Disclaimer: I do not own the OC. Yet. But I'm saving up.
Author's Note: When I get this story done, I'm doing nothing but The Funny for two months straight. Seriously. This is just getting silly. But I can't stop myself. I blame it all on my childhood, as I did grow up a poor white boy on the streets of Chino.
This chapter is dedicated to ben. Look twice at that attachment I sent you ben. Chapter nine, not eight, nine. Have some faith. I take care of my boy Seth.
Thanks all, for the reading and the reviewing.
Thanks crashcmb, for the reading, and the reviewing, and the betaing, and the re-reading, and the re-reviewing, etc....
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Best of Intentions
Chapter Nine
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Sandy allows Seth some privacy while the boy dries off and changes into pajamas.
Privacy.
Basically defined as Sandy sitting outside of Seth's bedroom, the door slightly ajar, listening for signs of Seth passing out or vomiting. He had some serious doubts about leaving his son alone after Seth asked why he couldn't go to sleep in wet boxers.
It's been five minutes and Sandy's patience is all used up. He enters Seth's room half expecting to see his son lying on the floor. Instead, Seth is on his bed, sporting fresh pajama pants and a t-shirt, and whispering in Captain Oats' ear. He looks up at his father, slightly embarrassed, and puts the horse back down on his nightstand.
"Everything go ok?" Sandy asks, skipping the opportunity to razz Seth about his preoccupation with the plastic pet.
"Yep," Seth manages to croak out. He's clearly wiped out after the bath and struggling to keep his eyes open. "I uh, even gargled, although it was disgusting. I don't think Listerine even tastes as bad as salt."
Sandy nods in sympathy, walks over to Seth's bed and puts his hand on his son's forehead. Seth feels a little cooler but Sandy would prefer a more accurate reading.
"I'm going to run and get the thermometer," he tells his son. "Do you want anything to eat? You must be a little hungry."
Seth calculates his chances of getting anything other than that god-awful soup his mother keeps trying to force into him. His dad's a pushover. This shouldn't be too hard.
"Blue Popsicle?" Seth frowns and motions to his throat in an attempt to drive home the point that he is suffering greatly due to the mono.
"Sure," Sandy readily agrees.
Seth turns his head and smiles a wickedly Grinchy grin.
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As they enter the hotel's restaurant, Kirsten asks Ryan, "Do you see him?"
Ryan points to a corner table where a gentleman sits alone, only the side of his head visible to them.
For the first time, Kirsten gets a chance to see the man that is a possible threat to her new family.
She's disappointed that he looks normal, mundane, and average. She realizes that she was hoping for a pressed military uniform, something that would make Ed appear cold, authoritarian, and distant.
Instead, he's dressed in jeans and a navy blue Henley. When he turns, spots them, and stands up to face them, Kirsten instantly knows why Sandy is so sure that this man is Ryan's father.
It's the eyes.
Ryan has his eyes.
"Wait here," she smiles at the teenager. "I'll be right back."
Ryan looks at her questioningly and Kirsten adds, "Trust me."
The teenager nods and steps back. He sits down on a chair right outside the restaurant and studies the carpet.
Kirsten approaches Ed Carden slowly. She doesn't have any idea what to say to the man. She had the whole drive to think of something.
Why didn't she plan something to say?
When she reaches the table, Ed extends his hand.
"Hi," he says quickly, "Ed Carden, and I'm assuming you are Kirsten Cohen."
"Yes," she answers softly, hesitates for a moment, and then shakes Ed's hand. "I asked Ryan to wait a second," she tells Ed. "I'd like just the two of us to talk for a moment."
"Of course," Ed instantly agrees, pulls out a chair for Kirsten. "Anything. I'm just amazed that you actually brought him. I've been sitting here for twenty minutes expecting you to call and cancel."
Kirsten settles herself in the chair. A waitress immediately descends and Kirsten orders a bottle of water. She waits until the waitress leaves before addressing Ed's admission.
"I almost didn't come, but I made Ryan a promise."
