A BAD MONDAY
11:00 pm
Ryan lay on his side looking down into the glass he held loosely in his hand. He had found neither truth nor escape in alcohol. He felt the alcohol working in his system. Alcohol was supposed to be a depressant; so, why didn't the damn light bulb switch off? Why couldn't he relax, stop worrying, shut down?
I wonder how Seth is? The thought insinuated itself into the tumbling kaleidoscope of his mind. This morning it had all been about Seth. How is he; why can't I spend the day with him; well, when can I visit him in the hospital? Now – now I don't know anything. The kaleidoscope has rotated and all the pieces of Ryan's new life have turned upside down. They've shifted into different patterns that he feared might be permanent. Patterns that no longer had a place for him in Seth's life.
Anna had given him a report on Seth from her visit this afternoon. She'd been upbeat and positive about Seth's physical progress and all too correct in her description of the way in which Summer had moved in and taken over Seth's life. If he'd only made it up to the hospital today, he'd have more than her second hand report. Ryan grimaced. If his conversation with Seth hadn't gone so badly, he'd know how his friend was right now. The fear nagged at Ryan that maybe their talk had done more than just upset Seth. His rational self argued, however, that no one ever died of confusion, hurt and disappointment, at least outside nineteenth century romances.
Ryan's grip on the glass tightened and he swirled the glass letting the ice stir his drink. He took a swallow. Leaning back into the pillows, he watched the play of shadows across the ceiling of the poolhouse. His bedside lamp and the intermittent flashes of lightening from the storm outside caused fantastic shadows to form and dissolve overhead. If Seth were here tonight, what would he see in those shadows? What crazy stories would he create out of them to interrupt my studying, make me laugh or just drive me crazy? He says I'm too serious, spend too much time studying and don't allow myself enough Ryan time. That's easy for him to say. Ryan drained the last of his drink. He doesn't have to prove to anyone that he belongs at Harbor.
The ringing of the telephone interrupted his thoughts. Ryan rolled his head to the left and squinted at the phone considering what his response to another phone call should be. Frowning, he rolled toward the phone. Setting his glass down carefully on the stand, he grabbed the handset.
"What?" Ryan snapped. He assumed it was one of the jerks from Harbor having another joke at his expense. Tonight he didn't care what kind of call they were visiting him with: obscene, "helpful" advice, or dead air. After his calls from Summer and Seth, Ryan welcomed the opportunity to unload on someone. The anonymous callers who made his life so interesting out of class could be on the receiving end this time.
"Ryan? Are you okay? I woke you. I'm so sorry." The voice on the other end was apologetic.
God, why is Kirsten calling? "No, it's cool. I wasn't asleep. I had some calls earlier tonight…" He paused. He couldn't go with the truth with Kirsten, not tonight. "…Some crank calls. I thought you were another one." His mind abruptly jumped from his own depressed thoughts to a different more frightening thought. "Is Seth okay?"
"Seth's fine, Ryan. He's sleeping like an angel. Oh, you won't tell him I said that about him, will you? He'd kill both of us, you know, me for saying it and you because you heard me say it." Ryan could hear her smile.
"I came out to check on you. Seth's been asking about you all day. I think he was on the verge of ordering us all out to search for you this afternoon when Summer arrived and distracted him." Ryan wasn't sure if he heard amusement or sarcasm in Kirsten's voice as she continued. "Summer certainly takes his mind off everything else when she's around."
"Seth started to worry about you again this evening when you didn't make it to the hospital for dinner. I had to promise him during our walk around the floor that either Sandy or I would check on you tonight. Just in the time that it took us to make one circuit of the floor I think he asked me about you three times. When Sandy didn't call, I thought I'd better check myself."
"I'm really fine, Kirsten. Haven't seen Sandy tonight but this storm is a monster. Traffic must be awful on the freeways."
"Damn! That wasn't directed at you Ryan but at my MIA husband." Ryan didn't care who it was meant for as long as it took Kirsten's mind off him. "Sandy was only going to stop at the restaurant for a few minutes before going home. He must have gotten delayed there. He should have been home an hour ago. Did you eat anything tonight, Ryan?"
