Glad you all liked my first installment. I am very much the detailed writer. A man once said there's only three ways to write: The Write Way, The Wrong Way, and The Hemingway, which I don't really go by. Jokes aside, thanks for all of your support. Most of you commented that you liked my Marissa! (Grins widely) Kudos goes to you because she is so hard to characterize, as was Theresa. On the other hand, Ryan, Seth, and Summer are extremely easy. In this chapter, you'll see Sandy and Kirsten and Newport. Anways,

On with the show . . . .

It was one of those moments where a pop song should've been playing in the background. Yes, Simon and Garfunkel definitely should have been harmonizing that very moment. However, Ryan Atwood thought he heard a choir singing when Marissa pulled her mom's new Mercedes in the driveway of Sandy and Kirsten Cohen. To him, even the mailbox looked like home.

"Home Sweet Newport." Marissa called, as she pushed the button to automatically lock the vehicle.

The three walked passed the in-ground swimming pool to the glass doors in the back that entered the kitchen. All three felt that this was home enough and the formal front door was not necessary.

When the door closed, Kirsten Cohen, who was working at the breakfast table, immediately popped her head up from her paper work. She stood up and tears fell from her eyes. She hadn't seen her "son" in several months.

"My Baby!" She exclaimed tearfully, wrapping her lymph arms around Ryan's neck and even kissed him on the cheek, "Don't you ever leave this house again!"

"Kirsten, I'm just here for the weekend."

She inwardly screamed to herself when she was finally able to zip up her suitcase. Seth had decided that this was his last maiden voyage on the Summer Breeze, and he and Summer were packing up to catch a plane for there home in Orange County. Seth had sold his boat to a Jamaican shrimper for five grand, and he was given the money in cash. Seth had already finished packing now he was waiting for Summer who had been trying desperately to zip up her suitcase now for what he had guessed to be thirty-five minutes. He thought she was going to have a coronary, but she was cute when she was angry. Moreover, she did complain that he was not about to break the zipper on her finely crafted Louis Vuitton extra large travel bag. Finally, the suitcase was successfully closed and they were heading down to the lobby to hand in their keys and eventually head to the airport.

"Where to, Mon!" The old, taxi driver asked after finishing off the first verse of Bob Marley's No Woman, No Cry.

"Airport." Seth stated, putting his arm around Summer.

"Where you from, Mon?"

"California." Summer answered.

"Boy, you two got a long flight 'head of you. Which part of Cali?"

"Orange County. Newport Beach, actually. You should come see it sometime. It's beautiful, and the surfing is gnarly if I do say so myself." Seth replied, highlighting his geek self by using surfing jargon.

The driver laughed.

"Cohen, remind me to hurt you later for saying the word gnarly. Nice Jewish boys do not say gnarly or tubular or any other type of So-Cal surfing lingo."

"My Dad surfs."

"Your Dad desperately needs an eyebrow wax."

" It's the Cohen curse, Summer. We've talked about the eyebrow issue."

" I'm ready to prepare myself for having children with uni-brows. That's what hot wax is for. What I am not prepared for is having little half-Jewish children running around smoking hookah pipes saying 'surf's up, Dude', all while listening to The Very Best of The Grateful Dead!"

"Oy Vey!" Seth exclaimed, slapping his forehead with his head.

The driver once again chuckled at his mannerism.

"God, Seth, now, I know your Jewish! I think you and the Nana have been spending a little too much time together."

" You know how much I love macaroons." He smirked.

The driver finely spoke again, "How long have the two of you been married? What made you choose the islands for your anniversary."

Summer immediately answered, "Us? Married? We'd kill each other before we got to the reception! On second thought, I'd kill him before the rabbi would say, 'you may now kiss your bride' because he's so clumsy he'd step all over my Vera Wang gown and Jimmy Choo silk, white pumps. Then, we'd be having a funeral."

"I just 'summed because you talk 'bout children, Mon!" The driver said to his rearview mirror, all while chuckling some more.

"That wouldn't happen. She's just misanthropic."

"I'm not misanthropic. I'm just being realistic."

"See?" Seth pointed out to the driver, "Extremely misanthropic. She argues with every word I say."

