"Summer in Chino" – Chapter 5
Advance warning: This is the last chapter so if you were expecting a protracted saga you can stop expecting it. There will probably be other stories in this Ryan/Summer AU because I still feel there is a lot that can be told about them as a couple. There may be a fic about Theresa's wedding, bringing Seth along and having him hook up with a chick from Chino perhaps. There may be a ficlet about Ryan and Summer finally, openly admitting 'I love you.' There may be a fight and temporary breakup. I don't know. Anything can happen because it's my own personal OC world!
*************
Summer woke to hazy sunlight shining through smeary windows. For a second she was disoriented. Where was her white canopy? Her soft, Egyptian cotton sheets? Princess Sparkle on her nightstand? And what was that steady thrumming sound in her ear?
She tried to lift her head but something warm and heavy was pressed against it, weighing her hair down. Summer tugged and the weight moved emitting a 'merrow?' Cat! Cat on head! Possible fleas! Summer sat up quickly. The tabby shifted and resettled in the warm indentation Summer's head had left in the pillow.
Seen in the morning light, the bedroom was just as hideous as it had been the previous night if not as stifling hot. Summer looked over her shoulder at Ryan, who was still fast asleep, breathing through his mouth with a light, whistling snore. Tendrils of hair clung to his sweaty forehead. His face was swollen and discolored. Bruises spread out from under the bandage wrapped around his ribcage. He looked like he was going to be in a world of pain when he woke up.
Summer suddenly realized that she'd gotten her wish from yesterday morning. She had spent a whole night with Ryan. When she'd fantasized this, she certainly hadn't expected it to be under such bizarre circumstances and without any sex whatsoever.
Watching his chest rise and fall with each breath, Summer had an overwhelming urge to squeeze him tight. Instead, she touched his arm softly, careful not to wake him. Feeling the warm skin and solid muscle, reassured her that he was alive and well and there. That was good enough. As for the words he'd said last night, she would continue to chalk them up to drug-induced sleepiness. It was easier that way.
She wondered what today would bring. Would Ryan continue to try to find a way to help his mother or would he finally admit defeat. Summer wasn't averse to giving the woman a ride to L.A. or someplace so she could get a fresh start, but she didn't think Dawn was really ready to change. Summer didn't know what the answer was but hoped, for Ryan's sake that they could come up with a workable solution.
After giving the cat a quick pat, she slipped quietly out of bed and got dressed then stooped to retrieve her purse from beside the bed where she'd placed it the night before. It wasn't there. She dropped to her knees, lifted the dust ruffle and looked for it under the bed. There was nothing but dusty shag carpet. Summer's heart raced. Miguel! That creep had actually come into the room while they slept and stolen her purse. It gave her the shudders.
Then a new thought occurred. It was unthinkable yet totally possible. Dawn was, after all, a junkie and everyone knows an addict will steal anything from anyone when they're desperate. Dawn had seen her set her purse down beside the bed.
Summer didn't want to jump to any wrong conclusions. She stood up and looked at the nightstand. Thank god, Ryan's phone was still there. She grabbed it and left the room.
Downstairs, Mr. Murchison was moving around in the kitchen and the smell of frying bacon wafted into the living room. As expected, the couch was Miguel-free. Summer followed the bacon smell into the kitchen.
"Good morning," the old man greeted her as he flipped the sizzling bacon.
"' Morning," she replied. "That kid is gone? He stole my purse!"
"And my father's gun," Mr. Murchison said. "I thought I was so careful when I put it away. I was sure he didn't see. Luckily I tucked my wallet under the mattress, so it's still here."
"That evil, little rat!" Summer stormed. She pressed her cell number on Ryan's phone. Somewhere in Chino it rang.
"Hello?"
"Miguel, you weasel, I'm gonna kill you!"
"Hey, princessa, how ya doin'?" he answered calmly.
"Couldn't you have even left one credit card so we could get home?" she complained.
"You still got a phone, right?" he replied. "So call your daddy. I'm sure he'll come get you."
"You took Mr. Murchison's gun. How could you?"
"Guy's gotta survive. Tell the viejo I'm sorry, but it's all he had that was worth anything."
"How's he supposed to protect himself now?" Summer berated the boy.
"Not my problem."
"God, you suck!"
"Often," Miguel quipped with a laugh.
"Don't you care about anybody but yourself? Mr. Murchison's a nice man, who never hurt anybody. You should be ashamed!" she continued to scold.
