"Brother's Keeper" chapter 3
This is the last part of my mini-story about Trey. We'll see how he's portrayed tonight, eh?
**********
Lying in bed wishing he were dead, Ryan watched the block of sunlight from the window slowly inching across the floor. He wondered what time it was and considered looking at his bedside clock but that would entail turning his head, not a move he was prepared to make. He slowly closed his eyes and opened them again as far as possible in their puffy sockets. It's not like he'd never had a black eye before, but never two at once. He hoped his whole face wasn't as badly swollen as it felt.
A shadow passed over his patch of sunshine then a quiet knock at the door broke the silence. He debated not answering, pretending to be asleep for a while longer, but the decision was moot when Seth, bearing a tray, barged through the door. Their eyes met and it was too late to play 'possum.
"God! You should see yourself!" Seth started in, setting the tray on the table. "I wish I'd been here. Not that I would've been any help whatsoever, but maybe two of us would've made the guy think twice before.... You know, he had to be watching you, because he saw that the house wasn't locked and followed you in, right? So, I'm wondering why the guy didn't just wait until you'd gone back outside. I mean, that's pretty bold to rob a place when someone's home. And god, how creepy is it to know some stranger was in our house, touching our things. Freaks me right out." He gave a little melodramatic shiver.
Ryan made an assenting noise.
"You hungry? Thirsty? We've got chicken soup ... good for all illness and injuries large and small, a sandwich ... but you don't look ready to chew anything, and some nice, cold juice ... cranapple." Seth held up a glass with a flourish.
"Yeah," Ryan croaked.
Interpreting correctly, Seth inserted a straw into the juice glass, crouched down and awkwardly managed to serve it to the invalid without spilling.
"Thanks," Ryan pulled back and Seth replaced the glass on the tray.
"Man, you really do look like hell," he reiterated. "Does it hurt much?"
Ryan shot him a look, but with all the bruising and swelling he didn't know if he'd got the point across.
"Of course it does," Seth answered himself, having the grace to sound embarrassed. He paused a moment then said with uncharacteristic sincerity, "I'm glad you're all right. Coulda been a lot worse. The guy could've had a gun."
Remaining silent, Ryan looked back at his square of sunlight and noticed it had moved another inch closer to the table.
"And that's another thing that bugs me," Seth was off again. "Don't burglars always carry guns? The whole thing seems kinda off."
Ryan stared grimly at the floor. Obviously from the conversation last night, Sandy already knew he was a liar but it seemed he hadn't said anything to the rest of the family. This was only going to get worse. He knew Seth would pry the truth out of him sooner or later. Ryan had always been incapable of delivering a lie with any authority at all.
"I mean, the fact that you didn't hear...." Blessedly, Seth was interrupted by another knock at the door. It opened slowly and Marissa was silhouetted against the bright sunshine.
"Hi," she practically whispered, poised tentatively on the threshold. "Kristen said it would be okay if I...." She moved into the room and closed the door behind her, eyes growing steadily larger as she saw the extent of Ryan's injuries. "Oh my god!"
"That bad, huh?" he asked.
"You're really lucky your nose isn't broken," Seth said encouragingly. He gave up his perch at the edge of the bed, making room for Marissa to fuss and hover over her damaged new boyfriend.
"Your poor head," she moaned, lightly touching the bandage on his forehead and feathering her fingertips down the sides of his face. "Thank god, you're all right."
Ryan looked up into her open, caring, loving face and wished his jaw had been broken and then wired shut so he wouldn't have to tell any more lies.
"I hope they catch this guy and lock him up forever. Someone who would do this is no better than an animal!" Marissa was so furious it was kind of scary, like seeing Bambi go ballistic and attack the hunters.
"Look, there's some soup and juice here if you want to play Florence Nightengale ... or Naughty Nurse Nancy," Seth told Marissa, "Anyway, I'll leave you guys alone." He started to leave then turned back. "Oh, also his painkillers are on the table if he needs them, but Marissa." he wagged an admonishing finger, "no sampling."
"Shut up!" She cried and threw the extra pillow at him.
Seth dodged it, then gave them a formal bow, palms together, "Sayonara!"
