Protection – Epilogue
Kirsten sat in one of the patio chairs, watching the men in her life float lazily around the pool. Seth, Sandy and Ryan talked languidly as they drifted. Occasionally, she heard muffled laughter or the sound of Ryan's soft sardonic voice. It had been such a long, hard summer. It was a relief and a joy to watch them together. She smiled and dropped her eyes to the book she was reading.
In the background she heard someone, Sandy, she realized, get out of the pool. He went into the kitchen and came back out with the chicken they'd marinated for the grill. He put the meat on and went to stand on the edge of the pool talking to Seth. Kirsten looked up and paused, enjoying the sight of her husband and her son easy in each other's company.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kirsten caught sight of Ryan pulling himself slowly out of the pool. She watched him ease stealthily toward Sandy, just out of Sandy's range of vision. Her eyes went back to Sandy and Seth, and she saw Seth's gaze flick to Ryan before settling back on his father. The corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, and Kirsten saw the mischief in her son's eyes. Kirsten bit back a laugh and hid behind her book, watching as Ryan snuck up on her husband. Sandy, totally absorbed in whatever conversational gambit Seth had dragged him into, was oblivious. Seth ran his hands through the water, subtly shifting the position of his float until he was no longer directly in front of his father. Sandy had just turned his torso slightly to adjust to Seth's change in position when the flat of Ryan's hands struck him solidly in the back.
Caught completely unaware, Sandy staggered, arms flailing, into the pool. Seth's and Ryan's screams of laughter surely carried under the surface, because Sandy erupted from the water, slinging water out of his eyes, and already reaching for Seth's float. His hand caught the arm of the chair, and he jerked down, flipping Seth into the water. Seth's howls were drowned as he went under and Sandy got a grip, holding his struggling son down. Seth slipped from Sandy's grasp and surfaced, his laughter ringing out as he made for the side of the pool.
Ryan was grinning, backing away from the pool, but he'd been distracted by Seth, and he missed Sandy as his foster father vaulted out of the pool, putting himself between Ryan and escape into the house. Ryan froze, eyes going from Sandy to Seth and back to Sandy. He was crouched, heart pounding, as he cast about for a way around Sandy.
"Oh, yeah, kid." Sandy mimicked Ryan's posture, spreading his arms in anticipation of Ryan's trying to get past him. "You are so dead."
Ryan backed carefully away. And then broke and ran.
Sandy gave chase, and the two of them slipped and skittered around the pool area, both almost wiping out several times. As Ryan dodged Sandy again, and headed toward Kirsten, she stood up abruptly, ready to put an end to the game before either of them got hurt.
"That's enough!"
Ryan made a split decision and instead of changing direction – or stopping – he ducked behind Kirsten, putting her between him and Sandy. Kirsten could hear the labored breathing and gasping laughter behind her and instinctively she spread her arms as she faced her husband.
"Sandy."
"Move out of the way, woman. He's mine."
Ryan's fingers touched Kirsten's shoulders lightly, as he crouched behind her. "Kirsten," he pled, and she could hear the giggle in his voice.
Sandy was advancing, and Kirsten moved back, still keeping herself between Sandy and Ryan.
"Let's be reasonable."
"No."
Kirsten laughed out loud. "Sandy!"
"The boy pushed me in the water, Kirsten. Vengeance must be exacted."
"Vengeance?" Kirsten arched an eyebrow at him. "Exacted? Sandy, please."
As Kirsten tried to negotiate with Sandy, Ryan peeked around her and caught Seth's eye. Seth raised his eyebrows at Ryan, eyes going from Kirsten to the pool and back again, an evil grin splitting his face. Ryan shook his head. No. Seth was nodding enthusiastically, eyebrows wriggling wildly. Come on, man! he mouthed. The nodding got more emphatic. Ryan ducked back behind Kirsten again, resting his forehead briefly against her shoulder blade, struggling to resist the siren call of Seth's eyebrows. Crap.
"Sandy, no!" Kirsten was giggling as she wrapped her arms back around Ryan. "Leave him alone!"
"Oh, he's mine," Sandy menaced, and, with a sudden burst of speed, closed the gap between himself and Kirsten. He reached both arms around Kirsten and engulfed both his wife and Ryan in a tight embrace. "Now, you're both going in."
Kirsten gave a startled scream, and Ryan's yelp of surprise became a shout of laughter, as he felt Sandy's hands scrabbling for hold on his shoulders. He made himself go limp, staggering Sandy as the older man suddenly found himself dealing with a recalcitrant anchor in Ryan.
