Growing Up Chino
The Harbor School's Class of 2006 (or whatever) has its 20th reunion.
The sound of the front door slamming into the wall and the nails-on-blackboard squeaking of sneaker clad feet racing across the foyer's marble flooring echoed up the stairwell. These distant sounds extracted only a groan from the lone occupant of the bed in the master suite. It took the undeniable, the unmistakable, the inescapable sounds of feet pounding up the stairs toward the master bedroom to pry one, bloodshot eye open. Seth Cohen rolled slowly onto his side and peered blearily through the darkness created by the bank of curtains that screened out the morning sun. The digital face of the bedside clock said 8:00 am. What was his mother thinking? She knew that Zach and he had gone out last night to catch up – his personal code for getting totally shitfaced on Zach's expense account.
Seth and Zach had done the bare minimum amount of business necessary at the restaurant last night to satisfy the IRS. The remainder of the evening they had spent catching up since Zach's last trip out from Chicago and commiserating with each other about life with and without Summer Roberts. Mom of all people should have understood the need to keep up pretenses around the ever present eyes and ears of THE KIDS. Even hung-over and semiconscious he heard the emphasis his mind gave to those two words.
It was all some form of fiendish, delayed, parental revenge that they never told you that trying to set a good example for your kids meant that you either gave up everything that was fun or else you became a hypocrite. But here he was: divorced, frighteningly close to the BIG 4-0 (he heard those capital letters in his head too), and with kids that needed watching in the evening if he wanted any Seth adult time. Recovery time from the inevitable hangover had been the whole reason for the grandparents' sleepover. Surely Kirsten understood what role life had intended the grandparents to play in their adult children's lives.
Mom and Dad were to have kept the kids until this afternoon. At that time (sometime after they'd had their lunch) he'd pick them up, bring them home, get them cleaned up and changed, and then they'd meet the folks for dinner at six for the "circus." He made a mental note to himself that he needed to go over his speech one more time. He wanted it to be just right.
Feet stampeding down the hallway accompanied by bursts of childish laughter and giggling drew nearer and finally came to a stop just outside his door. Every other thought in his head fled in the face of the impending invasion of his sanctuary. Maybe, he thought, if he just buried himself deeper in his bed and pulled the comforter all the way over his head his mom would show him some of the famous Kirsten Cohen compassion and take the kids away, far away. He needed at least six hours of sleep to function; and if his math skills hadn't dissolved in the sea of tequila he and Zach had done laps in last night, he was still three hours short of that minimum.
With a mounting sense of dread, he heard the buzz of whispered conversation coming through the door. Occasionally the volume rose and its tone deepened as his oldest tried to reason with his sister. Just when Seth had allowed himself to be lulled into the belief that Kirsten would arrive and take them away, his bedroom door hit the wall with an appalling noise. Two bodies, in a coordinated attack, landed one on each side of him. The swaying motion this created in the waterbed was most unsettling both to his head and his stomach.
"Wake up, Dad!" Ryan tugged at the comforter.
"Daddy, we've got a surprise. A surprise, a surprise, a surprise." The air puffed out of him as Lizzie, his youngest, crawled onto his stomach and began to bounce along in time to her little jingle. She gathered up a double hand full of the comforter into her small hands and pulled with all her might; but Seth, having waged and won The Great Coverlet War against a cagy and savvy opponent in his youth, was not to be caught unprepared now by a six year old. He held on to it as though his very life depended on it.
"Come on Daddy," his daughter said voicing her childish exasperation at the stupidity of adults. "It's a really cool surprise."
"Kids, it's too early for surprises - cool or otherwise," was Seth's muffled response from beneath the covers. "Honey, have Nana take you down to the pier to watch the sea lions - for like a couple of hours," he muttered under his breath. "Daddy will be ready for surprises after he's had a few more hours of sleep."
"Ewww! Daddy's got dragon's breath." The disgust was plain in his daughter's voice. "Really, really bad dragon's breath. It's so bad I'm going to have to hold my breath." Seth could picture his Lizzie making a show of holding her nose against the noisome odor seeping out from beneath his covers. He ignored her comment as a cynical attempt at distraction and took an extra tight grip on the covers. As he had anticipated, a fierce tug followed her words that must have been a joint effort by both children. It failed and he felt as pleased with himself as a person with a raging hangover could feel with fifty-five pounds of wiggling child ensconced on his stomach. Still got it!
"Dumbkopf, that's booze breath." His son said with the superior knowledge of his five year age advantage. "He and Uncle Zach went partying last night."