Ed nods and drops his head. He feels guilty. He made the kid a promise too, to take him to see his mother. In retrospect, it was a stupid thing to do. When he looks back up, Kirsten Cohen is watching him closely.
Ed's in the military.
He recognizes when he is being sized up.
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Ryan peeks around the corner into the restaurant. Kirsten is staring at the guy and the guy is staring at Kirsten.
Motherfucker better not screw with Kirsten.
Ryan stands up, runs his fingers through his hair, and unconsciously pats his jeans for a pack of cigarettes that isn't there.
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It's more than just the eyes, Kirsten observes. It's other little things, like his nose, and his hands, and the way he diverts his eyes right after he says something. He's handsome in the same way Ryan is and he somehow manages to project the same mix of self-doubt and outward strength that Ryan possesses.
She wonders that if she just randomly met Ed Carden on the street, would she recognize the pieces of her foster son in this man? Or, would she walk right past him?
Kirsten clears her throat and begins. "Sandy told me you have two sons."
"Yes," Carden confirms.
"So do I," Kirsten states bluntly. "And before I bring one of them over here, I want your word that you will not do anything that will endanger this child."
Ed nods slowly.
"Mentally or physically," Kirsten adds.
Ed continues to nod, "I understand Mrs. Cohen. You have my word of honor. I'm sorry that things got so out of control yesterday. This has been quite traumatic for me and I just lost all common sense for a little while. But I promise, I only want to make sure that Ryan is safe."
"Then that's another thing we have in common," Kirsten informs him. She excuses herself to retrieve her foster son.
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"Can I buy a mean Popsicle or what?" Sandy inquires of his sleepy son.
Seth nods, sinks a little deeper into his bed. His eyes are shut but he's still eating the frozen treat, his lips and tongue displaying a slightly bluish tinge.
"Seth, I can't let you fall asleep until I apologize for my behavior tonight."
"You should," Seth chastises. "That bath was cruel."
Sandy laughs but he sounds sad, "I'm not talking about the bath Seth."
"I know that," Seth says drowsily and bites off a chunk of Popsicle.
"This must all be a bit confusing for you Seth. I'm astounded you aren't drilling me for information."
Seth shrugs, makes a face and swallows.
"Do you want to ask me any questions Seth?" Sandy asks. This quieter, more sedate version of his son has Sandy slightly unbalanced. He's usually so comfortable with Seth. But the boy's recent health scare combined with Sandy's earlier behavior has the lawyer off his game.
"Did you lie to Ryan?" Seth asks in an accusatory tone. The scratchiness of his sore throat adds a level of harshness to the question. "In the hospital, I didn't understand why he was asking. But now I do." Seth opens his eyes, locks them with his father, tries to look defiant despite his vulnerable condition.
"Ryan asked me if you ever lied Dad, and I told him no. I defended you."
Sandy watches Seth carefully.
"So how long have you known about this guy, Dad, 'cause Ryan and Mom think you found out yesterday. Did you find out yesterday? Or have you know for a while?"
"Yes," Sandy responds, his heart hurting that Seth would even have this question and be so unsure of the answer. "Yes, I just found out yesterday Seth. Dawn called. A man came to my office. And then your mother called and told me she was taking you to the hospital Seth. That's the kind of day I had yesterday."
Seth considers his dad's answer. "Your day sucked too."
"You have no idea Seth," Sandy wearily affirms his son's declaration.
"Do you have any other questions?" Sandy asks his son.
"Nope," Seth hands a sticky lump of Popsicle remains over to his father. The teenager yawns and pulls his comforter up to his neck.
"You don't have any other questions about anything that has taken place with Ryan over the last twenty-four hours?" Sandy asks skeptically, gingerly trying to balance the melting Popsicle, keep it from running between his fingers.
Seth rolls over on his side, his back facing his father.
"Ryan will tell me everything when's he's ready," Seth mumbles.
He's almost asleep. Sandy recognizes the telltale signs.
This Seth is familiar. He used to carry the same one from the car after a late night out. Sandy closes his eyes and he can feel Seth's hands around his neck, little boy legs wrapped around his waist.
