He traipses warily up the too-familiar steps. As much as Ryan wants to be here, he doesn't want to get a glimpse of the life he could be having, only to have it taken away again.
So it is with a reluctant heart that Ryan knocks lightly on Kirsten's door. He is worried about disturbing her.
"What, Sandy?" She sounds weary. Ryan clears his throat. "It's not Sandy. It's Ryan."
"Ryan?" Her voice is suddenly hopeful. "Come in."
So he does. He pushes open the door, and there she is, in bed, looking the plainest Ryan's ever seen her. Her face is un-made up and her eyes red, as though she's been crying for days on end. She's under the covers, in some kind of nightgown (Ryan assumes), and there's a box of tissues sitting on the nightstand next to her. Of course, she never really looks plain, not even now: she's still Kirsten, of course, and she always looks beautiful.
"Hey," Ryan says softly, not knowing where to look. This feels strangely intimate, which makes him uncomfortable.
"Hey," she replies, matching his tone. Something has happened to her since he left. Her eyes seem duller, somehow, like his and Seth's leaving has zapped the energy out of them. He remembers thinking of her eyes as alive. He wouldn't describe them that way now.
How could we do this to her? he wonders, a bit sickened. It's not like neither of us had a choice. It's the first time he's admitted to himself that he didn't actually have to leave, but chose to. Even if it didn't (and still doesn't) feel like a choice.
Enough. He forces himself to be here, with his mother.
"Are you okay?"
"I am now." Her glowing smile convinces him that he definitely made the right choice in coming back for the summer.
He grins back. "I missed you."
"Oh, Ryan." She pats the bed. "Come, sit." He does.
"I'm just here for the summer," he tells her. Her smile fades, but only a little. The important thing is that he's here now. "I promise I'll keep in touch when I go back to Chino." If Kirsten notices that he says "Chino" and not "home," she doesn't mention it.
"Of course you will," she responds, as if the idea of letting him go completely has never occurred to her. "You're our son, aren't you?"
Damn it. Being here hurts. "Yeah." A tear wells up in his eye and he has to turn away from her. What happened to not showing emotion? Since when does Ryan Atwood cry?
"I'll be right back," he says, running to the bathroom to get rid of the lone tear before it makes itself obvious. When he gets back to Sandy and Kirsten's room, she's up and dressed.
"Want to go out for lunch?"
"I'd love to," Ryan says.
"Great. Let me just grab a purse. Where's Sandy?"
"Still downstairs, probably."
"Oh. Well, can you get him? Where do you want to go?"
"I don't know."
"Okay, we'll figure it out." He turns to go. "Ryan?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you," she says softly.
He doesn't know what to say to that, so he nods at her and goes to find Sandy.