Ryan was getting out of the shower when he heard the phone ring in the poolhouse again. Kirsten had ordered him to stay in bed because of his fever and had given him juice and aspirin. His chills had turned into sweats and he had taken a shower to try and help himself feel better. He needed to wash off this day.
His father had called. He hadn't heard from his father since the bastard got arrested the last time and Ryan hadn't wanted to talk to him. He had nothing to say to the man. He wondered how David had gotten his number, the direct number to the poolhouse. Surely, Sandy wouldn't have given it out, not to his father. Sandy would have asked him first.
Ryan heard the phone continue to ring so he pulled on some sweatpants and walked quickly to the phone. "Hello?"
"Can I speak to Ryan?"
Ryan recognized David's voice from earlier. He didn't respond. Why would his father be calling? It wasn't because of his birthday, his father didn't believe in them. They had never celebrated any holiday except payday when his father was around.
"I told you before, you have a bad number."
"Ryan. I know it's you," He said.
"What the hell do you want?" Ryan asked.
"I heard about what happened…"
"What the hell do you want?" Ryan repeated. He didn't want to talk to his father. He had nothing to say to him.
"I can't believe your mother…"
"Don't talk about her," Ryan replied automatically.
"You're going to defend that bitch after all she's done…"
Ryan hung up the phone. His hands were shaking again. God, after all these years the man could still get to him. What the hell was he calling for?
"Why are you out of bed?" Kirsten's voice startled him. She was standing in the door with a tray of more juice and something in a bowl that was steaming.
"Oh. I took a shower," Ryan replied. He went to his closet and pulled a clean shirt out and put it on. The phone rang.
Kirsten was watching him closely as he ignored the phone and sat down on the bed. He sighed.
"Aren't you going to get that?" Kirsten asked as the phone continued to ring. She put the tray on the empty chair and approached him with the thermometer.
"No," Ryan answered. He hoped that she wouldn't push it, that she would just let it drop. Kirsten rarely pushed him to open up or to talk to her and he hoped that she would just leave it.
"Ryan…do you want to talk about it?" She asked as she sat down beside him and offered the thermometer to him again. The phone stopped ringing.
"Not really," He answered. He didn't want to talk about it. His father…shit, he wouldn't let himself think about it so why would he ever talk about it?
"Okay. Are you feeling any better?" She asked.
He could tell that she was worried about him. "A little," He lied. He met her gaze as the phone started to ring again. Ryan turned to glare at the damned thing.
"Do you want me to turn the ringer off?" Kirsten asked after a long pause.
He was surprised. He hadn't thought of that. He nodded. She walked over to the phone and flipped a switch that silenced the ringer.
"Thanks." He waited for her questions. He stuck the thermometer into his mouth.
"Marissa?" She asked.
He shook his head negatively.
"Theresa?" She offered as she took the thermometer from his mouth and looked at the digital display.
"No."
"Oh," She replied. "There's no change, Ryan."
"It's only been a couple of hours, Mrs. Cohen."
"You can't bring yourself to call me Kirsten, can you?" She smiled.
"Sorry," He replied absently. What did his father want? He couldn't stop thinking about the phone calls. After years, why the hell would his father be calling.
"Hey. You okay?" Kirsten asked him.
"Yeah." He paused. "Has Sandy given my number to anyone lately? Like, has anybody called him about me?" Ryan spoke hesitantly.
"He hasn't said anything, Ryan," She said gently. He sighed. "Who's calling you, Ryan?"
Ryan started to give her another ambiguous answer but he stopped himself. She was being really nice and answering her question couldn't hurt him. He hoped.
"Ryan?"
"My dad hasn't called me in years. I haven't talked to him, haven't seen him, he's been dead to me for years. So why is he calling now?" Ryan asked. He hadn't meant to say so much but he didn't stop himself.
Kirsten didn't answer immediately. "Maybe because of what day it is?"
Ryan looked at her but didn't let his surprise show. "What?"
"It's your birthday, isn't it?" She asked.
"Yeah, but that's not why he's calling," Ryan muttered.
"You don't think he could have just wanted to wish you a happy birthday?" Kirsten questioned.
"He doesn't believe in celebrating birthdays," Ryan sighed.
"Is that why you haven't said anything about turning seventeen?" She probed.
"It's not a big deal," He said. It wasn't a big deal. He didn't expect anything. It was nice that she knew. That she remembered. His real mom hadn't remembered but Kirsten, she knew. Kirsten was a real mother, to Seth anyway, she would never forget something like a birthday.
"Yes, it is. It's your birthday, Ryan. It's the anniversary of the day you joined the world, kiddo. It's a big day," She replied gently. She put her hand on his shoulder to reassure him. He didn't flinch this time.
"That's not why he's calling. Where would he have gotten this number?" Ryan asked. He didn't want to talk about his birthday. He was too sick to care about that right now. It wasn't important.
"What about your mother?"
"She wouldn't have given it to him." Ryan glanced at her for a long moment. "Does she even have this number?"
"I don't know, Ryan," Kirsten responded.
Ryan knew that Kirsten was lying. He could see it in her eyes. Dawn had the number. She just never used it. She never called. Not to see if he was okay. Not to see if he was fucking dead or if he missed her. Dawn never called.
"You need to get some rest, Ryan. Worrying isn't going to make you feel any better, okay?"
"I'm not worrying," He muttered. He wasn't worrying. He was sick. He was sick of getting stressed out about people that could care less about him. His mother didn't care and he was sick of thinking about it.
"Do you want some soup? Rosa made it for you," Kirsten offered.
"Can it wait?" He asked. He had no appetite.
"Lie down and try to sleep, okay?" Kirsten urged.
He nodded. "Okay."
"I'll be back to check on you in a little while," She said. Kirsten smiled slightly at him as he lay down.
He closed his eyes. He didn't want to be sick. He just wanted to sleep.
But what if his mother called? He reached over and cursed himself as he turned on the phone's ringer again. Just in case.