Facing the Past
Chapter Sixteen
Catherine jumped from the car as soon as she turned off the ignition, greeting the two adults with a large smile.
Ryan sat in the passenger seat tentatively, fingering the door handle and studying the people that were supposed to be his new family.
The three kids, he saw, all looked to be under the age of fourteen or so. Kids, that's what they were. He wondered why they hadn't all found homes yet.
No one wanting Ryan was one thing, he was nearly seventeen with a messed up past, but what were the stories with these kids? They looked alright, he guessed.
Catherine signalled Ryan with her hands to get out of the car, he did so slowly, swinging his army duffel of belongings over his shoulder and crossing his arms in front of his chest.
He studied the two people in front of him warily, the three children sitting behind them on the steps.
"Ryan" Catherine broke the tense silence, "This is Lorraine and Mark Hamilton, your new parents, they'll introduce you to the other children later.. I really should get going" Catherine shrugged, backing up slowly towards her car.
Once Catherine had disappeared the smile from Lorraine's face disappeared. "Let's get inside, we can't all be eaten by the mosquitoes on account of you"
Ryan swallowed the lump in his throat, glancing at Mark who wouldn't meet his eyes. The children scrambled inside the house quickly, leaving Ryan to ponder what was happening.
How could he have been so stupid?
This wasn't home. This never would be home. He'd felt more comfortable at the Cohens' the first night he'd been there.
He sighed and found his way inside the house, entering the kitchen to see everyone gathered around the table, waiting expectantly for him.
"Kids, this is Ryan. He's going to be staying here from now on" Mark began, "Ryan" he continued, pointing at each kid in turn, "This is Case, he's twelve, Klara, she's seven, and Sammy, he's two"
Ryan nodded as a reply, not even uncrossing his arms to raise his hand in greeting as per normal.
"House rules" Lorraine continued, "Are as follows. No fighting, No swearing. Church on Sundays. Chores after school. Dinner is at six, and everyone is in the house by eight, in bed by nine. No exceptions, if any rules are broken there will be punishment."
Ryan watched her spiel in amazement. She looked as though she'd given it a hundred times. Who knows, maybe she had. Her face didn't seem to change, but it may have been on account of all the makeup she wore to try and cover her weathered face.
His eyes drifted to Mark. He seemed fairly…normal. Probably about forty, he was beginning to bald but his hair was still coloured a light brown.
They seemed to be waiting for a response of some sort, so Ryan nodded.
"Case, show Ryan to your room please. He can get settled in and then come grab some dinner. Nothing fancy tonight, I didn't have time to prepare on account of our new visitor.
Case glared at Ryan then got up from the kitchen table. Without looking back he wandered down the hall of the bungalow.
This definitely was not home.
……………………………………..
Ryan stared in to the inky blackness that surrounded him, listening to Case toss and turn in the bed across the room.
He hadn't spoken with anyone in the family since dinner, and even that had been fairly limited to yes or no answers.
Case seemed like an angry child, which maybe explained why no one had taken him in yet, away from the system.
Ironically that was probably the same reason he was so angry.
Klara was a quiet girl. If there was anyone who spoke less than Ryan it had to be Klara, Ryan hadn't heard her say one word since he'd been here. She simply nodded or shook her head accordingly.
Sammy made more noise than her, and he was only two. From what the Hamiltons' were saying at dinner, it sounded as though Sammy hadn't been here long, and Ryan frankly doubted if he'd be here much longer.
Anyone adopting wanted babies. They didn't have the baggage that teenagers came with, not to mention most just passed them off as their own.
The house was very small, cramped and smelled a bit like mothballs, but Ryan had seen worse. Like his mom's place for example, on Larch street. Or the dingy shack in Fresno that they'd left when his father had been arrested.
He briefly wondered what the Cohens were up to, then pushed it from his mind. It wasn't his life anymore. Thinking about it just made him depressive. Thinking about anything in his life made him depressive.
Maybe he should honestly give it a shot here. Try to make it work. It was only until he was eighteen anyways, right? A year and a bit away. He'd lived sixteen years with his mother, could this be so bad?
Ryan kicked the itchy sheets off him and sat up. He missed the blankets in the pool house.
He'd been with Kirsten once, when she'd picked up a single white down comforter. It had cost over four hundred dollars. For one comforter. But it sure the hell wasn't itchy.
Ryan let out a loud sigh and got up from the bed, his eyes already well adjusted to the darkness around him. He slowly made his way to the washroom and splashed his face with cold water.
In Chino, even in Chino Hills, air conditioning was very rare, and it was one of those searing hot humid nights.