Kirsten's change of topic took Ryan by surprise. "Yeah." He thought about the cereal and juice he'd had before Seth's call. "I fixed myself something."
"Cereal?" Kirsten's voice held a mix of irritation and concern.
"Breakfast of champions," Ryan offered weakly.
"Oh, Ryan. I'm no cook but even I can manage to warm soup and make grilled cheese. You ought to have had something better than cold cereal. I wish…"
"Yeah, I know, but you're where you need to be; and I can take care of myself. I'm not Seth." He didn't want Kirsten feeling sorry for him and her chuckle reassured him.
Kirsten had not, however, forgotten how he answered the telephone and zeroed right back in on that. "Ryan, tell me about these calls you've gotten. You've never mentioned them before."
You wouldn't have heard anything about them tonight if I'd been thinking more clearly. Ryan silently cursed himself for breaking one of the cardinal rules: give no more information to parents than they need to have. "They're nothing. If I weren't tired they wouldn't have gotten under my skin so much tonight." Drop it Kirsten. Please!
"It's not nothing, Ryan, if these calls are bothering you. Sandy and I will take care of it." Sounding very much like the senior executive she was, she continued. "There are several things we can do. We'll change the telephone number for the poolhouse again and make sure it's unlisted. We changed it when Hailey moved out the last time. We can add Caller ID to that line. There are also laws against harassment. What sort of calls have you gotten, Ryan? When did they start? How often do you get them?"
This is just getting better and better. "Kirsten, you're starting to sound like Sandy. Chill out. It's not a big deal, really. There were only a couple tonight. The phone rings and no-one is on the other end." Hoping to lighten the mood, he added, "There's not even any heavy breathing. Mostly, that's all it ever is." Damn! Damn! Damn! Where did that come from?
"Mostly, Ryan? There's more?"
Ryan heard the suspicion in Kirsten's voice and wished that it were undeserved. But he knew that the truth was that he did keep things to himself. He kept secrets - secrets that didn't affect anyone but him. He had always fought his own battles. How could he do anything else now? The Cohens had learned this and, even after Oliver, they tried to allow him space. Sandy and Kirsten couldn't help him with the idiots at Harbor. Seth had never gone to his parents for help. He'd toughed it out.
Why would Ryan ask for help? The harassment had all been petty, irritating stuff by Chino standards. A bunch of toy cars, name calling by some and the silent treatment by others, a collection of Chino shirts, and "accidental" bumping in the halls and on the soccer field at school were the best they had come up with. Ryan was too much of an unknown quantity for them to push him too hard. It had never occurred to Seth to push back; but with Ryan they couldn't tell what might be too much.
Now Ryan had a box full of toy cars in his closet waiting for the Christmas toy drive at St. Theresa's alongside of a box of Chino shirts. Seth suggested to Ryan that he cut the sleeves out of the shirts and make wifebeaters or else turn them into a Harbor memory quilt. (The satisfying whump of Ryan's pillow smacking into Seth's face and the sight of him plucking feathers out of his curls had been Ryan's response to his helpfulness.)
The rest was laughable. The name-calling and silent treatment would only have been effective if Ryan had wanted to be one of them. It had worked on Seth because of his desperate desire to be accepted and on Luke because of the abruptness of his fall and his hunger to regain his place at Harbor. None of this was important to Ryan. The harassment was tiring and left him edgy; but it was nothing that Kirsten needed to hear about with Seth still in the hospital. Damage control, Atwood. Damage control.
Tonight Kirsten was pressing for answers. Maybe it was all about the accident and what a close call Seth and he had had; but tonight she wasn't letting up on him. He'd tell her about the calls but not about the stuff at school.
"Sometimes the calls are obscene. Other times the voices on the phone suggest that Newport isn't my kind of place and offer "helpful" suggestions about where I do belong." Ryan tried to play it light. If he had to tell Kirsten anything, it would be the bare minimum. "The calls began in the Fall and I get one once or twice a week. The guys were just a little friskier than usual tonight."