After Seth left, Marissa resumed fluttering, smoothing back Ryan's hair and offering soup. He struggled to sit up and she was right there tucking pillows behind his back and rearranging the covers.
Ryan sat for a moment, head pounding and spinning.
"Can I get you anything different to drink?" she asked. "I mean, cranapple - yuck!"
Ryan hesitated, embarrassed. "Actually, I kind of need to." he gestured toward the bathroom, "if you could help me stand up." He wished he'd thought to ask Seth before he left.
"Of course," she said. Marissa helped him rise to his feet and supported him to the tiny bathroom then paused uncertainly at the door. "Are you going to be okay in there? You might faint or something."
"I'm good," he assured, bracing himself on the wall with one hand and closing the door with the other. He peed, took a look in the mirror over the sink and realized that he'd been stupid to worry about having bed head in front of Marissa since his face looked like it had been run over by a truck. He felt a warm glow inside when he realized she didn't seem to mind his bedraggled appearance.
When he was finished in the bathroom and settled back in bed again, Marissa insisted he try some soup before it got any colder. He obediently sucked down lukewarm broth and bits of noodle through the straw she held to his lips.
"Thanks," he said when he'd reached the dregs.
"Feel better?" she asked.
He nodded.
She offered him the sandwich, too, but he declined. Then she shook out a pair of caplets from the bottle and he gratefully took them. He lay back down and waited for them to kick in, while Marissa removed her shoes and stretched out beside him.
"I wonder if they'll catch him," she mused, stroking his hair again, rubbing his shoulder, then leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "It's scary to know this creep is still running around out there."
"Mm," he replied then closed his eyes and pretended to be falling asleep, which turned into the truth as he lay there listening to the quiet afternoon.
"Did you bring your Sociology book home?" she asked, quietly. "I have some reading I should catch up on." He didn't answer and felt her weight shift away from him, as she went to check. In a moment or an hour, it was hard to tell which as his mind drifted on relaxing waves, she returned and settled next to him. He reached out until he felt her warm thigh under his hand then tethered himself to it as his head continued to float away.
********
Later in the day, showered, dressed and sitting at the dinner table with the Cohens, Ryan felt better and worse than he had earlier. Physically he was less achy. Kirsten had removed the bandage on his forehead, revealing a lovely set of stitches and he was able to breath better so the swelling around his nose must have gone down. Mentally he was jumpier than a cockroach on a griddle. Although none of the Cohens had asked any more questions, he had reached the point where he was completely unable to make eye contact with any of them.
"Yes, it's a new-fangled thing called a 'plasma TV'," Seth laid on the sarcasm. "You might've heard of it. Come on, mom, step into the future. As long as we have to replace, let's get the best!"
"I said, we'll discuss it later," Sandy cut firmly across his babble. "Drop it, Seth."
"I'm calling the security company on Monday," Kirsten continued her own train of thought. "I just want them to check everything over...."
The doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Sandy grumped, tossing his napkin down and heading for the door.
"At least tell me you'll upgrade my computer," Seth complained. "I had the old one for almost three years. Three years! Do you know what that is in computer life? Probably something like sixty-five! Retirement age. I need a...." he trailed off as Sandy reappeared with the same policeman who had questioned Ryan the previous night.
"Seth, could you go to your room?" Sandy ordered quietly.
Seth opened his mouth to argue, caught his father's look, and nodded, rising from the table. Before leaving the room, he cast a quick glance at Ryan, who stared doggedly down at his plate.
"Officer Wendt has new information for us," Sandy told Kirsten. He directed the cop to a chair and then resumed his own seat.
"A patrolman tried to pull over a van for speeding and got involved in a high speed chase that ended when the vehicle went off the road into a ditch. The driver and passenger were both arrested and the van searched. It was full of presumably stolen TVs, stereos, computers, jewelry ... basically all the things you listed as missing," he said succinctly.
"That's great!" Kirsten enthused. Sandy remained silent and Ryan's heart pounded so hard he could barely hear the cop's next words.
