I Love You This Much – Chapter 3
This is the final chapter. Thanks for the reviews. Hope y'all like the end.
A letter addressed to Ryan sat on the mail table. Seth and Ryan had each gotten several letters from different schools in California. Sandy smiled as he glanced at it as he walked through the kitchen. He stopped. The University of Texas? Sandy picked it up and turned it over. It had the heft of an acceptance letter. He checked the front of the envelope again. Plan II Office? Gently, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Sandy put it down on the sideboard.
The boys tumbled into the house after school, heading straight to the kitchen. They were surprised by Sandy sitting at the island counter.
"Hey, Dad." Seth opened the refrigerator and pulled out a juice for himself and one for Ryan.
"You're home early."
Sandy nodded, but his eyes were on Ryan as the boy rifled through the mail. Sandy noticed Ryan pause as he saw the envelope from UT. Turning from the mail, letter in hand, held slightly behind him, he took the juice that Seth offered him.
"Yeah. Got out of court sooner than I expected." Sandy watched Ryan. "How were your days?"
"Great! Ted, the moron...." Seth started to launch into what would clearly be an extended story.
"Uh. I'll be right back." Ryan didn't look at Sandy or Seth and slipped out the back door.
Seth lifted a hand to acknowledge Ryan's departure, but didn't pause in his narrative. Sandy turned and watched his foster son disappear into the pool house.
xxxx
An hour later, Ryan still hadn't come back in the house. Sandy paced around the kitchen while Seth played a video game, oblivious. Finally, Sandy made his way out to the pool house.
"Ryan?" Sandy rapped lightly with his knuckles as he pushed the door open.
Ryan was sitting in the middle of the bed, head in hands, staring at the letter. He raised his head when Sandy peeked in.
"Hey."
Sandy closed the door behind him. "Everything alright?"
Silently, Ryan picked up the piece of paper and handed it to Sandy.
Sandy took it from the boy and skimmed it quickly. His eyebrows went up, and he looked quickly at Ryan. Now he read the letter more carefully.
"Ryan. Wow." Sandy shook his head as he sat down on the bed next to Ryan. "This is just... Well, it's wonderful!"
Ryan flushed slightly at Sandy's praise, but he still looked uncertain.
"It's Texas."
"Yes, it is." Sandy couldn't help himself. "Did you not realize that when you applied?"
Ryan looked up sharply and then realized Sandy was teasing him.
"Well, yeah. I just... I just... It's so far away."
Not understanding, Sandy asked gently, "If you're worried about it being far away, why did you apply?"
Ryan shrugged, eyes on the comforter. He glanced at Sandy and then away.
"Ryan?"
"I don't know. I guess... I guess I wondered what it would be like to go somewhere no one knows me. I didn't really think about what I'd do if I got in." He shot another glance at Sandy, trying to gauge his reaction. Sandy kept his face carefully neutral. He nodded slightly.
Encouraged, Ryan continued, but still hesitantly. "After one of the football games last fall, they had a commercial, and it looked cool, so I played around on the Internet, and checked it out. It's a really good program. Plan II."
Sandy nodded again, considering his next question.
"OK." He paused. "Why somewhere no one knows you?"
Ryan picked at the comforter, biting his lip.
"Have we managed to push you away with all our family meals and parental lectures?" Sandy smiled in an attempt to take the sting out of the question, but he couldn't quite keep the hurt out of his voice or his eyes.
"What?" Startled, Ryan gaped at Sandy and stumbled over his words. "No, Sandy. No! It isn't that at all. I promise." Ryan struggled to put his emotions into some kind of sense that Sandy would understand. He looked helplessly at his foster father. Sandy waited, trusting that if he was patient, Ryan would tell him.
Ryan dropped his eyes again; he could feel Sandy beside him, steady, solid. He took a deep breath.
