"Ryan?" she calls out when she regains consciousness. Disoriented, she
examines her current situation. Bright white lights, shiny white tiled
floors, a flimsy cotton hospital gown, an IV tube connected to her arm and
the deep twisted firey pain of her belly. Her hand automatically touches
that part of her body. Shutting her eyes, she silently counts to ten,
praying that by then the pain will have stopped. But it doesn't.
"Mama?" she calls out again. Hoping that they have not left her in the hospital alone. She wonders who found her. The last clear memory she has is trying to rush to the bathroom. Vague flashes of pain and sobbing persist in her mind, and she wonders whether Ryan witnessed any of that. She never wanted him to see her in moments of weakness. She could be strong. She knew it. It was just the pain- the deep unbearable twisting of her insides. A gasp escaped her.
A figure walks closer to her bed, she is too weak to raise her head and is beginning to realize that the bright lights are making her dizzy. The figure comes closer, it is her mother. She tries to say hello, but is soon overwhelmed with the need to cry. There is complete devestation on her mother's face. The older woman's forty year old frame was smaller than usual. Shoulders drooping, head hung low in a melancholic way. Theresa wants to ask her mother what is so wrong. Why are you sad, Mama? Is it because I'm in the hospital? What's wrong with me, Mama? Not a sound leaves Theresa.
Theresa becomes more conscious of herself now, the drugs are obviously flowing in her bloodstream, her neck aches from the lumpy hospital pillow, her fingernails are diggin into her belly. Her belly. The baby. Oh God. Is that what-? No. No. No. No. No.
"NO!" Theresa screams out loud. Her mother grabs Theresa's hands which have began to flail and strike out in every direction. With a firm hold on her daughter, she envelopes Theresa in a hug. Having wasted all her energy on the outburst, Theresa collapsed into her mother's hug. Tears flowing down her face and two words continuously spilling from her liips. My baby.
Ryan, sitting in the hospital waiting room, folds his hands in prayer. God, please, You took the baby. Please, make Theresa okay.
"Hey kiddo." It's Sandy Cohen. Ryan looks up, big blue eyes have turned dark and youthful skin has been attacked by wrinkles and other lines of worry. Sandy tries to smile but can't. On the phone, Ryan sounded distraught- almost afraid. Now, seeing such a young boy in such a state of dispare, Sandy wasn't sure what to do.
"She..." Ryan trailed off. He didn't want to finish the sentence, afraid that admitting it, would make the awful fact true. Knowing in his parental sixth sense what had happened, Sandy said nothing and instead placed a comforting hand on Ryan's shoulder. It gave Ryan the courage to face the truth. "She lost the baby."
Her mother had gone home to get ready for work as soon as Theresa fell back asleep. But Ryan never left the hospital. He asked Sandy to leave a short time after Theresa's mom left. He knew he had to be by her side- he didn't want to place a burden on Sandy to stay.
"When you go back to Newport, please don't tell anyone what happened." Ryan asked calmly, as Sandy stood by the hospital door. "I mean, I know you've already told Kirsten, but I don't want anyone else to have to worry. And Seth... Just. Please?"
Sandy had agreed. A wave of relief flooded Ryan as he did. Though he had originally left Newport to take care of Theresa and the baby, he needed a good time away from his new life. It was good. It made sense for a while. But he knew that his standing as "the boy from Chino" would never change. And hey, might as well be "the boy from Chino" in Chino, right?
He smiled to himself and then stopped immediately. This was not a situation where smiles where welcome. Theresa lay in the bed in front of him. Tubes attached to her arms forcing fluids of drugs into her weak body. Her long lashes swept delicately across her cheeks as her eyes fluttered, entering the girl into consciousness.
"Ryan." she said. It was all she needed to say. It was hello and I'm sorry and I can't believe this and You're sad and I'm sad and I'm glad you're here all rolled into two tiny syllables. Her deep brown eyes looked into is blue ones- the color was beginning to lighten again. Gently, she moved her hand over to find his. He held that one slender hand of hers, closed between his two rough large hands and brought it to his lips. He softly kissed her soft flesh before resting their hands on the bed again.
"So Dad, where were you?" Seth asked noticing his father's car pulling into the driveway, late Thursday night. "Mom's been really worried since you left. What was so important at the office?"
"Just some business stuff, son." Sandy replied distractedly. Ryan and the hospital and Theresa on a hospital bed were still on his mind. He walked into the house with his lanky son trailing after him. Grabbing a beer out of the fridge, Sandy appreciatively gulped down the alcoholic beverage.
"You come home really late from work. My mom's worried as heck. And you're chugging down a nice cold one." Seth continued animatedly before his face dropped in shock. "Oh my God, you're having an affair! How could you?! I don't believe you! How long has this been going on?? I demand answers!" His voice rose with each coming phrase and soon, Kirsten Cohen entered the kitchen with messy hair and bathrobe. Seth had woken her and she was not happy.