"Yes. Unfortunately we've got a little snag," he continued. "The suspects were booked and eventually the connection to my case was made and the information passed on to me. The passenger had a familiar last name ... Atwood." The officer let that hang in the air and Ryan could actually feel all the adults' eyes turn toward him, although he steadfastly refused to lift his own from watching his fork make patterns in his mashed potatoes.
"Terence Allen Atwood," the cop added. "Any relation, son?" he asked Ryan almost kindly.
Ryan's jaw tightened and he nodded once.
"You want to alter the details of your statement?" the investigator pressed.
Ryan opened his mouth but couldn't make a sound so he closed it again and swallowed hard.
Sandy intercepted. "Are you arresting him," he asked the cop smoothly. "If not, I'd like a chance to speak with Ryan privately and we'll bring him down to the station in the morning to answer your questions. Is that acceptable?"
The man hesitated then nodded. He stood and Sandy saw him to the door. The seconds ticked by and Ryan was very aware of Kirsten still watching him.
"Your brother?" she asked. He nodded again, biting down on his lower lip to stop it trembling.
"I'm sorry," he finally whispered no louder than a puff of air.
"I know," she answered quietly.
Sandy returned and lounged in the doorway for a moment, regarding him. "You wanna tell us what happened?"
"I." Ryan cleared his throat and tried again. "Trey showed up, said he'd been released cause of overcrowding, and asked for some money. I gave him what I had and then got him something to eat. I didn't think he'd.. I'm sorry."
"Why didn't you just tell us in the first place?" Sandy asked. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."
Ryan frowned. "Yes I did. I brought him into your house. Should've known better. Besides." he hesitated. "I couldn't . couldn't tell. He's a huge asshole, but he's my brother."
"I have a sister like that," Kirsten unexpectedly replied. Ryan shot a surprised look at her and saw she was smiling ruefully. "I spent half my life covering for her about one thing or another." She nodded at him, "Believe me, I understand. But, Ryan, eventually you've got to cut loose and stop enabling."
"Especially when you're breaking the law," Sandy put in.
"Am I, like, in trouble for aiding and abetting or something?" Ryan asked nervously.
"More like impeding an investigation, but I wouldn't worry too much."
"So." Drymouthed, Ryan asked the question that had been filling his mind since the beginning, "Am I going to . I mean, is it still cool for me to stay here?"
"What? Of course!" Kirsten exclaimed. "Is that's what's been bothering you?"
"Well, I kinda thought when you found out.." Ryan shrugged and let the thought hang.
"Oh, sweetie, no," she said, covering his hand resting on the table with her own. "No. You don't have to go anywhere."
"Listen," Sandy moved into the room and stood above Ryan fixing him with the Serious Eyes. "When we agreed to take you in, we did more than assume legal custody. I thought you understood that. You're not just hanging in our pool house on a whim. When Kirsten told you before that you're part of the family now, she spoke for all of us. And to us, family is forever - even if you're an old rat-bastard like Caleb."
Kirsten shot him a glare then continued her own convincing. "Ryan, let's face it, we don't know you very well yet and you don't know us either, but we're getting there. We think you're a wonderful person and we.choose to have you here." She paused and added, "Just try to trust us, okay? Be a little more open?" She looked at him searchingly, gave his hand a final pat and withdrew her own.
Ryan nodded dumbly, way too choked up to dare speak.
"You look all worn out," Kirsten said, rising from her seat. "Why don't you go back to bed? I'll be out in a little while to check on you, okay?"
"'Kay," he managed.
"And I'll go intercept Seth before he comes out there and grills you," Sandy added. Catching Ryan's look of distress, he said, "Don't worry. He won't be pissed at you about lying. Seth's physically incapable of carrying a grudge." He squeezed Ryan's shoulder as he passed. "About the cops. Don't worry about that either. I'll make it okay."
The thought ran through Ryan's head that it was nice to have a lawyer for a father-figure.
As Ryan headed toward his room, or could a pool house be considered a 'suite'?, he felt light and buoyant. There was still Marissa to face and Seth would undoubtedly have plenty to say but at least the worst was over and he still had a home.
He glanced back over his shoulder at the well-lit house. Kirsten was moving past the window and he saw Seth come bounding into the same room, talking, with Sandy right behind him, also talking. He smiled. A home - with family.
