Chapter 2 – Boiling Point
"Ryan, you have to at least give this holiday thing a try."
"I told you to drop it Seth. You're like a broken record already." Ryan walked faster causing Seth to step up the pace to keep up with him. It had been twenty minutes of relentless holiday chatter from him. Ryan had heard enough.
"Things are what you make them out to be Ryan and Christmas will be a disaster if that's what you…"
"Would you shut up already!" Ryan screamed. Whirling around, he threw all of his weight forward and shoved Seth with all his might sending him sprawling onto his back on the tiled floor. "It might be that black and white for you, but it's not for me. Every day I tried to make the best of what I had, turn it around into something better and let me tell you, there wasn't much to work with. So don't give me this 'look at the bright side' shit!"
Coming out of his office, "What's going on in here?" Sandy asked, noticing his son flat on his back and Ryan's face contorted in anger.
"Nothing," Ryan snapped.
"I asked a question, I expect an answer." Sandy moved to stand between the two boys and still neither was talking.
"It was just…a scuffle," Ryan finally admitted.
"A scuffle? Then why does Seth look like he's in pain?"
"Dad, it's my fault. I was talking to him about Christmas and…I might have, gone a little too far."
"Regardless of what happened or what was said, you guys are like brothers and brothers don't lay their hands on each other…not in this house. Is that clear? Seth? Ryan?"
"Ryan…Dude, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept up the way I did."
"Ryan, is there anything you want to say to Seth?"
With anger still prevalent on his face, "Yeah sure, I'm telling you for the last time to leave it alone. Maybe this time you'll listen to me." Turning on his heel, he left the living room.
In the pool house he grabbed his jacket and put it on while walking across the yard on his way to the driveway. Just as he rounded the front of the house, he ran into Kristen, who'd just come home.
"Hey Ryan." Her greeting was returned with an ominous look as Ryan mounted his bike. "Where are you going?" she asked as he pedaled away in a hurry.
"Out!"
"Out where?"
"Just out!" His voice trailed off as he coasted toward the end of the driveway without looking back.
Not exactly the best thing to come home to after a long day. She found Sandy in his office as his desk, rubbing his forehead.
With a calm voice, "I'm not sure if you knew this or not, but, I think Ryan just took off."
Looking up at his wife, "I'm not surprised. The boys had a fight."
"They did? About what?'
Shrugging, "Apparently Seth was trying to get Ryan to see the light when it comes to Christmas and Ryan had had enough. He shoved Seth, knocked him flat on his back."
"Oh boy. That's not good."
"No it's not. I wonder where he went."
"Well, based on what we've learned from the past I'd say he's either in Long Beach looking for a party, or at the pier. Considering he was on his bike, I'm gonna guess he went to the pier to cool off."
"Honey, you're a genius."
Ryan had been standing at the railing next to the water long enough for his eyes to dry out from the wind. Straightening up, he turned his back to the wind and reached into his jacket's inner pocket, retrieving his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Tapping the pack a few times he raised it to his mouth to extract a smoke. Cupping his hands over it, he fought against the wind to light it.
Sandy watched from a distance as Ryan took a seat on a bench facing the shops. He watched Ryan checking his pack, probably taking inventory of his remaining cigarettes. Once they were hidden back in his jacket, he hunched forward, clearly chilled by the wind. Sucking on the cigarette, there seemed to be a constant cloud of smoke coming from his head. When he finally slowed down and took the stub out of his mouth, he cupped it in his hands again, protecting it from the wind, studying it as a distraction.
Walking up to Ryan, Sandy took a seat next to him without saying a word. Ryan's eyes searched sideways and immediately recognized the person next to him.
"What do you want?" Ryan asked candidly.
"Nothing."
Growing irritated, "Then why are you here?"
"No reason."
"I know you have a point to being here, just spill it already."
"Oh, so you find it frustrating too when you know damn well something's going on, but the person you need the answers from isn't talking."
Ryan narrowed his eyes at Sandy. Sandy was good at this 'turning the tables' crap. Damn him and his lawyer background.
