Okay. This is an astronomically long chapter for me. I hope you like it. It gets a little...dramatic at the end. And anger is a hard thing for me to write. I try to avoid angry exclamation marks at all costs, and I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Regardless, thanks so much for all of the lovely reviews you sent along. Please keep up the good work. ;) And just to clarify...the Claremont is actually a hotel in Berkeley, but I have no idea whether there is actually a street called Greenwich or not. Just in case there are any, like, western California experts out there who might spot my potential error. ;)

As for the title of this chapter? It belongs to the fabulous Beta Band.

PrincessOats435: Oh, man, I am right there with you hating the cold. How much does it suck? We got about a foot and a half of snow this weekend and I'm totally miserable.

Brenda Osler: Thank god someone is with me on the fear of talking babies. Also? I wanted Ryan to come along, too. But I sort of had to have him stay back in Newport because...you'll see why in the next chapter. ;)

Rachel: I've been having some computer troubles but as soon as things start working again I'll check out your stories! I'm very excited! ;) My New Year's Eve sort of sucked because I was sick and then I made it worse by raiding the alcoholic remains of my parents' party...but it was okay. ;)And Summer? She'll be back. Probably the next chapter.

Dulcey: Yay! You're back and you updated! I hope all is well with your "real life issues"—I totally know the feeling and I hope everything's goingokay for you! ;)

All righty...here we go!

xoxo

Chapter 20: Assessment

"Do you think Ryan will be okay on his own?" Kirsten asked the next day, once she and Sandy were on the road.

"We're going to be gone for three days, honey. He's fine."

"I hope nothing happens."

"If it does, he can call one of the ninety-six emergency numbers you left for him." She disregarded his ridicule.

"Is your cell phone on?"

"He's seventeen, not seven." She sighed, clearly still unsettled. "We're talking about one of the most responsible kids on the planet. Well, the reformed most responsible."

"I know." She nodded and, determined to calm her nerves, changed the subject. "So, where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Please tell me?"

"We're driving, sweetie. You'll be able to see for yourself soon enough." Defeated, she pulled a book from her purse as Sandy turned the Dodgers game on the radio.

"I could drive, if you wanted," she offered deviously a moment later, unable to keep her eyes on the book. "You could just tell me where to go..." He glanced over at her, grinning.

"This is killing you, isn't it?"

"You have no idea." He nodded at her book, gesturing for her to continue reading.

"Neither do you."

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"Wake up, hon, we're here." He put a hand on her shoulder through the open window and her eyes fluttered open. She glanced around groggily.

"Where are we?"

"We are at the Claremont," he announced proudly. She stared at him blankly. "Berkeley's very finest!" Sandy explained.

"Oh, Sandy!" She climbed out of the car and glanced around. "God, I haven't been back here in forever!"

"I figured we could just...hang out. Go to the beach, sightsee, whatever. Assuming you still love the sightsee. You were a little vague earlier," he said, shrugging and offering a teasing smile.

"We always say we're going to come back to visit and we never do!"

"Are you happy?" She smiled, taking his head in her hands and kissing him.

"I am definitely happy."

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"This place really hasn't changed," Kirsten remarked as they walked around.

"Not a bit," Sandy agreed. "Seth's preschool..." He nodded at a nearby building.

"God, are we old?" she asked. "I still sort of feel like that was yesterday."

"He got put in the 'Quiet Corner' on his first day because he wouldn't stop walking during sharing time," Sandy remembered, smiling. "We're not old."

"If school is there, that means that if we take a left at the end of this block..." she trailed off, quickening her pace.

"Greenwich Drive," Sandy agreed.

"Nine-twenty-eight!" Kirsten said, stopping in front of their old house.

"It looks good," he commented, sliding an arm around her waist. "Someone got around to fixing it up."

"God, I loved this house." She studied it, looking slightly confused. "It's empty." He peered through the front window and saw that she was right, the inside of the house was completely stripped.

"Maybe someone else sold out and moved to a four-million-dollar mansion in Newport Beach!" Sandy chimed in. Kirsten smiled sarcastically.

"I sort of feel better than no one's living here," she said, cocking her head. "It's kind of nice to not have to see our old life completely taken over."

"I know what you mean." He kissed the top of her head. "You want to go in the backyard?" Kirsten glanced around nervously.

"Do you think it's okay?"

"We have history," he said, smiling. "I think we're allowed." He took her hand and they walked around to the back of the house. "My swing!" Sandy exclaimed upon spotting an old rope swing tied to a tree branch. "They kept my swing!"

"That took you an exceptionally long time to build," Kirsten mused, laughing, as it was just a plank of wood tied on with rope. "And as I recall...you rode on it more than Seth did."

"This is a very finely crafted piece of swingsettery," he protested. "Can I interest you in a ride, Mrs. Cohen?"