After a moment's pause, Miguel sighed theatrically, "All right, chica, I'll try and keep an eye out for the old man. I know some people who might be able to clear up his Jose problem. The guy's got a lot of enemies, 's what I'm sayin'."
Summer wondered if just hearing that made her an accessory to murder or something. "Okay. That sounds ... really illegal. Good luck with that."
"I gotta go now, Newport. Nice meetin'ya. Tell our boy, Ryan, 'hey' from me."
Miguel hung up.
Summer exchanged a look with Mr. Murchison. "Well," she said dryly, "Miguel says to tell you he's sorry about the gun. Also it sounds like he might 'take care of' your Jose problem. Guess sometimes it's nice to have a criminal for a friend."
The old man shook his head. "The little bastard. Pardon the language, Miss Summers."
"No problem."
"Breakfast is almost ready if you'd like some," he changed the subject.
"Yes please. I'm starving. Ryan isn't awake yet. I don't know about his mom. I suppose I could go check on her and see if she wants anything." Summer made it sound like she'd rather jump into a vat of acid.
Before leaving the kitchen, she gave Charles a big smile. "Thanks for everything, Mr. Murchison. I'm sorry we brought you so much trouble."
"My dear, I haven't had this much excitement in years. Come to think of it, I've never had any excitement in my life." He paused. "We all need to be shaken out of our complacency every now and again, eh?" He smiled back at her.
Summer left the kitchen, went up the creaky stairs and stopped before Dawn's closed door. She knocked lightly then a little louder. There was no answer. Summer delivered a sharp rap. Either Dawn was a very heavy sleeper or she'd managed to OD on something.
Summer opened the door a crack then all the way. The bed was empty. The room was empty. There was a piece of paper on the pillow.
She crossed the room and picked it up. It was only a piece of notebook paper folded in half and it would be sooo easy to unfold and read it, but Ryan's name was scrawled across it in loopy, schoolgirl handwriting so Summer contained her curiosity. She carried it away from her body like a piece of nuclear waste she was afraid would contaminate her.
She retraced her steps to the master bedroom. Entering the room, she could tell from the change in Ryan's breathing that he was awake. At the sound of her footsteps he slowly turned his face toward her. He peered at her through his good eye.
"Hey," he croaked.
"Good morning. You look like crap," she said, sitting on the bed next to him and taking his hand. She stroked his swollen knuckles gently with her thumb.
"Feel like it, too." He noticed the paper in her hand. "What's that?"
Summer cringed inside. She knew this was going to hurt worse than his physical injuries. Releasing his hand, she silently handed him the note.
He held it, staring at his name for a long moment. "She's gone?" he asked, no expression coloring his voice.
Summer nodded.
"Did you read it?"
"No." Summer picked nervously at the sheet. "Do you ... do you want me to leave? I could...." she gestured toward the door.
Ryan looked from the note to her face with dark, fathomless eyes. "Yeah. Please."
"Sure." Summer got up then hesitated. "Ryan. I'm so sorry."
He nodded but his attention was back on the note in his hands. He had resumed staring at the scrawled 'Ryan' as if he could decipher some hidden meaning there.
"I'll come back and check on you in a while," Summer said then left the room.
As she walked back downstairs, she thought of the multitude of ways she would like to hurt Dawn Atwood. How many times and ways could the woman abandon Ryan before he stopped trusting people completely? Well, it would just be up to Summer and the Cohens to keep on undoing her damage. Summer was up for the challenge.
"Hello, Mr. M," she said as she reentered the kitchen. Charles was scrambling eggs in a black skillet. "No Dawn this morning. Looks like she took off, too."
"Oh." He stopped stirring to look at her. "That's ... too bad. Have you told Brian?"
Summer almost smiled at the name mix-up. He was so adorably befuddled. "Yeah. He's awake now. His mom left him a note. Guess that's her forte – note writing."
Charles shook his head. He served up some of the eggs and a couple of strips of bacon on a plate and set it in front of Summer. "Of course, it's none of my business, but...."
"What?" Summer prompted.
"In a way, don't you think it's ... for the best? That she left? There's nothing that young man can do to help her if she doesn't want to be helped. I take it, from what I heard last night, that he has a foster family now? The best thing he can do is to go home and ... try to live his life."
"Mr. Murchison you are a wise man," Summer agreed, biting into a forkful of egg. "But everyone else realizing that and Ryan accepting it are two different things."
