I am so disappointed in muchtvs. I really thought she'd have my back if Josh ever decided to sue my ass. No way, no how. I'm on my own with my trailer, my waffle iron and my assorted crafts. Just to let you know "much", I also bring a blow torch to cook with when I camp. I'm not afraid to light a fire under your caboose...
I know it's a short chapter, but that's all I could come up with in the light of muchtv's betrayal. I'm so not feeling the love. sigh
All disclaimers are claimed.
Chapter Fourteen.
Sandy spent the night on the kitchen chair, watching Ryan sleep. He managed to send a text message to Seth, letting him know that he was going to stay the night. He would have loved to call Kirsten, but he was afraid any extra noise would wake Ryan up. The fact he'd stayed asleep so far had more to do with the pain pills than his ability to sleep soundly.
Sandy reflected on what the Salvation Army Chaplain had said to him. Not pithy sentiments but things to really consider.
Sandy now realized that he could never give Ryan his childhood back. He needed to swallow the fact that Ryan never had one. He was now a young adult.
Ryan wasn't Seth. If Seth had ADHD, he'd be the poster child. He had to accept that Ryan was more introspective, whether because of his nature or a trait acquired for survival purposes, this was who he is. He didn't need to be fixed. He needed to be accepted for himself.
It was also in Ryan's nature to help and if he did it as an attempt to repay the Cohens for what they did for him, they should let him. Allow him to feel he's contributing to the family.
The last bit of wisdom Jim imparted was directed at him.
"You know, it was pretty humbling for me when I realized I couldn't save the world, but I might be able to save it one kid at a time..."
Sandy recognized that Ryan had brought just as much into their lives as they had to his. These last weeks proved to him that the family had been incomplete prior to his joining them.
The sad thing?
He hadn't realized it before now.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kirsten spent a sleepless night in Sandy's hotel bed. Seth called her right after getting Sandy's message. Kirsten called her father who told her he'd make sure all the meetings were rescheduled and the job sites visited. The Newport Group would not fall apart while she took care of her family.
She had been more than a little shocked to find Seth and Summer in bed together. Seth's rambling explanation of falling asleep while watching tv rang true when she saw the Crest White Strips taped to both of their teeth. The empty box and wrappers littered the floor. The maternal death glare she leveled at Seth sent him scrambling out of Summer's bed and back into his own.
His lonely cot.
By himself.
There would be no sex in the "Champagne Room..."
Sandy found Ryan...
He was in the same room with their son. Not just a legal relationship between them and a teenaged boy, but their son.
The first time she had laid eyes on Ryan she locked away her feelings. She wouldn't allow herself to become emotionally involved with a child felon, no matter how polite he was. No matter of his inability to look at her directly.
He wasn't her son.
She added an extra lock on her heart when she found Seth in the pool house, drunk and beaten up. She wanted the delinquent out of her house.
He wasn't her son.
She felt a key trying to open the lock when she saw that he had made breakfast for them, even though he knew she'd told Sandy to take him back to Chino. He knew he didn't belong there. He'd only set the table for 3 that morning.
He wasn't her son.
Admiring the model of the home she was building, signing away his identity, accepting the new one assigned him by the state.
0382965.
Telling her it's okay.
He wasn't her son.
The fire at the model home, his coming back and taking responsibility for it.
He wasn't her son.
The fire scared her, just as it scared her when she witnessed Ryan putting himself in harm's way to protect her and her son when Seth talked her into visiting him in juvie.
Unlocking her heart and bringing him back to her home.
He wasn't her son.
He had a mother.
They needed to find her.
To give back her son.
Realizing the boy had nothing. Not even a change of underpants.
Bonding over small talk, her heart breaking when he told her that all he wanted to be was 17. Said in such a way that made her think he didn't' believe it was a realistic goal.
His mother didn't deserve a son.
A half-hearted attempt to dismiss years of guilt. A drunken night. A failed escape attempt.
A final abandonment.
He was now her son.
She couldn't imagine him not being with them. This last month had been a nightmare for all of them. She had wished the world would have stopped moving so she could find her son and bring him back home where he belonged.
Her son. Sandy's son. Seth's brother. Her two sons.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The curtains fluttered as the damp breeze blew through the open window. The rain had started again, falling hard. Ryan groaned and rolled over, his throbbing hand signaling the need for pharmaceutical relief.