He flicked the light off to the washroom before he opened the door to leave, surprised to find himself face to face with Mark… and Lorraine.
"What are you doing up?" Mark demanded of him.
"I.. drink" he replied in whispered tones. He noticed Lorraine was being fully supported by Mark, in fact her eyes were closed.
"Getting new kids is a little stressful on her" Mark explained, seeing his wandering gaze.
And Ryan understood. It seemed that any where he went, people solved their problems with alcohol.
His dad. His mom. Marissa. Even Kirsten a little. Now Lorraine.
His first reaction was to help Mark get her to the bedroom. Like old times with his mom and Marissa.
Instead Ryan brushed past them both and in to the small room that was now partly his. He didn't want this to begin with, why should he help?
……………………………………………
"Are you sure there's nothing you can do?" Kirsten asked him again at breakfast. It seemed like it was the only conversation that passed between himself and Kirsten any more.
"I'm trying, honey. I .. I really am. I've got someone working on it from the old office, trying to find a loophole, something, anything that would enable us to receive custody of Ryan again."
"Can't we just… adopt him?"
"I wish it were that easy" Sandy sighed honestly. He glanced up and saw she was waiting for an explanation. He attempted to filter the legal jargon as he explained. "In order to adopt, the prospective parents need to be screened, as well as their families… it's a long process, and can be a costly one too, with all the paperwork that has to be filed.."
"Money is not an issue, Sandy, you know that"
"Time is, some adoptions take years to complete Kirsten"
"But in the meantime, he can stay with us, right?"
This is where things started getting tricky. "With Ryan's history I'm not sure. It's not great to start with, and they'll definitely take his history in Newport with us in to account. It's not exactly spotless… chances are if they won't let us foster him, they won't agree to let us be his permanent legal guardians."
"I thought they wanted to get the older kids out of the system quickly" she commented, seeming to pout.
Each day it seemed that it would be less likely they would ever see Ryan again.
"They do" Sandy sighed, "They also need to make sure that their placements are safe, and the kids won't just run and slip through the cracks"
"Our home is safe" she raised her voice defensively.
Sandy approached his wife, rubbing her shoulders and neck, "I know that sweetie, and you know that… we just have to prove it to them, and as I said before, with Ryan's history here, that might not be so easy"
………………………………………..
Ryan wasn't in a good mood. He'd been woken at the crack of dawn to prepare breakfast for everyone, since Lorraine was " a little tired" as Mark put it.
Now he was here at the supermarket, after having to walk eight blocks, doing the grocery shopping while Mark 'attended' Lorraine and her hangover.
"Less vodka next time" Ryan had wanted to say. He'd seen the bottle in the kitchen this morning, nearly empty.
Whether they'd seen the look on his face then, or whether it was just Mark's revenge for last night, Ryan had ended up here with forty bucks, picking up an impossible week's groceries for six people.
He glanced at the list again, scribbled in Lorraine's childish writing. Ridiculous, he wanted to say. He wanted to scream, sit on the scuffed floor here and scream.
It was full of wishful-thinking items. Name brand products that cost more because they had commercial spots in the six o-clock news.
Even his mom hadn't been so… delusional.
Maybe this was a test, he thought.
Or maybe it was a mistake. Maybe Mark had meant to hand him sixty.
Forty dollars for six people, that was less than ten bucks a person. For a week. It was about thirty cents a meal.
A bread and butter diet.
Ryan hit the sale racks, full of fruit that was beginning to rot, and bread that was ready to mould, meat ready to turn. It was all they could afford.
He finally hit the checkouts after comparison shopping everything. The cashier barely smiled, which was fine with Ryan, because he didn't need to talk to anyone right now. Didn't want to.
"Forty – Seven Sixty" she told him.
Ryan froze. He hadn't even gotten brand names. He'd gotten half expired products. He'd done everything in his power to cut the cost of the bill, including cutting a third of the requested groceries, and it was still more than he had.
What could he take off?
The woman behind the counter must have noticed his frantic thinking because she fixed him with a stare, "You got it or not, food ain't free you know"
Ryan licked his lips, "I.. I've only got-" How was he supposed to go back to his new house without the groceries? He'd felt sure that this would be something he could do.
"Are… you sure you rang it all in right?" Ryan asked, not meaning to sound rude.
The woman stared at him with a scowl on her face, "Yea" she said, without looking at the receipt, "I am. You gonna pay for this or should I call someone to take it all back?"
"I'll pay the difference" a man's voice said from behind him.