"I'm sorry okay? Seth is a good kid. He didn't deserve that. I know he meant well, he just doesn't understand."
"That's a nice apology, too bad you're telling it to the wrong Cohen."
Dropping his head down, "I'll tell him when I get home. I just needed to cool off first. He really pissed me off."
"Tell me something, Ryan. Anything. Anything at all that might help me understand all of this."
"Nothing I say could ever help anyone understand any of this. If you haven't lived through it, it's almost impossible to believe."
"So let me get this straight, whatever it was, it was so bad that's it's ruined the holidays for you for the rest of your life?"
"Pretty much," Ryan grumbled.
"I see, but you're in a position now to change some of that. You have some control this time around. Why not try something different and see what happens?"
"Now you sound like Seth," he griped, frustration building all over again. "I have a question for you guys…why can't anyone just leave me the fuck alone? Why do I have to be the one to change?"
"Because you're the only one that's miserable."
That comment hit a mark. Sandy noticed Ryan didn't have a comeback for that one.
"Ryan, you can't tell me you like living like this, frustrated and angry every day. I'm not asking you to dress up like Santa and sing Holly Jolly Christmas, but from where I stand, you're putting an awful lot of energy into making sure it's a bad experience. This year…this year could really be something if you gave it even half a chance. This isn't Chino and your problems and the people causing them are not here. This year could be the year you turn it all around but that's up to you kid. You've got to want it for yourself."
Standing up, Sandy didn't give Ryan a chance to respond. "You think on that for a while. In the meantime, you'll apologize to Seth and you'll take over his chores for the next week for getting physical with him. I wouldn't allow him to hit you…we're going to ignore the fact that he'd probably never raise a hand to you in the first place. But, you're not allowed to hit him either."
Sandy watched as Ryan sat still, chewing on his words.
"And one more thing, give me the cigarettes." Sandy could swear he saw fire in Ryan's eyes.
"Kirsten lets me have one if I ask her for it, especially if she knows I'm stressed out."
"Fair enough. I'll just call her and confirm she gave that to you and we're good to go." Pulling out his cell phone, Ryan stopped him in mid dial.
"She doesn't know about these," Ryan raged back. "I got these myself."
"Are they stolen?"
Ryan shook his head and purposely took a long drag off of the stick in his hand before flicking it across the sidewalk to dispose of it. "I bought these."
"You're underage, how did you buy them?"
"With my allowance. Not everybody follows the rules Sandy. You can always find someone willing to cross that line."
"Give me the pack," Sandy requested again, his hand held out in front of Ryan. "The rules are the same as the day you came home with me Ryan, no smoking in this house."
"I'm not in the house," Ryan sassed back.
"Now, Ryan," Sandy demanded, his heart racing knowing this confrontation would probably get worse before it got better.
Standing up, Ryan glared at Sandy and reached into his jacket for the pack. Once again he tapped the pack and slowly raised it toward his face.
"Don't you dare," Sandy warned, causing Ryan to pause briefly.
Locking his eyes with Sandy, Ryan continued to raise the pack to his mouth. Wrapping his lips around another cigarette, he teasingly pulled it from the pack.
When he dropped his arm back down, along with his guard, Sandy sprung to life and snatched the cigarette out of his mouth with a single swat and grab motion.
"I told you no," Sandy repeated. "Give them to me. Now."
If Sandy thought there was fire in Ryan's eyes before, there was now a full-blown firestorm erupting.
Slapping Sandy in the chest with his right hand, Ryan pressed the nearly empty pack of cigarettes against his coat. Ryan looked like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. His chest heaved up and down with each forced breath and he was audibly breathing hard. His unforgiving eyes were staring a hole through Sandy.
"Thank you," Sandy answered calmly, taking custody of the pack. "Lighter too Ryan."
Reaching into his coat again, Ryan held out the lighter for Sandy.
"I know you're struggling right now kid, but that doesn't give you a free pass to break the rules."