Through his pain filled haze, he could make out the shape of someone slumped in a chair. His heart started beating faster. He tried to slow his breathing.
Fuck.
His mind had been so conditioned to perceive all unknown shadows as impending threats that his body automatically responded in panic.
That was his weakness to overcome. His Achilles heel.
He struggled to untangle his legs from the twisted blankets.
"Ryan?"
He kicked his legs harder, the blankets refusing to release him.
"Ryan... It's okay... It's only me..."
Sandy leaned over to turn on the light on the nightstand, trying to avoid the flailing limbs.
Ryan closed his eyes at the intrusion of light.
"It's alright... It's me, Sandy..."
Ryan opened his eyes again, only to snap them shut.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Good to see you too..." Sandy deadpanned.
Ryan succeeded in freeing his legs and stood up quickly, keeping the bed between him and Sandy.
"Why are you here?"
Sandy stepped forward. Ryan stepped back.
"I'm sorry... I screwed up..."
Fuck.... I can't deal with this right now, Ryan thought.
He moved from behind the bed.
"I want you to come home... Ryan.... Please.... I'm so sorry...."
Ryan clenched his fists. He could feel the pull of the stitches. Memories of the night in question came flooding back.
The accusations. The pain. The emptiness as he walked away, realizing that nothing in his life would change. It might be dressed up a little more, wrapped in a more expensive package, but it was the same shit and it always rained down on him.
Not anymore.
"I am home..."
Ryan walked out, closing the door behind him.
What brought Sandy Cohen back to reality was the way the apartment door closed quietly. It was almost inaudible. He sat down on the bed and buried his head in his hands, his elbows digging into his thighs.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Mandy watched as Ryan walked down the driveway, his t-shirt and sweatpants were already soaked. She had heard the hushed exchange between "Marty" and another man.
There were no secrets in an old house. Ancient air vents made sure of that.
Marty wasn't Marty.
He was Ryan, and he was hiding from something or someone.
Her "Mama Bear" instinct as Will called it was coming out in full force. She made sure the kids were safely asleep in their beds. Will was working the midnight shift and wouldn't be home for a couple of hours.
A low growl caused Sandy to look up. His eyes focused on a large black dog.
A large black dog in a white wife beater.
Why was Ryan sharing his wardrobe with a dog?
I know it's a short chapter, but that's all I could come up with in the light of muchtv's betrayal. I'm so not feeling the love. sigh
All disclaimers are claimed.
Chapter Fourteen.
Sandy spent the night on the kitchen chair, watching Ryan sleep. He managed to send a text message to Seth, letting him know that he was going to stay the night. He would have loved to call Kirsten, but he was afraid any extra noise would wake Ryan up. The fact he'd stayed asleep so far had more to do with the pain pills than his ability to sleep soundly.
Sandy reflected on what the Salvation Army Chaplain had said to him. Not pithy sentiments but things to really consider.
Sandy now realized that he could never give Ryan his childhood back. He needed to swallow the fact that Ryan never had one. He was now a young adult.
Ryan wasn't Seth. If Seth had ADHD, he'd be the poster child. He had to accept that Ryan was more introspective, whether because of his nature or a trait acquired for survival purposes, this was who he is. He didn't need to be fixed. He needed to be accepted for himself.
It was also in Ryan's nature to help and if he did it as an attempt to repay the Cohens for what they did for him, they should let him. Allow him to feel he's contributing to the family.
The last bit of wisdom Jim imparted was directed at him.
"You know, it was pretty humbling for me when I realized I couldn't save the world, but I might be able to save it one kid at a time..."
Sandy recognized that Ryan had brought just as much into their lives as they had to his. These last weeks proved to him that the family had been incomplete prior to his joining them.
The sad thing?
He hadn't realized it before now.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kirsten spent a sleepless night in Sandy's hotel bed. Seth called her right after getting Sandy's message. Kirsten called her father who told her he'd make sure all the meetings were rescheduled and the job sites visited. The Newport Group would not fall apart while she took care of her family.
She had been more than a little shocked to find Seth and Summer in bed together. Seth's rambling explanation of falling asleep while watching tv rang true when she saw the Crest White Strips taped to both of their teeth. The empty box and wrappers littered the floor. The maternal death glare she leveled at Seth sent him scrambling out of Summer's bed and back into his own.