Once upon a time.
Things were simpler then.
Sandy almost tells his son that he's a good friend, that his steadfast faith in Ryan is admirable and his waiting for information a true sign of loyalty.
But something about that sentiment doesn't feel right.
Sandy turns off Seth's light, leaves the bedroom door open. He starts to walk down the hallway but then stops, turns around, and returns to his son's bedroom.
Sandy recognizes what was flawed in his thinking, Seth's not just Ryan's good friend anymore. Time is changing that. He can't be the only one that feels it happening.
He says into the darkened room, "You're a good brother Seth."
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Kirsten finds Ryan standing by the entrance of the restaurant.
"You ready for this?" she asks him.
"No," he answers with a shy smile.
She reaches under his elbow, guides him into the restaurant. "Neither am I, "she confides.
Months ago Ryan would have flinched at her touch. He's accepting it now, as they steer their way towards Ed Carden.
She told Carden she had two sons.
It felt good to say it.
It felt right, even if it was to a stranger.
Even if it doesn't feel right yet, to say it to Ryan.
Small steps.
The biggest houses she builds still start out with a simple frame.
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Ed stands for the second time. Again, he pulls out Kirsten Cohen's chair.
She's beautiful, stunning really, and graceful.
Sara used to be this kind of beautiful, but time and age were starting to catch up with her. Too many hours of work, not enough exercise, the boys' needs overriding her own. She had taken on a new beauty to him, a more meaningful one.
Ryan sits down and Ed snaps back to the present, realizes that he is the only one still standing.
He finds his own chair and sits down.
The three of them sit in silence. Ed knows it's his place to begin. He's just not sure how in the hell to start the conversation.
Jesus, this kid looks like Brad. It's eerie, like taking a sneak peek into the future. He has to resist an urge to reach out and touch Ryan, affirm that the boy is real.
Ed takes a deep breath and purses his lips together. He's being such a goddamn baby. Suck it up and be a man, he tells himself. This is what you wanted. It's time to close the deal.
"Thank you for coming tonight Ryan," he starts off. "I appreciate the second chance and although I already apologized to you for last night, I want to reiterate that my actions were absolutely irresponsible and without honor."
Ed can't read whether or not his words have sunk in. The kid's head is down. Ed has to assume that Ryan is listening.
"And I obviously owe you an apology as well Mrs. Cohen, for what I put your family through during such a trying time, with your son in the hospital."
Kirsten at least acknowledges his words with a slight nod.
Tough crowd, Ed surmises. No wonder Sandy Cohen can talk circles around him. Living with these two, the guy must get in a lot of practice listening to his own voice.
Ed blows out a puff of air. "So as I was saying, I'm so sorry about last night and..."
"It's too late to see my mom tonight," Ryan interjects suddenly. "I don't want Kirsten in Chino this late. What time do you want to go tomorrow?"
"Um," Ed stammers. "I, uh..." He looks at Ryan in surprise. The kid stares back at him, indirectly though, with his face down and his eyes up.
The look, it reminds Ed of his oldest son Josh, at the funeral.
Just like Josh at the wake, just like Josh whenever anyone mentions his dead mother.
Ed still wonders, that look, is it anger or hate or both or neither. Maybe it's their way of controlling situations, or a coping mechanism, or a barrier.
"About that," Ed says slowly. It's his turn to drop his head. Ed gathers his thoughts, raises his head again, and tells Ryan, "We're probably going to have to put that visit on hold for now."
"You couldn't reach Dawn?" Kirsten asks. Ed swings his gaze in her direction. He had almost forgotten she was there.
He grimaces, tries to think of a delicate way to present Dawn's lack of motivation to intercede on behalf of her already neglected son.
Ryan spares Ed the trouble of concocting an alibi for Dawn.
"She doesn't want to see me," the boy states dully, drops his head.
Again, this kid and his timing. Ed swears the teen only speaks at peak points of tension.
Carden considers lying, telling Ryan that Dawn didn't answer her phone. But this kid's no idiot and he's obviously not naïve when it comes to Dawn's deficiencies as a parent.