"I'm just getting started," Ryan threatened, glaring at Sandy again.
"That's okay, I'm expecting it."
Not at all what Ryan wanted to hear. On the brink of hysterical blindness from anger, he walked away from Sandy, picked up a landscaping rock and hurled it into the ocean with a primal growl. If this was Ryan's version of just getting started, Sandy worried what might follow.
"You look like someone put you through the wringer," Kirsten stated at the sight of her husband walking through the door. "I take it you found Ryan."
Flopping down on the couch, Sandy pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes and shook his head. "He's fighting this with everything he's got. It's only going to get worse before it gets better."
"Did he say anything? Anything at all?"
Dropping his arm down, defeated, "I found him at the pier, he was smoking." Sandy watched his wife's eyebrows arch. Clearly she was under the impression they were past the whole cigarette thing, minus, of course, the occasional bribe. "He claims he bought them, said he found someone that's willing to sell to underage kids."
"How many did he have?"
Reaching into his pocket, Sandy removed the half crumpled pack and looked inside. "There's only three left in here. He's gone through almost a whole pack and I'm guessing he's got more than this. You know he went as far as to try to light up in front of me? Granted, there are worse things in life, but right now he's all about being defiant."
Silence engulfed the living room as they both tried to concoct a plan to control Ryan, or at least contain him. If they weren't careful, this was something that could get really ugly, really fast. Unfortunately, neither of them had any solutions.
Finally, "I guess, I guess we're just going to have to be tough on him for a while. I'm not even talking about the whole Christmas thing. I'm talking about curbing this bad behavior of his. He knows the rules."
Throwing her head back against the couch, "It really is going to get worse first, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid so. We've known him long enough to know he isn't going to take this lying down."
It was around eleven in the morning the next day when Kirsten realized she hadn't seen Ryan yet. Assuming he probably snuck out to the pier, or was just avoiding everyone, she went to the pool house to snoop around. Placing her hand on the doorknob, she could hear something inside. It took a moment for her brain to register what she was hearing, but once it did she flew into a rage.
Yanking the door open, she rushed across the threshold and prepared to hand it to Ryan with both barrels cocked, no pun intended. Sure enough, he was doing just what it sounded like he was doing. This time she'd caught him red-handed in the middle of the act still bucking against the unknown girl beneath him.
"RYAN! Get out of that bed! GET UP!"
Having no idea that Kirsten had even entered the room, Ryan about jumped out of his skin and actually flashed her a look of horror.
"I said get up! NOW!" Kirsten continued to rage as both teenagers scrambled across the bed in opposite directions.
The girl ran past Kirsten and quickly covered herself with a beach towel while collecting her items where they laid scattered across the floor. Ryan in the meantime, bare-chested and jeans pushed down past his buttocks, did a quick back crawl to the opposite side of the bed where he fell off with a thud and cracked his head against his night table, causing the lamp to teeter precariously before regaining it's balance.
Ryan swallowed hard and doubled over in an attempt to cover himself up as Kirsten stalked to his side of the bed. They were both ignoring the random girl that was running out the door across the room.
At least Ryan had the courtesy to look somewhat concerned, scared was a stretch, but by his facial expression, he knew he'd screwed up this time.
"You scared the shit out of me," he admitted quietly.
"Sorry to have messed up your plans," Kirsten spat scornfully. "Who is that girl?"
"Paige."
"Paige who?"
There was silence. Kirsten's pot of boiling water finally ran over.
"You don't even know her last name and you brought her home and into your bed? And while we're on the subject where is your protection?"
"I've got…"
"Wherever you've got it, it's not on you," she pressured.
"You looked at me that closely?"
"Didn't exactly leave much to the imagination Ryan." Huffing her disgust with the entire situation, "Stand up and get dressed."
"Can you…maybe…"
"Turn around? No. This doesn't bother me and apparently you don't care either or you wouldn't do things that give me a front row seat to viewing your crotch. Get over it and stand up."