He nodded and dished up a second plate for himself. They ate in companionable silence at the kitchen table. Summer praised his culinary skill even as she crunched into several bits of eggshell. She felt a warm, furry body brush against her legs and started with a little shriek.
"Sorry. Not used to cats," she explained.
Charles smiled. "Pouncer's looking for a second breakfast." He dropped a crumb of egg and a bit of bacon on the floor and the cat abandoned Summer's legs and streaked over to the food.
"He's so cute," Summer enthused, thinking that the overweight, straggle- eared cat was actually one of the most unattractive pets she'd ever seen.
Summer's plate was already empty and Charles offered her another serving. "No thanks. I'm going to go see how Ryan's doing. He so banged up he might need help getting downstairs. It was delicious, though. Thank you."
She ascended the stairs for the second time that morning.
Ryan was sitting on the edge of the bed trying to put on his T-shirt. He had an arm in each sleeve and was struggling to lift them high enough to slip the shirt over his head, grimacing in pain. Summer noted that Dawn's message was crumpled into a ball on the floor.
He dropped his hands to his lap. "I can't get this. Could you...?"
Summer went over to help, but she quickly saw that the process of dressing Ryan was going to be more painful than useful to him. "Just leave it off," she suggested. "I'm sure Mr. Murchison has a button-up you could borrow – if you don't mind plaid." Ryan nodded and dropped the T-shirt to the floor.
Summer sat down beside him. She put an arm around his waist, leaned over to kiss his bare shoulder and then fluffed up the flattened hair at the back of his head. "You okay?"
He gave her his sideways, 'Are you kidding?' look.
"Well, as okay as you can be under the circumstances," she amended.
"Sure," Ryan sighed tiredly. "I just want to go home."
Summer's heart buoyed up at the words. No more fantastic adventures in Chino? That was fine by her.
"We can do that," she assured him. "Let me help you down to the kitchen. Mr. M. will give you breakfast and I'll go get the jeep." She held up an admonishing finger, "And don't give me any crap about walking through the mean streets of Chino. I'll be fine. I'll walk really, really fast."
"Oh! I almost forgot. Guess who else has gone missing this morning? Miguel. Yeah. He stole my purse and Mr. Murchison's gun. So I called him 'cause he's got my cell phone, and he was an ass about it, but he did say he had some friends who might get rid of this Jose guy. So, if he does that I guess losing my purse was worth it." She chattered on, the words tripping faster and faster from her tongue. "Oh my god! I've got to call and cancel all my credit cards before he maxes them out. Although how he's going to find a Neiman Marcus in Chino is beyond me."
Ryan smiled with one side of his mouth. He reached out a hand and cradled Summer's cheek, looking deeply into her eyes. "Thanks," he said huskily.
Summer felt suddenly shy at his intense gaze. "For...?" she asked lightly.
"For everything," he continued in that serious tone. "And...." he dropped his eyes, pulling her keys from his pocket and handing them to her, "for going to get the jeep. I know you'll be fine. As a matter of fact," he teased, "I pity anyone who tries to mess with you."
Summer grinned. She jumped up lightly and offered a hand to help Ryan to his feet. "Come on. You don't want to miss Mr. Murchison's eggs 'n' bacon. They're crunchy. The eggs, that is, the bacon's kind of floppy."
**********
It was early afternoon. The sun baked the asphalt of the highway stretching in front of the jeep but inside it was a manmade seventy-two degrees. The radio was turned so low it was barely a hum of white noise. Summer thought the song sounded like Abba's "Dancing Queen," and wasn't she a closet geek for knowing that? Whether it was the right song or not, Summer sang along inside her head.
She glanced over at Ryan, clad in a light blue and white striped Oxford, courtesy of Mr. Murchison. He was dozing, legs sprawled out, arms wrapped around himself, head dipping down on his chest then jerking up occasionally. It didn't look very restful. Summer pressed the accelerator a little harder. She was anxious to get him home. No doubt there would be hell to pay with the Cohens for this adventure but as wrecked as Ryan looked she doubted they'd lay into him too hard. And if they did, she'd be there to run interference.
Although it was none of her business, she wondered again what Dawn's note had said. It was probably full of the usual apologies and self- denigration that an abandoning mother put forth to try to make herself feel better. "It's better for you this way. I'm no good as a parent. I'm sorry." Yeah, Summer had heard that line of bullshit before. But she had to admit in Dawn's case it was perfectly true.
