Ryan exits his room, softly shutting the door behind him so as not to wake any of the other members of his family at this early hour, and turns to walk down the hallway. He walks down the stairs and, stepping through the archway and into the kitchen, is greeted by the strangest sight he may every see. His foster brother, Seth, is holding a standard Christmas candy cane in one hand, a gold plated menorah in the other. Lindsey, his aunt, is sitting next to him at the island, a glass of milk in her hand. Ryan quickly pinches himself to make sure that he isn't dreaming. Sensing the pain in his arm, he joins Lindsey at the island.
"Hey," he offers in greeting. "Can't sleep?"
"Nope. You?" She continues to stare at a contemplative Seth.
"Taylor just left. She woke me up." Lindsey nods in response, still focused on Seth, who seems to be in almost a trance like state. "What is he doing," Ryan asks, pointing at the other boy.
"I have no idea. I came down here for a glass of milk a half hour ago and he was sitting here doing that. I tried to ask him what's going on but all I got were mumbles about Christmas and Hanukkah. Does he do drugs?"
"Not anymore. Or at least I didn't think so." Ryan waves his hand in front of his friend's eyes and almost falls off the stool when Seth sets the two objects down on the counter.
"I can't do it Ryan, I just can't do it." Seth slumps his shoulders and huffs out a breath.
Lindsey looks at Ryan with a questioning look in her eyes. Ryan shakes his head violently, trying to tell his aunt not to ask the unspoken question, but she ignores him. "Okay creepy foster kid, I'll bite. What can't you do?"
"I can't choose! On the one hand, we've got the Christian and Catholic mythology here," he says, holding up the candy cane. "Jesus' birthday, Santa and his reindeer, trees with ornaments, the whole nine yards. Over here," he sets down the striped candy and picks up the menorah, "you've got the Old Testament, Moses fighting for our people, eight days filled with gift giving, spinning dreidels, latkes, lighting the menorah, over a week of fun! It's just too much fun to have to choose. I shouldn't be the one to have to do it." He sets the menorah back down and lays his head on the counter.
"Wait, so why do you get to be the one to choose? I happen to like Christmas. A lot."
"I'm going to agree with Ryan here. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be here through the holidays and I like Christmas too. Plus, don't you have to be Jewish to celebrate Hanukkah," Lindsey asks.
"Of course you don't have to be Jewish to celebrate Chris-" Seth stops what he was saying, looking shocked. He holds his hands out to his sides, alternating between looking at each on and saying either Christmas or Hanukkah. He finally brings them together in a praying gesture. "Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Moses." He takes the candy cane and places it in the center candleholder of the menorah. Looking pleased with himself, he walks out the back door and back to the pool house. Lindsey and Ryan both follow his movements with twin confused expressions.
"Is he always like that," Lindsey asks her nephew.
"Yep," Ryan says, taking Lindsey's empty glass and washing it out in the sink. Finishing, he heads out of the kitchen.
"Wait! You're not going to explain it to me?" Ryan just stares at her. "Right. Good night."
Next Day
"Christmas…sucka?" Kirsten looks at her adopted son in confusion. "You want us to celebrate 'Christmassucka' instead of Christmas?"
Ryan laughs so hard he almost sprays his coffee out of his nose. Sandy joins him in chuckling.
Seth scowls at the two. "First of all, Mother version two, it's not 'Christmassucka'. It's Chrismukkah. You're far too WASPy to sound like you're in a blaxploitation film." This time, Sandy almost spills his coffee as he laughs. "Secondly, I don't WANT to replace Christmas. Think of it as…consolidating two major holidays into one über-holiday. I don't want you to take down your Christmas tree. I just think it would look even better with a Star of David on top." Kirsten folds her arms and glares at the newest addition to their family. Seth looks to Sandy for help. "Father version 1.5, a little assistance here?"
"Version 1.5," Sandy questions.
"Well, you're not really version two, since I never knew version one, so I'm compromising," Seth explains.
Sandy nods his head as if that explanation makes perfect sense.
"Sandy! You don't mean to tell me that you're following along with this? I've been listening to his whole explanation and I still have no idea what it is!" She looks over at Ryan, hoping for some backup from the more grounded of her two sons, only to see that he's grinning at Sandy. "Oh, not you too!" Ryan shrugs, still grinning.
"Well," Sandy says, drawing it out, "I have to admit sweetie, the holiday season has been a little 'Protestant-flavored' lately." Seth lets out a whoop and drags Ryan off to the garage to look through the holiday themed decorations. Sandy watches them walk out with a smile on his face. He turns back to his wife and sees that she doesn't share the same holiday sentiment. "Come on, Kirsten, why not let him have fun? You know we're not particularly religious, especially around this time of year, and it would do a lot to welcome him into the family."