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Fine. You're pushing me then." Kirsten rolled her eyes but positioned herself behind the swing and gave him a firm shove. "You don't know what you're missing, honey!" he called as the swing took him for a weak ride.

"Somehow I think I'll survive," she replied dryly, smiling. He let the swing slow to a stop and pulled her close to him.

"Remember when we moved in here?" She smiled, nodding. "You were pregnant with Seth and there was a thunderstorm."

"Oh, that was a fun day," she said sardonically.

"We had a good time," he protested, and she smiled.

"We did."

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Kirsten looked around the hotel room and set down her Blackberry. Sandy had left over an hour ago, promising to return with dinner. She had already listened to all of her messages, returned three calls, and bid on a new development. Now she was restless. Sandy was insistent about the food he was going to go get but now she was slightly concerned. She picked up her phone to call him but at that moment she heard his key in the door and he came into the room.

"Thank god," she said, getting up to greet him. "I was worried."

"Sorry, sweetheart. I brought pizza." She looked at the box.

"I remember this place!"

"That's why I went there." He smiled, opening the box. Their smiles both faded into looks of disgust. "Oh, man."

"I can't believe we used to ear this," she laughed. He gingerly picked up a slide.

"Maybe we've just become pizza snobs. If that's gonna happen...Orange County is the place to do it to you." He took a bite and made a face. "Or maybe this really is the worst pizza ever. The world may never know."

"Thanks for trying," she said, kissing him. "I'm not really that hungry, anyways." He raised his eyebrows.

"No? Me either. Well...there is one thing that I'm very hungry for."

"What?" She eyed him suspiciously. He pulled her onto the bed.

"Love. I'm hungry for love." She laughed as he kissed her.

"Ew," she said, unable to hold back a familiar high school sentiment. She noticed a newspaper sticking out of his pocket and pulled it out. "What's this?"

"Oh!" He sat up and took it from her. "It's a present for you!"

"Oh...you...shouldn't have?"

"No, no...just...page nine," he said eagerly, handing it back to her. She curiously turned to page nine and spotted the section he had circled with pen. "Nine-twenty-eight Greenwich Drive. Spacious two-story home...two bedrooms, two baths, new hardwood, substantial back yard..." He looked at her expectantly.

"Sandy...what is this?"

"Four hundred! How great is that?"

"That's...nice. But why are you showing me this?" He took her hands.

"We loved that house, honey. And Ryan would like it here...you could get away from the ungodly Cooper-Nichol union and I could start my own practice. I talked to the realtor and she said that everything was fixed up by the previous owner. She's got someone else who might be interested but as soon as I mentioned that you were from the Newport Group she said that we had first dibs."

"I...I don't know what to say." She cocked her head as he watched her eagerly. "You talked to a realtor?"

"Well, yeah, I just...I saw the ad and I had to give it a shot." He studied her. "You're not happy."

"I'm just...a little overwhelmed, I guess. We can't move, Sandy." His face fell.

"Why not?"

"Because...we have a life," she said defensively. "We have history there. Pretty extensive history. We can't just pick up and move."

"But that's the beauty of it! We can! We'll fill out some transfer forms for Ryan and you can let your father down easy and I'll tell Partridge, Savage, and Kahn to go to hell!"

"It's not that simple."

"Why?"

"I like Newport," she said quietly. "I like our house and the neighborhood and...the Newpsies have their moments, and Jimmy, when he isn't making inappropriate sexual advances. And Summer? She's started to depend on me as a mother figure and it's a role I'm happy to take on." She sighed. "And my mom...and, you know, my dad. Hailey. I have some really great memories."

"We have memories here."

"I know. Of course we do. It's just..."

"They aren't as good?"

"Sandy. No."

"Then what? Explain this to me." She'd hurt his feelings, she could tell. She sighed.

"It's complicated."

"I just wanted to do something nice for you," he said quietly. "If I'd have known you were so...attached to Newport, I never would have brought this up in the first place."

"Seth," she whispered desperately. "It's about Seth. I don't want to leave in case...I don't know. Moving here would just feel so...shameful. Final."

"Oh." He took a ginger seat in a nearby armchair.

"Sandy, it's nice thought. All of your thoughts are nice thoughts. All you do, ever, are nice things for me." She gave him a small smile. "I'm incredibly lucky, honey, and you're...amazing. And you're absolutely right that moving back here would make me happy...under any other circumstances. But right now, with all that's happened...I need something in our life to stay the same. It sounds so stupid that I find stability in our house, but I do. And I'm sorry that I'm being childish with all of this but...I can't give up on him yet. I'm not ready to let go."

"I shouldn't have sprung this on you."

"Have you?" she asked oddly, and he glanced up, confused.

"Have I what?"

"Let him go," she said quietly, meeting his eyes. He looked taken aback.

"I don't want to talk about this now, Kirsten." She nodded, looking more weary than upset.