"I think she's really, really overwhelmed right now Ryan." Ed hopes the kid buys it. He doubts he will.
"Yeah," Ryan retorts contemptuously. "I'm sure that's it."
"You know what?" Kirsten jumps into the fray, locks eyes with Ed. "I don't think this is an appropriate place to have this conversation. Could we possibly go somewhere more private?"
Ed immediately picks up on her concerns. Ryan's body is rigid. The one hand that is visible is bouncing a fork up and down.
"Absolutely." Ed answers. "We can go to my hotel room, if that's alright with you Mrs. Cohen."
Kirsten stands up, pulls at Ryan's upper arm. "We'll meet you in the lobby," she says.
"Come on Ryan," she urges the boy to stand up. The fork plunks down on the table.
Ed watches the two of them exit the restaurant. He calls the waitress over, tells her that dinner has been cancelled, gives her a tip, and apologizes for any inconvenience.
He manages a fake smile but drops it the minute the waitress leaves.
Shit, Ed thinks to himself, this kid is wound tighter than a marine.
Maybe Sandy Cohen was right about the jumping from A to Z thing.
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Sandy calls a neighbor with a toddler, asks if she has an unused baby monitor he can borrow. She assures him that they do have an extra one, she'll send her husband over with it right away, wishes him good luck with Seth.
"Seth's such a friendly kid," she compliments Sandy. "He stops by and plays with Morgan every time we're in the front yard." Before she hangs up she adds, "I should have said both the boys are nice kids, Sandy. Ryan's just as sweet."
He thanks her and hangs up. She's a good neighbor.
He checks on Seth, takes his temperature for a second time since the bath and Motrin combo. It's positive news, 101.3, down even more than the first time. Seth doesn't stir despite Sandy's tugging at his ear.
Sandy wanders back into the living room. He phones Kirsten, but she doesn't answer and he doesn't bother to leave a message.
He's too late.
Kirsten must be sticking to her word. She really isn't coming home. She really brought Ryan to see Ed Carden.
The doorbell rings before Sandy can delve any further into his thoughts on Kirsten's actions. He answers it, thanks the husband for the monitor, places the listening device in Seth's room, puts the receiver unit next to the phone in the kitchen, makes a sandwich but doesn't eat it, drinks a beer, and waits for the rest of his family to come home.
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Ed Carden's hotel room is spotless. One king size bed, still made, a laptop sitting neatly on the single table in the room. Nothing else is out. Kirsten tries not to draw a connection between this room and the pool house.
Get a grip, she admonishes herself, tidiness isn't hereditary.
Ed closes the door behind them, pulls two chairs over from the table, and invites his guests to have a seat. He sits himself down at the foot of the bed.
"I uh, need to apologize again Ryan. I promised you a visit to your mom, and now it looks like that isn't going to happen. You must think I'm a real jerk, huh?"
Ryan picks at his nails. "Pretty much," he mutters and raises his head slightly.
Ed sighs. The eyes glaring through the bangs thing is back. This kid could teach Josh a thing or two about intimidating your adversary through mere eye contact.
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Kirsten watches Ed and Ryan interact.
This meeting is a disaster.
If Ryan came tonight hoping for some kind of resolution, it's obvious that it's going to take more than Ed's apologies to accomplish that. She wonders if Sandy would be satisfied, content to see Ryan dripping with disdain for this man. Or if her husband would be sad for Ryan, that yet another adult that could hold a meaningful connection to the teen is failing to do so.
Ryan's best interests, Kirsten reminds herself; this is about Ryan being at peace, not turning him off to Ed.
She swallows her first instinct to gather the teenager and take off for home. Instead, she says to Ed, "Could I possibly have a word alone with Ryan?"
Carden nods, steps into the hallway and leaves Kirsten with her foster son.
"Do you want to go or stay?" she asks Ryan.
"Stay." He answers.
"Then let's think of five questions you want to ask him," Kirsten suggests. "Maybe it will be a little easier to talk to him."
"I already know what I want to ask him," Ryan tells her quietly.