Kirsten rolls her eyes and finally breaks into a smile. "Fine, but I want a complete layout of all holiday planned events around the house and what's going to change thanks to this new 'über-holiday' that Seth has planned." She stops as Lindsey enters the kitchen. "Hey sweetie. Coffee?"
Lindsey shakes her head. "No thanks. I don't drink that stuff. What's all this talk about changing holidays?"
"Ask Seth," both adults say simultaneously.
Lindsey shakes her head as she fills a glass with orange juice. "Ryan," she calls out, "what is the creepy foster kid doing to Christmas?" She heads in the direction of the garage.
"Speaking of your sister," Sandy starts, "are you ever going to tell me why we now have another female staying here?"
"Yes, but not right now. Just trust me when I say she couldn't stay with Dad anymore."
"Of course I trust you, Honey. I'm here when you're ready to talk." He kisses his wife on the cheek, grabs his briefcase and heads off to work.
The Newport Group
Caleb Nichol sits in his office, at his desk, quietly fuming. It has been over two weeks since he had lost his youngest daughter to his oldest and he was still upset at the fact that he had been taken, not only about Lindsey, but that he had been forced to purchase Julie Cooper's house. His lawyers had looked through the contract with a fine-tooth comb, but were unable to find a single loophole. Kirsten had done a fine job at writing it up. It's too bad she wasn't more unscrupulous with her morals or she would make a fine Chief Executive Officer for his company one day. As it was, he was lucky that she was keeping up her end of the bargain. He still hadn't heard anything for the authorities or, for that matter, Sandy Cohen so that must mean his oldest and youngest daughters were keeping everything under wraps. Speaking of his youngest, he was still unable to find a way to bring her back home. Everything he could come up with, from filing kidnapping charges to reporting a runaway, all involved the authorities and that was something he didn't want to deal with. No, that was something he couldn't deal with. "Jenny," he screams out the door, in the direction of his assistant's desk.
The poor, young brunette girl comes running into her boss' office, Blackberry to one ear, Bluetooth headset on the other, two phone calls being conducted simultaneously. She pauses both conversations and reflects on how she went from graduating at the top of her class at Stanford's business school to being Caleb Nichol's, well, bitch. She took the job, thinking that she spend, at the most, a few months tending to his needs and then be offered a position in junior management. Little did she know how wrong she was. She'd been his receptionist for the past two years and her MBA was going to waste. More than once she'd considered quitting and applying for another job. Anywhere. Apparently though, once you worked for The Newport Group you were considered black listed by almost every other company on the west coast. Most businesses figured that what she might have learned from Caleb Nichol was potentially hazardous to their business operations and refused to give her an opportunity, let alone a phone call back. So she stuck with the job and hoped that one day soon, the old bastard would croak and she'd get her long deserved promotion, or at least another job. "Yes, sir?"
"Where in the hell have you been? I wanted that land survey of the Balboa Heights hours ago. Where the hell is it?"
"It just came in the fax ten seconds ago, sir. I've got it right here." She hands the paper over to the older man, who studies it intensely for a few moments, then breaks out in a grin.
"Very good, very good. Jenny, pack up all of the documents regarding the Balboa Heights and have them delivered over to my house this evening. I'll be working from home for the next couple weeks." Jenny affords herself an internal smile as she thinks of her first holiday vacation since being hired on at The Newport Group. The smile disappears at Caleb's next words. "I'm going to need you here over the holidays since I'll be working on The Balboa Heights project the entire time. I want you to screen all of my calls and forward only the most important on to me at home." Caleb picks up his briefcase and, without so much as a 'Happy Holidays' to his long suffering secretary, he walks through the doorway of his office.
She lifts the Blackberry to her head and hears the dead line. Sighing, she reactivates the Bluetooth headset at her other ear, and hears the same thing. "I hate the holidays," she moans.
School
"Hey, babe."
Ryan sees his girlfriend at her locker, swapping the books she is carrying with ones needed for her next classes. He sneaks up behind her and kisses her in that soft spot on her collarbone that he knows will just drive her crazy. She does indeed moan a little before she pushes him back.
"Ryan," she hisses. "Stop that before you start something you can't finish." She smiles at him and kisses him on the lips. "We'll have time enough for that during Winter Break. Now look at what Lindsey and I made during Home Economics today," she says, reaching around behind herself and producing a small, red Santa hat.
Ryan looks confused. "It's a small Santa hat? Uhm, nice?"
Taylor softly smacks him on the shoulder. "It's a yarmulclaus! She told me all about Seth's 'über-holiday' that starts tomorrow night and I think it's an awesome idea. None of our parents are really big on religion anyway, and it would allow Seth to get a little involved in your holiday traditions as a family."
"You don't have to convince me," Ryan says, smiling. "I'm already sold on the whole theory. Seth is going to flip when he sees what you guys made."
