Ryan set the phone back on its cradle. She called. His mother had called. Even though she wasn't there when he finally got the phone, at least she called.
"Ryan?" Kirsten called from nearby. She was watching him carefully. At least she hadn't come at him with the thermometer yet. He had been sleeping deeply when her voice had woken him up and told him that he had a phone call. He hadn't let himself get excited, he remembered that he had smashed the phone in the poolhouse so he'd be taking all his calls in the big house now, but when she told him that it was Dawn, he had to admit that he was pleased. She remembered. Maybe a day late but just the fact that she remembered at all was impressive.
"Ryan?" Kirsten called again.
He had forgotten to answer her. "Yeah?"
"That was a pretty fast phone call," She remarked, concern lining her face.
Ryan shrugged.
"Are you hungry? It's a little after noon, you should try and eat something," She said.
He turned to her and recognized the thermometer in her hand. He couldn't stop the smile from crossing his face. She gave him a curious look, concerned by his amusement.
"Sorry. I think you carry that thing around in a holster," He remarked as he sat down at the counter.
"You know the drill," Kirsten smiled. "Are you feeling better today?"
"A little," Ryan lied. His head was still pounding and he felt like there was cotton stuffed into his brain. His vision was even foggy today. He accepted the thermometer in his mouth.
"Why don't I believe you?" She asked after a beat. She stepped over until she was beside him. He forced himself not to recoil as she put her hand against his face and looked into his eyes. "You look sick, Ryan."
"I'm better," Ryan replied evenly. If he kept saying it, she'd have to believe him eventually. She took her hand away and he relaxed. He never knew exactly how he was supposed to respond to her and his nerves were a little on edge today.
She took the thermometer back and looked at it. "It's a little lower than last night, but you're still running a fever."
"But it's better, right?" Ryan asked.
"A little. I'm going to warm you up some soup and I want you to try and eat as much as you can," She urged.
"I can do it," Ryan said immediately, starting to stand up.
"Sit. This is my job," She replied. Ryan sat down.
"Where's Seth?"
"I think he's out with Summer," Kirsten replied.
Ryan nodded. He figured as much. He was slightly relieved. At least Seth wouldn't be hovering over him. He could use a day to recharge. He watched her put the bowl of soup into the microwave.
"What did your mother have to say?" She asked with her back to him.
Ryan didn't sense any animosity in her question, just curiosity. He knew that Kirsten didn't feel threatened, she'd never tried to replace his mother or downplay Dawn's parenting techniques, she was simply his caretaker now. He wondered why she'd care what his mother said to him.
"Nothing," He responded after a beat.
"She didn't say anything?" Kirsten asked surprised.
"We were never big on the talking," Ryan said.
"But…she called, I talked to her," Kirsten said, clearly confused as to why Dawn would call and not say anything. It must be nice to have never encountered people like Dawn.
"She must've had to go before I got to the phone," Ryan replied quietly. He had heard her breathing. He knew that she had heard him answer. She had heard his voice and hung up. It struck him suddenly that he had been satisfied just because she had called. His expectations were pathetically low. He didn't need to hear her voice. He was bound to her regardless. He felt a knot form in his gut. He would always love his mother no matter how badly she treated him. Even if she hadn't called, he'd still be hanging on the moment that she give him the slightest acknowledgment. He didn't need to hear her voice, he didn't need to feel her arms around him or see her look at him with concern on her face, she had his love regardless. He hated himself for caring about her but she was his mother. Dawn was his mother and there was nothing he could do to change that. Even if he could stop loving her, he would never forgive himself. He didn't want to be like his father, he didn't want to not care. He prided himself on being stone, on being hard and keeping things from affecting him but his mother…she was his Achilles heel.
"Ryan?"
He must have drifted off because Kirsten's voice was laced with worry.
"Sorry," He murmured.
She was watching him again. When he caught her glance, she turned away and went to the microwave to check on the soup.
"I'm sorry. I know you wanted to talk to her," Kirsten said quietly.
How would she know? He'd never mentioned it to her. He'd never mentioned it to anyone. How could she tell that the one thing he wanted for his birthday was a sign from his mother that she remembered? He must have let his control slip. If she could read him that easily, he must have done something wrong.
"Ryan."
His name always sounded strange coming from her lips. She set the soup in front of him. He gave her a weak smile and hoped that it was enough.