Kirsten stands up and asks Ryan, "I just sent the wrong person into the hallway, didn't I?"
Ryan drops his head, doesn't respond.
Kirsten opens the hotel room door, asks Ed to step back inside. As he passes her, she whispers, "You gave me your word."
Ed looks over his shoulder and sees the door close.
He's the one alone with Ryan now.
"How many times did you sleep with my mother?" Ryan asks, straightens his head and stares down Ed. "Didn't you care that she was married? Would you want someone doing that, sleeping with your wife?"
Carden takes a deep breath and sits down in the chair left vacant by Kirsten.
"Let me start from the beginning Ryan," Ed suggests.
"When I was eighteen, my sister and I moved to Fresno."
Ryan looks away and listens.
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Kirsten paces in the corridor. She keeps waiting to hear furniture banging against the walls, or perhaps bodies. But no sound is coming from Ed Carden's hotel room. Ryan's either keeping his cool or beating the hell out of Carden quietly.
She shouldn't have left the two of them alone, but she did. Ryan wanted it and she gave in. Seth may be the master manipulator of the family but Ryan is a close second. Calculated or not, he often passively forces her and Sandy to react differently than they normally would, allow things to slide more than they ever would allow with Seth, extend boundaries further than boundaries should be extended for the average sixteen-year-old.
Kirsten convinces herself that they are so lenient with Ryan because he's so much more mature than Seth. But in reality she wonders if she and Sandy are afraid to lay down the law with their foster son, afraid that if they tighten the leash too much, they may wake up to find an empty pool house.
So many issues they still need to tackle as a family. Ryan's insecurity about his place with them is only the tip of the iceberg.
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Ed omits a few things, skims over several more.
Something tells Ed that Ryan is damn well aware of the drinking, physical abuse and drug usage that plagued his parents in Fresno. Those elements aren't crucial to the story. He tells Ryan that he loved Dawn, that he wanted her to come and live with him, that Dawn was good with Trey, she loved her family. It only takes Ed ten minutes to relate the entire edited history of him and Dawn Atwood. He fills a few more minutes updating Ryan on what he has done since he left Fresno, the military, his sons, Sara's recent death.
The fact that Ryan didn't utter a single word, let alone make any attempt to interrupt him, has Ed wondering if the kid has ice in his veins instead of blood.
But a funny thing has happened. The teenager actually seems more relaxed than when Ed started talking. Ed assumed that Ryan would become increasingly agitated with the details of the affair, but he's received the news with complete apathy.
"Ryan," Ed leans into the boy's personal space, tries to get the teenager to focus in on him. "I just threw a lot of information in your direction. Is there anything else I can tell you?"
"Why did you tell Sandy I called you?" Ryan's question is full of controlled anger.
"That was a mistake," Ed admits. "One of many I've made concerning this entire situation. That's the last time though that I reveal anything that we talk about to anyone. I want you to feel like you can trust me."
Ryan doesn't acknowledge Ed's admission.
"Do you have my mom's address and phone number?"
Ed walks over to the closet, digs a piece of paper out of his briefcase, and hands it to Ryan. The teenager shoves it into his pocket, murmurs a barely audible, "Thanks."
"You must have a few questions Ryan. This must all seem surreal to you. If I'm having trouble as an adult processing all of it, I can't imagine how it is that you are keeping yourself so composed. Don't you have anything you want to ask me? Can you tell me a little about yourself? Can you tell me what you think about all this?"
"Why do you want a paternity test?" Ryan's voice is flat. He's still looking the opposite direction of Ed. "You should drop that, it's pissing Sandy off."
"Don't you want to know the truth Ryan?" Ed inquires. He sits back down in the chair next to the teen. "We can't live in this limbo of not knowing. At least I can't live like that. If you are my son, I need to step up to the plate and take responsibility. I would have done that years ago if I had known about you. And I know you're my son Ryan. I've thought that since the first time I saw your picture. And last night, at the Cohens' house, any doubts I still had flew out the window the moment I met you."
Carden is too close. The teenager needs space. Ryan stands up, cautiously wanders over to the balcony, and glimpses out the sliding glass door.