"I hope so! So," she draws out, as she puts the red felt hat back in her locker, "what are we doing tonight? More sweaty fun?" She smiles mischievously at her boyfriend.
Ryan raises his eyebrows questioningly. "You want another round?" He looks around worriedly, but sees nobody paying any attention. "I figured that, after last night, you'd be so sore that you wouldn't want to go at it again for at least a few days," he says, lowering his voice to a whisper. "We had sex, like, five times Taylor!"
"I know," she says, winking. "Think we'll do better tonight? I'll bring the nurse outfit…" she whispers in his ear.
Ryan gives an involuntary shudder. "My place, midnight."
"Why do we always have to go to your place," Taylor pouts. "I'm scared your parents are going to walk in on us in one of the many unnatural positions we've attempted. Ooh ooh!" She starts to jump up and down. "Let's go to my place! I've got all my costumes there, my mom will probably be busy with Jimmy Cooper, and we can try out those furry little handcuffs I bought!"
"Taylor, stop," Ryan pleads, showing Taylor his discomfort with continuing the current topic of discussion by discretely pointing out his predicament. "We can talk about this later."
"What's wrong, Ryan? Am I making you a little…nervous?" Taylor bats her eyes innocently. She looks around, sees that the few people that were around are almost all gone, and unbuttons the top two buttons of her blouse, showing Ryan the red, lacy lingerie she is wearing. "Ryyyyannnn…" she softy sing-songs, "the panties maaaatch."
Somehow, Ryan plucks from his foggy mind the fact that he and Taylor both have a free period. "Car, now."
Therapist's office, after school
Marissa signs the clipboard reserved for her therapist's patients, opens the door, and walks into the waiting room. The sight that greets her is not a welcome one. In the armchair facing the door sits a smiling Oliver Trask. She sighs as she sits down in the couch furthest from her would-be stalker. "Oliver, so good to see you. Again."
"Hey Marissa. Good to see you again. I thought we were going to hang out last week?"
"Oh yeah, well, I totally forgot I had a Social Committee meeting that day. Sorry," she says, feigning disappointment.
"Well, I tried to call you to see what happened and the operator said the number was disconnected."
"I think that was my old number I must have given you, or something. I can't remember."
"So then I was just going to ask you about it when we were waiting for our appointments and you never showed up."
"Yeah, um, Wednesday just wasn't working for me. Luke, you know, my boyfriend? He has soccer games on Wednesday nights so I couldn't really make those appointments anymore. So," she says, pausing, "you changed your appointment dates so that you could hang out with me? How did you even find out when my appointments changed to?"
"You should have seen it, Marissa. You would have thought it was pretty imaginative. I just went up to the receptionist and used the cover story that I was your boyfriend. Worked like a charm." Oliver smiles at what he thinks is a clever move that will be appreciated by the object of his affection. "Why don't you give me your number real quick? We'll hang out over the holidays or something?"
Just then the door opens to Dr. Wallerstein's office and another young person exits. Saved by the bell, Marissa thinks. "Oh, I've got to go," she says motioning to the door. "Maybe next time." She walks into the office, shutting the door to the lounge behind her and drowning out Oliver's request for her to wait. Marissa sits in the very comfortable chair facing her therapist.
"Hello, Marissa," the older woman greets the teen. "How are you doing today? Anything new since last week?"
"Not really, just getting ready for the holidays. Actually, before we start, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course, sweetie. What's on your mind?" The woman sets the pad on her lap and focuses on her patient.
"I was actually wondering what you knew about that boy that's outside in the waiting room every time I come for an appointment. His name is Oliver Trask."
"Marissa, you know that I'm not allowed to talk to you about any of my other patients. That's a violation of doctor-patient confidentiality. However, that boy isn't one of my clients. I do share that lounge with two other doctors, but they are all good friends of mine and I've never heard them mention an Oliver before. Is everything okay, dear?"
"Yeah, everything's fine. I just was wondering if you knew anything about him, that's all." Marissa leans back in the chair and sighs.
"That's good to hear. Now, tell me all about what's been going on the past week and what you and your family have planned for the holidays."
Cohen Residence
"Good evening, Mrs. C," Summer says, walking into the kitchen and encountering Kirsten Cohen intensely reading a thick volume of some sort. "Studying for something?"
"Hey Summer," the blonde woman says in greeting. She holds the book up and Summer sees that it is a Jewish cookbook.
"Wow, Mrs. C. You doing a little light reading?"
Kirsten gives her son's girlfriend a smirk. "Very funny, young lady. I'm actually looking up recipes for Hanukkah, thinking I can convert some to 'Chrismukkah' recipes for dinner tomorrow. I figured that, if we're going to help Seth create this 'über-holiday' as he's calling it, we're all going to have to contribute. It is my job to create original culinary amalgamations, as Seth so succinctly put it. This is going to be called a 'latkake', which is part fruitcake, part latke."