The End
This is the last part of my mini-story about Trey. We'll see how he's portrayed tonight, eh?
**********
Lying in bed wishing he were dead, Ryan watched the block of sunlight from the window slowly inching across the floor. He wondered what time it was and considered looking at his bedside clock but that would entail turning his head, not a move he was prepared to make. He slowly closed his eyes and opened them again as far as possible in their puffy sockets. It's not like he'd never had a black eye before, but never two at once. He hoped his whole face wasn't as badly swollen as it felt.
A shadow passed over his patch of sunshine then a quiet knock at the door broke the silence. He debated not answering, pretending to be asleep for a while longer, but the decision was moot when Seth, bearing a tray, barged through the door. Their eyes met and it was too late to play 'possum.
"God! You should see yourself!" Seth started in, setting the tray on the table. "I wish I'd been here. Not that I would've been any help whatsoever, but maybe two of us would've made the guy think twice before.... You know, he had to be watching you, because he saw that the house wasn't locked and followed you in, right? So, I'm wondering why the guy didn't just wait until you'd gone back outside. I mean, that's pretty bold to rob a place when someone's home. And god, how creepy is it to know some stranger was in our house, touching our things. Freaks me right out." He gave a little melodramatic shiver.
Ryan made an assenting noise.
"You hungry? Thirsty? We've got chicken soup ... good for all illness and injuries large and small, a sandwich ... but you don't look ready to chew anything, and some nice, cold juice ... cranapple." Seth held up a glass with a flourish.
"Yeah," Ryan croaked.
Interpreting correctly, Seth inserted a straw into the juice glass, crouched down and awkwardly managed to serve it to the invalid without spilling.
"Thanks," Ryan pulled back and Seth replaced the glass on the tray.
"Man, you really do look like hell," he reiterated. "Does it hurt much?"
Ryan shot him a look, but with all the bruising and swelling he didn't know if he'd got the point across.
"Of course it does," Seth answered himself, having the grace to sound embarrassed. He paused a moment then said with uncharacteristic sincerity, "I'm glad you're all right. Coulda been a lot worse. The guy could've had a gun."
Remaining silent, Ryan looked back at his square of sunlight and noticed it had moved another inch closer to the table.
"And that's another thing that bugs me," Seth was off again. "Don't burglars always carry guns? The whole thing seems kinda off."
Ryan stared grimly at the floor. Obviously from the conversation last night, Sandy already knew he was a liar but it seemed he hadn't said anything to the rest of the family. This was only going to get worse. He knew Seth would pry the truth out of him sooner or later. Ryan had always been incapable of delivering a lie with any authority at all.
"I mean, the fact that you didn't hear...." Blessedly, Seth was interrupted by another knock at the door. It opened slowly and Marissa was silhouetted against the bright sunshine.
"Hi," she practically whispered, poised tentatively on the threshold. "Kristen said it would be okay if I...." She moved into the room and closed the door behind her, eyes growing steadily larger as she saw the extent of Ryan's injuries. "Oh my god!"
"That bad, huh?" he asked.
"You're really lucky your nose isn't broken," Seth said encouragingly. He gave up his perch at the edge of the bed, making room for Marissa to fuss and hover over her damaged new boyfriend.
"Your poor head," she moaned, lightly touching the bandage on his forehead and feathering her fingertips down the sides of his face. "Thank god, you're all right."
Ryan looked up into her open, caring, loving face and wished his jaw had been broken and then wired shut so he wouldn't have to tell any more lies.
"I hope they catch this guy and lock him up forever. Someone who would do this is no better than an animal!" Marissa was so furious it was kind of scary, like seeing Bambi go ballistic and attack the hunters.
"Look, there's some soup and juice here if you want to play Florence Nightengale ... or Naughty Nurse Nancy," Seth told Marissa, "Anyway, I'll leave you guys alone." He started to leave then turned back. "Oh, also his painkillers are on the table if he needs them, but Marissa." he wagged an admonishing finger, "no sampling."
"Shut up!" She cried and threw the extra pillow at him.
Seth dodged it, then gave them a formal bow, palms together, "Sayonara!"