She thought about Mr. Murchison in his little house on Mariposa Street and hoped he would be safe. She had actually teared up a little when they thanked and bid him goodbye. Summer promised herself she would call once in a while to make sure that he was okay.
Ryan startled and sat up straight as she accidentally let the jeep drift over the speed strips on the side of the road. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked and looked blearily out the window.
"Sorry about that," Summer apologized. "We're almost home, anyway." She guided the jeep onto the ramp at the next exit.
They passed a tasteful 'Welcome to Newport Beach' sign and were soon surrounded by all the familiar landmarks that let Summer know she was back in her own world. As she made turn after turn, glimpses of the ocean were occasionally visible.
"Sandy's going to kill me," Ryan remarked when they drew closer to the Cohens' street.
"Probably," Summer agreed. She abruptly pulled over and parked on the side of the road.
He looked at her with a raised, questioning eyebrow.
"Before I get you home and in case you're grounded for a long time," Summer explained. She scooted to the edge of her seat and leaned toward Ryan. He stiffly maneuvered his bruised body toward her and they kissed.
"Ow."
"Sorry." Summer gentled her pressure on his lips.
"It's okay," he mumbled into her mouth.
She pulled back. "Hey, next time we go to Chino...."
"Next time?"
"For the wedding. Next time you can introduce me to some of your old friends. I can't wait to see this Theresa chick."
Ryan smiled. "You sure you're up for another trip to Chino ... ever?"
"Of course." Summer paused a moment then spoke seriously. "About your mom...."
"I don't want to talk about it." Ryan's face closed up and the smile disappeared. "I'm done worrying about her ... or even thinking about her."
Summer pursed her lips and nodded her head. "Except you're not. You never will be, but that's okay." She rested a hand gently on his arm and gave him a little smile. "I just want you to know that you can talk to me about her when you need to. No one understands better than me about obsessing over a misplaced mom."
Ryan was still frowning slightly, but he acknowledged her words with a curt nod.
"That's all I'm gonna say about it," Summer continued. "Now give me another kiss and I'll take you home to the Cohens."
They shared a long, careful kiss, and then Summer put the jeep in gear and drove toward home.
The End
Advance warning: This is the last chapter so if you were expecting a protracted saga you can stop expecting it. There will probably be other stories in this Ryan/Summer AU because I still feel there is a lot that can be told about them as a couple. There may be a fic about Theresa's wedding, bringing Seth along and having him hook up with a chick from Chino perhaps. There may be a ficlet about Ryan and Summer finally, openly admitting 'I love you.' There may be a fight and temporary breakup. I don't know. Anything can happen because it's my own personal OC world!
*************
Summer woke to hazy sunlight shining through smeary windows. For a second she was disoriented. Where was her white canopy? Her soft, Egyptian cotton sheets? Princess Sparkle on her nightstand? And what was that steady thrumming sound in her ear?
She tried to lift her head but something warm and heavy was pressed against it, weighing her hair down. Summer tugged and the weight moved emitting a 'merrow?' Cat! Cat on head! Possible fleas! Summer sat up quickly. The tabby shifted and resettled in the warm indentation Summer's head had left in the pillow.
Seen in the morning light, the bedroom was just as hideous as it had been the previous night if not as stifling hot. Summer looked over her shoulder at Ryan, who was still fast asleep, breathing through his mouth with a light, whistling snore. Tendrils of hair clung to his sweaty forehead. His face was swollen and discolored. Bruises spread out from under the bandage wrapped around his ribcage. He looked like he was going to be in a world of pain when he woke up.
Summer suddenly realized that she'd gotten her wish from yesterday morning. She had spent a whole night with Ryan. When she'd fantasized this, she certainly hadn't expected it to be under such bizarre circumstances and without any sex whatsoever.
Watching his chest rise and fall with each breath, Summer had an overwhelming urge to squeeze him tight. Instead, she touched his arm softly, careful not to wake him. Feeling the warm skin and solid muscle, reassured her that he was alive and well and there. That was good enough. As for the words he'd said last night, she would continue to chalk them up to drug-induced sleepiness. It was easier that way.
She wondered what today would bring. Would Ryan continue to try to find a way to help his mother or would he finally admit defeat. Summer wasn't averse to giving the woman a ride to L.A. or someplace so she could get a fresh start, but she didn't think Dawn was really ready to change. Summer didn't know what the answer was but hoped, for Ryan's sake that they could come up with a workable solution.
