I know it's a short chapter, but it does what it's supposed to do. The story is winding to an end, though there's a little more to it. Usual disclaimers apply.
The blood red sun was peeking over the ocean and Ryan was pedaling fast, heading towards the cemetery. It was in middle of the night that the idea to visit his mother's grave had come to him. He considered leaving right away, but knew Sandy or Kirsten would notice his absence and he didn't want to worry them. He wasn't sure if they would understand why he had the sudden urge to go there, he hadn't been there since the funeral.
He supposed he wasn't much of a son for not visiting more often, but Dawn hadn't been much of a mother. Ryan wondered if his thoughts were evil. They were definitely disloyal, but when Dawn had left him a second time he had lost all loyalty to his mother. That was when he thought about the adoption. It was so much easier to imagine calling Kirsten mom, or at least thinking of her as a mom.
He tried to push all thoughts from his head, as the early morning breeze whipped through his hair. By the time he reached the cemetery Ryan was hot and sweaty. He pulled off his shirt and tied it to the handle bar, leaving on his wife beater. He pushed the bicycle down the paved path, getting lost a little while he tried to follow the directions to his mother's plot. Someone had stuffed it in his hands after the funeral, but he hadn't paid much attention to it then. He had kept it though, putting it in his desk drawer in case he might want to use it. Maybe he wasn't such a terrible son after all.
Finally, he reached Dawn's plot. He didn't recognize it at first. The gravestone that Sandy and Kirsten had ordered was already there. It was a simple slab of granite with the following engraving: Dawn Atwood. b. May 31, 1964 d. February 5, 2004. Wife to Roger and Mother to Trey and Ryan.
It didn't say that she was loved or that she would be missed. Ryan was grateful for that. He didn't want a lie recorded for eternity, though sometimes he wasn't sure that it was a lie. He sat down in the dirt beside the marker, plucking at the few blades of grass that had already started to grow. He knew Sandy and Kirsten had paid to beautify the site. He knew they were doing it for him. They certainly weren't doing it for Dawn whom they had met only once. It wasn't like she had made a stellar impression, getting drunk at Casino night.
"Hey Mom," Ryan whispered. He looked around subconsciously, to see that no one was around to see him talking to his mother's grave. He knew people often did this in cemeteries, but it didn't make it seem any less awkward. "It's been weird since you died. I wish I had gotten the chance to say good-bye." He found a stick and pawed at the dirt. "The Cohens are really great. They took care of everything, from the funeral arrangements, to getting Dad and Trey released from prison to attend the funeral. They paid for the funeral, ordered the gravestone and even got someone to plant some nice flowers and grass around your plot." He stopped worrying that someone might see him talking to the grave.
"The Cohens want to adopt me. Now that you're gone, it's not a big deal for Kirsten to do it, but Sandy can't do it unless Dad gives up his legal rights. I don't want to ask him," he told his mother. "I don't want to know how easy it may be for him to give up on me. Sounds stupid, right?
"Dad was an ass, though he was a lot better than you." Ryan sighed and bounced a few pebbles in the palm of his hands. "I don't know why I thought you'd have the answers. It's not like you had any answers when you were alive. The only time you ever did anything with my best interest was when you left me with the Cohens this summer."
Suddenly, Ryan realized that his mother had given him the answer all those months ago. She had left him with the Cohens, because she knew they were good for him. That they could make him happy in the few years he had left to his adolescence. He stood up and wiped the dirt from his faded jeans. He got onto his bike and whispered, "Thanks mom."
As he pedaled away, he glanced at his watch and realized that it was much later than he had anticipated. Kirsten, Sandy and Seth would surely be up and wondering where he was. He hadn't left a note explaining where he was, because he thought he'd be back in plenty of time. In fact, if he didn't hurry, he wouldn't even make it to school for first period. He would definitely miss homeroom.
He arrived home, dripping with perspiration, his wife beater sticking to his body, outlining his abs and his hair wet and stuck close to his scalp. Ryan went directly to the kitchen to get a glass of water, wondering why it was so quiet. Seth was probably on his way to school. Perhaps his absence had escaped their notice and they had gone to work.
No such luck. He put his hand on the refrigerator door to the sound of Kirsten's irate voice. "Where the hell have you been?"
Ryan sheepishly turned to face her. She was standing by the island counter, arms crossed on her chest, her belly bulging out beneath them. Sandy stood scowling beside her.
"I'm sorry. I thought I'd be home before you woke up."
"You didn't answer my question," Kirsten demanded. "Where were you? We were worried sick. You didn't leave a note. We woke up and you were just gone."
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I wasn't trying to run away. I promise."
"Answer the question, Ryan." Unlike Kirsten, Sandy's voice was calm, but with a steely edge. His eyes told another story. They were a mixture of anger and worry.
Ryan twisted his shirt around his wrist. "I went to visit Dawn's grave."
"Oh." Kirsten sounded like someone had punched all the air out of a balloon. "Why didn't you say so right away?"
"Why didn't you leave a note?"
Ryan shrugged. He saw that there anger had subsided, so he dared to get the drink of water he so desperately needed. "It came to me in middle of the night. I thought that maybe seeing her grave would give me some answers. I left before the sun rose and thought I'd be back in plenty of time. I didn't even think you'd notice I was gone."
"You should have left a note," said Kirsten.
"I know." Ryan guzzled down the glass of water and then poured another one.
"If you ever do that again, I swear even if you went to see the Pope, I will ground you until you are thirty-five. Understood?"
"Yes." He took another gulp of water. "The plot looks nice. Thank you for taking such good care of it."
"Did you get the answers you were looking for?" asked Sandy. He glanced at Kirsten. The night before, when they were in bed, he had told her about Ryan's fears. They had discussed it for hours, but had come to the conclusion that Ryan would have to come to a decision on his own. There was nothing they could do to help him along, except hope that he would discuss his fears with Dr. Acobas.
To Sandy and Kirsten's utter dismay Ryan said yes.
"I want you guys to adopt me. I'd like you to be with me when we ask Roger to sign over his legal rights. I don't think I could do it alone."
Sandy and Kirsten ran over to the sandy hair teenage boy and enveloped him in a hug. "You don't have to go," Sandy reminded him. "We can send the paperwork through a lawyer."
"No, I should go. It's only right."
"You're sure about this," asked Kirsten.
"Very sure. The question is, are you certain this is the best thing with the new baby on the way?"
Kirsten patted her tummy. "This kid is going to be the luckiest kid in the world. He or she's going to have the two most amazing big brothers…" her voice cracked and she wiped away the tears that were falling down her cheeks. "We need to celebrate."
"Ryan needs to shower first," Sandy said noticing the wet spot that had landed on his starched shirt. "Consider it my first piece of fatherly advice."
Ryan snickered. "Too late for that. I've already lost count on the advice."
"Funny, kid," Sandy said, lightly shoving Ryan. "Go hit the showers. I'll take you to school and tonight we'll all go out to dinner and celebrate. How does that sound?"
"Sounds good," said Ryan, grinning from ear to ear.
Sandy watched the boy go up the stairs. It was remarkable how it seemed like a weight had been lifted from Ryan's shoulder. There was a bounce in his step that he hadn't seen in months, probably since he had met the teenager in lock up. He glanced at his wife and smiled. He was certain they had done the right thing by Ryan, though last night he wasn't so sure.
He wrapped an around Kirsten's waist as Ryan disappeared from his line of vision, and placed his head on her shoulder. "We sure are lucky."