Raindrops

Quicksilvre

I'm being good now; I'm starting this new chapter just a day after the last one went up. So there!

)-)-)-)

"Do you know if Seth and Anna are here already?" Lindsay slid out of the front seat of the rental car as Ryan opened the door for her. They were in the Cohen's driveway, fresh out of a Chicago-to-LAX flight for Thanksgiving break.

"They ought to be. Sandy said their flight landed around noon. They took the first one out of Pittsburgh this morning."

"Oh." Lindsay went straight for the trunk.

"You can go in. I'll get your stuff."

"Nuh-uh. I'm getting it. You can go ahead."

"Ryan! I insist. Here, let me get mine and you'll take yours."

"You have way more stuff than I do. Let me take at least some of yours in."

"All right. Only if you insist." Lindsay laughed. "You'd have a lot of stuff too if your base was back in Chicago."

"Yeah, well, two whole suitcases for four days? No."

Lindsay took one of her suitcases and put the handle in his mouth. "Didn't you say you were going to carry some of my stuff in?"

"Wah, wut wit will–"

"That's enough out of you. Let's go." Slamming the trunk door shut, Lindsay led the way to the front door of the Cohen home. Taking her bag from his jaws, Ryan followed.

Neither of them had to knock or ring; Kirsten was right there. "Hey, guys. Happy Thanksgiving!"

"Happy Thanksgiving, Kirsten." Lindsay leaned over for a hug. "It's been too long. A year, almost."

"Yeah." She turned to Ryan. "Hello, stranger. You've been going so long between phone calls, I was about to send a search party."

"Yeah." Ryan embraced her. "It's been crazy. I've had classes and my internship...I've practically had to schedule time with Lindsay."

Kirsten took a hold of his cheeks and squeezed, drawing his mouth into a kissy face. "Don't forget to squeeze me in, too. Unless I'm–"

"Mont wewen wo dare."

"All right." Kirsten let go, and Ryan rubbed his cheeks, trying to get his face feel right again.

"Where's Seth and Anna?"

"Poolhouse. They've been waiting for you. They got the two-thirty spot of yours ahead of me."

"Kirsten." Laughing, Ryan moved through the house, over the familiar route to the back. By the time he was outside he could see both of them setting up. He waved, and Anna, facing him, waved back. Turning around, Seth only gave a nod.

"Hey." Ryan let himself in. "Hey man, how's it been."

"Hey Ryan." For a second, Seth and Ryan simply stared at each other, not really sure what to do next. Finally, Seth stepped up and tossed his arms around Ryan. Stiff for a second, Ryan reciprocated.

"Hey."

"It's been too long, man. Long three months."

"Yeah." For a second, they stood like that, not quite comfortable and not quite uncomfortable. Finally, Anna broke the two of them up to hug Ryan herself. "Hello you, remember me?"

"Eh, how could I forget." Their hug was not any more natural. When they broke apart, the three of them spent several seconds together in uneasy silence. Finally, Seth cleared his throat.

"So, yeah. We beat you here. Guess you and Lindsay are going to have to set up elsewhere. Uh, sorry, man."

"Hey, no problem. Kirsten probably already has an idea where to put us."

"Ah."

More silence. "So...after dinner I thought we could go up to the cemetery and, uh, make the rounds." Seth shifted uneasily and cleared his throat. Anna took a hold of one arm, and snuggled her head into his shoulder, smiling at him as he looked over at him. He managed a smile back, a weak one.

"Yeah. There's a florist right there, we can pick up two bouquets easy. I don't think we need to go to Mr. Roberts's, don't you think?"

"I never knew him."

They spent a few more minutes in uneasy silence. "Quiet," Ryan said finally.

Anna nodded her head, still resting on Seth's shoulder. "Well, yeah."

"Yeah." More silence.

"I'm going to go help out Sandy. I saw the fryer he had out in the driveway. Might not be a good idea to leave him alone with that, just in case."

"Yeah. All right, man."

Ryan took one last look at Seth. Something was definitely missing. Too quiet, for one thing, for someone who yammered to hear his own voice. But something was wrong with Seth's eyes, too. There was something a little too dark and a little too dead in them.

He was about to open his mouth, but something held him back. Not now, he decided. Later.

Ryan blazed a path out the door and down the driveway, in silence.

)-)-)-)

Ryan gently laid a few daisies on Marissa's stone. Or Marissa's monument, depending on how you looked at it–carvings, angels, doves...Julie Cooper had pulled out all stops on her daughter's grave. Either she genuinely bad about how things had been, or some wanted a presentable profile for Marissa in death. Or for herself.

Ryan had never been able to verbalize what he had thought of Marissa, when it was all said and done. He mumbled out a eulogy at her funeral, but it was nothing inspired, and hardly representative of what he felt.

Mostly, he didn't know what he felt. Well, he did. Mostly, he felt pity. Sometimes, when he thought about it, he wished he had love for her, but it just wasn't registering. He felt bad for her, but couldn't feel for her.

Lindsay had taken that place, without...everything. Maybe it was for the best.

After silently staring at the marker for a while, he twisted together the last few flowers he had and walked a short distance, to where Summer laid.

He knew what to say to her: "Take care of her. You know how to." Placing his flowers, he looked up and nodded toward Seth, standing a short distance away. Seth just nodded back. Quietly, as Ryan walked toward him, Seth went by him going the other way and approached his old love.

Ryan's modest bouquet of a couple tulips were buried under a dozen red roses. He didn't pretend to hide how he felt, and he certainly never lost how he felt. Anna knew. She helped pick out the roses, when Seth first picked up a limp bunch. She knew that Summer occupied certain parts of his heart, that she wasn't going to get at. She knew she was no replacement for her.

I don't want to be Summer, honey, she had told him. I just want to make you happy.

Running his fingertips over her name, Seth felt tears trickle down his cheeks. Anna was far, far too kind to him. She didn't deserve to be the understudy. She didn't deserve to be limited to perking him up.

She didn't deserve a futile mission. Seth Cohen knew, as he looked at the what was left of his love, that he was not going to be happy, ever again.