Summer studies the ingredients list. "This sounds really difficult. I thought you weren't a very good cook?"
"Hey!" Kirsten glares at the younger girl, who refuses to back down and places her hands on her hips. Kirsten's gaze softens. "Okay, you're right. I'm not really that great of a cook. Luckily, the fruit will already be candied and I'm fairly certain that I can make potato pancakes, so I think I might be all right. What are you contributing to this new holiday?"
"Well, I've got Taylor and Lindsey's contribution here," she says, showing Kirsten the yarmulclaus the two girls created. "There's a whole box of them for tomorrow in my car. I came up with something too." Summer shows Kirsten the other item that she has hidden in her bag: a small palm frond with attached pinecone and berries. "I'm calling it a mistlepalm frond. Instead of kissing under the mistletoe, we now kiss underneath the mistlepalm. What do you think?"
Kirsten chuckles. "I love them both and I think Seth will too."
"Where is he at, anyway? I have to run these ideas by him."
"He's out in the pool house. I think his job at The Bait Shop is really taking it out of him. He came right home from work and took a nap." Kirsten looks worriedly at the small building with its blinds drawn at the edge of the pool.
"Come on, Mrs. C! He doesn't do anything but mop and pick up empty cups. It's, like, the easiest job in the world. I mean, I wouldn't do it, but it's, like, the perfect job for Seth."
"Well, I suppose it is nice that he is motivated enough to do something other than just school. I hope that it's not just about making money. He knows that we would give him whatever he needs, right?" She looks at Seth's girlfriend for confirmation.
"It's not that, trust me. He doesn't mind taking money from you two; it's just that he felt like he needed something of his own. Marissa, Taylor and I have Social Committee; Luke and Ryan have soccer. He just needed something that he could do. All of those whiny bands that he loves so much play there all the time, so I think getting paid is second to getting free tickets to the shows. I think you guys have made it more than clear that he's a part of the family, through the good AND the bad."
"Thanks, sweetie." Kirsten gives the girl a hug. "I'm glad you finally found a way into our family. I don't think you and Ryan would have ever worked out together because you're too much alike. You and Seth, however, are perfect for each other. Now go out there and wake him up. Tell him we'll be having dinner soon."
Summer walks out of the patio doors, in the direction of her boyfriend's bedroom. Approaching the doors, she looks through the crack in the blinds and sees the lights out inside. She quietly opens the door and sneaks inside, quickly closing it behind her. Seth is sprawled out on the mattress, resting peacefully. She had entered fully intending on waking her boyfriend up and showing him the Chrismukkah creations she had brought with her. However, upon seeing him sleeping so soundly after a long day at work, she reconsiders that idea. Summer sets her bag on the floor and, slipping her shoes off, quietly joins Seth on the bed, lays her head down on his chest, and snuggles into the crook of his arm. Seth unconsciously senses her presence and wraps her up with his arm. Summer drifts off, enveloped in her boyfriends embrace, wondering if times like these were what Chrismukkah was all about.
Nichol Mansion
"Caleb Nichol," the grey haired businessman says as he picks up the phone. He quickly recognizes the voice of his attorney, Jacob Graveson. "Jake! Tell me you've got good news, in regards to my daughter and the Balboa Heights project."
Well, I've got good news and bad news. I know that you always want the good news first, so I'll start with that. My sources tell me that The Balboa Land Trust is just about ready to give in to your demands. They initially balked at the asking price of 300 million, but I think that your son-in-law is just about ready to give up.
"I knew that tree hugging hippy was too stupid to figure out what was wrong with the Heights. Why my daughter married him, I have no idea. Speaking of, what do you have to tell me about my youngest? Obviously it's bad news, but is it really that bad?"
It's not good, Cal. Basically, you're out of options without involving the police, and I heartily object to that route. If you go to the cops and file a report, the chances of her telling them why she went to her sister's house in the first place are pretty good.
"What about Kirsten? Can't she be charged as an accomplice if Lindsey says that she knew about it?"
You'd be willing to allow your daughter to take a fall? I forgot how ruthless you really are, Cal.
"If I go down, I'm not going down alone. Kiki brought this upon herself when she decided she wanted to get involved in my affairs. Besides, I wasn't talking about the cops actually finding out. I just wanted to use it as blackmail to keep Lindsey from telling anyone about what happened."
Always the strategist, aren't you? It might work, but I wouldn't suggest it. If the police find out you coerced a minor into giving misleading information, you're in much deeper water than the pool you're already in. Unless you can figure out a way to get Lindsey out of the area before the authorities have a chance to talk to her, you're just going to have to count yourself lucky that she hasn't gone to talk to them already. I've got to run, Cal. I have another client waiting. We'll get together in a few days to iron out the details of the Balboa Heights sale. Happy Holidays.