"Uncle Zach was here? Daddy, why couldn't I go? I like parties!" A small fist landed on his chest. "Uncle Zach's my favorite uncle."
Seth rubbed at the spot on his chest. Small but mighty - she is her mother's daughter, Seth thought.
"Shut up half-pint!" Ryan hissed.
"But he is. Uncle Zach sends the best presents of anyone at Christmakkuh. You like him too. Why are you being so mean?"
"Drop it shrimp! It was an adults only party. Do you get it now? No Halflings. You are such a baby." The irritation of the almost twelve with the just six could be heard in Ryan's voice.
"Ryan, don't call your sister names."
"See, I told you," Lizzie said smugly.
"Did not!"
"Did, too!"
"Not!"
"Ryan, where's The Nana?" Seth asked more loudly and with a little more desperation than he'd intended to show in his voice. The words echoed in his head.
"That's what Elizabeth and I have been trying to tell you Dad. That's the surprise. Nana didn't bring us." Ryan paused to let his news soak in before continuing. He was rewarded as Seth slowly showed two bloodshot eyes over the edge of the coverlet.
Ryan gestured toward the doorway. "Mom brought us!"
Seth's head turned slowly, reluctantly toward the door. He had to control the impulse to dive back under the covers when he saw that Summer was indeed standing in the doorway, left hand on hip, as fresh and stylishly turned out as if she were going shopping. She returned Seth's stare with all the dispassionate interest of a scientist contemplating a particularly disgusting fungus.
"Cohen," Summer said in greeting.
"Summer, you didn't tell me you were coming." Seth said as he tried to ease Liz off his chest and sit up.
"It's my twentieth reunion too, remember? Besides Coop's the head of the planning committee. How could I not come back for her?"
"Well, since this is the last day of the reunion, you almost managed it. You should have tried harder," he said sourly.
Summer's eyes narrowed. "Whatever. Maybe I came back because it's your big night; or maybe I came back for the kids' sake. Tonight is a big deal and the whole family should be there to share it with you. We should show Harbor that we're all proud of you."
For the briefest moment her mask slipped and she gave him one of the old Summer smiles. It caught him off guard and left him confused. He hadn't been on the receiving end of one of those since their second divorce. Maybe she means it.
His ex-wife killed the moment by proceeding to ignore him. She gave Ryan and Elizabeth a big smile and held out her arms to them. "Come on guys. Let your father get up. He's got lots of work to do to get ready." Her smile turned sarcastic. "Let's go down to the kitchen and see if Daddy has anything in the refrigerator besides lime juice and sweet and sour mix. If not," she directed a baleful eye at him, "we'll let him take us out to breakfast."
"Yes, breakfast! I want French toast and crunchy bacon," exclaimed Liz enjoying one last bounce on Daddy's stomach.
"Are you going to tell him about the other surprise, Mom?" Ryan's voice dropped down an octave into the tenor range as he asked his question. His expression was serious. He sounded and looked so grown up to Seth as he stood there rocking on his heels watching his father.
"Another surprise, Summer? Let me guess." Seth pressed a hand against his mouth. "I know. You're married again," Seth pushed back the covers as Liz finally relented and slid giggling off to the side. His little girl didn't paid any attention to his sarcastic comment but the look of panic that flashed across Ryan's face made Seth's head and heart both ache.
The panic was replaced immediately by the slouch, and the indifferent, surly teen face that Ryan had been practicing lately. It slammed down into place like a heavy steel security gate. Ryan was learning how to hide his thoughts and feelings from his parents. Seth didn't think that his Ryan had ever seen his uncle do the close down thing; but Seth had and the resemblance was painfully close.
It had been a dumb thing to say in front of the kids, Seth reflected, as he slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed. Summer brings out the worst in me. He sat there bent forward, his head down. We bring out the worst in each other. He thought in a moment of bitter honesty. Seth refused, however, to give her the pleasure of seeing him drop his head into his hands to try to still the pounding in there. He raised his head and stared at her.
"Yes, Cohen, there is someone new in my life." Seth saw his son stiffen. Ryan stood facing his father and so Summer had missed both the effect on their son of Seth's snarky comment and his response to her sarcastic jab. "How nice of you to ask. But, no, there aren't any wedding plans in the offing, yet." Summer smiled as she watched Liz use the silky coverlet as a slide to get off the bed. She ran to the door and stood by her mother.
Summer resumed the detached, fungus watching expression as she took in Seth's, so far, feeble attempts to get going. "But how weird is it that my two exes go out drinking together. You guys are pathetic."