"I applied for the program when things with Marissa were... bad. Before we broke up. Everything was so hard. And I felt, like, so... not me." He sighed. "But I wasn't even sure who I was supposed to be. I knew who I was in Chino; it sucked most of the time, but it was me." He started picking at the comforter again. "When I came here, to everyone I was 'that boy from Chino.'" He looked over at Sandy to see if he understood. Sandy nodded. "Even if I didn't feel like that kid anymore." He stopped for a long minute. "But that's who I was. Not to you and Seth and Kirsten. But to everyone else, to Marissa."
"I saw that ad for UT, and I wondered what it would be like to start over. Go somewhere I can be who I think I am now. Or who I want to be. Where no one's going to think they know who I am just because they know where I'm from."
"And if you go to Berkeley with Seth and so many kids from Harbor, Chino's going to follow you."
Ryan lifted a shoulder. "I guess it's going to follow me wherever I go." He gave Sandy an uncertain look. "But maybe in Texas it will follow a little further behind."
Sandy was silent. After a couple of long seconds, he reached out, tugging Ryan toward him. Obediently, Ryan crawled across the bed until he was sitting next to Sandy.
Closing his eyes, Sandy put an arm around Ryan and pulled him into a tight embrace. After only a slight hesitation, Ryan turned into Sandy, pressing his face into Sandy's shoulder.
"We love you so much." Sandy whispered it in Ryan's ear as he wrapped his arms more securely around his foster son. "You know that, don't you?" Sandy felt Ryan's response in the nod against his shoulder, the clutching of fingers against his back.
Pulling back slightly, Sandy took Ryan's face in his hands. "Is this what you want?"
Ryan nodded. "I think so."
"I told you once before, I wasn't going to let you go."
Ryan nodded again, and felt his eyes sting.
"Same goes this time, OK? Don't think you're getting out of Christmas breaks and summers here, understand?"
Ryan laughed unsteadily. "Do you promise?"
Sandy moved his hands to Ryan's shoulders and gave him a shake.
"Count on it."
Sandy released Ryan and slapped him on the knee. Rising he started toward the door.
"Seth's going to be so pissed." Sandy almost didn't catch Ryan's whisper. He turned back and saw Ryan still sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked at Sandy with anxious, unhappy eyes.
Sandy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "He'll come around."
xxxx
The Cohens had responded to Ryan's acceptance to UT with a combination of anger, pleasure and dread. The anger, from Seth mostly, had abated after a certain amount of pouting and a firm talking to from Sandy about the responsibility of loving someone unconditionally. You can be disappointed and hurt, Seth. I understand that. But don't punish Ryan for doing something he feels he has to do. You'll drive him away and lose him completely. You need to forgive him and move past this. The pleasure and dread came in alternating waves for both Kirsten and Sandy. They were so proud of Ryan for getting in to a tough program, but the fear that he would never be back was sometimes overwhelming.
Kirsten dealt with her fear by denying it, throwing herself into preparing both the boys for college. She'd decided to accompany Ryan to Austin for the summer weekend of orientation to the University of Texas.
"I haven't seen Gloria in years," she insisted when she broke the news to the boys at dinner one night. "This will be a wonderful opportunity for us to catch up."
Ryan – and Seth and Sandy for that matter – looked at her doubtfully. "She lives in Austin?"
"She moved there right out of college."
"And you haven't seen her since?"
"We've kept in touch."
Sandy raised his eyebrows at her.
"We have! I sent her our last Chrismukkah card." Kirsten was done explaining herself. "I've already arranged everything. Ryan and I will fly out together next week."
Seth shook his head. "Dude," he laughed. "Just don't let her make you hold her hand."
"Stop it, Seth."
xxxx
Ryan would never have admitted it to Seth, but secretly he was pleased that Kirsten actually wanted to go with him to Austin. Seth took his parents' devotion for granted, and delighted in rolling his eyes and groaning at their loving insistence in being involved in his life. But Ryan still sometimes found himself surprised, and a little overwhelmed, when Sandy or Kirsten treated him like their own, and he reveled, privately, in any individual attention they gave him.
