as they forgot common courtesy and demanded information right away.
"Did it happen," Kirsten asked excitedly. "Did Marissa give birth?"
"How does it feel to be a Dad," Sandy questioned at the same time, jumping to conclusions and immediately assuming the answers to his wife's queries.
"Yes," Ryan answered, "she gave birth, and they're both doing well. The baby was born on the 20th, weighing seven pounds exactly, and its twenty inches long."
"Wednesday," his petite, blonde mother exploded, "she gave birth Wednesday and you're just now calling us! Ryan, that was five days ago!"
"I know, I know," he agreed, "but we were selfish and just wanted a few days alone as a family, just the three of us. We knew that you guys and Julie would rush here right away when we told you, but we didn't want that. We would love for you all to come down this weekend though. Marissa and I thought we'd have a picnic for the whole family and you'd all be able to meet him then."
"Well, alright, but I still wish…."
Kirsten's words were interrupted by Sandy's surprised, confused tone. "Wait, did you just say he? You had a boy…a son?"
"Yeah," Ryan answered, laughing. "It was unexpected for us, too."
"But you were all ready for a little girl," Kirsten stated the obvious. "What are you going to do now?"
"Marissa's just going to buy all new stuff," he answered, shrugging his shoulders dismissively despite the fact that they couldn't see his nonchalant behavior. "That's actually where she's at right now. I came into work while she went out shopping with the baby, and we're meeting at home this afternoon so I can help her set everything up in the new nursery." That was all he was going to say, for they didn't need to know that they were keeping their daughter's room intact for a while until the point when they were ready to part with her things, and, even once they were, some of it would be packed away and saved as a remembrance of her while the rest would be donated to charity instead of simply returned to the stores.
"I'm sure Julie and Kirsten will be going shopping all this week to help as well," Sandy joked at his wife and former mother-in-law's expense. "And before you say it's unnecessary," he stopped Ryan from speaking, "just remember that we're talking about two Newpsies with black AmEx cards. Their will is not their own; it's controlled by the plastic their well manicured hands clutch so desperately."
"We're not that bad," Kirsten defended, "well at least I'm not, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to pick up a few things for my new grandson."
"That's fine," Ryan decided to not even attempt trying to stop her from shopping, "but could you wait until this evening to call Julie. Marissa hasn't talked to her Mom yet, and this news should really come from us first."
"That's no problem," Sandy promised his son. "What about Seth and Summer though? Have you two talked to them yet?"
"No, we haven't, but we thought that perhaps you and Kirsten would like to tell them, help us spread the news."
"We'd love to, Ryan," she replied breathlessly, smiling at the idea.
"Thanks, but I really have to go. I have to stop by the store on my way home and pick up some groceries. Plus, I have to finish painting the baby's room tonight."
Before he could hang up, the older man's voice rang out, stopping Ryan, the man who had been the only real father to him his entire life. "Wait! You never told us the baby's name."
"It's August Buckley Atwood," Ryan revealed, waiting for their responses which were undoubtedly going to be interesting.
"Buckley," they exclaimed together at the same time, making the younger man chuckle.
"Yeah…we know it's a little unconventional, but it's a name that means a lot to both Marissa and I." With one last laugh, he went to end the conversation. "We'll see you this weekend," and hung up the phone while his parents were still in a shocked silence. Picking up the paperwork he had yet to even start, Ryan made his way out of his office. Suddenly, he realized he would rather work at home and watch Marissa with their son instead of sitting alone in his office. He might not be perfectly comfortable with the baby yet, but, in that moment, he would rather be with him than away from his wife. So, with a smile on his face, a whistle on his lips, and just a hint of sadness for their recent loss in his eye, Ryan made his way home to wait for his wife, their second miracle, and her numerous bags of blue baby supplies.