After giving the cat a quick pat, she slipped quietly out of bed and got dressed then stooped to retrieve her purse from beside the bed where she'd placed it the night before. It wasn't there. She dropped to her knees, lifted the dust ruffle and looked for it under the bed. There was nothing but dusty shag carpet. Summer's heart raced. Miguel! That creep had actually come into the room while they slept and stolen her purse. It gave her the shudders.
Then a new thought occurred. It was unthinkable yet totally possible. Dawn was, after all, a junkie and everyone knows an addict will steal anything from anyone when they're desperate. Dawn had seen her set her purse down beside the bed.
Summer didn't want to jump to any wrong conclusions. She stood up and looked at the nightstand. Thank god, Ryan's phone was still there. She grabbed it and left the room.
Downstairs, Mr. Murchison was moving around in the kitchen and the smell of frying bacon wafted into the living room. As expected, the couch was Miguel-free. Summer followed the bacon smell into the kitchen.
"Good morning," the old man greeted her as he flipped the sizzling bacon.
"' Morning," she replied. "That kid is gone? He stole my purse!"
"And my father's gun," Mr. Murchison said. "I thought I was so careful when I put it away. I was sure he didn't see. Luckily I tucked my wallet under the mattress, so it's still here."
"That evil, little rat!" Summer stormed. She pressed her cell number on Ryan's phone. Somewhere in Chino it rang.
"Hello?"
"Miguel, you weasel, I'm gonna kill you!"
"Hey, princessa, how ya doin'?" he answered calmly.
"Couldn't you have even left one credit card so we could get home?" she complained.
"You still got a phone, right?" he replied. "So call your daddy. I'm sure he'll come get you."
"You took Mr. Murchison's gun. How could you?"
"Guy's gotta survive. Tell the viejo I'm sorry, but it's all he had that was worth anything."
"How's he supposed to protect himself now?" Summer berated the boy.
"Not my problem."
"God, you suck!"
"Often," Miguel quipped with a laugh.
"Don't you care about anybody but yourself? Mr. Murchison's a nice man, who never hurt anybody. You should be ashamed!" she continued to scold.
After a moment's pause, Miguel sighed theatrically, "All right, chica, I'll try and keep an eye out for the old man. I know some people who might be able to clear up his Jose problem. The guy's got a lot of enemies, 's what I'm sayin'."
Summer wondered if just hearing that made her an accessory to murder or something. "Okay. That sounds ... really illegal. Good luck with that."
"I gotta go now, Newport. Nice meetin'ya. Tell our boy, Ryan, 'hey' from me."
Miguel hung up.
Summer exchanged a look with Mr. Murchison. "Well," she said dryly, "Miguel says to tell you he's sorry about the gun. Also it sounds like he might 'take care of' your Jose problem. Guess sometimes it's nice to have a criminal for a friend."
The old man shook his head. "The little bastard. Pardon the language, Miss Summers."
"No problem."
"Breakfast is almost ready if you'd like some," he changed the subject.
"Yes please. I'm starving. Ryan isn't awake yet. I don't know about his mom. I suppose I could go check on her and see if she wants anything." Summer made it sound like she'd rather jump into a vat of acid.
Before leaving the kitchen, she gave Charles a big smile. "Thanks for everything, Mr. Murchison. I'm sorry we brought you so much trouble."
"My dear, I haven't had this much excitement in years. Come to think of it, I've never had any excitement in my life." He paused. "We all need to be shaken out of our complacency every now and again, eh?" He smiled back at her.
Summer left the kitchen, went up the creaky stairs and stopped before Dawn's closed door. She knocked lightly then a little louder. There was no answer. Summer delivered a sharp rap. Either Dawn was a very heavy sleeper or she'd managed to OD on something.
Summer opened the door a crack then all the way. The bed was empty. The room was empty. There was a piece of paper on the pillow.
She crossed the room and picked it up. It was only a piece of notebook paper folded in half and it would be sooo easy to unfold and read it, but Ryan's name was scrawled across it in loopy, schoolgirl handwriting so Summer contained her curiosity. She carried it away from her body like a piece of nuclear waste she was afraid would contaminate her.
She retraced her steps to the master bedroom. Entering the room, she could tell from the change in Ryan's breathing that he was awake. At the sound of her footsteps he slowly turned his face toward her. He peered at her through his good eye.