His lonely cot.
By himself.
There would be no sex in the "Champagne Room..."
Sandy found Ryan...
He was in the same room with their son. Not just a legal relationship between them and a teenaged boy, but their son.
The first time she had laid eyes on Ryan she locked away her feelings. She wouldn't allow herself to become emotionally involved with a child felon, no matter how polite he was. No matter of his inability to look at her directly.
He wasn't her son.
She added an extra lock on her heart when she found Seth in the pool house, drunk and beaten up. She wanted the delinquent out of her house.
He wasn't her son.
She felt a key trying to open the lock when she saw that he had made breakfast for them, even though he knew she'd told Sandy to take him back to Chino. He knew he didn't belong there. He'd only set the table for 3 that morning.
He wasn't her son.
Admiring the model of the home she was building, signing away his identity, accepting the new one assigned him by the state.
0382965.
Telling her it's okay.
He wasn't her son.
The fire at the model home, his coming back and taking responsibility for it.
He wasn't her son.
The fire scared her, just as it scared her when she witnessed Ryan putting himself in harm's way to protect her and her son when Seth talked her into visiting him in juvie.
Unlocking her heart and bringing him back to her home.
He wasn't her son.
He had a mother.
They needed to find her.
To give back her son.
Realizing the boy had nothing. Not even a change of underpants.
Bonding over small talk, her heart breaking when he told her that all he wanted to be was 17. Said in such a way that made her think he didn't' believe it was a realistic goal.
His mother didn't deserve a son.
A half-hearted attempt to dismiss years of guilt. A drunken night. A failed escape attempt.
A final abandonment.
He was now her son.
She couldn't imagine him not being with them. This last month had been a nightmare for all of them. She had wished the world would have stopped moving so she could find her son and bring him back home where he belonged.
Her son. Sandy's son. Seth's brother. Her two sons.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The curtains fluttered as the damp breeze blew through the open window. The rain had started again, falling hard. Ryan groaned and rolled over, his throbbing hand signaling the need for pharmaceutical relief.
Through his pain filled haze, he could make out the shape of someone slumped in a chair. His heart started beating faster. He tried to slow his breathing.
Fuck.
His mind had been so conditioned to perceive all unknown shadows as impending threats that his body automatically responded in panic.
That was his weakness to overcome. His Achilles heel.
He struggled to untangle his legs from the twisted blankets.
"Ryan?"
He kicked his legs harder, the blankets refusing to release him.
"Ryan... It's okay... It's only me..."
Sandy leaned over to turn on the light on the nightstand, trying to avoid the flailing limbs.
Ryan closed his eyes at the intrusion of light.
"It's alright... It's me, Sandy..."
Ryan opened his eyes again, only to snap them shut.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Good to see you too..." Sandy deadpanned.
Ryan succeeded in freeing his legs and stood up quickly, keeping the bed between him and Sandy.
"Why are you here?"
Sandy stepped forward. Ryan stepped back.
"I'm sorry... I screwed up..."
Fuck.... I can't deal with this right now, Ryan thought.
He moved from behind the bed.
"I want you to come home... Ryan.... Please.... I'm so sorry...."
Ryan clenched his fists. He could feel the pull of the stitches. Memories of the night in question came flooding back.
The accusations. The pain. The emptiness as he walked away, realizing that nothing in his life would change. It might be dressed up a little more, wrapped in a more expensive package, but it was the same shit and it always rained down on him.
Not anymore.
"I am home..."
Ryan walked out, closing the door behind him.
What brought Sandy Cohen back to reality was the way the apartment door closed quietly. It was almost inaudible. He sat down on the bed and buried his head in his hands, his elbows digging into his thighs.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Mandy watched as Ryan walked down the driveway, his t-shirt and sweatpants were already soaked. She had heard the hushed exchange between "Marty" and another man.
There were no secrets in an old house. Ancient air vents made sure of that.
Marty wasn't Marty.
He was Ryan, and he was hiding from something or someone.
Her "Mama Bear" instinct as Will called it was coming out in full force. She made sure the kids were safely asleep in their beds. Will was working the midnight shift and wouldn't be home for a couple of hours.
A low growl caused Sandy to look up. His eyes focused on a large black dog.
A large black dog in a white wife beater.
Why was Ryan sharing his wardrobe with a dog?