The Austin airport was not big, but it was confusing and disconcerting to land in a strange city. Ryan had been relieved not to have to negotiate the trip to the campus by himself.
"Kirsten!" There was a shout from the bottom of the escalator. Kirsten waved at the woman waiting for them. "Gloria!" She walked quickly down the moving steps, as Ryan trailed after her.
The two women embraced, laughing. "It's so great to see you in person again! Finally!"
They released each other, and Kirsten reached out for Ryan, pulling him close. "This is Ryan."
Smiling, Ryan held out his hand. Gloria took it and pulled him in for a hug. "Honey, any child of Kirsten's gets a hug from me!"
Ryan hugged her back, rolling his eyes at Kirsten, who grinned.
"Let's get y'all's bags, and then we'll get Ryan settled." She linked her arms through Kirsten's and Ryan's. "Honey," she said to Kirsten, "have I got plans for you while your boy learns the words to 'The Eyes of Texas' this week!"
xxxx
Three days later, Kirsten picked up Ryan outside Jester dormitory on campus. There were kids and parents milling around, and it took Kirsten awhile to spot Ryan's blonde head among the throng. When he saw her, Ryan's face split in a grin and he waved at her, dodging the other reunited families as he headed toward her.
"Hey!" He stopped in front of her, dropping his bag at her feet.
"Hey!" Forgetting her pledge to herself that she wouldn't embarrass him, she threw her arms around him. Ryan hugged her back enthusiastically. Kirsten laughed out loud as he squeezed the breath out of her.
"Did you have a good time?"
"Yeah. It was amazing!" His face was glowing, the excitement radiated off him. Who was this boy?
"Ryan!" A shout from behind her. Kirsten turned to see another boy Ryan's age maneuvering through the crowd. A man and a woman were trying to keep up with him.
"Hey, Jack." The two boys slapped hands.
"These are my parents. Luke and Deborah Cain." Ryan shook hands with his friend's parents.
"This is my mom." Only Kirsten heard the slight hesitation. He looked at her, unsure if he'd said the right thing. Kirsten felt the tears start to her eyes. She put a reassuring hand on his arm and smiled as she held out her hand to the couple.
"Kirsten Cohen."
"Y'all headed home tonight?"
Kirsten shook her head. "No, our plane leaves tomorrow morning."
"Y'all should totally come to the Salt Lick with us tonight!" Jack's invitation was eager. He looked to his parents for confirmation. They nodded.
"Yes, you must!" Deborah's voice was warm. "There are a few families we know with children starting in the fall. We're meeting at the Salt Lick for dinner."
"Salt Lick?" Kirsten was skeptical.
Luke laughed. "Barbecue! Great stuff. You gotta try it."
Kirsten looked at Ryan for guidance. He was nodding his head.
"OK, we'll come. What time? And how do I get there?"
xxxx
The Texas Hill Country was beautiful as Kirsten and Ryan headed out of town toward the Salt Lick. But good Lord, it was hot. Even at 6 o'clock in the evening.
Kirsten pointed the vents at herself and turned up the air conditioning as high as it would go. Ryan shot her a look and she relented, turning one vent toward him.
Kirsten leaned toward the dash so she could get the gale of cold air directly in her face.
"Honey, are you sure?" She stared out the front window. She could see the heat rising from the road. "It is so hot!"
"Yeah. But everything's air conditioned." Kirsten snorted her response to that. She'd experienced the air conditioning over the past week. It had frozen her to her bones in every building she'd entered and made the heat a relief when she'd walked outside. For about 30 seconds. And then the misery was back.
She shook her head. "OK. I just hope you don't catch pneumonia going from one extreme to the other all the time."
Ryan grinned and kept on driving.
xxxx
They stood under the trees at the restaurant, waiting for their party to be called. One of the men opened a cooler and pulled a beer out of the ice.
"Shiner?"