Seth fixed her with his bloodshot eyes. "A writer can have a few drinks with his agent, can't he?"
"Children, I think the surprise can wait until after breakfast. Your Daddy needs some coffee first. What do you say, guys?" Elizabeth held her hands over her mouth and giggled. Ryan just nodded gravely. "Good. We're agreed." With a self-satisfied smile Summer swept the children up and headed for the kitchen.
As Seth staggered into his bathroom he was grateful that he'd at least remembered to get the juice for the kids that the housekeeper had put on the grocery list. He doubted that Summer would find anything else that she'd find acceptable for their breakfast so he'd have to get himself ready to be seen in public.
Looking into the mirror he realized that this would not be easy. The pale haggard face that stared back at him out of the mirror made him wish that he'd had fewer drinks last night. The presence of Summer Roberts in their former bedroom, at 8:00 am, on a Saturday morning made him wish that he'd had more to drink.
It wasn't fair he thought. Mom was supposed to have handled breakfast today, Saturday. He'd planned to take the kids out for brunch tomorrow. All he had needed to do was have food in the house before Monday morning when the housekeeper came back to work. Now he was going to have to hear Summer lecture him again on his shortcomings as a father.
Trying for the optimism, he comforted himself with the thought that the other surprise couldn't be too bad if the kids knew about it and were so excited.
Summer glanced over at Seth who'd remained unnaturally quiet on the trip down to the pier and breakfast. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses and so he might be asleep, she supposed. That would explain his silence better than a new found, never before demonstrated reticence to talk just for the pleasure of hearing the Cohen voice.
Elizabeth, however, had more than made up for her Daddy's silence. She'd maintained a non-stop recital of everything that she had done, with occasional nods to significant events in Ryan's life, since Summer had come out from New York last month. Ryan maintained a stoic silence during her girlish babble but interjected a male perspective whenever he felt his sister's version of events had strayed too far from reality or his own honor was being impugned. Summer smiled in amazement at the leap the Cohen babble gene had made from the male to the female line of the family. Her smile turned thoughtful. Perhaps, just naming their son after Ryan had been enough to immunize him against its pernicious effects.
As she pulled into a space in the pier's parking lot, Seth yawned and stretched. He slowly turned his head toward her.
"So you were asleep. I knew it." Summer said switching off the engine. "I knew you had to be either asleep or dead. Although, as I recall, you also babble in your sleep." Summer shook her head. "I never got one good night's sleep in all the years we were married. Maybe if I still cared now, one way or the other, I would have been concerned enough about the dead option to have checked." She gave him a sweet smile.
Summer ignored the finger Seth flipped her out of sight of the Ryan and Liz in the backseat. "Grow up Cohen! You are such a guy."
Seth blew her a kiss. "That used not to be such a turnoff for you."
Summer gave a visible shudder. Turning in her seat she beamed at the children and inquired cheerfully, "Now who's ready for a big breakfast?" This brought enthusiastic agreement from the backseat and a noncommittal sound that resembled a groan from the front passenger seat.
Everyone enjoyed a hearty breakfast except for Seth who opted for dry toast and black coffee. In rebuttal to Summer's suggestion that his stomach wasn't up to anything else, he loudly proclaimed he had started a new diet.
"Why," was Summer's question.
Seth gestured expansively. "Look at me. Even though I still have the body of an Adonis…," he struck a pose that brought laughter from the children and a loud snort from Summer, "I need to be ever vigilant lest the middle age spread set in." He gave Summer a pointed look.
Summer pursed her lips. She hated that he still did have the same slim, lanky body of the guy she'd mocked and finally fallen in love with in high school. No gray hairs were visible yet in his curls; but then it was California, so maybe he dyed it, she thought spitefully. She'd noticed that there were more wrinkles around his eyes and he didn't seem to smile as much anymore either but then, she guessed, none of them did.
Summer took up his unspoken challenge. "I still wear the same size that I did when we graduated from Harbor, Seth Cohen." However, she refused to think about all the chickens that had died to supply her with the endless grilled chicken breasts she'd consumed, the boring salads she'd endured, or the hours she had spent at the gym each week to be able to say that. She reassured herself that she did these things out of necessity and simple self-defense and not out of any personal vanity. She was sure she wasn't vain. It was all those perky, petite, hungry, just-out-of-college bitches with their tight tits and firm asses who thought they should have her job at Vogue that made her do itThey let her know every day in a hundred subtle and not so subtle ways that they thought her too middle aged for her job. She'd shown them all though. She still looked damned good for being the mother of two.
