Chapter Four

"I called the synagogue and arranged the funeral yesterday," said the Nana. She was sitting at the table across from Seth and Summer, who were holding each other's hand, Seth seeking comfort and Summer hoping to provide the needed sympathy. She squeezed his hand even tighter at the sound of the word "funeral." She knew how tough it was for him to say goodbye to his father. For years, Seth's only friend had been Sandy and Kirstin. Then, within the span of a year, he met Ryan, Anna became his dance partner, and Summer became his lover (after much competition with Anna over the love of her life).

"So, it's in three days?"

"Well, if you count today, then yes," said the Nana. "I need to take you shopping for a tux. When should we go? Tomorrow?"

"That'll be fine. Let me tell Ryan later…um, I think that I'm going to leave in about a week. What is mom going to do? Is she going back with you? Staying here? Does she need to come with me?" Seth stroked his thumb along the edge of Summer's hand soothingly. She smiled encouragingly up at him.

"Well, I think it would be best if she stayed here. She needs to get used to life without him. I know that it is going to be hard, but I believe that--"

That was when Kirstin stumbled into the kitchen. She was drunk. "What are you talking about?" she said, her words slurred.

"Nothing, Kirstin," said the Nana, getting to her feet and taking Kirstin's hand. She wrapped an arm around Kirstin's back and led her over to the kitchen. "C'mon, Kirstin. Let's get you something to eat. I know that you must be starving. You haven't eaten in days."

Kirstin struggled to free herself from the Nana's grip. "What were you talking about? Tell me," she demanded. "I want to know."

"We were talking about the funeral arrangements. We're having it at the Newport Synagogue on Friday morning." The Nana tried to shove Kirstin towards the food but she planted her feet firmly in the floor, her heels digging in deeper as the Nana tried to push her harder.

"I told you already," cried Kirstin. "I don't want to have a Jewish funeral for Sandy! He stated clearly in his will that he wanted his funeral to be at the Glass Cathedral. Sophie, you need to change it! It doesn't need to be a the synagogue!"

"Listen to me," said Sophie in a firm voice. "We are having it at a synagogue and there is no arguing about it. Sandy will have a traditional Jewish funeral and that's final! Now come to the table and have a bite to eat."

"The ham sandwiches are good, Mrs. Cohen," said Summer in a hushed voice, hoping to lift the mood.

"I don't need any help choosing food," snapped Kirstin, "because I will eat nothing! Not as long as Sandy eats nothing!"

"Mom, please," said Seth, getting to his feet. "Don't do this."

"Do what, Seth? Grieve? I think I have every right to be angry at God!" That was when she broke down into tears. "He took away my husband. The only man I will ever love!"

Seth wrapped his arms around his mom but she shoved him away. "Mom," he tried to say, but she darted off down the hall towards her bedroom. Seth knew that she was slowly falling into darkness. The drinking was continued when the death of Sandy occurred. Kirstin often turned to liquor in her times of sorrow.

Seth walked down the hall and leaned against the wall in the shadows, crying softly. Why was this happening to him? It seemed that his life was falling apart. That was when he felt someone touching his hand. He looked up and saw Summer standing there before him. "Hey," she said softly.

Seth said nothing in reply. That was when Summer raised her hand and gently cupped his chin. Standing on her tip-toes, she softly kissed his lips. Seth stood there, letting Summer kiss him, even though he was married. Then he wrapped his arms around Summer and pulled her towards him. He kissed her harder, then broke away. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he said: "We can't do this Summer."

"What?" said Summer. "Seth, I'm sorry about all of those years ago. I still love you Seth."

"And I love you, Summer, but that's the thing," said Seth. "I can't love you."

"Why can't you love me?" asked Summer. She was on the verge of tears. Seth was just staring down at his feet, silent. "Answer me, Seth! Damn it, answer me!"

"I'm married," said Seth. "Summer, I have been married for about two years."

Charleston, South Carolina

Earlier that Day

"He's in love with a movie star?" sobbed Arianna. "How can this be? I thought that he loved me?" She began to climb the large winding staircase. She leaned hard on the banister, sobbing, her fingernails clinging to the wood. That was when, reaching the top of the stairs, she saw the small table with a picture frame resting on it. She gasped, seeing what it was. A photo of their wedding day. So long ago, it seemed, yet only two years in the past. In anger and rage, she grabbed the framed and ran towards the banister, screaming and throwing it off the side of the railing. "Damn you, Seth Cohen!" she screamed. "Damn you!" But that was when she tripped on the staircase, one of her high heels breaking. A freak accident, something that happens often but causes little damage. Arianna fell down the stairs, rolling, screaming. "Help me!" she cried as her head hit the side of the railing. She came to a rest at the bottom of the staircase. She lay there for a few moments, weak, then slowly picked herself up, crying. Seth was destroying her ever so slowly. She knew that she couldn't take it, couldn't take being with him. She was in love with Seth Cohen, but he wasn't in love with her.