"Okay. Then I'm going to go to bed." He watched her rummage through her suitcase and he undressed while she was changing in the bathroom. When she emerges he was under the covers in his boxers, his back to her. He wanted nothing more than to face her, look at her, fall asleep holding her, but he couldn't. He was scared and she was frustrated. It was not a romantic combination. She crawled in next to him and gently touched his shoulder.

"Goodnight, Sandy."

"Love you," he murmured. She sighed.

"You too." She turned out the lights and he was allowed to be as awake as he wanted without her seeing. He knew she wouldn't bother him, wouldn't pick a fight. But somehow he felt like just seeing her would make him lose his mind. Seth had her facial structure, a certain delicacy underneath the overall masculinity he had inherited from his father. Sometimes Kirsten would tilt her head a certain way or laugh or blink and it would hit him like a ton of bricks that Seth was gone. In his present weakened state, he knew that he couldn't handle that. He was staring straight ahead, facing her now, and suddenly she clicked on a lamp and eliminated the dark that was surrounding him.

"Sorry, I have a headache. I just need some aspirin. I'll turn it off in a second." He couldn't help but watch her as she searched through her purse, and her current frustrated expression set him off. He quickly rolled over just in case the tears that were threatening to fall actually did. She got back into bed and turned off the light and he reveled too much in the return of the blackness. He took a deep breath and it escaped as a sob, one she distinctly heard.

"Sandy? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." His voice broke and she turned on the light again, sitting up.

"Sandy, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, honey. Something in my throat. I'm fine."

"Hey," she said, gently resting a hand on his back. He guided him over to her and studied him. "Honey, what's the matter?"

"Really, nothing. My throat just got dry for a second and—"

"Sandy," she said firmly. He hadn't shed any actual tears, but she could tell he was on the verge.

"I miss him," he admitted quietly. She ran a hand through his hair.

"I know. Me too."

"Maybe I did this because I'm anxious to get away from...everything. Anything. I don't even know. I just feel like he's everywhere I turn."

"I know the feeling." She sighed and leaned against him. "If this is what you need to do...then maybe we should do it. Buy the house. Move out here. Try to get on with our lives."

"I don't know if I even want to. I don't know what I want anymore."

"It's been six months," she pointed out. "That's half a year he could have called us."

"He knows better."

"I know," she whispered, looking away.

"He's gone, isn't he?"

"How did we let this happen?" She dodged his question with one of her own.

"He was having a really hard time. We tried, sweetie. We did everything we could."

"I wasn't around enough," she said thoughtfully.

"Honey, he didn't leave because of you."

"But I wasn't. All those years when he was growing up...it was like how my dad was with me. I was working and I wasn't around and I bought him things to compensate. That's probably where he got the notion that it's okay to leave your family."

"Hey," he was suddenly very stern "Don't you ever compare yourself to Caleb, okay? You're a wonderful mother, Kirsten. Seth adored you." Her eyes filled with tears and he wrapped his arms around her.

"We were always so much closer to him than other people were with their kids. I thought that was a good thing."

"It was. He didn't keep secrets from us. He only lied to us a few times. He kept us informed, we kept him informed. It was a good thing."

"I hate this," she confirmed. He absently stroked her hair.

"What are we supposed to do? We can't wait forever," he said. She hated the way that sounded; it made them seem so cruel.

"I don't know. When do you stop waiting?"

"I think...the sooner we let go, the easier this will be for us in the long run. I feel like I need some closure...but that's not likely. So I think we're just going to have to call the shots here and go with what feels right."

"The only way it's going to 'feel right' is if we find Seth alive," Kirsten said bitterly, moving away from him. He froze, taken aback. "Maybe you can, Sandy, but I have no idea how to 'call the shots' when it comes to forgetting my son."

"Who said anything about forgetting him? I was just suggesting that we start attempting to...rebuild. Get some semblance of our old life back."

"What the hell does that even mean? How can we rebuild a family if we're missing one of the members? I'm so sick of all of this psychological nonsense about reconstruction and...normalcy. Nothing is ever going to be normal again. Am I the only one who gets that?"

"I'm not the one who made us to go to a shrink," Sandy snapped.

"What, then? You came along just to humor me? How very chivalrous of you. What a stand-up guy you are, Sandy, catering to my outrageous demands. " He opened his mouth to speak but then weakly closed it. He shook his head slightly.

"I don't want to fight with you, Kirsten." She was surprised—but not unhappy—to hear this.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, ashamed. "Neither do I."

"It's too late to be doing this. And this isn't the place. We should wait until we get home. Talk to Ryan, too."

"Right. I...I didn't mean any of that, Sandy." He smirked.

"It's okay if you did." She blushed, fighting off a smile.

"Maybe I meant some of it. Just...with more eloquence. And...civility."

"I had a feeling." The air was still awkward between them but he smiled at her before he reached for the light. "Goodnight, Kirsten."

"Goodnight."