Kirsten accepted gratefully. She put the icy bottle against her cheek. "I didn't realize how spoiled I was with our weather in California!"
The man laughed and wiped the condensation off his own bottle on the leg of his jeans. "I'm a transplant myself. Michigan. I hate summer." He reached out a hand. "Clive Jacskson."
"Kirsten Cohen."
"This is my wife, Maggie."
Kirsten smiled and shook her hand. Maggie nodded her head at the cluster of young people at the other table.
"Which one's yours?"
"Ryan – blonde hair, blue shirt."
"Handsome," Maggie said approvingly. "Ours is Kyle." There was a burst of laughter from the group. "Loud mouth, orange shirt."
Kirsten studied the perspective freshmen. The khaki shorts and t-shirts the boys seemed to have been wearing uniformly on campus had been exchanged for blue jeans, button-down shirts, and boots. The two girls in the midst of the boys both had on short skirts and sandals. Their breezy, summer blouses came demurely to the waistbands of their skirts and showed off tanned arms and slim throats. They were laughing uproariously at the boys, giggling and flirting.
They were all so young.
"Cain!" The name was shouted from the door. "Cain party!"
Gathering up coolers and purses, the five families hurried toward the entrance. Kirsten felt Ryan beside her, and she smiled at him. Unthinkingly, he shielded her from being jostled when Jack came up suddenly on his left.
"So, Mrs. Cohen, Ryan. Y'all ever had barbecue before?"
Ryan rolled his eyes. Did Jack seriously think they'd never eaten barbecue? "Of course we have. There's a place in Newport that has pretty good..."
"In California?" Kirsten hadn't realized you could put so much scorn into one word. Which was amazing considering who her son was.
"Dude! Was it tofu?" Kyle joined the conversation.
"Ha. Ha." Ryan was beginning to realize that being from California was going to make him the butt of more jokes than he was comfortable with here in the land of big hair and funny accents. He would have to consult with Seth when he got home for some appropriate retorts.
"So, what you're saying is, you've never had barbeque." Luke Cain had turned to add his two cents. "Well." He slapped Ryan on the back. "We'll have to show y'all how it's done."
When they'd finally converged on the row of tables that had been set aside for them, the group had managed to divide itself fairly demographically – kids, women, men. Kirsten found herself across the table from Deborah Cain and Maggie Jackson, and on the dividing line with the men. Ryan was in the middle of the kids, and she could see him easily down the table.
As she talked to Deborah and Maggie, Kirsten felt her eyes drawn repeatedly down the table to Ryan. Over the course of the two years Ryan had lived with them, Kirsten had spent much of the time observing him, trying to figure out this boy who had become such an integral part of her family. Watching him now, she felt her heart ache to see the young man he had become, was still becoming.
He seemed so relaxed, his face open and almost wondering as he watched the interaction of the kids around him. None of them knew him, knew his past; and at this moment, that was heady knowledge. Kirsten remembered that feeling when she'd gone away to school, and she knew the other kids were experiencing that same intoxicating sense of freedom to one degree or another. At some point in the coming year, Kirsten recognized, Ryan would want to be known again, would want the safety that comes from being known for who you are and loved for it. But now....
She smiled. She and Sandy and Seth would be there for him when he needed it.
"He's your first to leave home, isn't he?" Deborah's question took her by surprise, and she started.
Kirsten flushed, realizing she'd been caught staring. Wonderful, she thought. They're going to think I'm one of those creepy, too-attached mother's. But Deborah's eyes were kind.
Kirsten took a fortifying sip of beer. "Yes. Ryan and our other son are actually both going to school this year."
"Wow." Maggie looked at her in sympathy. "Two in one shot, that's tough."
"Do you have any more at home?"
Kirsten shook her head, now fighting the tears that had suddenly sprung to her eyes.
"I cried like a baby when we dropped our first off at A&M." Deborah shook her head at the memory. "And teared up at the drop of a hat the whole summer before he left." She smiled ruefully. "It served an unintended purpose. By the time we got to College Station, Jimmy was so afraid I'd start sobbing uncontrollably, that he was too nervous over my impending break down to be sad when we drove off."