"Have you recognized any of the voices?"
He thought about her question and wondered how she could expect him to answer. He wished he were having this conversation with Sandy. He was a guy. Even though Sandy wouldn't have approved, he would have understood Ryan's dilemma and why he said what he did. "No."
"I'm sorry that you've had to deal with this by yourself, Ryan. If you'd come to us about this earlier…" She let her sentence trail off. "Does Seth know about the calls?" Suspicion was back in her voice.
"No, Seth doesn't know. He thinks I just get a lot of wrong numbers." He tried to keep irritation out of his voice. "Since Summer came into his life, things that don't concern Seth directly don't interest him very much."
"Sandy and I will start work on this problem tomorrow."
"Thanks." He appreciated her concern and tried to show it in his voice.
Who was he kidding? He loved Sandy and Kirsten for the concern and the kindnesses they'd shown him but he wasn't their son. Seth would always come first. That was okay with him. It was how it should be. Summer was right. He was a street punk who got lucky. Sure, Sandy saw himself in Ryan and wanted to give him the same chance he'd been given; and, Kirsten, he didn't know why she wanted him here except to please the men in her life. But, bottom line, he was here because Seth wanted him here and he'd be gone if that ever changed. He and Seth weren't brothers. They didn't have to work out their differences because they were blood. In his case you could ditch one of your kids because the other one had a grudge against him. If Seth decided he believed Summer's version of today's events he'd be history.
Ryan was drawn out of his thoughts by Kirsten's words "It's very odd about Summer though.
"What's odd?" This interested Ryan.
"Seth sent me down to the cafeteria for ice-cream after our walk. It was his not too subtle way of having a last few minutes alone with Summer before visiting hours ended. He was happy when I left for the cafeteria and despondent when I got back. I asked him if he'd had a fight with Summer." At Ryan's groan, Kirsten laughed. "I know, totally uncool and not 'need to know' for a mom. Seth was in such a strange mood and had such a sad face that I had to ask. I gave him a hug along with his ice cream." The groan was louder this time. "Ryan, he looked as though he'd lost his best friend!"
"Was it a fight with Summer?" Ryan asked quietly. He sat forward in bed, his legs crossed beneath him.
"Seth, wouldn't say. In fact Seth wouldn't say anything." Ryan heard amazement in Kirsten's voice. "He ate his ice cream, told me good night, and then turned on his side and went to sleep. I don't know what to make of it. I envy him his ability to turn off whatever's worrying him and sleep." Ryan agreed silently. "He didn't get that ability from either his father or me. But this is so unlike him that it makes me wonder if something is physically wrong. If he's displaying some delayed reaction to his injuries, I should tell his doctors."
"I'm sure it's nothing like that." He didn't want his conflict with Seth freaking out the whole family. "Give him some time. See how he is tomorrow before you go to his doctors."
"Ryan, I was wondering, does Seth ever talk to you about Summer?" At Ryan's explosion of laughter, Kirsten rephrased the question. "I mean you're his best friend. Has he ever mentioned any serious problems they have that might have come up tonight?"
"No. I don't think there's anything about her he dislikes. I don't know what they could have argued about, if that's what happened." Ryan yawned into the receiver. "Kirsten, I'm kind of tired."
"Oh, of course, Ryan. I'm sorry. If you see that husband of mine before you go to sleep, tell him to call me. Oh, and Ryan, Seth wasn't the only one who missed seeing you this evening."
"Thanks. Are you going to get some sleep yourself now?"
"No. I've got a ton of paperwork I brought over from the office today. I'm going to spread out here in the waiting room with my laptop and try to make a dent in it. Doing an all-nighter is a better idea than trusting my back to that hospital rollaway another night. You get some sleep now. It'll be good to have you here tomorrow. Ryan, I know if anything can get Seth out of this mood he's in it's seeing you."