"I do not!"

"You do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"I hate to interrupt your tiff, but we at the airport!"

"Shut up!" They both yelled at the driver.

"Don't yell at him!"Summer exclaimed.

"You yelled first!" He fired.

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did NOT!"

"You did so!"

"Did not. I got the last laugh, and we're at the airport!. Dammit, Get my bags!" She stated, childishly sticking her tongue out at him. "I'm going to Starbucks!"

He watched her stomp off for a latté, hearing the noise from her Chlöe beaded bag the whole way. Putting her carry-on over his shoulder and observing her shake her hips in anger, he knew that this girl was special and hoped that one day they would have those precious half-Jewish beach bums with their father's eyebrows (and love of comics and Playstation 2) and their mother's gorgeous eyes.

Out of all the sharp edges, marble counter tops, and cold stainless steel, there was definitely a lot of love in the Cohen kitchen, especially on this night. Sandy, Kirsten, Marissa, Ryan, and Theresa sat around the dining room table fumbling with chopsticks and laughing over Kirsten's infamous Chinese takeout. You would have thought that the situation between the three teens would have been tense, but it was quite the opposite. Things hadn't been that way in a very long time. After Sandy made a joke about Theresa eating more moo goo gai pan than anyone else as well as Kirsten giving him an impromptu swing at his head, they all agreed to bring out the fortune cookies.

"I'll go first since I'm the patriarch." Sandy said proudly, opening the package and cracking the cookie shell, "' You'll have wealth beyond your imagination, but achieving it cannot be done dishonestly. Trust your friends.' Wow."

"I'll go now," Kirsten opened her cookie and took out the slip of paper, "' Don't become too anxious. It gives bad chi. Be zen. Life will work itself out if you'll only let it.'"

It was Ryan's turn. "' Love is the most important part of your life. Be with those you love. It might pay off in the near future. '"

Marissa followed. "' Asking for help is okay. If you don't ask soon, you might regret it. '"

Ryan's forehead wrinkled while Marissa's eyes dilated on her fortune. Theresa then read hers, "' Being alone can teach you many things. Try independence.'"

They all sat silently with their hands folded in their laps, never wanting to reveal how they felt about getting their fortune told. Maybe Mr. Chang (and his handwritten fortunes) was Newport's only psychic.

Soon, the uncomfortable silence passed when the creak of the door opening was heard round the table. They all arose from the table to enter the kitchen to find a much tanner version of Seth Cohen with his still shaggy curls and a refined Summer Roberts looking much like Jackie O. with a Kors scarf tied in her hair and the classic black Chanel sunglasses covering her eyes, if only she had the perfect pillbox hat.

"What's everybody staring at? Do we not get a welcome home banner?" Summer exclaimed, only teasing while she lifted her sunglasses to rest on the top of her head.

As soon as the silence retired, Kirsten ran and tightly wrapped her arms around her son.

"Mom, you're cutting off my circulation . . .Mom . . .Mom!"

"Seth Cohen, you run off to sail around the Carribean for an entire summer and leave me a note! A note! You're my Son! I should at least be entitled to more than a note, dammit!"

He tried to muster a reason and apology, but alas, could not think of another. " I love you."

"Right," Kirsten rolled her eyes, " let's not settle on this right now. We have to go get ready for the party, tonight."

They all followed Kirsten's directions, and as soon as the room was cleared, Sandy came to his son and patted him on his back.

"Just because you're mother is thrilled to have you back safe and sound, doesn't mean I won't remind her about a punishment."

Seth attempted to give his father the look.

"That's pitiful, son. You are just not the brooding silent type."

Sandy chuckled as Seth rolled his eyes, and they both left the room to dress for Newport's party of the century, as Julie Nichol had been calling it.

Next chapter will be the big bash. As a heads up, I hope you paid close attention to the fortune cookies. I gave you a little tidbit of info there. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it. Seth and Summer are always extremely fun to write, especially when they're mad at each other. Next chapter, look for classic O.C. Someone's getting drunk, someone's getting thrown in the pool, someone will make a snide remark about someone else, and someone will definitely be the bitch! Peace, Love, and Cali- moi