"You too, Jake." Caleb hangs up the phone, wheels turning in his mind as he contemplates his attorney's last statement regarding his daughter. He picks the phone back up and dials a number, leaning back in his chair as he listens to it ring.
The Cooper Household
"Hey Dr. Roberts," Luke says as he walks into the Cooper house. "What's going on?"
"Oh, not much Luke. I'm just having dinner with Julie. Are you here to see Marissa?"
"Yes, sir. I thought maybe she might want to go out and get some dinner, but if you guys are eating I can just come back."
"Actually Marissa didn't join us for dinner tonight. She was complaining about a headache when she came back from her appointment with her therapist and went upstairs to take a nap. She hasn't been down since. Julie was about to go up to check on her," he motions over his shoulder to Julie, who is walking toward them.
"Hi, Mrs. Cooper." Luke gives the elder Cooper woman a hug, and is greeted with a kiss on the cheek.
"Hello, Luke. If I had known you were coming over, I would have made some extra food."
"I'll call next time, I promise." He looks up the stairs, in the direction of his girlfriend's room. "Is everything okay with Marissa?"
"I don't know. Like Neil said, she didn't come down for dinner. I was just getting ready to go see if she was hungry yet."
"Do you mind if I go check on her, Mrs. Cooper? I was busy at school today and I haven't seen her since yesterday."
"Of course, Luke. You know where her room is," Julie says, stepping aside to let the young boy pass.
"Thanks, Mrs. Cooper. Dr. Roberts, it was good seeing you again. You, me, and Seth have to get together again and do some more golfing. I hear Summer's game is improving, too. Maybe she can come along?"
"That sounds like a good idea. I'll have to set something up." He shakes Luke's hand and the boy moves up the stairs. Julie and Neil watch him go.
"Sometimes I wonder what that boy would be like if he didn't grow up around Sandy and Kirsten's boy, Ryan," Neil muses.
"He probably would have ended up like half of the other Newport kids: spoiled rotten and feeling like he's entitled to everything, just like Zach Stevens."
"How are the Stevens' doing? I don't imagine that the scandal has been good for his political career."
"Veronica, Kirsten, and I were at yogilates the other day when Taryn said that his father resigned his position in Congress. Apparently, all of the publicity and paparazzi was getting to them. I think she said that they were taking Zach out of school over the holidays and moving somewhere on the east coast."
"That's unfortunate," Neil says, rejoining Julie at the dinner table. "As much trouble as the Stevens' have caused this semester, it's too bad that they are going through this."
Upstairs
Luke knocks softly on Marissa's door and, upon receiving no answer, slowly cracks the door. He sees his girlfriend sitting on her bed, earbuds in her ears and book in her lap. He walks into her room and catches her attention. Marissa smiles when she sees Luke and takes out her earbuds. "Hey," she says softly.
"Hey babe," he says, smiling. "You don't look like you have a headache." He sits down next to her on the bed.
Marissa kisses him. "Yeah, I might have made that up. I just wanted a little alone time without my mom asking me questions about therapy and stuff." She leans her head down on Luke's shoulder.
"Everything going okay with that? How are your new days working out?"
"Not as good as I had hoped. That creepy kid, Oliver, followed me to my new days."
Luke's smile falls into a frown. "What's wrong with that kid? Can't he get a clue?"
"I guess not. He worries me a little, like he's a little unstable. Did any of your friends from Pacific find out anything about him?"
"Those guys said that they don't even know this kid, Oliver. They do remember some girl being stalked by this crazy guy about a year ago, but it didn't really get out much and the girl moved away. Are you sure that he goes to Pacific?"
"Pretty sure. He's never given me the impression that I know him from Harbor so I'm willing to believe that part of his story. I don't know what to do anymore. I've tried changing my days, giving him wrong phone numbers, hiding from him. Nothing seems to work. He's making me not want to see my therapist anymore."
"Have you thought about talking to her, or your mom, about it? Maybe they would be able to do something?"
"No, I think I can handle this on my own. I just need to talk to him and tell him to leave me alone. Maybe he'll listen to reason."
"You sure babe? If you want, I can be there so he doesn't try anything funny."
"Thanks," she says, shifting to lie down in Luke's lap. "I promise that I'll be careful. I just wish he'd go away on his own, though."
"I know, babe. So are you feeling up to going over to the Cohens' place for this Chrismukkah thing tomorrow night?"
"Yeah, I'll be okay. I think Seth's excitement for it is contagious. I'm kind of excited myself to come over to see what it's all about. You want to stay here with me tonight," Marissa asks, looking up into Luke's eyes. "You could go home in the afternoon and get ready while I'm getting dressed."
