It was a really tough chapter to write, but I did succeed in finishing it before my vacation. I hope you all like it. It didn't exactly flow….. Usual disclaimers apply.
It felt like a jolt of electricity went through Sandy as he heard Ryan express his worst fears aloud. He had been wondering for a while if Ryan's heart was really into the adoption, because something was off about the boy's behavior. He didn't seem jubilant or the least bit excited to have people who wanted his as part of their family. At first Sandy thought it was just Ryan being Ryan. The teenager had never been overly effervescent about anything, he had a quiet demeanor, and so Sandy chalked it up to personality. But Seth was astute. And Seth wasn't afraid to state his mind. Seth had said what deep down all the Cohens feared. Ryan wanted to stay an Atwood. The question in Sandy's mind was why?
"We don't have to go through with the adoption if you aren't sure."
"I didn't say I didn't want to do it. It's just that Seth is right. I can't bring myself to call you Dad or Kirsten Mom. I can't bear the thought of changing my name. So maybe –"
Sandy pulled out the leather executive chair by Ryan's desk. He rolled the chair close to Ryan's bed and put a hand on his leg. "Ryan, you're not five-years-old. You've been with us for less than a year. In that time Kirsten and I have come to love and care for you as much as Seth who is my own flesh and blood. But that doesn't mean that overnight you can make these major changes to your life."
"You were able to do it."
"It's easier for me. It's not unusual for a man to have more than one son. It's not usual for a boy to have more than one set of parents."
"It's not like they were Mike and Carol Brady."
"But they're the only parents you knew."
"Until I moved in here with you."
Sandy sighed. He didn't feel equipped to answer Ryan's line of reasoning. Sometimes he felt like they talked in circles. But then again he was glad Ryan was talking at all. It wasn't too long ago that Ryan wouldn't open up to them. He knew sending Ryan to Dr. Acobas was money well spent.
Sandy didn't have to answer Ryan, because Seth trudged into the room and slouched behind his father. "Sorry Ryan. I didn't mean anything by it."
"'S'kay," Ryan answered.
Seth turned on his heels and started to leave the room.
Ryan closed his eyes. He couldn't believe the Cohens were mediating an argument between him and Seth as if they were six-years-old. Dawn used to do that with him and Trey. It was usually Trey who did or said something nasty after Ryan had gotten on his last nerve. Dawn would slam the back of Trey's head, and he knew his brother could see stars, because he knew how hard Dawn could hit when she wanted to. Then she would shout, "Apologize to your brother." Trey would mumble a half-hearted apology; much like Seth had just done and then stalked off to a corner to be alone. Ryan never minded these moments, because it was Trey who was getting hit for a change and not him. Besides, his older brother had deserved it.
"Seth," he called after Seth's tall lanky figure. "Really it's okay," Ryan continued when Seth turned. "You were just telling the truth."
"Does that mean you're really having second thoughts about the adoption?"
Ryan studied his fingernails. They were short and uneven, bitten to the quick, his latest bad habit in the absence of cigarettes.
"I want to be a part of this family, but sometimes it's hard to give up who I was."
Sandy quietly left the room, leaving the two teenagers to talk. He didn't go far, because he wanted to eavesdrop. Seth had inherited that particular bad trait from him.
Seth leaned on the doorframe. "Who said you need to give up who you were? No one's asked you to change your name or to forget that you came from Chino or that you had a mom named Dawn and a father and a brother. But your mom is dead. Your dad and brother are in jail. They left you and we're here. We want you here. You just don't want to be here."
"That's not true." Ryan's voice rose sharply. "That's a lie."
"But you tried to run last month and you keep doing stuff that makes it seem like you don't want to be here."
Ryan rolled the edge of his blanket between his fingers. "I never understood why it was so easy for you to accept me." He looked down averting Seth's gaze. "I never doubted how you felt about me. You always had my back. But I was this kid who your father brought off the street."
"You had my back." Seth walked into the room and sat in the seat his father had vacated. "Luke and his pals tried to kick my ass, but you stopped them."
"And when Kirsten asked me to leave the next morning you fought for me stay. I heard you arguing with your parents. It was so easy for you to just add another person to your family. But it's not so easy for me to forget the one I had."
"Sorry, man, I just don't get it. Call me thick. I don't care."
"I don't know how to make you understand."
"Try."
"I can't."
Ryan jumped up from the bed and grabbed his jacket and bounded down the steps. He started for the front door but remembered he had promised the Cohens he wouldn't run off again. He hesitated for a moment at the door and then slammed it shut, ran through the kitchen and out to the pool. He kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks and dipped his feet inside, though there was a nip in the air.
It was black out when Kirsten called Ryan in. He pulled his feet out of the pool and used his socks to wipe his feet dry. He had lost track of how long he had sat there, but still he had no answers. Sighing heavily, Ryan went back inside to face the Cohens.
It was a dreamless night for Ryan, who spent most of the dark hours coughing and sneezing. In the morning Ryan's head felt like it was going to explode it was so congested. Snot was running out of his nose like water from a waterfall; he couldn't wipe it fast enough. He took turns sneezing and coughing and the thought of getting out of bed took more energy than he had. He rolled over and pulled his blanket over his head and hoped Sandy and Kirsten would just let him sleep. He was always up on time. He didn't even need an alarm to get him up most mornings. Maybe they would leave him alone.