The three women laughed.
"I take it this is old hat for the two of you?" Kirsten asked.
"Jack's our third of four. The black sheep. UT over A&M." Deborah put a hand to her heart. "The shame has been almost too much to bear."
"Kyle's our last out of the house." Maggie looked down the table at her son, who appeared to be trying to force-feed Ryan with a bottle of some bright pink liquid. They could hear the kids encouraging Ryan to try it. "Come on, man, it's Big Red. It will complete your barbecue experience." Ryan, trying to avoid the bottle that kept coming at him, looked apprehensively down the table and caught Kirsten's eye. Trapped, and not about to be humiliated in front of his foster mother, he took a mouthful. His audience waited with bated breath. Grimacing, Ryan swallowed and then fumbled for his remaining Dr. Pepper, gulping down a cleansing mouthful. "It tastes like bubble gum!" Howls of laughter greeted this declaration, and the long-standing feud over the merits of Big Red resumed among the teenagers. Kyle's voice could be heard, strong and clear, even over the din in the restaurant.
"Yeah." Maggie turned back to the adult conversation. "I'm not nearly as broken up about it as I thought I would be."
xxxx
Dinner had ended with exchanges of emails and phone numbers and promises to keep in touch. Ryan ducked his head and smiled at Kirsten when she linked her arm through his as they walked through the rocky parking lot. Sometimes still shy of her touches, Ryan steadied Kirsten when she faltered on her high heels.
"Maybe boots would have been a better shoe choice." She laughed and hung on to Ryan's arm. She grinned over at him. "Now I know what to get you for Chrismukkah."
Ryan snorted and cast a sideways glance at her. "I don't think so." When they got to the car, he opened her door and handed her in. Kirsten leaned her head back against the seat, and let it loll around loosely as they bumped out of the parking lot.
"I'm stuffed."
Ryan laughed. "Me, too."
Kirsten turned her head to look at him. "I liked them."
"Me, too."
They sat in comfortable silence on the rest of the drive back.
When they pulled into Gloria's driveway, Kirsten turned to Ryan. "This is right for you, isn't it?"
Slowly, Ryan nodded his head. "I really think it is."
She put a gentle hand on his arm. "I needed to be sure."
"I know." Ryan turned and met her gaze. "Thank you."
xxxx
His first day of school Ryan had met a girl. After 5 years of friendship, he'd realized she was the girl. Sarah Cunningham had fascinated him from the very beginning – not like Marissa had, with her remote, seemingly unattainable beauty and air of fragile helplessness, but because Sarah had an easy serenity that drew him inexorably toward her. A girl of no drama, Sarah had a gentle smile, and a steady heart. She listened more than she talked, and over the years of their friendship, she'd challenged him and encouraged him, teased him and supported him, loved him unconditionally, and taught him how to love in return. Slowly, he'd learned to trust her with all that he was, and she'd never given him cause to doubt his faith in her.
He'd realized he was in love with her one night in graduate school as they'd sat at a coffee shop, studying. They'd been goofing off instead of reading, giddy with exhaustion and high on caffeine, trying to see how many lines from the original Airplane! they could recite. She'd spilled coffee down her front and he was snickering through, "Looks like you picked the wrong week to quit drinking" when their eyes met. She was laughing her open-mouthed, full-throated laugh, tears in her eyes, head thrown back in complete abandon as she tried to dab at the growing stain on her white shirt.
I love you.
He felt it so strongly that he thought for a moment that he'd said it out loud. It was so sudden, so overwhelming that it left him staring at her, gaping like a fish.
"What?" she'd asked, still laughing, now wiping at her chin, thinking she had coffee on more than just her shirt.
"N-N-Nothing," he'd managed to stammer. She'd crinkled her forehead at him, like she always did when she thought he was crazy, and left the table to see if she could salvage her blouse.