Not in the least dissuaded by Ryan's disapproval of his plan, Seth joined the melee, wrapping a hand around Kirsten's wrist, working with his father to force his mother toward the pool. Seth trusted that Ryan would, as always, get with the program if Seth just got things rolling in the right direction.
Kirsten's shriek of protest at Seth's attack goaded on her husband and her dark headed son, and they laughed, both shifting their grips, angling for a better hold.
Jump-started by Kirsten's cry for help, Ryan, still wet from the pool, finally managed to wriggle out of Sandy's tenuous grasp. Slipping free, Ryan now wrapped an arm around Kirsten's midriff and held on. Reaching out, he clamped his free hand around Seth's wrist, where the other boy had managed to get a grip on his mother's arm. Squeezing hard, and digging a thumb into the tender underside of the wrist, Ryan made Seth let go with a yell.
"Hey! Ow!"
Sandy turned his head sharply, instinctively following the yelp of pain from his son, and Kirsten, seeing an opening, brought her foot down hard on Sandy's instep. More surprised than hurt, Sandy still let go of Kirsten to steady himself as he fell back. Ryan jerked her clear, and the two of them sprinted to the relative safety of the patio close to the kitchen. Putting themselves behind the table and chairs, they struggled to catch their breath, while Sandy and Seth regrouped.
"Dude." Seth was shaking his head, rubbing his wrist and wincing. "You're taking Mom's side against your own brother? That's just wrong."
Sandy steadied himself against Seth, hopping on one foot and rotating his ankle. "Honey, you wound me."
Kirsten ignored her husband, though she kept a wary eye on him, and turned to Ryan, who was watching Seth and Sandy intently, a small, and she'd have to say, slightly smug smile on his face. Now, he turned to meet her gaze, the smirk still in place; she could tell he was waiting to see what she wanted to do.
Kirsten looked casually over at her son and her husband, who had turned their backs on their prey, and were whispering animatedly to each other. Fools! She thought, mentally rubbing her hands together.
"They're awfully close to the edge, don't you think?" She barely moved her lips, and Ryan had to strain to catch the words. His eyes darted poolside, and back to her. The grin that split his face thrilled her to her core. Eyes wide with anticipation and the taste of sweet victory, he nodded, moving quickly, Kirsten right behind him.
Seth and Sandy were so engrossed in their plans that they didn't see Ryan and Kirsten coming until it was too late.
xxxx
Later that night Kirsten sat at the kitchen table and listened to the sound of the boys rehashing the events from the afternoon. She could hear the aggrieved sound of Seth's recitation and the rumble of Ryan's good-natured responses. A burst of easy laughter from Ryan made her head turn, and Kristen smiled as Ryan came into the kitchen trailed by an agitated Seth. Ryan gave Kirsten a quick conspiratorial grin as he passed her, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of water on his way to the back door.
Catching sight of the exchange, Seth protested, "Ryan. Dude. You cannot align yourself with the Kirsten! How are we going to take over the household if you're not with me on this!" Ryan kept walking. "Seriously." Seth hurried to catch up. And the conversation continued out of Kirsten's hearing.
Her eyes followed the boys across the patio to the pool house. It was no longer Ryan's room – he was in the house for good – but Seth had claimed it as a place for the two of them to "escape" the "oppression" of the big house on occasion. Kirsten and Sandy were willing to allow Seth the illusion of control over that space. For now.
The interaction between the boys had changed subtly since the summer. Kirsten had realized recently that Ryan, for all the appearance of alpha male he seemed to project, really was quite passive in his relationship with Seth. It had been Seth who had driven their friendship - who had made plans, who had had ideas. Ryan had been content to follow Seth's lead in most areas, especially in the boys' relationship with Kirsten and Sandy. Since he'd moved back home, Ryan had become more proactive in reaching out to the adult Cohens, a sign, they both realized, of his increasing confidence in his place with them. He'd also begun to hold his ground with Seth; a fact that was befuddling the youngest Cohen to no end.
It was ironic, Kirsten thought, that just as Seth was beginning to assert his independence from his parents, he got a brother who was learning to be dependent on parents for the first time. As Seth was struggling to pull away from them, Ryan was recognizing that he needed them, that he wanted them. Where Seth was determined to make decisions on his own, Ryan sought out Sandy and Kirsten, haltingly asking their opinion, listening, processing. It didn't mean he always followed their advice, but they both recognized the fact that he asked was significant.