"Hey," he croaked.
"Good morning. You look like crap," she said, sitting on the bed next to him and taking his hand. She stroked his swollen knuckles gently with her thumb.
"Feel like it, too." He noticed the paper in her hand. "What's that?"
Summer cringed inside. She knew this was going to hurt worse than his physical injuries. Releasing his hand, she silently handed him the note.
He held it, staring at his name for a long moment. "She's gone?" he asked, no expression coloring his voice.
Summer nodded.
"Did you read it?"
"No." Summer picked nervously at the sheet. "Do you ... do you want me to leave? I could...." she gestured toward the door.
Ryan looked from the note to her face with dark, fathomless eyes. "Yeah. Please."
"Sure." Summer got up then hesitated. "Ryan. I'm so sorry."
He nodded but his attention was back on the note in his hands. He had resumed staring at the scrawled 'Ryan' as if he could decipher some hidden meaning there.
"I'll come back and check on you in a while," Summer said then left the room.
As she walked back downstairs, she thought of the multitude of ways she would like to hurt Dawn Atwood. How many times and ways could the woman abandon Ryan before he stopped trusting people completely? Well, it would just be up to Summer and the Cohens to keep on undoing her damage. Summer was up for the challenge.
"Hello, Mr. M," she said as she reentered the kitchen. Charles was scrambling eggs in a black skillet. "No Dawn this morning. Looks like she took off, too."
"Oh." He stopped stirring to look at her. "That's ... too bad. Have you told Brian?"
Summer almost smiled at the name mix-up. He was so adorably befuddled. "Yeah. He's awake now. His mom left him a note. Guess that's her forte – note writing."
Charles shook his head. He served up some of the eggs and a couple of strips of bacon on a plate and set it in front of Summer. "Of course, it's none of my business, but...."
"What?" Summer prompted.
"In a way, don't you think it's ... for the best? That she left? There's nothing that young man can do to help her if she doesn't want to be helped. I take it, from what I heard last night, that he has a foster family now? The best thing he can do is to go home and ... try to live his life."
"Mr. Murchison you are a wise man," Summer agreed, biting into a forkful of egg. "But everyone else realizing that and Ryan accepting it are two different things."
He nodded and dished up a second plate for himself. They ate in companionable silence at the kitchen table. Summer praised his culinary skill even as she crunched into several bits of eggshell. She felt a warm, furry body brush against her legs and started with a little shriek.
"Sorry. Not used to cats," she explained.
Charles smiled. "Pouncer's looking for a second breakfast." He dropped a crumb of egg and a bit of bacon on the floor and the cat abandoned Summer's legs and streaked over to the food.
"He's so cute," Summer enthused, thinking that the overweight, straggle- eared cat was actually one of the most unattractive pets she'd ever seen.
Summer's plate was already empty and Charles offered her another serving. "No thanks. I'm going to go see how Ryan's doing. He so banged up he might need help getting downstairs. It was delicious, though. Thank you."
She ascended the stairs for the second time that morning.
Ryan was sitting on the edge of the bed trying to put on his T-shirt. He had an arm in each sleeve and was struggling to lift them high enough to slip the shirt over his head, grimacing in pain. Summer noted that Dawn's message was crumpled into a ball on the floor.
He dropped his hands to his lap. "I can't get this. Could you...?"
Summer went over to help, but she quickly saw that the process of dressing Ryan was going to be more painful than useful to him. "Just leave it off," she suggested. "I'm sure Mr. Murchison has a button-up you could borrow – if you don't mind plaid." Ryan nodded and dropped the T-shirt to the floor.
Summer sat down beside him. She put an arm around his waist, leaned over to kiss his bare shoulder and then fluffed up the flattened hair at the back of his head. "You okay?"
He gave her his sideways, 'Are you kidding?' look.
"Well, as okay as you can be under the circumstances," she amended.
"Sure," Ryan sighed tiredly. "I just want to go home."
Summer's heart buoyed up at the words. No more fantastic adventures in Chino? That was fine by her.
"We can do that," she assured him. "Let me help you down to the kitchen. Mr. M. will give you breakfast and I'll go get the jeep." She held up an admonishing finger, "And don't give me any crap about walking through the mean streets of Chino. I'll be fine. I'll walk really, really fast."
