A/N.: Thank you, my lovely Beta reader and thanks for the reviews
10.
He had rejected me. He had wanted me to leave, but this time it doesn't impress me. I can understand when he's hurt by my wife's behaviour, and listening to a fight about him wasn't the best experience for him; but I won't give him the chance to retreat. Not this time. I'm sitting in the waiting area and I ask why I'm alone? Where's my wife? Isn't she supposed to be here too? I know it's only a minor surgery, but I'm still afraid that something might happen. The boy had looked awfully devastated about the fact that he had to undergo surgery once again. It seems as if he'd given up some kind of hope – all hope, if he ever had any. Right now I realise that something had pulled his trigger, and now we're back to where we'd been before six months ago. What had it been? Marissa's take off? My wife's outburst yesterday? Her fight with our son? Had he recognised that Seth is somehow jealous? I have no clue, but something had thrown him for a loop and we sit in front of the results. I thought that this vacation idea was good too, but in Ryan's current state this is no good idea. I sit and wait. Where's my wife? I sometimes fear she might have lost an interest in our second son. I can't believe that, but sometimes it looks like that. She hadn't shown any concern about the boy since last night, and she just took it that his surgery was now. She's supposed to be here, but she isn't. Where the hell is she? I told her the hour. She should've found the time to come here. Oh…no, Soph. I forgot. I'm sure since last night she'll never ever allow someone else having an eye on our little daughter. But the boy? Our family life is one chaos and I regret that we can't take the chance of a family vacation, but I can't do this to the boy. Not after surgery, not with an injured knee and not with a burnt back. Hell, how am I – or we, if my wife starts to act normal again – to make him accept that he won't recover anymore? It's impossible, right. You can't tell him that his knee will never be what it once was. Being able to walk when he has luck. Luck. What does luck mean regarding him? He never seems to have luck – at least not the same amount other people seem to have. Dude, this boy has hit it hard, really hard. I sigh and go on waiting. I have a look onto the clock, but the time doesn't seem to move any further. I'm waiting for the surgery to end and for my wife to appear somewhere here. It's a mother's duty to be present in such a situation. I'm clueless and at my wits' end. I only hope she'll be there. I sit down. I take a magazine, but I can't concentrate on it and thus put it away again. I'm restless. I have to be. It's one of my kids', who's behind these mysterious doors. I fulfil my fatherly duties of worry and concern. I can't be blamed.
"Hey honey, sorry for being late." For God's sake. Thanks to whomever , who made her understand the seriousness of this situation, and made this beautiful head functioning motherly again. She storms towards me and kisses me.
"Did you find someone for Sophie?" I ask her.
"Seth said he wanted to give it a second try. He seems to suffer from a serious case of bad conscience after last night's incidents." She answers and sits down.
"Well, we're not over with the consequences yet." I tell her. The nagging bad conscience is written all over her face. It causes a strange sensation of relieve to know that my wife still has some empathy left.
"I didn't mean to freak out like that. I…just…I dunno. It's like our family is falling apart and I'm awfully afraid of this to happen after all we invested to make things work out." She says. We'd known that it would become more difficult to be a family when Sophie was there. It was a new situation for all of us. Seth has had a real sister and had to share the attention with a baby that will claim most of it for the next few years. Ryan has to overcome his fears that we might start to be bothered by him, now where we have a second own biological child. And Kirsten and I have to juggle everything and right now it feels like we haven't done a good job.
"What's that?" I ask her and point at the soft-toy – a monkey – in her lap.
"Uh…this…is a long story…Seth and I recognised that…well Ryan hasn't got any soft-toy and you know Soph and Seth both have gotten one to their birth…you know to protect them and so on and I just thought…Ryan needs one too." She says. I look at her. I'm puzzled by this idea of her's. I doubt that this is what the boy needs right now and I also doubt that the boy is all for something like that. A soft-toy. As if a soft-toy could solve the problems we're faced with again. As if a soft-toy could make the visit from the social worker undone. As if a soft-toy could make Ryan aware of his place in our family. As if a soft-toy could express a 'sorry' or a feeling. A soft-toy and into the bargain a monkey. I'd like to have an insight into the mental process of my wife.
"What's up your mind?" My wife asks me. I study her face to know, whether I can risk telling her the truth. I have to.
"I think it's a really nice idea, but right now…a little out of place or did you forget that he has called his social worker to annul the adoption?" I ask her. This fact won't evaporate like bloing water. It had happened and now stands betweem us like a he elephant.
"No…and…I just…Sandy do you know how bad it hurts, seeing how we raise Soph, how she'll grow up and that we would do everything for her and in the same time having a kid – you love the same as your own, because you consider him as yours – that never will make the same experiences, that never will have his parents around anymore? Do you know how hard it is to know that Ryan has to watch what he never had and never will get?" She asks me. Only now I realise that there is a fear inside of us too. A fear we can't get rid of, because we can't prevent Ryan from watching this. I don't want to be in his place right now. It's the fear that you expose your child to some kind of painful experience, an experience that offers you the greatest joy and the biggest fear at once.
"But we have to deal with it right now. We can't close the eyes from this." I only say.
"Sandy, I don't close my eyes, I only do…what I think can…help him and us…and I…don't know, maybe it had been a stupid idea." She says and wants to leave. I grab her arm.
