Chapter 12
Ryan shuffled across the kitchen floor in his slippers, bleary-eyed but highly motivated to make coffee. The Cohens may live in the numbered streets, they may not drive a Beemer or go to black tie charity events, but they upheld the highest coffee standards. He measured three level scoops of grounds into the filter, filled the carafe with bottled water, and hit the start button.
He slouched against the counter and enjoyed the rich aroma and reassuring gurgle from the coffee pot. Only the promise of drinking some moved him to a cabinet for a mug. He couldn't find any in either cabinet; Seth had forgotten his turn to empty the dishwasher again. Mildly irritated he went to find a mug, but his eye caught on broken glass in the sink. It looked as if the heavy glass had been thrown or dropped haphazardly into the hard porcelain sink. Ryan drew in a sharp breath. There was lipstick on the rim of the largest shard. Since moving he had noticed Kirsten drinking more but had always found ways to rationalize it - it was a betrayal to think that this wonderful woman who opened her house and heart to him could be anything like her.
He had grown up fixing Dawn's messes only so she could do it over again. The only thanks he got were the AJs of her life, and rejection before his 17th birthday. He looked at the broken glass and considered what to do. Kirsten was under lots of stress, and so were Sandy and Seth. If the drinking went back to the way it was before the court case – heavy Newport social, wasn't he just adding to their worry if he made a big deal of a temporary thing? He sniffed at the small amount of the clear liquid that was left in the still intact bottom of the glass – hard liquor of some kind- she was moving up from wine. After a moment's hesitation, he poured it down the drain and threw the glass into the garbage under the sink. He carefully picked up the smaller pieces onto a paper towel.
"A positive ripple in the Force, I feel. A pot of java you made, hmm?" Seth called out Yoda-like from the next room.
Ryan quickly threw the rest of the paper towel into the garbage and closed the cabinet door. Seth ambled into the kitchen, his bathrobe sash dragging behind him. Ryan tried to scowl and said, "Yeah, and you can have a cup after you empty the dishwasher like you were supposed to last night."
Seth dropped the voice. "Can you save the lecture? Last night's reaming wasn't enough? Wait, that didn't come out right. I meant Dad's never-ending tirade slash discussion filled my quota for the year."
Ryan ignored him and continued to unload the dishes into the cabinets. Seth leaned over and grabbed a clean mug. He filled it and took an exaggerated gulp of coffee. "Nectar of the morning gods," he declared. "Dad's lecture didn't make you feel so guilty you had to make eggs again, did it?" he asked hopefully looking around. He sighed and moved to the pantry where the breakfast cereals were kept. "I guess it's a Cocoa Puffs day. Remember no matter what Dad says," Seth turned to Ryan to whisper conspiratorially, "we had a mission. Failure was not an option."
"Your dad's at work already. He's a smart lawyer… Maybe we should have talked it over with him first." Ryan made himself a cup of coffee and shook his head. "I dunno, I just wanted to be a regular high school guy this year, Seth."
"And I just wanted to grow up this year. Believe me, Dad wouldn't have let us get past talking and she'd be in deeper shit now. I passed by Mom on her way into the head, and she looks awful. A spa day for Chrismukkah is in order. The last thing she needs any more incriminating evidence popping up. What's done is done. We need to look to the future: Dr. Kim left a message saying she expects us at Harbor today. Now, that is going to be a joy – open contempt layered with a touch of assault and battery."
"You gonna be cool, man?"
Seth shrugged, but his expression was glum.
"Your bullshit saved our ass yesterday. You were awesome, and now you're afraid of some Newpsie Juniors?"
"They hated me when I was the grandson of the man who owned Newport, and now they hate me because he doesn't."
"So you haven't crossed to their dark side, is that so bad?"
"Whatever. We've established that I'm hated."
"If it helps, I'm hated, too." Ryan said supportively. "We'll face them together like yesterday."
Seth continued Ryan's thoughts, "'cause together we're unbeatable. Yes! And did we not kick ass?"
A smile formed on Ryan's lips. "Damn right, we kicked ass, and we saved the life of a ficus!"
Seth returned the smile and laughed, "I think she almost bought that one. But the photo mug was poetic." His smile faltered. "You don't think Dr. Kim asking us back is some kind of Order 66, do you?"