Kirsten marveled at this new child she'd been given in the weeks since the letter from Theresa had arrived. The change had been gradual, but steady, a slow revelation of a Ryan she had seen glimpses of in the past, but was now being granted full access to. She was stunned.
xxxx
The night he'd cried himself to sleep, Sandy had found her still stroking Ryan's hair almost two hours after he'd drifted off. She couldn't bring herself to leave, and there hadn't been a reason to until Sandy had stuck his head in the door when he'd come home.
"Hey," he'd whispered. "Everything OK?"
"I'm afraid to move," she'd whispered back. Sandy crossed the room to the bed, and kissed her softly on the mouth.
"Is he OK?" He reached down, skimming his own hand over Ryan's head.
"Tough day."
He nodded.
"Need some help getting him settled?"
"I don't want to wake him up."
Sandy smiled fondly at her. "Honey."
She sighed. "I know."
She slipped a gentle hand under Ryan's cheek holding his head level as she moved her leg out from under it. Slowly she lowered him to the bed while she stood. Easing her hand free, she paused to see if he'd wake. He didn't. She stepped back and Sandy stepped forward.
"Hey, kiddo." He put a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Let's get you under the covers." Ryan gave a heavy sigh and sluggishly sat up. Sandy guided him up and back down, placing his head on the pillow. Sandy worked the bedspread and sheets out from under him, while Kirsten stripped him of his boots and socks. Ryan didn't stir.
Sandy draped the covers over Ryan's inert form, and they tiptoed out of the room, shutting the door softly behind them.
Sandy draped an arm over his wife's shoulder. "Want to tell me about the tough day?"
She had told him what she thought she should, trusting that Ryan would tell Sandy anything else he wanted him to know.
The next morning, Ryan had come downstairs late, sitting at the table and eating his breakfast without saying a word. He didn't speak unless directly addressed for the next three days. Kirsten had hovered anxiously around him, trying not to fuss, but uncertain what to do. Ryan had accepted her presence, even seemed to welcome it, and Sandy tried to reassure her.
"Honey, give him some time. He's figuring things out in his own way." He paused. "Frankly, I think it's a good sign he hasn't tried to kill you, given the way you've been smothering him." She'd slapped at him and walked out of the room.
The turning point came the evening of the fourth day. Seth was rambling about some new comic that was coming out the following day, and Kirsten was fighting the urge to let her head drop dramatically into her soup, when Ryan spoke.
"I think I'll go out for soccer this fall."
Three heads swiveled toward him.
Sandy started laughing at the utter unexpectedness of the comment, and Kirsten struggled not to do the same thing. The Cohens looked at each other.
"It speaks!" Seth crowed.
"OK, sweetie," she said gently to Ryan, making shushing motions at Seth.
She glanced at Sandy and back at Ryan.
"Is it time to register?"
Ryan looked at her in surprise. "No."
"O.K." Kirsten was confused.
"I just was thinking about it and I thought I'd tell you."
Sandy nodded solemnly.
"Good idea."
He was biting back a smile, but made the mistake of looking at Kirsten, who started to giggle. Relief and amusement and a sudden drop in the tension that had filled the house for weeks sent them over the edge. Sandy's smile became a laugh, and his laugh a guffaw, Kirsten's own giggles turned into gasps of laughter, and she leaned over the table, clutching her head in her hands.
Ryan stared at them like they were crazy, and looked at Seth for confirmation that the adults had, indeed, gone around the bend. But Seth was grinning at him like a madman.
"Dang, bro. Non-sequitor much?" And started to laugh.
Ryan sat at the table as Seth and Sandy and Kirsten cried in hysterics. His face was so bewildered, and frankly, pissed, that whichever of the Cohens looked at him went into new gales of laughter. It was a vicious cycle they seemed helpless to stop.
Ryan glared at them all, his scowl fixed.
It was Kirsten ultimately, who managed to get herself under control.
"Honey, I'm sorry." She reached out and put a hand on his arm, even as she wiped the tears from her face with the other. "We just... You've hardly said anything in days, and Seth was going on and on and on about some silly comic book..."
"Hey!"
"... and then suddenly you start talking about soccer and the fall like, well, like...," she was smiling at him and petting him coaxingly, and abruptly he realized how oddly out of place his declaration had been. He ducked his head and grinned sheepishly at her.
"Oh." He looked sideways at Sandy and Seth. "Sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry for, kid," Sandy said happily. Seth nodded his head in giddy agreement.
Kirsten got up, and taking Ryan's face in both her hands, kissed him lightly on the top of his head. "We'll get you signed up for soccer in the fall."
xxxx
Kirsten traced Ryan's slow journey toward them from that moment, and Kirsten and Sandy had watched the transformation in Ryan in wonder. He was still the same watchful, thoughtful boy he'd always been, but the funny, open kid they'd seen flashes of made more frequent, longer appearances. More and more now, that watchfulness was observation instead of wariness.