"It doesn't make any difference," Ryan speaks softly. "Even if I am your kid, what the hell difference does it make? It doesn't change anything."
Carden puts his hands in his lap, rubs them nervously. This is the moment he's been waiting for since Thursday afternoon, when Dawn showed him the picture, told him that she had given their child away. He wasn't halfway out of Chino before he even started to think about this.
"I'd like you to consider living with me and my family Ryan. Dawn deprived me of the opportunity to be your father Ryan, and that wasn't fair to either of us. This is our chance to make it right."
"I don't even know you," Ryan scoffs, sounding more irritated than angry. "Why would I want to live with you?"
Ed's ready for this. He's rehearsed his comeback a million times. He wishes that Kristen Cohen hadn't come tonight. After meeting her, his resolve is a bit weaker than it had been when an aggressive Sandy Cohen was the only one standing in his way of persuading Ryan to leave the Cohen home.
"You didn't know the Cohens either Ryan, when you first went to live with them. Your mother just left you there, with strangers. She told me that she called a cab and walked away. But you dealt with it, didn't you Ryan. That's because you're a survivor. And the Cohens are nice and generous, and after meeting them both, it's obvious to me that they care a great deal for you. But blood is blood Ryan. And if you could start over with the Cohens, then there's no reason you can't make another fresh start with my family. Because let's face it Ryan, Sandy Cohen may be one hell of a guy, but in the end he's just your lawyer. I'm offering you a chance to live with people who are your real family. You should have been with me all your life Ryan. I would never leave one of my sons with strangers. And now that I've been lucky enough to discover you, I have no intention of just abandoning my responsibilities. I'm not calling a taxi and walking away from you Ryan. I'm not getting on an airplane and pretending you don't exist."
Ed watches Ryan for a reaction, but there isn't one. The teenager just keeps staring out the balcony door.
Kirsten Cohen is in the hallway, right outside his hotel room door. Ed promised her he would do the right thing for Ryan. And he's spent every moment since Dawn told him about this child trying to figure out what the right thing is. The right thing is for Ryan to live with his family, to be a part of something that is real, not contrived out of lack of options. Thank god Ryan met the Cohens. They filled a temporary void and they kept him safe.
But it's time for them to step aside and let this kid go where he belongs. Give him an opportunity to be a part of his family.
"You gave the Cohens a chance Ryan. All I want is for you to meet my family and at least consider the possibility of moving in with us. Please don't hold me responsible for Dawn's actions Ryan. The fact that she has kept you from me this long is tearing me up inside. To know that you brought a child into this world and that child has grown up in poverty and abuse, I cannot put into words how devastating that is. All I want from you Ryan is the chance that your mother robbed me of. The chance to be your father."
Ed's done talking.
There's nothing else to say.
The rest is up to Ryan.
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At the end of the hallway, the elevator opens up and a woman in jeans and a yellow t-shirt emerges. Behind her, two boys stumble out, each carrying a suitcase way too big for them. Both the kids have baseball caps on, one Cubs, one Cardinals. Their heads are down as they concentrate on not tripping over their burdens.
"You guys seriously need to eat more Wheaties," Kirsten hears the woman say playfully. The smaller of the boys gives up trying to drag the suitcase and drops it in the middle of the hallway.
"I surrender," he announces, takes off his baseball hat and throws it at the bigger boy who is still making a gallant effort to wrestle a suitcase into submission. The hat zooms past its intended victim and lands a few feet from Kirsten. She walks over and picks it up.
"Brad, quit it," the woman admonished. "Be nice, we're all tired."
The boy mutters an apology and runs after his hat.
When he reaches Kirsten, he holds out his hand in anticipation of regaining custody of his headgear. "Thanks lady," he says, happily emitting a huge smile.
Kirsten stares at the child, her mouth wide-open. He's all sandy blonde hair and sparkling blue-gray eyes.
His smile lights up his face.
Sandy was right.
It's amazing really.
Ed Carden's little boy does look just like Ryan.
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To be continued.................