Okay, so I didn't get to the therapy. I tried. It just didn't happen. Don't shoot me! Not much humor in this chapter...
I promise I loved Junebug. You'll see.
I don't own it.
Ryan was glad he hadn't taken any bets on how long Seth would stop speaking with him, because a day and a half had passed and Seth hadn't uttered one word in his direction. He was starting to feel lonely. If it weren't for Luke, Captain Oats probably would have been returned to his rightful owner.
He had stopped the notes though. He didn't have the heart to torment Seth anymore; he just didn't know how to give back the horse. Every time he tried to go up to Seth's room to just leave Captain Oats on his bed either Sandy or Seth had been around. He had just wanted to do it privately, unobtrusively. He didn't want to just hand it over and admit defeat.
Ryan pulled up the shades when he finished getting dressed and noticed Seth in the kitchen sipping his coffee and picking at a bagel. Not in the mood to be ignored he stayed away as long as he could, but Seth wasn't getting up from the counter and his stomach was growling. Ryan glanced at his watch. He didn't have much choice. He'd have to face Seth or miss eating breakfast. Sandy had mentioned he wanted an early start to Suriak, the treatment center where Kirsten was staying.
Giving in to hunger Ryan opened the pool house door and headed across the patio to the kitchen. Sandy was sitting next to Seth at the counter by the time he arrived.
"G'Morning," he mumbled.
"Good morning," Sandy answered brightly.
Seth said nothing.
Ryan looked at Seth from the corner of his eyes, hoping to see something there, but Seth's head was buried in the newspaper. Sandy seemed to notice the exchange, but said nothing.
"So, Ryan, I was just telling Seth that I was hoping to leave by ten o'clock. Will you be ready?"
"Sure." He poured coffee into his mug. "No problem."
"Great." Sandy patted the counter. "What about you, Seth? Will you be ready?"
"Yeah. Yeah." Seth pushed back the stool and stood up. "Just give me a shout when you're ready."
Sandy's gaze followed Seth out of the kitchen and then he turned to Ryan. "Is everything okay between the two of you?"
Ryan shrugged. He didn't want to lie to Sandy, but didn't want him to worry about anything else. Sandy had enough on his plate just staying abreast on all the household things Kirsten usually took care of, and worrying about Kirsten, and it was pretty obvious that Sandy was lonely and lost without his wife.
Trying to divert the conversation Ryan asked, "Did Seth want to come to the therapy?"
Sandy furrowed his brows. "Why do you ask?"
Ryan shrugged. "He didn't want to come to the intervention. I was curious if you maybe insisted he do family therapy."
"I didn't insist with you. Why would I force Seth?"
Ryan stared into his mug and muttered, "It's not the same."
"It's not? Why not?" Sandy ran a hand through his hair, trying to hide the tired expression on his face. Once again he was feeling out of his depth. "Look, kid. I know Kirsten said some really hurtful things during the intervention. I know that it probably got you questioning your place in the family. But I don't think of you any less a son than Seth."
Ryan refused to meet Sandy's gaze, but he could hear him sighing from across the room.
"Kirsten loves you too. She loves you like a son. She thinks of you as her son. What she said, it was a cornered animal lashing out. It was the booz."
"Whatever." He pushed himself off the counter and started to walk out of the kitchen, even though he hadn't eaten.
"Ryan, please don't walk away." Sandy closed his eyes. "Ryan, please, talk to me. Please," he begged. When Ryan stopped mid-stride, Sandy continued. "This is something you and Kirsten need to work out. That's why I was so anxious for you to come to therapy. It's going to take time, but our family will heal."
Ryan shrugged his shoulders.
"I know you don't like to talk much, but even sitting back today and listening will start the healing process."
Ryan bent his head and studied his boots. He sensed, but didn't see Sandy get up and stand beside him. But he felt Sandy cupping the back of his neck and squeezing him close to his side. Ryan realized that he hadn't flinched from Sandy's touch in a very long time.
"Our family will heal, Ryan," Sandy repeated. "I promise you that. And I promise you that you will always be part of this family."
Ryan turned up his lips in a half smile, just to show Sandy that he heard him. Even if he wasn't sure if he believed him.
"And both you and Seth think I can be easily distracted from my original question, but I still want to know what's going on between the two of you."
Ryan looked up. "We'll work it out."
"I've said it once and I'll say it till I'm blue in the face. You and Seth can come to me for anything. I don't want you to be afraid of what I may think or feel. I'm here for you. You boys are my number one priority."
"Yeah." He looked up meeting Sandy's gaze. "I know. But we're okay. We will be. Really. I promise. And if I can't make it right I'll come for help."
"Okay." Sandy hung onto Ryan's gaze for just a moment longer and then clapped his hands together. "You better eat something before we go. You okay to leave in a half hour?"