Squirming on the floor, Ryan mentally wrestled with what was worse, showing his front or turning his back to Kirsten during this fit of hers. Giving in he rolled onto his knees and stood up with his back to Kirsten, quickly pulling up his jeans in the process.
"Go sit in the kitchen, I'll be right there."
"Can I get a shirt?"
"No."
Holding her ground Kirsten forced Ryan to walk right past her. He kept his head down and edged past her silently, his bare feet carrying him from the pool house.
In the kitchen he pulled out one of the barstools and sat down. He'd done it this time. Between Sandy catching him smoking and Kirsten catching him screwing some random girl, of the two, he'd take Sandy's scenario over again in a heartbeat.
"Hey, I haven't seen you all day, where you been?" Seth's voice penetrated the quiet kitchen and Ryan shut his eyes, showing he was not in the mood to talk.
"What's with you dude? You're quiet, you're shirtless…" Seth's mouth gaped widely as Ryan's eyes flipped open and narrowed at him.
"Ryan…were you mattress dancing?"
Rolling his head away from Seth, Ryan chewed the inside of his cheek and stared at the refrigerator.
"Oh my God you were!" Seth blurted desperately. "Dude, tell me everything! Was it hot? Was she pretty? Did she know any really good bedroom tricks?"
Curling his lips in a snarl at Seth, Ryan opened his mouth to bite his head off, but thought otherwise when he heard Kirsten open the patio door.
Seth did his best to silently signal that they'd talk later.
"Oh Rosa, I'm glad you're still here," Kirsten said. "Before you go, I need the guest room prepared, new sheets, some towels."
"Yes Mrs. Cohen."
"Why do we need the guest room prepared?" Ryan asked dryly, on the verge of a confrontation.
With one hand on her hip and the other on the counter, "Because that's where you'll be staying until Christmas is over. Your privacy privileges have been revoked until that time."
"What!" Ryan fumed.
"She caught you mattress dancing, didn't she?" Seth interrupted candidly.
"Seth! Out! Now!" Kirsten dictated angrily, chasing Seth out of the kitchen.
Ryan was so pissed off, he laughed. "I'm not sleeping in the guest room. I'm sleeping in my own bed."
"No. You're not."
"Watch me."
Kirsten didn't say a word as Ryan tugged the door open and ran up the patio steps two at a time. Instead, she sat down on one of the barstool and messed with a hangnail on one of her fingers. Ignoring the thrashing outside, she waited patiently for Ryan to return. And did he ever.
"Why the fuck is my door locked?" he raged, fury consuming him.
"I told you Ryan, it's off limits until after Christmas."
Ryan felt as if he was struck dumb. The words were going in but they just weren't registering. "You can't do that!" he fumed.
"Watch me." Giving Ryan a taste of his own medicine, Kirsten glared at him, not giving an inch. She was proud of herself for stumping him. She'd rendered him absolutely speechless. Without any further comments, she stood up and walked toward the living room.
"I'm not sleeping in the guest room!" Ryan yelled. When Kirsten didn't reply, he turned to the counter and placed both palms out flat on the counter, stretched back and concentrated on his bare feet on the tile floor. He'd show her.
Late that evening Sandy wandered into his bedroom where Kirsten was snuggled against a pile of pillows on the bed, reading a book.
"Are you aware of the fact that Ryan is missing?" Sandy said rather matter-of-factly. They'd gotten used to Ryan's little quirks and there wasn't much that surprised them anymore. Given the day he had, the fact that he was missing was not earth shattering.
"He'll turn up eventually," Kirsten mumbled, still engrossed in her book.
Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Sandy sighed, causing Kirsten to take a break.
"What is it?"
Shaking his head, "It's just that…lately it feels like we're right back where we started. The cigarettes, the sex, the cocky attitude and the mouth to go with it, this is the kid I brought home from Juvie. I guess I thought he'd learned more by now," Sandy explained over his shoulder.