-+-
"Ryan, I need your help," Marissa called out to her husband as soon as she entered their home that evening. He could hear the baby's cries and the urgent tone of her voice, making him worry. Running down the stairs as quickly as he could for he had been painting just as he had said he had to, he took the steps two at a time, rushing to her side, and searched her body, her face, her eyes for any sign that she wasn't okay.
"What, what is it," he panted out, his breathing labored due to his exertion of energy. "Are you alright?"
"I have to go to the bathroom," she yelled over her shoulder as she hurriedly retraced his steps up the staircase after shoving their crying son into his stiff, awkward arms. "He's hungry, but I couldn't feed him in the stores. I might not be bashful, but breast feeding in the middle of a mall is definitely something even I won't do."
With no other explanation, she rushed away, leaving Ryan and the little boy alone. Under his breath, he complained, "you'll have sex in the middle of a mall but you won't feed a baby." Rolling his eyes, he groaned, "women," his words only eliciting louder, more tearful wails to come forth from the small child in his arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he hastily apologized to the baby. "I won't tease your Mom. Just do me a favor and quit crying." Staring at his upset son, Ryan hoped his small plea would silence the shrill screams coming forth from the small boy's mouth, but it only seemed to make him cry harder. "Shit," he cursed before his eyes widened and he realized he had just swore in front of his child. "I mean shoot. Come on, Ryan, this isn't rocket science; it's just a baby. What would Marissa do?"
Stepping away from himself to observe the scene objectively, he realized that holding the baby underneath his arms and outstretched away from his body as far as he could was probably not going to soothe the upset child's fears or calm him. So, swallowing his nerves, he pulled the little boy into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around his tiny body and cradling him in his protective hands, one cupping his delicate head while the other wrapped securely around his petite back.
"Hey, it's okay, buddy; I've got you. Mommy's going to be back in a minute, but, until she gets here, do you think you could stop crying for a minute, give me a break and make her see that I'm not a completely hopeless parent? You know, we men have to stick together. It's going to be us against Mommy for a long time, and, before you came along, Mommy's always won, so I definitely could use your help." Without even realizing what he was doing, Ryan bent his head down to rest upon his son's, dropping a light, airy kiss upon the soft, blonde wisps of hair that were the same color as his own as a little boy. "Come on, August," he coaxed as the child's wails turned into whimpers, "you can do it…for Daddy." And, just like that, the baby's cries were silenced, and, suddenly content, he burrowed his head into Ryan's chest, closing his crystal blue eyes and grasping hold of the t-shirt Ryan was wearing.
"Sorry we were later than expected," Marissa apologized as she slowly made her way back downstairs to stand beside her husband. Wrapping her arms around him and rubbing one of her hands in gentle circles upon their son's back, she leaned her head against his shoulder before continuing. "Everywhere we went people kept stopping me and asking about the baby. They all wanted to smile and coo at him, and, of course, I couldn't pass up every opportunity to show off our perfect, beautiful, precious son and tell them that he looked like his handsome Daddy." Briefly she saw a flash of painful doubt flash through her husband's eyes as his mind went to his brother before he realized that she was talking about him, but, just as quickly as it appeared, it left again to be replaced by a lazy, content smile. Leaning up, Marissa placed several kisses along his jaw line, loving the feeling of his five o'clock shadow roughly scratching her soft lips. "Come on," she urged him, moving the three of them towards the stairs. "Let's go up and I'll feed August while you sit and tell me about your day."
"And we'll call your Mom," he suggested, smirking at the thought of the conversation they were about to have with his mother-in-law. "I'm sure she'll be able to provide us with a few laughs."
"Or a migraine," Marissa added ruefully.
"Don't worry," Ryan promised her, letting go of their son with one arm to pull her flush against his body again and meeting her lips with his own. "I won't let her upset you, and, once we're done talking to her, I'll give you a massage. You feel tense from shopping anyway."
"That sounds perfect. Have I told you yet today how much I love you?"