"You demand answers to what?!" she asked before turning to her husband. "Are you okay?" Seth glared at his father but said nothing to his mom. Instead he just gave her a lingering hug and left to go to his room. But not before sending a deadly look at his father.
"Mama?" she calls out again. Hoping that they have not left her in the hospital alone. She wonders who found her. The last clear memory she has is trying to rush to the bathroom. Vague flashes of pain and sobbing persist in her mind, and she wonders whether Ryan witnessed any of that. She never wanted him to see her in moments of weakness. She could be strong. She knew it. It was just the pain- the deep unbearable twisting of her insides. A gasp escaped her.
A figure walks closer to her bed, she is too weak to raise her head and is beginning to realize that the bright lights are making her dizzy. The figure comes closer, it is her mother. She tries to say hello, but is soon overwhelmed with the need to cry. There is complete devestation on her mother's face. The older woman's forty year old frame was smaller than usual. Shoulders drooping, head hung low in a melancholic way. Theresa wants to ask her mother what is so wrong. Why are you sad, Mama? Is it because I'm in the hospital? What's wrong with me, Mama? Not a sound leaves Theresa.
Theresa becomes more conscious of herself now, the drugs are obviously flowing in her bloodstream, her neck aches from the lumpy hospital pillow, her fingernails are diggin into her belly. Her belly. The baby. Oh God. Is that what-? No. No. No. No. No.
"NO!" Theresa screams out loud. Her mother grabs Theresa's hands which have began to flail and strike out in every direction. With a firm hold on her daughter, she envelopes Theresa in a hug. Having wasted all her energy on the outburst, Theresa collapsed into her mother's hug. Tears flowing down her face and two words continuously spilling from her liips. My baby.
Ryan, sitting in the hospital waiting room, folds his hands in prayer. God, please, You took the baby. Please, make Theresa okay.
"Hey kiddo." It's Sandy Cohen. Ryan looks up, big blue eyes have turned dark and youthful skin has been attacked by wrinkles and other lines of worry. Sandy tries to smile but can't. On the phone, Ryan sounded distraught- almost afraid. Now, seeing such a young boy in such a state of dispare, Sandy wasn't sure what to do.
"She..." Ryan trailed off. He didn't want to finish the sentence, afraid that admitting it, would make the awful fact true. Knowing in his parental sixth sense what had happened, Sandy said nothing and instead placed a comforting hand on Ryan's shoulder. It gave Ryan the courage to face the truth. "She lost the baby."
Her mother had gone home to get ready for work as soon as Theresa fell back asleep. But Ryan never left the hospital. He asked Sandy to leave a short time after Theresa's mom left. He knew he had to be by her side- he didn't want to place a burden on Sandy to stay.
"When you go back to Newport, please don't tell anyone what happened." Ryan asked calmly, as Sandy stood by the hospital door. "I mean, I know you've already told Kirsten, but I don't want anyone else to have to worry. And Seth... Just. Please?"
Sandy had agreed. A wave of relief flooded Ryan as he did. Though he had originally left Newport to take care of Theresa and the baby, he needed a good time away from his new life. It was good. It made sense for a while. But he knew that his standing as "the boy from Chino" would never change. And hey, might as well be "the boy from Chino" in Chino, right?
He smiled to himself and then stopped immediately. This was not a situation where smiles where welcome. Theresa lay in the bed in front of him. Tubes attached to her arms forcing fluids of drugs into her weak body. Her long lashes swept delicately across her cheeks as her eyes fluttered, entering the girl into consciousness.
"Ryan." she said. It was all she needed to say. It was hello and I'm sorry and I can't believe this and You're sad and I'm sad and I'm glad you're here all rolled into two tiny syllables. Her deep brown eyes looked into is blue ones- the color was beginning to lighten again. Gently, she moved her hand over to find his. He held that one slender hand of hers, closed between his two rough large hands and brought it to his lips. He softly kissed her soft flesh before resting their hands on the bed again.
"So Dad, where were you?" Seth asked noticing his father's car pulling into the driveway, late Thursday night. "Mom's been really worried since you left. What was so important at the office?"
"Just some business stuff, son." Sandy replied distractedly. Ryan and the hospital and Theresa on a hospital bed were still on his mind. He walked into the house with his lanky son trailing after him. Grabbing a beer out of the fridge, Sandy appreciatively gulped down the alcoholic beverage.
"You come home really late from work. My mom's worried as heck. And you're chugging down a nice cold one." Seth continued animatedly before his face dropped in shock. "Oh my God, you're having an affair! How could you?! I don't believe you! How long has this been going on?? I demand answers!" His voice rose with each coming phrase and soon, Kirsten Cohen entered the kitchen with messy hair and bathrobe. Seth had woken her and she was not happy.
"You demand answers to what?!" she asked before turning to her husband. "Are you okay?" Seth glared at his father but said nothing to his mom. Instead he just gave her a lingering hug and left to go to his room. But not before sending a deadly look at his father.