Seth came into his room first. "Hey bro, you ready for school?"
Ryan let out a groan.
"You sick?"
He groaned again.
"Mom. Dad." Seth shouted, leaving the room. "Ryan's sick again."
Again? Thought Ryan. When was the last time he had been sick? Then the memory of the flu he had caught just a few of months ago and how Kirsten had dragged him to the doctor and how the police had arrived and told him about Dawn's death. Ryan let out a low moan and sunk deep into his cover.
Sandy and Kirsten hurried into the room and hovered over Ryan. "Are you okay, sweetie?" She put a hand on Ryan's forehead. "You don't have a fever."
Ryan turned over so he could face her.
"You look awful," Sandy broke in. "I hate to tell you kid, but I told you so."
Sandy had taken one look at his damp feet the night before and had scolded him for five minutes for putting his feet in the pool when the weather had been so unusually cool.
"You rarely need a jacket in Newport," mumbled Sandy, "And the one night that you do, you decide to go stick you feet in the pool for two hours."
"Okay Sandy, we heard your tirade last night. Just go get Ryan some cold medicine. I think he's got the message by now."
Chastised by Kirsten's irritated tone, Sandy left the room to do as his wife directed.
"Sorry," Ryan whispered from under his covers.
"Not the smartest thing you've done," Kirsten said, tenderly stroking the top of his head. "But I think you've learned your lesson."
Ryan nodded. "I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."
"Nothing that cold medicine won't fix up. But you should definitely stay home. I'll call up the school so Dr. Kim doesn't have a tizzy."
"Thanks Mom," Ryan mumbled absently and turned over and went back to sleep.
Kirsten's heart swelled with so much joy, she thought it would explode right out from behind her ribcages. She didn't even think Ryan was aware of what he was saying, but that's what made it even more special. She watched his labored breathing until Sandy came in with the medicine. She put her fingers to her lips as he noisily entered the room and together they stood over him and watched him.
Ryan didn't eat the breakfast Kirsten had prepared for him or the tray of food Rosa left for him around noontime. He wouldn't drink any of the tea or other liquids the maid prepared. After the fourth attempt Rosa called Kirsten at work to update her on Ryan's condition.
"Ryan, honey, you have to eat something," insisted Kirsten after rushing home when Rosa called.
Ryan didn't answer. He just slid deep down under his covers, curled in a fetal position.
"You won't get better if you don't eat." She stood over him frown lines forming at the corners of her mouth.
Ryan didn't say a word. He sporadically coughed and sneezed, but didn't bother to wipe his nose when mucus started to trickle down from his nostrils. Kirsten returned every half hour to try and convince him to eat or drink something. Ryan refused.
"Sandy, I'm worried about him," Kirsten said over the phone.
"He has a nasty cold. He doesn't have an appetite. Don't worry about it."
The Cohens left Ryan alone aside from bringing him food, but when he still wasn't eating two days later, even Sandy started to worry. Kirsten had a check-up with her OB/GYN, so Sandy worked from home. He came up to the room first every half hour then every fifteen minutes and he urged, "Ryan you haven't moved from the bed for days. This is ridiculous."
Sandy had noticed small bits of food missing from Ryan's tray of food. He was relieved that Ryan wasn't starving himself, but he wanted to heave the boy up into a sitting position and to pinch his nose close to force liquids down his throat. If it were Seth he would probably do that, but with Ryan… Ryan had suffered too much abuse at the hands of his parents. Sandy pulled up a chair and sat by Ryan's bed. He stared at his brown-blonde hair and reached out to rub it, but retracted his hand. Why was he treating Ryan differently than he would his own son? Ryan was his son.
Silently, Sandy stood up and peered at Ryan's huddled figure and saw that he was awake. "Sit up," demanded Sandy. He yanked the blanket off of Ryan. Ryan flinched, but didn't move get up. "I said, sit up." Sandy took hold of Ryan under his armpit and yanked him into a sitting position. He held a cup of water to Ryan's mouth and forced him to drink. Most of the water splashed onto Ryan's shirtfront, but some went down and he coughed and spluttered. He looked up at Sandy with his big round blue eyes.
"Don't give me your puppy dogs. Enough is enough. You're cold's gone. And it was just a cold. Not even the flu."
Sandy withdrew the now empty cup and put it down on the night table. "You're getting up and you're getting into a shower, because frankly you're beginning to smell. Then you're going to get dressed. You're going to join the family at dinner and tomorrow Rachel is going to the jail and she will get your father to sign those papers. No more futzing around with this adoption. Whether or not you like it Kirsten and I are going to go through with it."
"No," Ryan spat out. It was the first word Ryan had said in days. The intensity of his word made Sandy jumped back.
"No more choices Ryan."
"No." He coughed. His throat hurt after not talking for so many days. "I want to see Roger sign the paper myself."
Sandy sighed and sank into the chair next to Ryan's bed. "If you insist. But we're doing this," he said rubbing his eyes. "Tomorrow."
"Okay," said Ryan and he gingerly got out of bed and headed for the shower.