"You're not giving him any credit Sandy. He's come a long way since he's been here and, until Christmas rolled around, he was doing really well. Whatever is in his past that concerns this time of year, it's obviously very upsetting to him. That's why he's acting out. He keeps saying to wake him up when it's over. He just wants to get past this…badly. He'll cool down again."
"You're probably right. I just wish I could do more."
"We're doing plenty Sandy. He's got to meet us halfway. He's not trying, not these days anyway."
The next morning Kirsten was up early, before anyone else. Checking the guest room confirmed her suspicions. The bed was tidy and still turned down from the night before, just as Rosa had left it. Ryan had kept his word. He didn't sleep there. She wandered the house checking the couches for him, nothing. When she walked over to the patio door, her heart raced for a moment when it dawned on her that Ryan could break into damn near anything and she found herself getting irritated by the idea that he may very well have let himself back into the pool house for the night.
Marching over there with purpose, she pulled on the pool house door. Locked. Pressing her hands up against the window she peered inside. Everything was exactly the way she left it, Ryan was nowhere in sight.
Trying to remind herself not to jump the gun, he'd turn up eventually, she went back through the house and opened the front door to grab the morning paper. To her shock, instead of finding the paper, she discovered Ryan sprawled out on the front steps and out cold. Bending down next to him she discovered he wasn't only being stubborn, he was drunk, or had been drunk. He reeked of alcohol.
"Ryan? Ryan, wake up!" she ordered, shaking him vigorously. She watched his face twist in anger and his arm swatted at the air in an attempt to push her away. "Let's go Ryan, it's morning. Get it together! It's time to get up!" Banking on the fact that he'd be hung over, she continued shaking him and talking loudly.
"Let go!" he eventually hollered. "Stop fucking yelling at me!" he begged, rubbing his head.
When he got around to opening his eyes, Kirsten could see his lids were only at half-mast. Dealing with a drunk or hung over Ryan, difficult as it was, was one of the best ways to get the truth out of him. "When did you get home?"
"I don't know?" he garbled incoherently.
"Where did you go?"
"I don't remember."
"Hmm. Meet any girls?"
No answer.
"Ryan?"
"Yeah there were girls!" he answered in a tone that screamed 'duh!'
"Did you…hook up with anyone?"
"Of course. But you'll be happy to know I used a condom."
"Well good, at least we're getting somewhere," Kirsten mocked.
Surprised, Ryan opened his eyes, "You're lying." He studied Kirsten for her reaction.
"Lying? About what?"
"Not caring," he replied, closing his eyes again. "I know you don't want me sleeping around."
"True, but I can't stop you Ryan. I can only hope that you don't get sick as a result or end up a Father. Obviously you're the one that doesn't care about yourself, or about what I've told you because you aren't slowing down like you said you would."
Ryan's eyes fluttered open and he pressed his eyebrows down. Oh yeah. That day in the Nursery at the hospital. He promised her he'd slow down. Figures she'd remember that.
"Let's go Ryan. I'm sure you're awful comfortable laying there on the concrete, but it's time to make breakfast."
Casting an evil look her way, Ryan pulled himself over onto all fours and, with much effort, to an upright position. His body was stiff as a board from sleeping on the cold pavement.
"I'd like for you to make some scrambled eggs. Everyone loves those."
Feeling green, Ryan's throat tightened and he lurched with the beginning stages of a gag. By some miracle he managed to control it and refrained from vomiting on the front porch. Damning himself for knowing how to cook a few things, he knew this was punishment for going out drinking. Avoiding eye contact with Kirsten, he walked through the door. Somehow, someway, he had to keep it together long enough to cook breakfast. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of puking. He'd show her what he was made of.
For the second night in a row, Ryan had managed to disappear undetected.
"I'm telling you, we're going to have to install a low-jack on that kid," Sandy joked. "But you were right. He did come back."
"He's trying to punish us but I think it's taking more of a toll on him instead."
"I can't believe he slept on the front porch," Sandy laughed.
"Hey, you're the one that said it would get worse before it gets better."
"I wish I was wrong about that."
"Doesn't look like it."