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Ryan wheeled his bike to the back of the house; it turned out he wasn't needed at the Crab Shack this afternoon after all. Instead of returning to school to join in the comic book club meeting, Ryan thought he might cook a nice meal for the family. He hoped Kirsten was home so he could cook with her – she seemed to like that and he could also get a sense for how she was holding up. Sandy would be picking Seth on his way home from work.
He walked into the living room. Her head was thrown back, half off the couch, with her mouth gaping open unattractively. A tipped glass lay by her on the wet stained carpet. Her body was sprawled out in an awkward position. He sank to the floor and leaned against the wall. Despite his horror he couldn't take his eyes off of her. His savior needed saving.
His promise to keep the Cohen family whole was crumbling. First he pissed Sandy off more than he ever had – for not trusting him enough to go to him, Sandy had said. Ryan had been prepared to defend the family from the outside, but the danger lived within as well. Progressing from wine with dinner, to wine whenever and alone in the bedroom, to straight vodka in the middle of the day. She always had a glass on hand to deal with bad news.
He was slipping. A year ago he would have put the pieces together. He had been watchful, he could never not be watchful. They all said he was quiet and he was because that was how you observed. Up until Newport, there were good reasons he never walked into a room without checking out the vibe. Reading for signs of anyone being messed up, what kind of high they were on, were their triggers around, when to risk walking past them for the relative safety of his room and when it was safer to freeze and stay invisible until they were passed out.
He picked up the phone and dialed. "Sandy?" He hated the uncertainty in his voice. It was one thing to trust Sandy to make legal decisions but another thing to trust that he would believe Ryan that Kirsten had a drinking problem.
"Hey, Ryan. I'm at Harbor and Seth should be here any second. Should we swing by and pick you up at the Shack?"
"No."
There was long pause. "Okay. Is there anything special you wanted for dinner then?" Another pause.
"You were really pissed yesterday," Ryan said.
Sandy's tone changed to a serious one. "Yeah, I was mad, but can talk to me. Talk."
"Don't bring Seth home." Ryan sighed, and said in a rush, "Kirsten is safe, but passed out on the couch."
"Ryan, I'm sorry. I should have known this was coming." Sandy cleared his throat. "I'm on my way."
Ryan hung up and stared at Kirsten. After a few moments she stirred, closing her mouth and swallowing a couple of times. She rubbed her eyes and slowly seemed to realize where she was.
"Kirsten," Ryan said hesitantly to let her know he was there.
Kirsten tried to sit up quickly, but frowned when her body seemed to have a different idea. Slowly she sat up and squinted at Ryan. "Ryan? Wow, it's late. I must have fallen asleep."
Ryan's jaw tightened and he studied the hardwood floor with intensity.
"Oh, and I've had a spill," she said leaning over to upright the glass and straighten the pillows around her. "So careless."
He looked up. "Kirsten, please stop. Sandy's on the way home."
Kirsten's fluttering hands stilled. "I know, I know. Yeah, I'm going through a rough patch." Her eyes narrowed sharply. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Like the way you looked at Dawn - but I'm not like her," she protested.
"You're breaking my heart, Kirsten." Ryan was still across the room seated, and leaning against the wall but his soft voice was clearly heard.
"The numbered streets may not be Newport, but I think I've done okay by you, Ryan. And now this?" Her voice was harsh.
Ryan refused to drop his cool stare into Kirsten's eyes after her implied accusation.
There was a long silence before Kirsten took in a deep breath and shook her head. "You're right. I'm just so scared. What will happen to you guys if I go to prison?" Her eyes welled up, and she twisted her ring around her finger.
"I'll do anything to help. But I'm done lying that there isn't a problem. Not for my mom, not for Marissa, and not even for you."
Kirsten stared back with haunted eyes. "Your mom thought I held the family together," she whispered sadly.
They were both startled when Sandy opened the door. He went to Kirsten and put an arm around her protectively. "You alright, honey?" She nodded listlessly. "Ryan, can you go pick up Seth? He must be wondering by now. We'll clean up here." Ryan nodded. "What should I say? Anything?"
"You can tell Seth if he asks you; secrets fester. But Kirsten and I would like the chance to talk to him ourselves if he doesn't ask you first."
"I'm going to fix this. I'm just glad Seth didn't have to see me like this." Kirsten looked down at her disheveled state, the vodka bottle and spilt drink. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this Ryan, …sorry for not being strong for everyone." She twisted away and began to cry openly.
Sandy closed his eyes and pulled her close.
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Author's Note: This chapter cribs a bit from Season2, but I think it fits. And a round of applause for FredSmith, awesome beta, please.