Ryan felt a flush fill his cheeks and ears, "It's okay" he rushed, "I can just.. I'll take something off"
"Like what, the stale bread? The diapers?" the man asked, "Don't be stupid Ryan, I'll pay for it"
Ryan, until this point, had been too ashamed to look at whomever was offering charity.
"Mr. Symington?" he asked, his eyes widening.
"Phillip" the man corrected, smiling.
"I.. I can't take your money" Ryan told him.
"You're not" Phillip told him, "She is" he nodded at the grouchy cashier.
Ryan cracked a smile, "I.. I'm sorry, I'll pay you back it's just-"
"Ryan. Relax" he told him, setting a hand on his shoulder, "How much do you have?"
"Forty" Ryan replied,
"Seven bucks? You're arguing over seven dollars?" Phillip asked him surprised.
Ryan stared at the floor.
"I'm kidding, kid." Phillip replied, passing the cashier another twenty on top of Ryan's forty.
There was silence for a moment between them, the cashier handing Ryan Phillip's change. Ryan held it out for the man he barely knew, he shook his head.
"You probably need it more" Phillip said in way of explanation.
Ryan shook his head, continuing to hold out his palm. It was shaking.
It was amazing how nice it was to see someone he knew, even if he hardly knew that at all. It was… comforting in some way. It made him realize that his life in Newport hadn't been just a wonderful dream.
It had been his life. At least for a little while.
"Tell you what" Phillip said, turning to his as the cashier began ringing up his bill, "Let go grab something to drink, you can pay, and we'll call it even" he smiled.
Phillip was definitely a lot nicer when Ryan wasn't interrupting his wife and child's funeral.
The Hamiltons hadn't given him an expected time to be back. They'd just sent him to get the groceries.
"Sure" Ryan said, picking his three bags from the counter.
"You need to drop that stuff off some place first?" Phillip nodded his head to Ryan's bags.
"Uh.. yeah, maybe I should. You wanna meet some place?"
"Naw, I don't have anything perishable, don't need to go home and drop it off. We'll swing by and drop off your stuff, then head out. There's a coffee shop a couple blocks away from… from Arlington, we can go there"
Ryan nodded his head, tired of arguing with people.
He would let Phillip drive him to the Hamiltons to drop of the groceries. Then they wouldn't have anything to be mad at him for.
Except for maybe the near-mouldy bread.
……………………………
"Nice car" Ryan commented once they were driving. He was reminded of the day Sandy had taken him home to Newport.
"Yeah, great isn't it?"
"What do you do?" Ryan asked him.
"I work for the state, in Child Services"
"You make money there?" Ryan asked, surprised.
"No" Phillip laughed, "My wife had a good insurance policy"
Ryan stared at him.
"Sorry, bad joke" Phillip corrected. "It's the way I deal with things" he shrugged, "No, this is from wise investments, Rae was a genius with money"
Ryan nodded, then pointed to the small house he was staying in, "It's this one, right here"
Phillip pulled over to the side of the road and parked the car.
"You got those?" he asked Ryan, who nodded back.
"Back in a minute" he said, closing the car door gently.
"I'm back" Ryan announced, walking through the door. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel like home here.
It was, however, almost a relief to see that they hadn't packed up and left while he was out.
He made his way to the kitchen, where Lorraine and Mark sat at the wooden table smoking.
Ryan set the three bags on the table, turning his back to leave.
"Put 'em away" Lorraine told him.
Ryan stopped, ready to lash out an angry reply.
Try, he told himself.
Without a word he turned back and began unpacking the groceries quickly.
"Where's everything else?" Mark asked him.
"This is everything" Ryan told him, setting the diapers on the floor.
"That wasn't everything on the list"
He swallowed, "I didn't use the list"
"And why the hell not?" Lorraine demanded angrily.
"You didn't give me enough money to use the list" he shot back.
"I gave you eighty dollars" Mark shot back in reply, "How is that not enough?"
Eighty? Ryan wondered. Who was hung over this morning? "You gave me forty" Ryan corrected, "And for all this I was seven dollars short"
"I gave you eighty" Mark insisted, sending a look at Lorraine.
Now he was angry. "You gave me forty. That's what I counted when I left the house, it's what I counted at the grocery store and it's what I pulled from my pocket and handed the cashier"
"Where the hell is the change?" Mark demanded now, standing up.
"There wasn't any!" Ryan screamed back.
"You're here for one day and you steal our money?" Lorraine began from the chair she sat in.
Ryan turned his back. He wasn't putting up with this. Screw it, fuck trying. He was done.
"Don't you leave!"
He kept walking.
"You have chores to do!" Lorraine screeched.