"Can we go see the sea lions now, Mommy?" Elizabeth asked when she'd finished her French toast. She tried to sit quietly in her seat but her whole body vibrated with excitement.
At Summer's raised eyebrows, Seth explained, "A colony moved into the harbor two weeks ago and took over one of the floating docks in the marina. Lizzie is quite fascinated by them." He turned to his son. "Ryan, take your sister to see the sea lions but make sure she doesn't fall in this time." Ryan rolled his eyes at his Dad and looked hopefully toward his Mom for rescue. Liz didn't wait for her brother, however. She bounded out of her seat and had almost reached the door before her father's shout brought her up short. "Sophia Elizabeth Cohen, wait for your brother!"
"Dad, please!" Ryan groaned in exasperation. Finding his father unsympathetic and his mother only amused he slid slowly out of the booth. Glancing over at his sister, he saw her considering the giant koi that swam lazily inside a huge tank by the door.
Ryan turned a calculating look at his parents. "So, like how long do the kids have to make themselves scarce?" Suspicion radiated from him. "You two didn't use to fight in public places. You always waited until after you got home and put us to bed."
"No fighting today old man. It's a promise," Seth said seriously.
"Me too. Promise." Summer held up her right hand as though swearing an oath. "Your father and I just need catch up time."
Somewhat reassured, Ryan stated emphatically, "Okay but I am not going to hold Lizzie's hand on the pier. Someone might see us." At his father's nod of understanding he joined his sister by the fish tank and herded her out of the diner. Summer watched through the window as they stopped outside on the pier and had what appeared to be a serious conversation. As Ryan led the way toward the floating dock with its colony of sea lions, she saw her daughter reach out and put one small finger through a belt loop on her brother's jeans.
"So are we going to fight? Is that why you're back?" Seth asked curiously. He rubbed at his forehead with two fingers.
"Is there something we should fight about? Are you having feelings of guilt, Mr. Cohen?" Summer inquired. "If we were going to fight, I could bring up the stories in the media about the new, swinging, bachelor-around-town, life style you've been living now that you're in show business. The girls I've seen you with in photographs hardly look older than your son. What were you thinking? I know what you were thinking with."
"Well, they are older than Ryan but they're playing sixteen year-olds in the movie so they need to look young. Jealous? I would think you'd want me to help the producers find just the right actress to play you."
"The girls in the pictures, I've seen, have all been blonds."
"Oh. Well, I'm helping them cast the Marissa character first. She has a bigger role in the movie than you have." Seth shrugged. "I really didn't think you were coming back for the reunion but here you are. Something smells, Summer."
"You mean beside your dragon breath?"
Seth rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."
"Yeah, something is up. It's the other surprise the kids wanted to tell you about this morning." Summer stopped and looking past Seth waved to someone. He twisted in the booth to see who was joining them. Marissa Cooper had just entered the diner. "Everyone's here now, Cohen. So when Marissa gets here I can tell you both at the same time."
Summer slid out of the booth as Marissa approached and gave her a hug. Seth sat slumped over with his head in one hand and stirred his coffee with the other. He waved absently at Marissa with his spoon.
As they separated Marissa looked Summer over. "Summer, you look fantastic. How do you do it - and with two kids?" She brushed a strand of hair behind an ear. "I know I couldn't. That's why I only have stepchildren."
"Who all adore you no matter what your current marital relations are with their fathers."
"I can't imagine why. Their fathers certainly don't feel that way. But then, of course, I am seriously deficient in marital skills and have three ex-husbands to prove it. But that's no surprise. Look at my role model." She laughed.
Summer slid back into the booth and Marissa joined her. "You could do it if you wanted it badly enough," Summer said thoughtfully. "If you found the right guy…" She caught the pained look on Marissa's face and stopped.
Marissa looked down at her hands that were playing with the zipper of her large canvas shoulder bag. "I had the right guy once."
Summer rushed on ignoring the look Seth flashed her. "Look at me. With all the stepmonsters I went through growing up, I should have ended up sending my children out into the woods without any breadcrumbs to be eaten by wolves like the stepmother in Hansel and Gretel."
"I like gingerbread," Seth offered helpfully from across the table "especially, with hard sauce."
Summer scowled at him darkly and continued. "You're right; it is good to have a stable family experience to draw on. Luckily, we had one in the family. Cohen, here, is an example. He's a great father…" Seth sat straighter in the booth and threw out his chest. Summer rewarded him with a tightlipped smile and finished, "but the world's worst husband. I give Sandy all the credit for his parenting skills."