"I don't know, Riss. My folks might not think too highly of me staying the night at my girlfriend's house."
"Please, Luke? I could really use the company after the day I had today."
Luke breaks down as he sees the look in his girlfriend's eyes. "You know that I can't say no to you. Let me call my folks and Cohen. I'll tell them I'm staying at his place tonight."
Luke makes the required phone calls, his parents having no problem with him staying at Ryan's, and Ryan having no problem covering for him. The two teens sit for awhile, just enjoying each others company, Marissa still lying in Luke's lap, his arms sitting protectively on her hip and shoulder. Eventually, they shift so that both teens are lying down on the bed, Marissa in Luke's arms. They both drift off that way, neither having the energy to get under the covers. Marissa lets out a sigh; her last conscious thought before sleep takes her is that, despite everything her family has been through in the past six months, she is thankful for everything she has this 'Chrismukkah' season.
Downstairs
"No problem Carson. We'll keep an eye on them. I'm sure they're not up to anything. Of course I'll let you know. Will we see you tomorrow at the Cohen's for dinner? Oh, well that's too bad. Have a good night, Carson. Good bye." Julie hangs the cordless phone back up on the wall and turns to face Neil. "It didn't take Carson long to figure out that Luke was here and not at the Cohen's, where he said he'd be."
"Should we go get Luke? Tell him to go back home?"
Julie looks up at the stairs. "No, I think they'll be okay. Marissa looked like she had some things on her mind and because I'm her mother that automatically disqualifies me from being someone to talk to. We'll let them sleep. They won't do anything inappropriate with us here in the house. Now," she says, taking Neil's hand in hers and leading him over to the couch, "let's uncork this bottle of wine and get back to our movie."
Cohen Household, Ryan's room
"So what did Luke want," Taylor asks as her boyfriend rejoins her on his bed. She lowers her head back onto his chest and Ryan begins to stroke her hair.
"He wanted me to cover for him with his dad. Apparently, he's sleeping over at Marissa's house but he didn't want to tell his dad that."
"How are you going to cover for him? If Carson were going to check up on Luke, wouldn't he call the house phone?"
"Carson won't call. He probably already knows Luke isn't here. I'm sure he's calling Marissa's house right now. He's a pretty smart guy."
"He does seem pretty intuitive. So," Taylor says as she reaches over to turn off the lamp on Ryan's bedside table, "are you ready to start the movie back up?"
"How did we go from planning a night of crazy sex at your house to watching The Notebook for probably the tenth time?"
"Well, after we went at it on our free period, you said your back was sore and I have to admit my legs were a bit exhausted too, especially after the marathon sex we had last night. So I asked you if you wanted to watch a movie instead and you agreed but you don't like my couches so you said we should watch it here but when we got here, your parents were watching TV-" She is silenced by Ryan's finger over her lips.
"My fault for asking. I guess it was more of a rhetorical question anyway." He picks up the remote and resumes one of Taylor's (and, secretly, one of his) favorite movies.
Later, Living Room
Sandy turns off the television as the movie ends and joins his wife in standing. "Good movie, sweetheart. I love The Notebook."
Kirsten smiles at her husband. "No you don't, but I love that you watch it with me every time that I want to, even when you'd rather watch something else." She kisses him on the cheek. "You want to go check on Seth and Summer and I'll go check on Ryan and Taylor?"
"Sure. I'll see you up at the room in a minute."
Kirsten slowly ascends the stairs, habitually avoiding the one in the middle that she knows lets out the most ear-piercing squeal. She makes it to the top without setting off the touchy board and reaches her son's room. She softly opens the door and the sight that greets her makes her smile. Taylor is curled up in Ryan's arms, snoring softly. Ryan has one arm curled around her shoulders, the other resting comfortably behind his head. The movie she and her husband had just finished is scrolling through the credits on Ryan's television. To her relief, both teens are fully clothed. She walks into the room and, grabbing a spare blanket from Ryan's closet, covers him and the girl that she has thought of as a daughter for many years. She turns off the television and walks to the door, only to be stopped by her son's voice.
"Mom," he whispers questioningly.
"Yeah sweetie?"
"Good night. I love you."
Kirsten's eyes tear up a little. "I love you too, sweetie. Sleep good." She shuts the door as she makes her exit, pausing once outside the room to wipe the tear from her eye. She looks up to see Sandy leaning against the wall watching her. "How much of that did you hear?"
"Enough," he says, placing his hand around her waist and leading her to their bedroom. "You know, it's not going to be much longer before he's too old for you to call him sweetie," he teases.
"I know," she says, sighing. "Even the thought of Seth moving off to college in a couple years makes me emotional, and he's only been a part of the family for six months. I can still remember the days when Ryan thought Marissa, Summer, and Taylor were 'gross' and he didn't want to have anything to do with them. Now, he's got Taylor in his bed, sleeping. He's always going to be my little boy, Sandy." She pulls the covers back and lies down in bed.