By the time she got back from the bathroom, Ryan had talked himself down. And then she'd smiled at him again and he was gone. The rest of the night he'd snuck little glances at her until she'd slapped him on the arm and told him to cut it out. Ryan had fled 10 minutes later.
It took him a week to work up the courage to tell her how he felt. He'd asked her to grab some ice cream, and stumbled through his confession over Mexican Vanilla with Heath Bar crushed in. She'd stared at him in silence for a couple of very long seconds, before a slow, sweet smile spread across her face.
"Well, then I guess you better talk to Daddy."
They'd been married three months later.
xxxx
The call had come while Ryan was fixing the training wheels on the bike of their youngest son. Sarah had handed him the phone and knelt down by Jamey, her eyes never leaving Ryan's.
xxxx
Ryan let the almost forgotten cadences of the funeral Mass wash over him. It was different from the services at the church he and Sarah attended with the boys in Austin, but the formality and familiarity of the ritual were comforting, soothing in a way he hadn't really expected. Sarah's grip on his hand was firm, and he could feel Sandy's arm around his shoulders, squeezing occasionally to let him know he was there.
It had been two years since he'd spoken to his mother. She'd been in and out of his life since college, rarely sober, always needing. The final straw had been a drunken phone call where she'd mistaken 8-year-old Will for Ryan and screamed incoherently about his abandonment of her. Ryan hadn't even realized his son was on the phone until the crying boy had handed him the phone. Furious and shaking with emotions Ryan couldn't even identify, he'd cut off his mother's rant with sharp, angry words and hung up. Picking up his son, Ryan had held him until they'd both stopped trembling.
After the service, everyone headed back to the Cohens, and Ryan drifted aimlessly through the small crowd of friends and well-wishers. He shook hands and accepted condolences, sad smiles and hugs. None of these people had known his mother, but they knew him and the Cohens. Ryan knew the emotions were sincere, but the feeling of disconnectedness couldn't be shaken.
After the last guest had gone home, Ryan made his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and slipped out the back door. Ryan rolled his shoulders trying to ease the stiffness that had settled there three days ago during the conversation where Sandy told him his mother was dead. Loosening his tie, Ryan walked to one of the lounge chairs by the pool. Nudging it several feet with his toe, he managed to maneuver it to a spot where he knew from experience that no one could see him from the house. It was a funny blind spot, and one Ryan had exploited many times while he lived with the Cohens. He'd grown to like being able to sit looking out at the ocean when he needed time to himself.
Now, as he sat staring out at the water, he could hear just beyond his consciousness the sounds that he'd come to associate with home. He could hear the light voices of his children and Seth's, dishes clanking together, female voices – Sarah, Summer, Kirsten – quiet laughter, Seth's sardonic voice raised occasionally above the boys'. Taking a long pull on the beer, Ryan leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, listening, trying to make his mind just stop. He sat in the relative silence and willed his body to settle.
"How you doing, kiddo?"
Ryan smiled at the familiar phrase and weight of Sandy's hand on his shoulder.
"OK, I think."
Sandy looked down at the top of Ryan's sandy head.
"Did you know you can't see this spot from the kitchen?"
Ryan took another drink from the bottle with a smile.
Sandy stared at his foster son for just a moment, and then threw back his head and laughed. Grabbing another chair, he dragged it close to Ryan's.
They sat in companionable silence for a moment.
"How'd you feel about the service?"
Ryan lifted a shoulder. "It was fine." He paused. "I mean, it was beautiful. You and Kirsten ... "
Sandy raised a hand to stop him. "Sweetheart." He turned his head, and Ryan quit talking obediently. "You know that's not what I meant."
Ryan rolled his head toward Sandy. "I know." He tilted the bottle back for another sip of beer. He was quiet again for a long time, the sounds from the house drifted across the patio area – muffled laughter and the soft sounds of cleaning away the mess from the reception.