"No…I'm sorry. It probably won't help us…to sort things out…but maybe we can give him something from his childhood back." I say and I wish it could help. At least it can show that we're there for him and that we never would neglect him, only because we have a new family member now. Maybe he realises how hard this is for us as well.
"Is this what you think or did you only tell me this to calm me down?" She asks me.
"I mean it, but I can't forget the feeling…the fear in my spine when Neil stood in front of our door and said that Ryan wanted to annul the adoption. I…just can't. I ask myself what we've done wrong to make him feel like that – that we would let him go like that." I admit. I can't think of what reasons the boy has to make us annul the adoption.
"I have no idea, but I guess that Ryan isn't stable enough yet, you understand? He still struggles to settle with us, although he tries to proof us different." My wife says. This might be it. He's still too shy around us. He still behaves like a guest from time to time. Well, maybe he doesn't know that nobody will take this away from him. How should he know? His family had been taken from him in a violent way. He never can be sure that something like that might not happen to us too, although I really doubt that. He's too afraid to lose us, as if he could be free enough to open up to us. His fears are blocking him.
My wife and I stay silent and wait. I hate waiting. I can't stand it. I notice that the doctors exceed the previously set time limit for this surgery. They had said two hours maximum, probably less. Now it is two and a half. I have a strange feeling in my guts. I don't want to go through the hell from the last six months again. I can't bear it once again. This had been too hard. But hell, we pay for a therapist and…pump our boy full with medication and nothing? There's no success? That can't be right. I mean Ryan can't be that resistant to any kind of psychological measure. There must be something that's able to help him. But what? I'm at my wits' end again. Once again I feel helpless towards the boy. We can't handle him. Or can we and just are blind? I have doubts that this is all linked to the birth if Soph. He'd been so eager to be able to take care of her. It's intimidating, realising how much in the know of how to take care of a baby he is. I have the feeling as if this should tell me something, but what? I have the feeling as if I missed something about him – something important.
"Do you think he'll ever forgive me for my behaviour?" My wife breaks the silence. Her glance wanders to the clock and back and again.
"We need to be patient with him once again. Maybe we've missed something about him, something that had gone on and we just haven't seen. I don't know, but I doubt your outburst is the only reason for this. Maybe it had pulled the trigger, but nothing more. You know, the straw that broke the camel's back."
"He isn't dumb. He probably recognised that something was wrong – is wrong – with Seth and you know he's always blaming himself for everything."
"Then we need to make clear to him that not everything is his fault. He needs to know that parents aren't almighty and make mistakes as well."
"And that he's not the reason for the mistakes and that we don't intend to hurt him or Seth or Soph." My wife says. Afterwards we again fall into silence. It takes an eternity for a doctor to come to us.
"Mr and Mrs Cohen?" Dr Conrad finally comes to us and relief spreads through my body. My wife and I get up.
"The surgery is done. I've been able to repair the damage, but unfortunately…the damage been done to his knee is irreversible. Ryan will have to accept the restrictions in his leg. I already explained you what this means. So…it's most important to help Ryan deal with this." He says. How to make a boy like Ryan deal with all the bad luck occurring in his life?
"But what took you so long?" I ask.
"Well…your son has had some kind of reaction to the anaesthesia. It seemed as if he suffers from some kind of intolerance. But nothing to worry about. He's stable now and I would recommend letting him stay this night, and tomorrow you can take him home. There's nothing we can do and…the burns on his back will heal fine and won't require any special medical treatment you can't provide at home either." He says.
"Excuse me if I ask this…but…we were planning to go on vacation on Friday. Will this be possible?" My wife asks the doctor. I'm flabbergasted that she has the nerve to ask this question. This is out of place right now. This here is about our son, and not about some vacation plans.
"I don't know…where do you plan to go?" The doctor asks us, quite astonished. He must feel like in a twilight zone after this question. No questions about the boy's health or after care, but vacation. My wife presents herself like the ideal Newpsie by misplacing her priorities that obvious.
"Föhr…an island at the German and Danish coast." I explain him.
"Oh…yeah…I have a good friend, he's working as a doctor there. I can send him the details and…your son will be able to receive the correct treatment in case of an emergency and you'll have a contact person. I think the salty air will do his health a lot good. It'll help him to recover and get rid of all germs still resting in his body." The doctor says. Well, I hadn't counted on this answer. Maybe we should also consider the journey? I mean this will strain him more than necessary, but the doctor would have said something then, as he knows about what distance we're talking about.
"What do you mean?" My wife asks.
"Usually after…accidents…with such an impact to the body like the one your son suffered from also have an undeniable impact on the immune system as well – weakening it. I'm sure your son has had several flu and colds and the air on the sea will help him to boost his immune system. I'm only afraid of the long journey, but I'll give you several prescriptions that should help him anyway so…you can…just don't overdo it. No swimming, no sand. That's all I can say. Just take care." The doctor says and then we're allowed to see our son. We're complaining about the hard times we have, especially regarding the boy and now my wife thinks we can handle such a trip with him in his current physical state? Is she nuts? She must have lost all of her common sense. Every parent would avoid everything that could put unnecessary strain on their kid after a surgery, but my wife? She seems to be seeking the risk and trouble. I turn off these thoughts when I cast a look over to the pale form in the bed in front of me. This sight makes my stomach sink and I'm reluctant to force him onto this trip. Not like this.