"I know. He's always going to be my little guy, too." He joins her in their bed and scoots over so that her back is against his chest. She relaxes back against him, and the two quickly fall asleep, still as much in love as the day they married.
Next Day
"Morning!"
Kirsten walks into the kitchen, currently occupied by her sons, her sons' girlfriends, and her youngest sister.
"Morning," they all repeat in unison.
"Wow, that wasn't strange at all," Lindsey says around a bite of bagel.
"That's just the first of many Chrismukkah miracles, everyone," Seth observes.
Ryan is confused. "How is us saying the same thing a 'miracle'?"
"That just seems like a coincidence to me," Taylor adds.
"Philistines, all of you. You will all be converts to my great holiday when all is said and done."
"You're starting to make this holiday sound like a cult, Seth," his girlfriend says.
"Ryan, back me up man. Even my girlfriend is doubting the joy of Chrismukkah."
Ryan gives a look that says he kind of agrees with her, and then gives him a little sympathetic shrug of the shoulders.
"Aww, it's okay sweetie." Kirsten pats him on the shoulder. "You've got one convert already. I'm already starting to feel the Chrismukkah buzz and, after the Chrismukkah kick-off dinner tonight, I'm sure everyone else will too."
"Speaking of," Summer interrupts, "I've actually got to go home and set my things out for the dinner. Taylor, are you coming over tonight so we can do our hair?"
"Yeah, I'll see you there around three." Taylor looks over and sees Lindsey focusing on the pattern on the kitchen island. She decides to take action. "Lindsey, do you want to come over too?"
Lindsey looks up at the mention of her name. "Uhm, sure. As long as it's okay with Summer." She gives a hopeful look to the short brunette.
"Of course it's okay. I didn't even think to invite you, I'm so sorry! Taylor and Marissa and I usually get together to do our hair before we go to any parties."
"Thanks Summer. And Taylor," the redhead amends.
Taylor looks over at her boyfriend, who mouths a 'thank you' her way. She blows an air kiss at him in response. Kirsten witnesses this exchange and smiles at the two high school sweethearts.
Cooper House
Luke tiptoes down the stairs, looking in both directions when he reaches their base. Seeing nobody, he continues on towards the front door and nearly makes it out when a voice calls his name.
"Luke!" Julie Cooper is sitting in what was formerly her ex-husband's office, looking expectantly at her daughter's boyfriend. "Why don't you come in and sit down?"
"Oh, hey Mrs. Cooper," Luke says nervously, fidgeting a little. "You know, I really need to get home and get ready for Chrismukkah dinner at the Cohens' place. And I'm sure my dad is worrying about me too."
"You have plenty of time to get ready for dinner tonight and your father already knows where you are."
"He does?" Luke walks into the study and joins Julie in sitting in a chair.
"Yes. He called last night, asking if you were here. Apparently, you said you were going to Ryan's?" Luke begins to protest, but Julie stops him by holding up a finger. "Don't worry, Ryan didn't tell your father anything, he already knew you weren't there. He wasn't upset, but he may have some words for you about knowing where you are going to be. That's not why I want to talk to you though."
"What's it about then," Luke asks, looking relieved that the woman isn't going to chastise him for spending the night.
"I know that something was bothering Marissa last night, and I know it had something to do with her time at therapy. I just want to make sure that she's okay and that it's not something too serious."
"Uh-" Luke begins, only to be interrupted by Julie.
"I'm not going to tell her that you talked to me. I just want to know that the therapy is helping, not hindering, her progress."
Luke thinks for a moment. "She's doing good," he finally answers. "Another patient there is kinda bothering her a little, but she's a big girl and she can handle it. She likes it a lot, because she says that she can talk to her therapist about stuff that she can't talk to you, or me, or Ryan about."
"That's good, although this 'other patient' bothers me a bit." Julie chews her lip worriedly for a moment.
"You promised you wouldn't intervene, remember?"
"I did no such thing, but I'll stay out of her business. You're right, she is a big girl now. Sometimes it's hard for me to remember that. Now go on," she says, waving her daughter's boyfriend away. "Go get ready for that dinner. Neil, Marissa and I will see you there."
Cohen residence, later that night
"Dear Moses, I am so full," Seth exclaims, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his belly.
"Aww, my baby needs a post-dinner nap," Summer says, joining Seth in rubbing his stomach.
"You think you're joking, but I just might do that," Seth deadpans.
"Did anyone else like the meal?" Kirsten looks nervously around the table.
"Well, it was interesting, Kiki. I thought the odd-tasting pancakes with the candied fruit were…inventive," Julie offers.