"Wonder where we'll find him tomorrow…"
Seth was startled when his cell phone went into its song-and-dance at nearly three in the morning. With his eyes still shut, he snatched it off his night table and answered it. No one he knew would call him at three in the morning. Honestly, no one called him at all. It had to be a wrong number.
Hoarse from sleeping, "Dude, it's the wrong number. Trying dialing again."
"Seth?" The voice on the line was equally as hoarse, leading Seth to bolt upright in his bed.
"Ryan? Is that you?" It sounded like Ryan but the voice was so slurred, Seth wasn't sure.
"Don't hang up. It's me."
"No. No, of course not. Dude where are you? What's with all the cars?"
"Um…I'm outside. I…I need a ride. Come get me."
Sneaking out of the house at three a.m., borrowing the car without asking and then sneaking a drunk Ryan back in sounded like a great adventure to Seth, who was all too happy that Ryan turned to him for help in the first place.
"You got it buddy, just tell me where you are."
"Where I am?" In his current condition, it hadn't occurred to Ryan that Seth had no idea where he was. "I went to the party."
"Okay, you went to a party and where was it?"
"Um…can't remember."
"Ryan, do you know where you are right now?"
There was a pause. "No. I don't know. I can't…"
"It's okay Ryan. Just tell me what you see. Okay? Can you do that?"
"See? Um…" Ryan's voice faded away as he searched his surroundings. "Big chicken."
Chuckling on his end of the line, "A big chicken? You see a big chicken?"
"Yeah. Big chicken."
"Okay, so, like, Kentucky Fried Chicken?"
"No man. That's…that's that old man. This is the big chicken."
Sitting in the dark on his bed, Seth shrugged to himself. He was at a loss for the big chicken. "Okay buddy, what else do you see? Tell me some more stuff."
"Um…gas station."
"Okay that's good. What kind of gas station Ry? Does it have a picture on it?"
"Um…there's…a sun…green sun."
"BP? Is it a BP gas station?"
"Green sun," Ryan repeated.
"Okay so, on one corner is the green sun and on the other is the big chicken?"
"Yeah. Can you come get me?
"Ryan buddy, I have no idea where you are."
"Come on man, I told you two things, just come get me."
"I want to man, I really do, and I will, but I can't exactly program the GPS with 'green sun' and 'big chicken'. Just a little more Ryan, is there anything else?"
Sighing disgustedly, "I guess…big 'M'."
Rolling his eyes at Ryan's descriptions, "Big 'M'? Dude, how can I…wait, is it a yellow 'M'? Look again."
"'M'…yellow 'M'…yeah. Yellow."
"You mean like McDonald's Ryan? Like a McDonald's 'M'?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, okay that's good buddy. Let me think a minute." Seth repeated Ryan's ambiguous clues over and over. "Green sun, big chicken and a yellow 'M'…McDonald's, a BP and some chicken thing…what the hell? Where is there a McDonald's and a BP?" Thinking on it for a minute, "Dude! I think I know where you are! The big chicken, is he wearing a sombrero?"
"Big chicken…has…hat on. Has a hat on."
"Eureka! Damn I'm good!"
Seth could hear Ryan swallowing something, "Dude are you still drinking?"
"Yeah."
"Ryan, stop okay. That's enough."
There was silence before Ryan grunted, followed by more silence and then shattering glass.
"Ryan?"
"Bottle's gone."
"Okay buddy, that's good. Now listen to me Ryan, go sit down somewhere near the big chicken okay? I'm on my way to get you. If you walk away from the big chicken, I won't know where you are so you have to stay there, okay?"
"Okay," Ryan answered. Hanging up, he staggered out of the phone booth, took a few steps across the pavement and decided walking was too much work. Taking a seat on one of the parking blocks, he rung his hands and waited for Seth to arrive.
The ride home was virtually incident free. Seth took his cue from his Mom when it came to bringing a soused Ryan home in the car and he put the mop bucket on the floor in the front seat, but Ryan never used it. By the time Seth had found Ryan he was like a chatty Cathy doll and his mouth kept jabbering all the way home. Nothing he said had a point, but it was the most Seth had ever heard him talk.