"You just did," he assured her, kissing her one last time before patting her softly on her tempting derrière before following her up the stairs to their bedroom. "And I love you, too." All three of you, he added silently.
-+-
Much later that night after they had napped while August napped, after Marissa had fed their son while Ryan carried in the endless amount of bags from her marathon shopping excursion, after they had dinner, bathed the little boy, and then put him to bed, the two of them were laying in their room while their small child slept peacefully in his bassinet. Just as Ryan had promised, he was giving her a massage. Dressed solely in a pair of boxers, he hovered over his wife, kneading, caressing, and soothing the tense muscles of her neck, back and shoulders, his hands gentle and tender in their ministrations. It had only been a week and a half since she had given birth to their daughter, and though it seemed as if a lifetime had passed from that unforgettable day until that moment they were so intimately sharing, he knew it was much too soon for them to be together as husband and wife, but that did not stop his imagination from running wild as his hips straddled her curvaceous body, as his hands molded themselves to her luscious, silky smooth skin, as his lips, practically on their own instinctual accord, found their way onto her neck. Just as always, her signature scent enveloped his senses, the classic Chanel No.5 perfume she wore mixing effortlessly with her cocoa butter lotion and apple shampoo to send his desire over the brink. Even if it would make his current state of arousal that much more painful, Ryan couldn't deny himself the pleasure of really kissing his wife, of joining their palettes together and letting his tongue explore and taste every nuance of her delicious mouth. Carefully, he moved her so that she was laying on her back, settling his body, once again, over hers as he subconsciously grinded his hips into hers, eliciting moans to escape from his wife's parted lips and causing her eyelashes to flutter in a crazed, uncontrollable manner.
"I'm sorry," he quickly went to move away from her. "I got carried away."
But she wouldn't let him, and, instead, pulled him closer to her by wrapping her arms around his body. Despite the slight pain her actions caused, the pleasure she felt by having her husband between her legs and from feeling his need for her pressed up against her thigh was far more important. Letting a sigh of contentment tickle his face that was hovering above hers, she opened her eyes to gaze into his. "Kiss me," she begged.
Ryan did not have to be asked twice. Lowering his lips to her own, he slowly sipped at her, barely brushing their mouths together before pulling back and repeating his actions, but soon the embraces were not enough and, as their passion escalated and took over, their gentle kisses quickly turned into fervent ones, their tongues dancing together in a sensual, endless, obsessive clinch of wild, reckless, uncontrollable desire.
"Roll over," Marissa ordered as she pulled breathlessly away from her husband's insistent mouth. As he did what he was told, she slid herself down his body, letting her lips kiss a fiery, decadent path down his taunt, muscular chest. "Just because my need can't be satisfied," she purred out saucily, "that doesn't mean I can't do a little something to help you out." Darting her tongue out, she continued to tantalize his senses as she licked her way down his stomach, stopping briefly to graze her teeth against his belly button before slipping her velvety hands into his boxers and rapidly pulling them down, her deft fingers immediately finding their way to his painful erection. "You've taken such good care of me," her lips were so close to him as she spoke, he could feel them vibrating with her seductive words, "but now it's time for me to take care of you." And with that, her hot, wet, sweet mouth found his body again, stimulating the sensitive part of him over and over again until his senses exploded into ecstasy, and the only thought piercing his hazy, lust filled mind, were those of love and devotion for his family, for his wife, their deceased daughter, and their sleeping son.
Life wasn't perfect and it never would be, but he lived for the moments when it was almost ideal, and as he rested in bed that night after Marissa had so thoroughly pleasured him, his sleeping, scantily clad wife wrapped carefully around his naked body while their son slept on peacefully across the room from them, Ryan realized he was living one of those moments. Closing his eyes to join his family in his dreams, he thanked his baby girl for watching out for them and for all the blessings in life. After everything that had happened to, so quickly, change their existence and despite all the pain they had gone through and were still experiencing, he was happy. Ryan Atwood, husband and father, was happy.