Summer turned in the booth to study Marissa. "You look good, too, Coop. For two broads who'll never see 30 again, we both look damn good! Right, Cohen?"
"Yeah, right. If I wasn't afraid of becoming a three-time loser, I'd consider marrying one of you myself."
Summer rolled her eyes at her ex. "But you're looking thinner, Marissa. What's up with that? You only get that borderline anorexic look when there's a new man in your life." Marissa didn't look up but a smile played around the edges of her mouth. Summer's eyes widened. "I knew it. There is someone new. You've been holding out on me. Who is he? How'd you meet? Tell me everything." Summer bobbed up and down in the booth as she gripped Marissa's hand.
"Okay, there is someone." Marissa tucked that recalcitrant strand of hair behind her ear yet again. "His name is Cole. We met at the club about three weeks ago."
Seth looked up from his coffee. "Pool-boy, busboy, or caddy?" He asked. "How old is this one?"
"Seth," Summer said ominously. Seth gave her a wicked smile and opened his mouth as though about to say more when he let out a yelp of pain. The toe of Summer's shoe had connected with his shin.
"It's okay, Summer. That was a big mistake but it was so long ago. I just wish people would forget about it and move on." Her gaze settled on Seth who gave her an innocent "who me" look. "Everyone said that Stan looked at least eighteen. Most people thought he looked a couple of years older than that even. How was I supposed to know he was only sixteen? He was very mature for his age," she said defensively. In a stronger voice she continued. "I broke it off as soon as I found out."
"How old did you say err – Cole is?" Seth prompted. The sound of Summer's foot wasn't muffled by Seth's shin this time and the noise when her shoe hit the booth echoed in the diner and brought stares from the people in their area. Seth sat with both his legs drawn up onto the seat.
"He's twenty-four and got his MBA from USC in June."
Summer's smile wavered but she managed to mask her disappointment at the age difference. "Are you bringing him to the dinner tonight?"
"Yes, I thought I would give the Newpsies something new to gossip about – Marissa Cooper and her new boy toy." Marissa giggled and preened. "He's very good looking, Sum. You know I've never seen him in a suit but I can tell you he looks great in a speedo."
Seth choked on his coffee. He shot a look at his former wife as he mopped up the coffee he'd spilled on the table. Summer answered with a warning look and a small head shake. When he'd regained the use of his voice Seth offered only a mild, "I'm looking forward to meeting him, Marissa." Marissa smiled and sat up straighter in the booth.
Summer sighed. She hoped that Seth would keep quiet now until she had an opportunity to tell them her news. But just as she was turning back to Marissa, Seth added innocently, "He'll probably enjoy hearing the selection of amusing anecdotes from our happy high school days at Harbor I've prepared for tonight. The good ole days, as it were." Seth was now the center of attention for two sets of worried eyes.
Marissa brushed her hair back from her face and leaned forward toward him, her thin arms on the table. "I've been trying to reach you all week, Seth, to talk to you about this speech. You haven't returned any of my messages. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to avoid me." Seth gave her a look of injured innocence.
She continued, "Most of our Distinguished Alumni Award winners in the past have accepted their award, said thank you, and sat down. It's quite an honor to receive this award so young. I'm so proud of you. People don't usually receive it until they're way past 60 and have given a building or something to the school. A few remarks are okay," she reached into her bag and pulled out a big day planner, "but I need to know how much time to allow you. There are some other items on the agenda after your award."
Summer spoke up, "You wouldn't have any reason to be ducking Coop's calls would you, Seth?" She hit him with the look that Seth had referred to as 'the Laser' during their marriages. He claimed that it had the ability to cut through all his bullshit. Summer had a bad, a very bad feeling about this.
"What amusing anecdotes would you be referring to, Cohen? You hated Harbor until Chino came to live with you guys. Even after that, life for you at Harbor only went from terrible to merely tolerable. What's up?"
Seth's innocent smile vanished and he sat up in the booth. "Big honor? I've had five books published and won a Newberry Award for best children's book. But no one ever said boo to me from Harbor, except for the nice lady from the annual fund drive who calls every October, until Growing up Chino got optioned for a movie. Then I suddenly became someone of note and had done something worthy of recognition. A big budget movie with name stars makes you a success in this town. Why shouldn't I share some personal vignettes of my life at Harbor and how much it meant to me, how much it meant to all of us."
"What have you been smoking, Cohen? People don't want to hear the truth about high school. Most people want to remember it as a 'golden time' - the best years of their lives.