"I'll do 'em later" Ryan shot back angrily, slamming the front door. He ran in to Phillip who had been trotting up the steps.
"Sorry" Ryan muttered.
"You okay?" he asked, turning around and following Ryan back to the car.
"Fine" Ryan replied… "just-" he waved his hands then shrugged his shoulders.
"Big talker, huh?" Phil asked him, once they were driving down the street.
Ryan shrugged again.
"So who was that… that was yelling?"
Ryan sighed. He knew it was coming. Questions always came with yelling. His neighbours had always sent him questioning glances. His teachers had always asked questions when a new bruise appeared.
But nothing was ever done about it.
Maybe because Ryan had always lied.
"Lorraine and Mark" Ryan said in way of explanation.
"From Canada. Yeah, I know them" Phil joked.
Ryan shot him a look, one he'd sent Seth many times.
"Told you comedy was my dealing tool" Phillip shrugged.
"No. it's okay. You remind me of Seth"
Phillip said nothing.
"My… friend, brother… something" He guessed he and Seth weren't brothers any longer.
"It's good to be friends with your brother" Phillip told him.
"No. I mean.. Seth's not… he's not like my real brother or anything…"
Confusion was written all over Phil's face and Ryan felt himself draw to the older version of Seth, explaining, in part, his history.
His dad, his mom, Chino, Newport, and now Chino. His incidents with the law, the accident that night with Phil's wife. He even told him his suspicion that A.J. had been the one driving and that his mother was an innocent, very drunken, innocent bystander.
With encouragement from Phil, a guy he hardly knew, Ryan spilled just about everything that formed his messed-up life.
They talked, they joked. It was three cups of coffee and two glasses of water later that Ryan looked at the clock on the wall behind the register and slapped his forehead.
It was eight thirty. He was past curfew.
……………………………………
Ryan woke up to sun pouring in through the dirty window of the bedroom. He squeezed his eyes shut, glancing around. Case wasn't in his bed, and according to the one alarm clock they had, it was eleven in the morning.
No one had spoken to him last night. Not Mark, not Lorraine. Not even to lecture him on the curfew. Ryan had gotten home around nine, and decided to crawl directly in to bed.
Now it was eleven in the morning, and no one had even woken him up to cook breakfast? To lecture him? To do chores?
He slipped on a pair of jeans and a fresh A-shirt, wandering slowly in to the kitchen.
"He rises" Lorraine smiled from the kitchen table. She sat, nursing a cup of coffee and the morning paper.
Mark was scrubbing out the sink with steel wool.
Ryan clenched his jaw. Lorraine was smiling, Mark wasn't yelling. What the hell was going on here? It was as if… as if yesterday had never happened, at all…
"Hey" Ryan finally said as a greeting.
"We decided to let you sleep in. We know it must be tough for you, moving in to a new place and all. Different rules etcetera to get used to.
Ryan studied them both warily.
"We won't bite, kid" Lorraine snorted, setting down the paper and stamping out a smoke in the over crowded ashtray.
"We do have some chores for you today though, if that's okay" Mark countered.
If that's okay? Ryan wondered. These two were on something. He was sure of it now. Crazy mood swings, accusations.
"That's… cool" Ryan finally said.
"List is on the fridge… not that they all need to be done today"
Ryan nodded. This was weird. This was… this was way weird.
"Here's the thing" Lorraine put in from the table.
He knew there had to be a 'but'.
"Mark and I are going away for one night… just to get away.. fix some… problems we've been having, get some time to ourselves. We're wondering if you could watch the kids. We could pay you" she put in, smiling.
Ryan almost laughed. Almost choked. Him, Ryan Atwood, baby sit?
He'd had friends that had kids when they were young, he'd known quite a few of Theresa's friends had had children already, but Ryan had never gone near them.
They screamed. They puked. They were… well they were fragile, and Ryan was used to using his fist to smash in to someone's face, not hold a bottle.
"I… don't know if I can.. I don't.. I don't know how" Ryan finally managed to explain.
Lorraine smiled, "It's easy. Sammy's eating solids now… he's starting to learn the concept of a toilet, he'll usually start to put up a fuss if he has to go. Klara doesn't make any trouble and Case can help you out. It shouldn't be a problem, it's only for one night, we'll be back tomorrow morning"
"Uh… sure" Ryan said. He was overwhelmed. After nine, all the kids were sleeping, so there was really only a couple waking hours he had to look after them, right?
"Thank you so much Ryan" Mark smiled at him from across the kitchen.
Ryan nodded, furrowing his brow. Maybe all Lorraine and Mark needed was a night away? Maybe yesterday was just a result of too much stress…
………………………………..