Once they were in the driveway, Ryan leaned over and honked the Rover's horn in singsong fashion.
"Ry…Ryan, don't do that buddy. You're gonna wake up my parents and that's not a good idea."
Ryan sat back in his seat like a child who was just told not to touch something.
"Come on buddy, let's get you to bed so you can sleep this off." Opening his door, Seth held off getting out when Ryan spoke again.
"I don't have a bed."
"What do you mean? Sure you do. You can sleep in the guest room."
"That's not my bed," Ryan explained angrily and pushed his car door open.
Trying to keep up with him, Seth slammed his own door and walked to the front of the car where he ran into his parents standing on the driveway in their robes.
Defeated, Seth admitted the truth. "He's been drinking. He called me to come get him. I went straight there, picked him up and came home."
Validating Seth's information, Ryan stumbled around the front of the car, tripped and hit the pavement with a splat.
"You guys may want to rethink this whole pool house thing," Seth coached softly. "I think that's what all of this is about."
In the mean time, Ryan had made his way onto all fours and was puking between his hands on the driveway.
"Seth, go get him a towel for his hands," Sandy instructed. Nodding, Seth did as he was told.
When Ryan stopped heaving, Sandy walked over and rolled him over to sit on his butt. Disorientated, Ryan held his hands out as if there was something toxic on them.
"It's okay kid. Just relax."
Returning, Seth handed his Father the towel and Sandy used it to wipe off Ryan's trembling hands.
"Let's get him inside so he can sleep some of this off," Kirsten relayed, reaching down to help pick Ryan up, but he pulled away before she could get a hold of his arm.
"Sleep in the pool house…my room…my bed," he demanded with labored breathing.
"Ryan…"
"My room in Chino didn't even have a blanket, had to sleep in my jacket. Sleep me in the pool house…I'll stop…this. Sleep in my room…please. I'll stop."
Sandy and Kirsten looked at each other and then at Seth, who nodded and shrugged back at them. Maybe he was right.
"So you'll stop drinking if we let you sleep in the pool house?" Sandy asked, trying to keep his questions simple. Ryan wasn't entirely coherent.
Ryan looked up at Sandy and nodded. "My bed."
"And the girls, Ryan?" Kirsten pressed, drawing a look from Sandy.
"Slow down the girls. Keep my promise this time."
"Okay kid, let's get you to bed." Standing up, Sandy reached down and pulled Ryan up. Seth came around and put Ryan's other arm over his shoulder. Between the two of them, they lugged Ryan into the pool house after Kirsten unlocked the door, and laid him down on his bed.
Kirsten unlaced his boots and pulled his blanket over him once he coiled his feet up onto the bed.
Clenching the blanket near his face in his fists, Ryan turned his eyes to Kirsten. "Thanks. I'll stop. I'm sorry," he whispered.
Brushing his bangs out of his eyes, Kirsten kissed his forehead. "Tomorrow is a new day honey. We'll try again, okay?"
His mouth formed the word 'okay', but nothing audible came out as his eyes closed and he drifted into unconsciousness.
(TBC)…
A/N – to answer a few things…I don't have any intentions of adding Marissa or Summer to this one. I'm still sticking with my Cohens plus one structure. I can say that certain characters will be back by popular demand…such as Dawn, Trey, Tommy the police officer from Chino and Caleb. Also, I made a mistake in the last chapter saying Ryan was adopted…he wasn't. The Cohen's are simply legal guardians. Not the same thing. These are the sort of mistakes that come from writing at two in the morning! My bad…
(Passes aspirin to Beachtree)…hope you came out of this chapter in one piece! LOL! Things are going to take a left turn soon…doesn't mean he won't get into mischief though! (Wink, wink)! ; ) Hang in there!
I know everyone has been real anxious for this sequel to get rolling. I promise to update as quickly as I can. I have a 6 year old…and a swimming pool! My days are not my own: D