They don't want to be reminded how much it sucked. The rest, the realists, deal with it by never attending their reunions."
Summer leaned across the table and waved a finger in Seth's face. "People don't expect to come away from these things with anything worse than a mild case of heartburn from overcooked chicken and a little lighter in the pocketbook from all the donation requests. They do not want their night spoiled by a recitation of all your slights, imagined or real. And, what is this us stuff?"
"My kids are going to Harbor when they go to high school!" They'd had this argument many times before. She dared him to start it again. "Do you know how many weeks I spent getting that chicken scratch you call a signature right so I could get their early admission applications completed and submitted? I traded you the house in Newport for this. It's in the divorce settlement, Cohen." Seth seemed to be considering the wisdom of interrupting her. Her expression dared him to.
"I shudder to think what you might consider to be an amusing anecdote but you will not share them in front of our children about the school they'll be attending in a couple of years. You might as well send them off to the first day of high school with a big fucking target pinned to their backs." The profanity had the intended effect. Seth's face lost its sarcastic expression and became serious. "What are you thinking? Your parents will be there. Your own children will be there, you idiot! Do you want them to find out what a pathetic loser their father was in school? It's not just about you getting your little revenge."
Summer took a breath and said in a calmer voice, "Carol and the kids will be there tonight."
"Ryan's kids are coming to my dinner - tonight?" Seth sat back stunned, speechless.
"Yes, Ryan's wife and children are coming." Summer corrected.
Marissa smiled broadly. "That's wonderful, Coop."
"That's the other surprise, the one the kids were so excited about. You knew they were coming, didn't you? That's why you showed up on the last day of the reunion without a word to anyone." There was accusation in Seth's voice.
"It wasn't certain until a few days ago. There was nothing to tell you. Carol had enough miles and had the tickets for all of them but she had to get the time off from work."
"Miles? Dad would have bought her tickets if he knew she wanted to come."
"She's Ryan's wife. She pays her own way, Seth."
"We're family. It wouldn't have been charity." Summer only shrugged at him.
Seth's eyes narrowed and he studied Summer suspiciously. "She flew all the way down here with three kids by herself?"
Summer squirmed in her seat and took a bite of the toast remaining on her plate before answering. "No, Luke came down with her to help with them." At the look on Seth's face, Summer hurried on. "Don't get your shorts in a knot, Cohen. They're just friends."
"And you know this how?"
"Carol and I e-mail a lot and we talk maybe once a month. We've been doing that since I was in Seattle last summer. They're just friends. From the tone of Luke's e-mails, I think he might want something more but Carol says it's not in the cards. He's been a good friend to them since…"
"You e-mail Luke, too?" Seth interrupted.
"Get over it, Cohen. That family has needed someone, especially the boys. Luke and Ryan were good friends. I thought you and Luke were friends. Why not Luke?" She looked at Seth pointedly. "If there was something between them, so what? Luke gets a big gold star in my book for being willing to take on a widow with three kids."
"He's a player, Summer. Luke's never been serious about anyone in his whole life." He saw Marissa's pained look and hurried on. "It's just been one woman after another. He's a playboy who's not interested in a serious relationship. Sure, he turned the money he inherited from his dad into some really serious money but it didn't change who he is. No one, who dates as many beautiful women as he does, could be serious about settling down with someone else's ready made family."
"Seth, I've seen Luke with Carol and the kids. You haven't. He would do it if Carol gave him any encouragement." Summer watched his face. "I'm glad to hear you're concerned about Carol."
"I'm concerned about Ryan's kids."
Seth leaned back, his head against the window, and put his hand over his eyes. "They're coming tonight," he said disbelief still evident in his voice. His face angry, he turned back to Summer. "Last out in Seattle? I don't remember hearing anything about that."
"My work takes me to lots of places. Seattle just happens to be one of them. You wouldn't expect me to be in Seattle without looking up my niece and nephews, would you? Some only children enjoy the idea of having more family." Summer's temper was rising. "Seth Cohen, we've been married and divorced – twice! That makes it twice as unlikely that I'd share any details of my current activities with you or ask your opinion about anything."
"Well, I see, she's already at work," Seth muttered to himself.
"What exactly, Cohen, is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, forget it." He waved a hand as though his words were still hanging in the air like smoke.
"What is this grudge you have against Carol? What did she ever do to you?"
"She's the reason Ryan's dead," Seth said coldly.