After Seth left, Marissa resumed fluttering, smoothing back Ryan's hair and offering soup. He struggled to sit up and she was right there tucking pillows behind his back and rearranging the covers.
Ryan sat for a moment, head pounding and spinning.
"Can I get you anything different to drink?" she asked. "I mean, cranapple - yuck!"
Ryan hesitated, embarrassed. "Actually, I kind of need to." he gestured toward the bathroom, "if you could help me stand up." He wished he'd thought to ask Seth before he left.
"Of course," she said. Marissa helped him rise to his feet and supported him to the tiny bathroom then paused uncertainly at the door. "Are you going to be okay in there? You might faint or something."
"I'm good," he assured, bracing himself on the wall with one hand and closing the door with the other. He peed, took a look in the mirror over the sink and realized that he'd been stupid to worry about having bed head in front of Marissa since his face looked like it had been run over by a truck. He felt a warm glow inside when he realized she didn't seem to mind his bedraggled appearance.
When he was finished in the bathroom and settled back in bed again, Marissa insisted he try some soup before it got any colder. He obediently sucked down lukewarm broth and bits of noodle through the straw she held to his lips.
"Thanks," he said when he'd reached the dregs.
"Feel better?" she asked.
He nodded.
She offered him the sandwich, too, but he declined. Then she shook out a pair of caplets from the bottle and he gratefully took them. He lay back down and waited for them to kick in, while Marissa removed her shoes and stretched out beside him.
"I wonder if they'll catch him," she mused, stroking his hair again, rubbing his shoulder, then leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "It's scary to know this creep is still running around out there."
"Mm," he replied then closed his eyes and pretended to be falling asleep, which turned into the truth as he lay there listening to the quiet afternoon.
"Did you bring your Sociology book home?" she asked, quietly. "I have some reading I should catch up on." He didn't answer and felt her weight shift away from him, as she went to check. In a moment or an hour, it was hard to tell which as his mind drifted on relaxing waves, she returned and settled next to him. He reached out until he felt her warm thigh under his hand then tethered himself to it as his head continued to float away.
********
Later in the day, showered, dressed and sitting at the dinner table with the Cohens, Ryan felt better and worse than he had earlier. Physically he was less achy. Kirsten had removed the bandage on his forehead, revealing a lovely set of stitches and he was able to breath better so the swelling around his nose must have gone down. Mentally he was jumpier than a cockroach on a griddle. Although none of the Cohens had asked any more questions, he had reached the point where he was completely unable to make eye contact with any of them.
"Yes, it's a new-fangled thing called a 'plasma TV'," Seth laid on the sarcasm. "You might've heard of it. Come on, mom, step into the future. As long as we have to replace, let's get the best!"
"I said, we'll discuss it later," Sandy cut firmly across his babble. "Drop it, Seth."
"I'm calling the security company on Monday," Kirsten continued her own train of thought. "I just want them to check everything over...."
The doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Sandy grumped, tossing his napkin down and heading for the door.
"At least tell me you'll upgrade my computer," Seth complained. "I had the old one for almost three years. Three years! Do you know what that is in computer life? Probably something like sixty-five! Retirement age. I need a...." he trailed off as Sandy reappeared with the same policeman who had questioned Ryan the previous night.
"Seth, could you go to your room?" Sandy ordered quietly.
Seth opened his mouth to argue, caught his father's look, and nodded, rising from the table. Before leaving the room, he cast a quick glance at Ryan, who stared doggedly down at his plate.
"Officer Wendt has new information for us," Sandy told Kirsten. He directed the cop to a chair and then resumed his own seat.
"A patrolman tried to pull over a van for speeding and got involved in a high speed chase that ended when the vehicle went off the road into a ditch. The driver and passenger were both arrested and the van searched. It was full of presumably stolen TVs, stereos, computers, jewelry ... basically all the things you listed as missing," he said succinctly.
"That's great!" Kirsten enthused. Sandy remained silent and Ryan's heart pounded so hard he could barely hear the cop's next words.