"According to Seth, they're called 'latkakes' and the reason they taste different is because they're made from potatoes."
"I thought everything was delicious Keeks," Taylor says, a bit too enthusiastically.
"Thank you Taylor. Anyone else?"
Her son and husband are the next to offer token words of praise. "It was great, Mom." "Delicious, Honey."
"Oh, shut up you two. Next year it's Thai take-out," she says with a smile.
Everyone begins to clean up their plates and clear the table. The doorbell rings and Kirsten goes to answer it.
"Dad," she says in surprise as she opens the door. "We just finished dinner. You'll have to come back later." She goes to close the door, but her father stops its progress.
"Just a moment, Kiki. You can return to your party momentarily, but first I'm here to retrieve Lindsey." Caleb walks into the house, ignoring his eldest daughter's stunned face.
"I don't think so, Dad. Not after what you did to her. She's going to be staying with us until I figure out a more permanent solution."
"I don't think I can allow that any more. As my daughter, she belongs with me."
"Kirsten, is everything okay," Lindsey asks as she walks into the foyer. "Dad? What are you doing here?"
"I've come to collect you, Lindsey. You see, I'm enrolling you in the prestigious Aiglon College in Switzerland. You'll be leaving tonight so I'll need you to go upstairs and grab your bags." Lindsey stays rooted to the spot in pure shock. "NOW," Caleb says sternly, at which point Lindsey runs upstairs.
"Switzerland, Dad? You're not going to get away with this, you know that right?"
"Of course I will, Kiki. You can't tell anyone that you knew about what was going on, or you'll be charged as an accomplice for not reporting it right away."
"Sandy will do something."
"Sanford?" Caleb snorts in amusement. "Your hippy husband couldn't argue his way out of a cardboard box. Even if he did know a way to get around your little screw up, I'd think that he would be pretty upset at you for not telling him what was going on, wouldn't you? Do you think your relationship can survive something like that?" Kirsten bites her lip. "I didn't think so. Lindsey," he says, seeing his youngest approaching with her suitcase, "you're back. Go ahead and say good-bye to your sister. It's going to be awhile before you see her again."
"Kirsten," Lindsey says, looking questioningly up at her sister with tears in her eyes, "isn't there anything you can do?"
"I'm so sorry, sweetie." She leans over and hugs her sister, tears running down her cheeks. "I screwed up and there's nothing I can do to fix it."
"It's okay. Will you tell everyone that I said good-bye?"
"I will. Be good, okay? Write me."
Caleb pushes Lindsey out the door, turning before he crosses the threshold himself. "Happy holidays, Kiki."
"Screw you, Dad," Kirsten says, slamming the door in his face.
Nichol Mansion
"You've got five minutes to pack a bag," Caleb says as Lindsey exits the limo.
She walks into the front door and runs, crying, up to her room. She quickly packs a bag, not wanting to incur her father's wrath, and heads back down to the front door. Before she can open it, a box marked 'Balboa Heights Sensitive'on the floor catches her attention. Remembering that her father was currently locked in a battle with Sandy Cohen over the Heights, she opens the box. Spotting the land appraisal at the top of the stack and noticing the extreme difference between the value of the land and what Mr. Cohen was paying her father for it, she decides that maybe she would pay her father back for all of the crap she'd been put through for the past few months. She quickly folds the sheet and places it in her pocket. Closing the box, she returns it to its spot on the floor and says good-bye to her home for the foreseeable future.
Airport
"Bye, Daddy."
Caleb doesn't look up from his notes or put his call on hold to say good-bye to his daughter. Instead, he lifts his hand and waves once. He then goes back to scribbling furiously on the pad sitting in his lap. Lindsey wipes a final tear from her eye and steps out of the limo. Grabbing her one bag, she walks into the airport to check in, followed by her father's bodyguard, presumably to make sure that she doesn't make a scene. Once she gets through check-in and ditches the bodyguard, she heads to the first shop she sees and walks up to the register.
"Excuse me? I'm going to need a stamp and an envelope, please."
A/N: Wow, has it really been almost a month since I've updated this story? I'm sorry for the wait, I really am. I've been suffering from a severe case of writer's block and I had to drag this chapter out, kicking and screaming. I actually lost it once, although I was lucky enough that my dad has a back-up drive (yes!) so I didn't really lose it. For those that don't back their stuff up, I would suggest emailing yourself a copy of your chapters periodically, or use floppy disks. Just a suggestion. Random fact of the chapter: The question, when was the first boarding school founded, is a difficult one to answer. The practice of fostering children with other families so they could learn is of very long standing, with records going back thousands of years. The school that can probably claim to be the oldest boarding school in continual operation is Winchester College founded by Bishop William of Wykeham in 1382. Enjoy and I promise that my next chapter won't be so long in coming! AZ