Marissa, who'd been trying to pretend she was invisible and really wasn't hearing this conversation burst out. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard you say, Cohen; and I've heard you say some pretty dumb things. It was no one's fault except the hopped up crackhead who shot him."
Summer looked at her ex-husband with an expression of disbelief. "You never said that to Carol did you? Tell me you didn't," she pleaded.
"I may have said something like if Ryan had stayed in California he'd be alive today. I don't know; but it is true!" He said defensively. "I'm surprised she didn't share that with you since you're such e-mail buddies now." Seth looked down at his hands. They were clenched into fists and he made an effort to relax them.
"She's the one that got him into sociology. He took one required course, met her, and suddenly he's thinking with his dick instead of his head." He ignored Summer's glance at Marissa. "He must be the only person ever to graduate from UCLA with a double major in architecture and sociology. That was weird but he was a good architect and Mom still offered him a job at the Newport Group after he graduated. He would have been safe here designing MacMansions for the company and not trying to rescue some addict's kids from a bad home environment in Seattle's Central District. Or, if he had to go be all white knighty he could have stayed here in the OC with his family, with me, and not followed Carol back to Seattle for more school. There were people here in need of rescuing. People who live in mansions have problems too."
"But Carol kept him in Seattle. She wouldn't come back to California when they got their degrees in social work. Had sick parents, she said, that needed her there. So Ryan stayed in Seattle, and married her, and bled to death on the floor of a crack house. And for what? So some whore's brats could grow up in foster care and repeat the cycle all over again. It's Carol's fault Ryan's dead!"
"Hold it, Cohen. That's not the way it happened and you know it. Ryan died in the ER at Harborview and he got that chance only because those 'brats' called 911 for him and stayed with him 'til the paramedics came. Those kids understood what he was trying to do for them."
Summer shook her head and then asked quietly, "Seth, where did Ryan want to go to school?"
Seth looked up at her with a frown. "What? UCLA, of course."
"No, Seth, what was his first choice?"
"Like I said, UCLA."
Marissa watched Seth with a puzzled expression on her face. "But Seth, don't you remember how excited Ryan was about Yale and its architecture program? I'm sure that was his first choice. You must remember. I can remember you grumbling to me at the coffee bar at school that he 'was positively giddy at the chance to become a Bulldog.' Giddy is an adjective that I'm sure I never heard linked with Ryan's name before. That's why that conversation stuck with me. I never understood why he didn't go back East to school."
"Yes, Seth, why do you suppose Ryan didn't go to Yale? Why do you think he stayed here?" Summer asked.
Seth fidgeted in his seat. His hands were occupied making an airplane out of the paper place mat from under his plate. "That was twenty years ago. Who can remember something that happened so long ago?" Seth looked up when he got no response from Summer. "Oh, I guess it was a money thing. He was worried about how much more it would cost to go to that school in particular. Yale didn't offer him much assistance. Mom and Dad would have had to pay almost the entire amount. You know Ryan. He hated to feel like a freeloader. He always thought that my parents had done too much for him, that he'd never be able to repay them."
"Seth," Marissa interjected again, "Ryan told me that he and your parents had a big discussion about college. They told him they'd pay for him to go anywhere he was accepted. Why would he be worried about the cost?"
Seth scowled at her. "Who knows! Ryan was never big with the talking and the sharing. But the Newport Group was still struggling during our senior year, trying to get back on its feet, after grandpa's death. Your mom and mine were fighting over control of the company, remember? It was a very unsettled time. Maybe he got the idea that it would be a stretch for the family to send him to Yale. UCLA was near the top of the list of schools he applied to." Seth threw up his hands in exasperation. "I don't know why. It's all just speculation. We'll never know for sure." He wadded up the airplane he'd made and tossed it onto his plate.
Summer was relentless. "Where do you suppose Ryan got an idea like that from, Seth - that Yale was too expensive? It couldn't have been that you didn't want him to go away, that you wanted him to stay here and go to school with you, and so you put that idea into his head?"
"Look Summer. Ryan was a big boy and made his own decisions. I was no Svengali who hid behind the curtains and pulled Ryan's strings. You give me too much credit."
"Maybe, but if Ryan had gone to school at Yale he would probably never have met Carol Adams and he'd be alive today, living here in Newport, designing MacMansions for your mom, and hanging with you. So you see you can't blame Carol for Ryan's decision to go to Seattle. It was the end result of other ones he made before he ever met her. No one else is to blame, right?" Seth didn't answer. He sat slumped in his seat tracing patterns in the condensation on the water glass in front of him. "Right, Seth?" He nodded without meeting her eyes.