"Yes. Unfortunately we've got a little snag," he continued. "The suspects were booked and eventually the connection to my case was made and the information passed on to me. The passenger had a familiar last name ... Atwood." The officer let that hang in the air and Ryan could actually feel all the adults' eyes turn toward him, although he steadfastly refused to lift his own from watching his fork make patterns in his mashed potatoes.
"Terence Allen Atwood," the cop added. "Any relation, son?" he asked Ryan almost kindly.
Ryan's jaw tightened and he nodded once.
"You want to alter the details of your statement?" the investigator pressed.
Ryan opened his mouth but couldn't make a sound so he closed it again and swallowed hard.
Sandy intercepted. "Are you arresting him," he asked the cop smoothly. "If not, I'd like a chance to speak with Ryan privately and we'll bring him down to the station in the morning to answer your questions. Is that acceptable?"
The man hesitated then nodded. He stood and Sandy saw him to the door. The seconds ticked by and Ryan was very aware of Kirsten still watching him.
"Your brother?" she asked. He nodded again, biting down on his lower lip to stop it trembling.
"I'm sorry," he finally whispered no louder than a puff of air.
"I know," she answered quietly.
Sandy returned and lounged in the doorway for a moment, regarding him. "You wanna tell us what happened?"
"I." Ryan cleared his throat and tried again. "Trey showed up, said he'd been released cause of overcrowding, and asked for some money. I gave him what I had and then got him something to eat. I didn't think he'd.. I'm sorry."
"Why didn't you just tell us in the first place?" Sandy asked. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."
Ryan frowned. "Yes I did. I brought him into your house. Should've known better. Besides." he hesitated. "I couldn't . couldn't tell. He's a huge asshole, but he's my brother."
"I have a sister like that," Kirsten unexpectedly replied. Ryan shot a surprised look at her and saw she was smiling ruefully. "I spent half my life covering for her about one thing or another." She nodded at him, "Believe me, I understand. But, Ryan, eventually you've got to cut loose and stop enabling."
"Especially when you're breaking the law," Sandy put in.
"Am I, like, in trouble for aiding and abetting or something?" Ryan asked nervously.
"More like impeding an investigation, but I wouldn't worry too much."
"So." Drymouthed, Ryan asked the question that had been filling his mind since the beginning, "Am I going to . I mean, is it still cool for me to stay here?"
"What? Of course!" Kirsten exclaimed. "Is that's what's been bothering you?"
"Well, I kinda thought when you found out.." Ryan shrugged and let the thought hang.
"Oh, sweetie, no," she said, covering his hand resting on the table with her own. "No. You don't have to go anywhere."
"Listen," Sandy moved into the room and stood above Ryan fixing him with the Serious Eyes. "When we agreed to take you in, we did more than assume legal custody. I thought you understood that. You're not just hanging in our pool house on a whim. When Kirsten told you before that you're part of the family now, she spoke for all of us. And to us, family is forever - even if you're an old rat-bastard like Caleb."
Kirsten shot him a glare then continued her own convincing. "Ryan, let's face it, we don't know you very well yet and you don't know us either, but we're getting there. We think you're a wonderful person and we.choose to have you here." She paused and added, "Just try to trust us, okay? Be a little more open?" She looked at him searchingly, gave his hand a final pat and withdrew her own.
Ryan nodded dumbly, way too choked up to dare speak.
"You look all worn out," Kirsten said, rising from her seat. "Why don't you go back to bed? I'll be out in a little while to check on you, okay?"
"'Kay," he managed.
"And I'll go intercept Seth before he comes out there and grills you," Sandy added. Catching Ryan's look of distress, he said, "Don't worry. He won't be pissed at you about lying. Seth's physically incapable of carrying a grudge." He squeezed Ryan's shoulder as he passed. "About the cops. Don't worry about that either. I'll make it okay."
The thought ran through Ryan's head that it was nice to have a lawyer for a father-figure.
As Ryan headed toward his room, or could a pool house be considered a 'suite'?, he felt light and buoyant. There was still Marissa to face and Seth would undoubtedly have plenty to say but at least the worst was over and he still had a home.
He glanced back over his shoulder at the well-lit house. Kirsten was moving past the window and he saw Seth come bounding into the same room, talking, with Sandy right behind him, also talking. He smiled. A home - with family.
The End