"Yeah. And Sandy, thanks."
An hour later they piled into the car. Seth took the front seat next to his dad and Ryan took the back seat. He patted his pocket and felt for Captain Oats. He hoped that he would have a chance to sneak the horse into the front seat for Seth to find before they all went inside. But as soon as Sandy parked the Range Rover, Sandy urged them out of the car, not giving him a chance to hang back.
Ryan shuffled his feet, following Seth and Sandy into the treatment center. It was pretty, he thought, as his stomach roiled. The neatly manicured lawns were lush green. It had the same sort of feel as the country club, though the alcohol probably didn't flow at Suriak like it did there.
"I thought we'd visit with Kirsten before we jumped into therapy. You know, just catch up," Sandy explained.
Seth and Ryan nodded their heads.
"We need to sign in."
They approached a tall wooden desk that sat in middle of the lobby. The wood was polished to a high gloss so that Ryan could see his reflection. The floors gleamed. It was hard to believe this was a rehab lace. Sandy scribbled something in the book, smiling at the receptionist.
"We're here to see Kirsten Cohen. I'm her husband and these are our sons." He put an arm around each of them.
The receptionist returned his grin. "I believe Mrs. Cohen is waiting for you in the garden. When Dr. Altman is ready for your session someone will come to get you."
"Thank you," Sandy replied.
She grinned again. Ryan wondered if her face would freeze that way.
"Enjoy your visit," she instructed.
Seth's sneakers squeaked as they followed Sandy to the garden. Ryan felt the acid churning in the pit of his belly. He wanted to throw up. When he was sick, he knew it would make him feel better. He wasn't so sure it would now. They walked through a long narrow corridor, which was filled with doctors in white coats and what Ryan assumed were patients, dressed casually – Newport style.
Sandy walked through the glass door leading to a patio framed with beds of flowers and green lawns. Ryan noticed Kirsten sitting at a round table with its umbrella open to protect her from the shade. The flaps fluttered in the breeze. From a distance, Ryan studied Kirsten, her hair was pulled back severely and her face looked pale as if she had forgotten to put on makeup.
Spotting her men, Kirsten stood up and walked towards them. Sandy met her with two long strides and enveloped her in his arms. They hugged, lingering in each other's grasp for a few moments, before Kirsten turned and swept Seth in her arms. Seth laid his chin on Kirsten's shoulders, holding her tight, squeezing his eyes shut, but keeping back the tears.
"I miss you," he whispered.
"I miss you too."
They let go and Kirsten looked around, her eyes searching hopefully. They landed on Ryan and a shy tentative smile spread on her face. When Ryan didn't step forward, Kirsten walked towards him; arms outstretched and took him in her arms. His back grew rigid and Ryan refused to allow himself to relax in Kirsten's embrace.
Finally, she let go and stepped back, looking Ryan up and down. "I'm so glad you decided to come. Thank you."
He cast his eyes to the ground.
"I – I know I have a lot to make up for. I –" She took a deep breathe. "I'm just so glad you came."
"Me too," he finally admitted. He turned the right side of his mouth up in a half-smile. "I mean, I'm glad to be here."
Sensing that things were getting too heavy too fast, Sandy came over and put his hand on the small of Kirsten's back. "Why don't we all sit down and catch up."
She nodded. "Do you want some drinks first? They have lemonade in the rec room and some cookies too."
Seth shook his head. Sandy politely refused and Ryan said he wasn't thirsty. They all settled into the cushioned chairs and looked around the table from one to the other wondering who would begin.
"So tell me what you're doing during your vacation," Kirsten took charge. She rested her back against the chair, shutting out where she was and just trying to be the mother she was used to being, taking an interest in her boys' lives.
"Well," Seth started, taking his mother's cue. "I've mostly been hanging out with Summer. I think I've seen every movie that's out in this theater. Even this lame indie film called Junebug that Summer dragged me to."
"Why was it lame?" Her voice was tinged with laughter
"It had all these long silences. Then there was this broody brainless brother. They had this cracked artist who painted lots of —" Seth abruptly stopped aware that he should stop while he was ahead.
Kirsten grinned, thrilled that Seth was relaxing and rambling again. She pursed her lips in amusement well aware that he had been heading into forbidden territory.
"What about you Ryan? Did you and –" She stopped herself, realizing that he and Marissa probably weren't hanging out much since she shot his brother. "Did you tag along?"
Ryan shook his head. "No. I'm just hanging around and reading a lot. Going online."
"Really? No video game marathons? No PS2 Superbowl?" Her eyes darted from Ryan to Seth and Seth to Ryan, realizing for the first time how far apart they were sitting. Their backs were half turned so that they weren't even facing each other. Their usual banter was absent. "Okay." Her voice grew stern. "What's going on with the two of you? Sandy why aren't they talking to each other?"