Later that Day

The Doctor's Appointment

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," said Dr. Red, walking into the room with a few large black sheets of thick paper in his hands. He told her that he thought she should sit down.

"What is it, Doctor?"

"It appears," said Dr. Red, "that…there have been complications…I'm sorry, Mrs. Cohen."

"What?"

"Your baby is dead," said Dr. Red solemnly. "I am so sorry."

"No," said Arianna, tears streaming down her cheeks. "How can this be?"

"Have you had any accidents lately? Falls? Bumped hard into anything?" Dr. Red held a chart in his right hand, the papers in the left. He sat the papers on the table and began to write something on the clipboard.

That was when Arianna remembered her fall.

Her anger at Seth. Seth had caused this. Seth was the reason her baby was dead.

Arianna began to cry.

Newport, California

The Next Day

The phone rang, and, after Ryan answered it, he found that it was for Seth. "Seth," he called, "the phone is for you."

Seth hurried down the hall and took the receiver in his hand. Seth heard crying on the other end. "Arianna?" he said. "Is that you? What's wrong? What's happened?"

"The baby's dead," said Arianna.

"What?" gasped Seth.

"I had a miscarriage, Seth. The baby died. The doctor said I must have…I fell, Seth…and the baby died." She was sobbing uncontrollably now.

"I'll come home," said Seth. "I'll come now. Just let me buy a plane ticket and I'll be there by tonight--"

"No," said Arianna.

"What?" said Seth.

"Seth," said his wife. "I think this is a sign. Something is trying to tell us that we don't belong together, Seth. I have been thinking about this for a while, and my suspicions have been confirmed."

"What?" Seth was flabbergasted. He didn't know what to say to this.

"Seth, I want to get a divorce," said Arianna bluntly.

"No," said Seth. "You're just upset. We need to talk about this. You need to think about what you're saying."

"I have," said Arianna. "I know what I am doing. I want to get a divorce, Seth. I think we got married too early. We were only twenty years old, Seth. We weren't ready. We aren't ready. Seth, I need to go back to college, get a degree. You have always wanted to start the comic book empire back up. You've always dreamed about that. You can't do that with a baby and a wife."

"Yes, I can," said Seth on the verge of tears.

"No," said Arianna. "You can't. I'm sorry, Seth, but I think that it is for the best for both of us. I love you, Seth. And maybe in the future we will be perfect for each other. But not now. I've already gone to a lawyer, and he will be sending you the divorcement papers today. I am sorry to do this to you in your time of sorrow, but I don't know what else to do. I can't go on like this. Bye, Seth."

Seth heard the dial tone and didn't know what to do. It was all too sudden. Had Arianna just divorced him? Had they just broken up? Was his little boy or girl dead? Seth fell into a nearby chair and began to cry. "What have I done? What have I done, God, to deserve all of this?"

Charleston, South Carolina

Arianna fell into the bed sobbing. She was upset to let Seth go, but she knew that she had to. She couldn't love a man who was in love with another woman. Especially a woman like Summer Roberts.

Newport, California

Seth walked out to the pool area, wiping a few tears from his cheeks. "Who was that?" asked Ryan, laying in the pool on one of the chair-floats. He had on a pair of sunglasses and was sipping a glass of lemonade out of his straw.

"That was Arianna," he said. "She wants to break up with me." He turned and saw Summer standing in the doorway. He watched as she burst into tears and ran off down the hall. "Oh no…Summer, wait!" He ran after her, following her to the front door of the house where she desperately tried to open the door. She managed to pull it open and run outside towards her car. Seth hurried after her and managed to grab Summer's arm and pull her towards him. "What's the matter, Summer?"

"I caused you to break up with her," cried Summer. "I'm the cause of your…divorce…"

"No," said Seth. "You aren't, I promise. Arianna and I have been having problems for a long time, long before you and I met up and…before this happened." Seth grabbed her around the waist and lifted her upwards, pressing his lips against hers. They kissed deeply, for a few seconds. Then Summer pushed away.

"We can't do this."

"Yes," said Seth. "We can."

"It's too fast," said Summer, wiping a few tears away from her cheek.

"Then we'll take it slow."

Chicago, Illinois

The red headed girl sat on her bed playing the oboe. That was when her mother, who looked very much like her, came into the room. She had a sad look on her face. She told the girl, who was around the age of twenty-two or so, that one of her friends in Newport had called and told her that Sandy Cohen was dead.

"Do you think that I should go?" asked Lindsay.

"I think you should," said her mother. "He was your sister's husband. If not out of knowing him, then out of respect for the rest of your friends."

"Okay," said Lindsay. "I'll pack my bags."