The first indication they'd gotten of the change had been his increased teasing of Seth. It had gone unnoticed initially, because he was Ryan, and the jibes were subtle, but Kirsten began to recognize a certain glint in his eyes just before the zingers were launched. Sometimes they stopped the flow of words from Seth abruptly, sometimes they changed the words to giggles or laughs, and sometimes they made Sandy and Kirsten look at Ryan in surprised admiration, the sharpness and timing of his comments striking with precision accuracy.
Kirsten realized how far he'd come now that she found herself on the receiving end of Ryan's humor occasionally. He was gentler with her, but the twinkle in his eyes was the same. And she loved it.
xxxx
Kirsten was still working at the kitchen table when Ryan wandered back into the room. She glanced at the clock.
"Are you still up?" She frowned slightly as she looked up.
Ryan shrugged, reaching for a glass. He shuffled groggily to the freezer to get ice.
Kirsten put her pen down as she considered his back.
"Are you having a hard time sleeping?"
He shrugged again, heading to the sink to fill up his glass with water. He took a long drink as he looked out the window.
"What are you working on?" Turning, he joined her at the table, sleepily surveying the mess.
She sighed as she looked at the stacks of paper spread out in front of her. Kirsten ran her hands through her hair, willing – for the moment – to let him distract her.
"It's the Corona project." Exhausted, she let her arms fall to the table and rested her forehead on the hard surface between them. "I hate it."
Ryan laughed softly. "You've been working on it a lot, that's for sure."
She turned her head to look at him, raising her head to rest her cheek on her bicep.
"I know. I'm sorry."
"I wasn't..."
Kirsten sat up. "I know you weren't, sweetie. Just working mother guilt. Ignore me."
She surveyed the clutter in front of her.
"I'm done." Groaning, she stood, trying to work out the kinks in her back with some bending contortions. "Are you ready to go back up?"
Nodding his acquiescence, Ryan rose, draining his glass. He put it in the dishwasher and flipped off the kitchen lights.
When they got to the top of the stairs, Kirsten preceded Ryan into his room, turning on the bedside lamp as she approached the bed. Without thought, she straightened his sheets and comforter, fluffing his pillow before she turned. Picking up the empty glass on his bedside table, she went into the bathroom as Ryan climbed drowzily into bed. Kirsten considered the tumbler as she filled it with water. She wondered what sent him down to the kitchen when he had a glass by his bed. Rooting around the medicine cabinet, she found the appropriate bottle and shook a couple of Advil into her palm. Returning, she held out the tablets and glass.
"I don't have a headache," Ryan said even as he reached out a hand to her. He threw the pills into his mouth, swallowing them with a gulp of water before he put the glass back on the table.
"I know. But sometimes a couple of aspirin will take the edge off."
He nodded and lay back down, rolling over on his side, so that he was facing the door. Kirsten turned off the light and sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing the comforter over him.
"Did you have a bad dream?" she asked softly, her hand still resting gently on his shoulder.
She thought for a moment that he wouldn't respond, but then, in the darkness, she could just see the answer in the halting movement of his head, feel it in the shuddering of his shoulder under her hand.
"I can always tell when Seth has bad dreams. When he was younger, he used to come get in bed with us." Ryan could hear her voice soften with the memory, and the knot in his stomach, an after-effect of the dream, loosened some more. "When he got older, he started finding one of us when we were working late. Or he'd just come into our room and wake us up to ask weird questions – did we turn the iron off? When was the last time the pool got chlorinated? Who invented liquid soap and why?" She shook her head and smiled, feeling the answering shake of Ryan's shoulder as he snickered.
They were quiet for a minute, and in the safety of the dark, Ryan whispered. "I like knowing that you're there." He paused and Kirsten held her breath. "Lots of times mom wasn't. I'd go look for her and she wouldn't be there, wouldn't be home. Or someone else would be there."
Kirsten moved her hand from his shoulder to his head, soothing.
"We'll always be here," she said.
"I know."
"Good."
Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek.
"Goodnight, sweetie."
"Goodnight."
The door closed behind her, and Ryan pulled the covers up to his chin, his eyes sliding shut as he drifted back to sleep.
And in his dream, the gray coldness of the juvenile detention center began to shimmer and change, golden light piercing the walls as they dissolved. He was by the pool with Sandy and Seth and Kirsten. And in the odd way of dreams, his perspective wavered, and he saw Kirsten, her arms spread, standing between him and the grayness as it receded into nothingness.
The End