"So there's no reason for you to have a grudge against Carol. You've known her for over fifteen years. You were Ryan's Best Man at their wedding and made the sweetest, if the longest, toast that I've ever heard at their reception. She loved you and your dorky ways just as much as Ryan and you dumped all this on her when she needed you the most. I wondered why she and the kids didn't come down for Christmakkuh last year. The kids all had the flu, huh? After everything, just like Ryan, she covered your ass with your folks."
Summer attempted to reach across the table and take Seth's hand but he pulled away from her and folded his arms across his chest. "Okay, Cohen, I get it. We're not going to settle this here – now. The kids will be back soon. So, what are you going to do about these remarks of yours for tonight?"
Seth walked slowly to the podium from his family's table at the front of the banquet room. He hadn't shared the new speech he carried in his pocket with Summer despite all her best efforts. Seth had seen Summer's anxiety about his decision increase throughout dinner. Now he caught Summer's eye deliberately as he crossed the stage and smiled in what he hoped was a cryptic manner. The worry on her face intensified.
The 2026 Distinguished Alumni Award from the Harbor School now sat on a corner of the podium. It was tasteful, he admitted to himself, made of sea foam green glass with an inscription, and heavy. It would look nice in his office, he thought, and that was one more reason to have accepted it.
As he listened to the applause of those present tonight, he considered the irony of where he was and smiled again. His old school, the one he'd spent so many miserable years wishing he could be anywhere else but, had recognized him with its highest award. They'd given it to him for becoming a big Hollywood name, someone that would ensure that there'd be a write up in tomorrow's Times about tonight's event. The Harbor School would get lots of free column inches of publicity out of this gesture. He wasn't so naïve as to believe that it came from anything else; but as Zach had advised him, it would also be good for Seth Cohen too and ought to help him sell a few more books. It was, said Zach, a win-win situation.
Seth had intended to skewer them tonight for their hypocrisy. He suspected that few of those present had actually read any of his books, even the one that had created all the hoopla, Growing up Chino. They likely had no idea what it was about. Their teenage children had probably read it. His young adult and children's books were very popular.
He would have liked to believe that the nastier elements of Harbor life that he'd written about had disappeared under the pressure of anti-bullying rules and that that part of his book would be unfamiliar to any current Harbor students. Somehow, Seth doubted it. Bullying like hazing didn't seem to be one of those things that could be legislated out of kid's lives. He feared that the details of Ryan's and his life together at Harbor twenty years-ago would not read like ancient history but would strike a real chord of familiarity for some. Summer wonders why I'm so uncomfortable about sending the kids here.
If that part of his novel was painful, he hoped that current students would enjoy the roman a clef embedded inside his coming of age novel about an outsider and his life at a snobby, Orange County, day school. Some of the same faculty and staff that had made life difficult for him and his friends were still here. From his position at the podium he could see several familiar faces that had unflattering, supporting roles in the novel.
It had been his intention this morning, before his talk with Summer and Marissa, to recount some of the stories that hadn't made their way into Growing up Chino. Knowing that Ryan's wife and children would be present tonight hadn't changed that. His intention was the same; he only needed to select different stories.
As he finished his thank you's to the school, to the alumni committee, and everyone present he unfolded the notes of the speech he'd rewritten this afternoon. It had amazed him how easily it had flowed from his fingers, onto the screen of his computer's monitor, and then onto the paper.
"This is not the speech I had originally intended to give tonight. I had a totally different one that I had prepared but I learned this morning that my brother's wife and children would be joining us tonight. Since I'm modest enough - that sound you hear everyone is Summer Roberts, my ex-wife, choking at our table – to admit that the reason I'm here tonight accepting this award has more to do with my brother, Ryan Atwood, his remarkable life, and the kind of person he was, than it has to do with me, I decided to change the focus of my remarks. Ryan's wife, Carol, permitted me to write Growing up Chino for the benefit of her children and mine; and I don't think she'll mind me sharing these additional stories with you also."
"Things get left out of a novel for all sorts of reasons: lack of space, for instance, or the author's inability to find a suitable way to incorporate them into the story he wants to tell. In the case of something based on real life and as personal as Growing up Chino considerations of privacy also come into play."
"Tonight I'm going to share with you some private stories about Ryan. Stories that I hope will allow you to know him better and to understand why he had such a profound effect on all of those of us at Harbor who took the opportunity and made the effort to become his friend."
"I was still in my pajamas, eating breakfast, when Chino walked into my life twenty-three years ago.…"