"I was thinking," Ryan started. He stared down at the bottle in his hand, and started picking at the label. Slowly, he peeled the loose paper off the damp bottle.
"All during the service. I kept trying to remember the good times with her. The times that were, I don't know, happy or significant or ... something." He was studying his nails where his fingers were wrapped around the neck of the bottle.
"And the thing was, I kept coming back to you." He slanted a glance at Sandy. "To you and Kirsten and Seth." He shook his head. "I don't know. I kept looking for something that would make me feel connected to her, to my life before; wanting something that would make me feel sad – or angry even, I guess. But I couldn't." He turned his gaze to the sea.
"It wasn't that I didn't feel anything for her. I did. But it wasn't the grief I thought I'd feel when she died." Sandy's quiet presence had its usual effect on Ryan, encouraging him and comforting him. "I think..." Ryan shifted in his seat, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees. He turned his head and met Sandy's eyes. "I think I realized something."
Sandy mimicked Ryan's posture. "What's that?" he asked softly.
Ryan dropped his head down and a small smile softened his face. "That you guys love me. That I love you. That you and Kirsten were my real parents."
Sandy reached out and put a hand on Ryan's shoulder, squeezing gently.
"It wasn't that I didn't know all that before." He faltered, and glanced over at Sandy. "I'd just never felt it so ... viscerally. I can't explain it." His eyes filled with tears. "You guys saved me. And I'm so grateful."
"Ryan..." Sandy looked at the young man sitting next to him, and saw, for a moment, the boy he'd brought home close to 20 years before. That boy, this man. Sandy shook his head in wonder at the family he'd been given. "Ryan..."
A shriek and an affronted, "Ow!" broke the moment, and both men turned in their chairs to see Ryan's two oldest boys dragging his youngest toward the pool. Seth's daughter was pushing him from behind.
"Nooooo!" Jamey's shout of denial was laced with giggles, but he was struggling mightily in the grip of his brothers. "Stop!"
"Hey!" Ryan's voice cut through the clamor of young voices and Will and Ben lost their hold on Jamey in their surprise. Jamey wriggled free and sprinted toward his father. He jumped into Ryan's startled arms as his brothers gave chase, barreling across the patio.
Ryan tucked Jamey into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around him, and hunching over to protect him. Will and Ben attacked, digging fingers into their father's sides, reaching grasping hands under his arms, trying to gain some kind of hold on their squirming, screaming brother. Unable to resist, Sandy joined in the fray, pulling random children away from Ryan, tickling and adding his own voice to the cacophony. Ryan squirmed and laughed and tried to fend off small, insistent hands.
Finally, breathless with exertion, and hoping to sound firm, Ryan yelled, "Enough!" The children fell back, and Jamey snuggled triumphantly into his father's chest. He grinned smugly at his brothers and cousin who glared back at him.
Giving up, for now, Will asked, "Daddy, can we swim?"
"It's OK with me, if it's OK with Grandpa and Mom."
Three very different pairs of young eyes swiveled toward Sandy.
"Check with your moms. And Grandma!" He yelled as they raced back inside.
Ryan hugged Jamey close to him, resting his chin on the top of his son's head. Jamey rested his head contently against Ryan. His thin arms came up around Ryan's neck. "I love you, Daddy," he sighed. Ryan tightened his grip, his eyes going to Sandy. Reaching out, Sandy smoothed a hand over the bright blonde hair. Ryan kissed his son softly, his eyes meeting Sandy's over Jamey's head.
"I love you, too, sweetheart."
Half way through the service,
While the choir
sang a hymn,
He looked up above the preacher,
And he sat and
stared at Him.
He said "Forgive me, Father," when he
realized,
That he hadn't been unloved or alone all his life.
His
arms were stretched out as far as they'd go,
Nailed to the cross,
for the whole world to know.
"I love you this much and I'm waiting on
you,
To make up your mind: do you love me too?
However long it
takes, I'm never giving up.
No matter what, I love you this much."