Chapter 5

"Oh, Ryan, you shouldn't have," Kirsten gushed. Her hands lightly danced over neatly stacked sheets and towels.

Ryan smiled shyly. He pulled a string and a bulb turned on inside the closet under the stairs.

"Genius," Kirsten said.

The bottom shelf had needed re-sizing, and was propped against the wall. Kneeling, Ryan put it in its place, nudging it with gentle shoves using the heel of his hand so the shelf would sit better. "There was power running through here already," said Ryan shrugging. "I set up a small shop in the back with tools I found in the back room. If I get a couple of routing bits I think I could match the trim that's missing."

"I priced that out with a contractor a few days ago and thought I would have to wait until finances changed," Kirsten said turning red in embarrassment. "Thanks, Ryan."

Not used to staying at home, Kirsten had been working frantically, almost manically, on the house. Home renovation seemed to be her way of dealing with the stress. Her non-stop cleaning, painting, and decorating improved the house, but didn't seem to make her any happier. Ryan felt the tension building, and was helpless to do anything about it. Sandy and Kirsten were now on minimum speaking terms.

"The trim for these houses were purposely designed to be simple so it won't be hard to reproduce." Ryan rubbed his fingers over some edging that needed more sanding. "You're going through a lot and I wanted to help," he said timidly, pretending to study the edging intently.

"It has been hard and you've been a big help with the car, cleaning, fixing things. And now this beautiful custom-built closet," she said. Kirsten opened a cardboard box at her feet to unpack. "I'm so angry with Dad." She stopped and shook her head. "I sorry. I shouldn't be bothering you with my problems. Everyone is going through a lot… because of him," she added bitterly.

She handed Ryan a bulk package of toilet paper. Bath tissue for the discriminating family, the logo read. He placed it on the lowest shelf.

"Your dad screwed up, but he didn't do it to hurt you," Ryan offered hesitantly.

Crouching down, she rummaged through the box for other things that might belong in this closet. Her jaw clenched, and she roughly tossed packages of dish sponges aside.

Ryan stared at her growing agitation. "This family is famous for giving second chances to screw ups."

Holding a liter bottle of Kiehl's cucumber shampoo out to Ryan, Kirsten's hand began to shake. It fell to the floor, and Kirsten sat down heavily. "I don't know anything for sure anymore." She rubbed the back of her neck and rolled her head.

"He's probably scared about going away and wants to see you … I wished that I had said goodbye better."

Kirsten sighed. "Oh, Ryan," she said sympathetically. "You never talk about your dad, but I don't think your dad did anything out of pure greed. My dad has, well, had plenty of money. There was no reason to bribe, lie, threaten me."

"I think my dad would do worse if he thought it could help him. He was quite a guy."

Kirsten frowned. "Did you visit? Do you want to visit him? Say a better 'hello' than your 'goodbye' was, maybe?"

Ryan was quiet for some moments. Kirsten put her hand on his to stop him from putting away the shampoo she had dropped, forcing him to look up at her.

He exhaled loudly, pushed the box out of the way, and plopped down next to her, leaning his back against the wall. His legs stuck straight out ending in his signature boots. He stared at them for a few moments before speaking. "A few times in the beginning, we visited. After a while Mom got bored with that. When we moved to Chino, it was too hard to get there."

"And after you came to live with us? We can arrange a trip to Fresno. Do you want that?" Kirsten asked.

Ryan stiffened. "Please don't ask so I don't have to decide. Maybe he's sorry about everything, and he thinks I'm the greatest kid, and wants to get to know me better. But evil forces are stopping us from getting together – sorry, the comic club seeps under the skin." Ryan laughed ruefully and shook his head. "That's a nice dream I can keep, right? Having my mom walk away is enough drama for a while. Honestly, what I remember of him wasn't that great… but he's my dad."

"Okay, then. I forbid you to visit… if that's what you want." Kirsten smiled crookedly.

"Sometimes, but only sometimes, I just want to forget my old family ever happened." Ryan's face was stoic. He crawled closer to the box to resume shelving things.

Kirsten handed him boxes of facial tissue. "God, Ryan, compared to your problems, I'm a selfish brat. Hailey was right about me clinging to Daddy – I'm Charlie Brown to Dad's Lucy. After Uncle Shawnesy and Balboa Heights you would have thought I'd learned." Kirsten shook her head. "You guys must think I'm an idiot."

"Do you think I was wrong to help my mom, each time she fell off the wagon? Time after time she'd promise… So you love your dad and are a little blind to his faults. Now you see more clearly. And now I can see Mom better than when I was standing close enough to smell the gin on her breath."

"You've seen too much for your years. I'm so glad you found us. I'm just sorry things are hard right now."

Ryan's throat was thick. "Theresa used to close her eyes and say if the next car that drove by was red, she would be a millionaire when she grew up. If your dad does what you want, if he hands over the accounting records without a court order, does that mean he loves you unconditionally? And that it was okay that you loved him? Is that what you're doing? Testing him?"

Ryan studied Kirsten intently to see if he was being too blunt. "You won't see him even though it would mean putting this D.A. business behind you. Either you don't trust him to keep his word to release the papers that will get you off the hook, or you don't want him to release the papers. Maybe you are guilty." Ryan laughed.

Kirsten looked up quickly, scared.

Ryan stared back, his eyes opened wide, horrified.

She gasped and shook her head quickly. "No, it's not what you're think. I'm not sure. Did Dad have me sign things when I was too busy or too lazy to read carefully? At the very least I'm guilty of negligence. And I'm afraid to find out." Her voice was a whisper now, her forehead resting on her knees.

"I'm going to help," Ryan proclaimed.

Through a grimace Kirsten smiled at Ryan. "No, but it's time I talked to Sandy."