"Oh! I almost forgot. Guess who else has gone missing this morning? Miguel. Yeah. He stole my purse and Mr. Murchison's gun. So I called him 'cause he's got my cell phone, and he was an ass about it, but he did say he had some friends who might get rid of this Jose guy. So, if he does that I guess losing my purse was worth it." She chattered on, the words tripping faster and faster from her tongue. "Oh my god! I've got to call and cancel all my credit cards before he maxes them out. Although how he's going to find a Neiman Marcus in Chino is beyond me."
Ryan smiled with one side of his mouth. He reached out a hand and cradled Summer's cheek, looking deeply into her eyes. "Thanks," he said huskily.
Summer felt suddenly shy at his intense gaze. "For...?" she asked lightly.
"For everything," he continued in that serious tone. "And...." he dropped his eyes, pulling her keys from his pocket and handing them to her, "for going to get the jeep. I know you'll be fine. As a matter of fact," he teased, "I pity anyone who tries to mess with you."
Summer grinned. She jumped up lightly and offered a hand to help Ryan to his feet. "Come on. You don't want to miss Mr. Murchison's eggs 'n' bacon. They're crunchy. The eggs, that is, the bacon's kind of floppy."
**********
It was early afternoon. The sun baked the asphalt of the highway stretching in front of the jeep but inside it was a manmade seventy-two degrees. The radio was turned so low it was barely a hum of white noise. Summer thought the song sounded like Abba's "Dancing Queen," and wasn't she a closet geek for knowing that? Whether it was the right song or not, Summer sang along inside her head.
She glanced over at Ryan, clad in a light blue and white striped Oxford, courtesy of Mr. Murchison. He was dozing, legs sprawled out, arms wrapped around himself, head dipping down on his chest then jerking up occasionally. It didn't look very restful. Summer pressed the accelerator a little harder. She was anxious to get him home. No doubt there would be hell to pay with the Cohens for this adventure but as wrecked as Ryan looked she doubted they'd lay into him too hard. And if they did, she'd be there to run interference.
Although it was none of her business, she wondered again what Dawn's note had said. It was probably full of the usual apologies and self- denigration that an abandoning mother put forth to try to make herself feel better. "It's better for you this way. I'm no good as a parent. I'm sorry." Yeah, Summer had heard that line of bullshit before. But she had to admit in Dawn's case it was perfectly true.
She thought about Mr. Murchison in his little house on Mariposa Street and hoped he would be safe. She had actually teared up a little when they thanked and bid him goodbye. Summer promised herself she would call once in a while to make sure that he was okay.
Ryan startled and sat up straight as she accidentally let the jeep drift over the speed strips on the side of the road. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked and looked blearily out the window.
"Sorry about that," Summer apologized. "We're almost home, anyway." She guided the jeep onto the ramp at the next exit.
They passed a tasteful 'Welcome to Newport Beach' sign and were soon surrounded by all the familiar landmarks that let Summer know she was back in her own world. As she made turn after turn, glimpses of the ocean were occasionally visible.
"Sandy's going to kill me," Ryan remarked when they drew closer to the Cohens' street.
"Probably," Summer agreed. She abruptly pulled over and parked on the side of the road.
He looked at her with a raised, questioning eyebrow.
"Before I get you home and in case you're grounded for a long time," Summer explained. She scooted to the edge of her seat and leaned toward Ryan. He stiffly maneuvered his bruised body toward her and they kissed.
"Ow."
"Sorry." Summer gentled her pressure on his lips.
"It's okay," he mumbled into her mouth.
She pulled back. "Hey, next time we go to Chino...."
"Next time?"
"For the wedding. Next time you can introduce me to some of your old friends. I can't wait to see this Theresa chick."
Ryan smiled. "You sure you're up for another trip to Chino ... ever?"
"Of course." Summer paused a moment then spoke seriously. "About your mom...."
"I don't want to talk about it." Ryan's face closed up and the smile disappeared. "I'm done worrying about her ... or even thinking about her."
Summer pursed her lips and nodded her head. "Except you're not. You never will be, but that's okay." She rested a hand gently on his arm and gave him a little smile. "I just want you to know that you can talk to me about her when you need to. No one understands better than me about obsessing over a misplaced mom."
Ryan was still frowning slightly, but he acknowledged her words with a curt nod.
"That's all I'm gonna say about it," Summer continued. "Now give me another kiss and I'll take you home to the Cohens."
They shared a long, careful kiss, and then Summer put the jeep in gear and drove toward home.
The End