Fairytale of New York – A visit to the Bronx Zoo

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How is it? And yes I did rip that bit when Kirsten came back and Sandy trapped her in the doorway and watched while she broke down in the bathroom from Spooks! Hehe, but Adam and Fiona are a cute couple like Sandy and Kirsten so I couldn't resist!

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Sandy shut the bathroom door gently but firmly behind him and stood for a moment leaning against it.

They were going to be okay.

They were going to be okay.

There was no way they could give up now.

He lost himself in his thoughts, gloomy, brooding thoughts. Memories of the summer, recollections of the previous summer and everything that had gone wrong since. It was several minutes before he registered the sound coming from the bathroom; muffled sobs beneath the running water.

She was crying.

There was nothing he wanted more than to go in there and comfort her. Climb in the shower behind her like he'd offered to and hold her. But she wouldn't thank him for it right now. He knew that. She was all talked out, sick of being reassured when she doubted the voice of it and just plain tired.

Trying to pretend his wife wasn't on the other side of the door crying her eyes out, Sandy forced himself into the other room to hunt out the room service menus. When he heard the shower shut off he wandered casually into the bedroom, meeting a damp Kirsten still wrapped in a towel. He watched her search through her suitcase, admiring the curve of her shoulders, the droplets on her neck that he just wanted to kiss off and her slender legs displayed beneath the too-short towel.

'Sandy!' She chastised, without looking up, and he wondered how she knew.

'What honey?'

'You're staring.'

'I can't help it. There is a fluffy white bathrobe in there if you wanted to be modest but you obviously enjoy tormenting me.'

No. No bathrobes.

Kirsten hadn't touched the Hers robe. She couldn't. It was too weird. Before she'd even run into Carter she had avoided it. Tonight she couldn't even look at it. Shit. Now she had a complex about bathrobes.

She forced a smile but didn't look up and Sandy knew she was trying to hide her reddened eyes. He didn't comment, sidling up behind her and kissing the back of her neck. She shivered and tipped her head back on his shoulder. 'Sanford Cohen I know exactly where this is going, except it's not.'

'I was just asking what you wanted for dinner,' he said nonchalantly.

'Well it was a very interesting way of asking.'

'I'm a very interesting man.'

'Stop flattering yourself and let me look at the menus.'

Sandy pouted and handed them over so Kirsten could make her choice. He raised his eyebrows at her selection but didn't argue; she was obviously in a strange mood tonight and he didn't want anymore tears or angry glares. She might look angelic, he ruminated as he simultaneously called for room service and surreptitiously watched his wife get changed, but she could certainly channel the devil if she felt like it.

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'Your mother say anything else?' Kirsten asked after Sandy had ended the call, 'No not-so-subtle jibes about our lifestyle? Did she ask if you had the menorah up?'

'Oh of course. Check and check! She also asked if I was still behaving indecently with you despite having been married almost twenty-one years.'

'And what did you tell her?'

'I said the whole reason I married you was so that we had an excuse to behave indecently.'

'You didn't.'

'I did. Her response being that if we didn't start controlling ourselves we'd find ourselves with a baby on our hands. And talking of our dear children, I think we have to stop making-out while Seth's on the phone to my mother. Seems to me like he's been moaning about us to a sympathetic ear.'

Kirsten laughed, 'He probably put her up to that comment. I should go call the boys now, make sure they didn't just eat cookie dough for dinner.'

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By the time Kirsten had finished giving her sons the third degree…

'Have you been outside today at all? Or have you been glued to the play-station?'

'M-o-m, it's like, sixty degrees out there; it's freezing.'

'I'll take that as a no.'

'As a child of Southern California I cannot be expected to function normally under less than seventy.'

'And this from the boy who has chosen Brown for college. Do you have enough fruit?'

' Um…yeah Kirsten, there's plenty.' Ryan told her, eyeing the giant basket on the kitchen island.

'Has anyone called?'

'Sadly yes, Julie Cooper-Nichol and Taryn what's-her-face, why can we never remember that woman's name?'

'Perhaps because she's had three different husbands since I've been in Newport?' Ryan offered.

Kirsten smothered a laugh, 'Sounds about right, anything important?'

'Please Mom; is anything the Newpsies say important?'

'I guess it can wait till I get back.'

- 'Yeah, that's probably best as I um…didn't write down the messages.'

'Right, thanks Seth. What did you have for dinner?

Pizza, what is this? The Spanish Inquisition?

Something like that. What time did you go to bed last night?'

Probably earlier than you.

'I wouldn't bet on that,' Sandy cut in, having picked up the line in the lounge, 'your mother and I were early birds last night…not that we got much sleep…'

There was a choking sound followed by a clatter at the other end. A moment later Ryan informed them; 'Seth has hung up. He says he did not let you go to New York to then be terrorized by phone.'

Sandy chuckled, 'It's too easy. Anyway, I hope you're alright, behaving yourselves.'

'More than you are.'

'Watch it Ryan. Honey, the food's arrived; let's leave our delightful offspring to themselves shall we?'

'Take care okay?'

'I always do.'

'Shut up Sandy. Love you Ryan, tell Seth so too. Bye.'

…room service had called and it was time to eat. Sandy was relieved to find the order was right; he hadn't exactly been concentrating when he rang. It was a strange meal; things were ok, but not quite. They kept to neutral topics, continuing with the banter that, thank God, still came naturally.

'So-o-o,' Sandy said when they were finished, 'there's an old Steve McQueen movie…'

'No,' his wife moaned, interrupting him, 'come on Sandy. There has got to be something better than that.'

'If by better you mean an incredibly soppy chick-flick, you're probably right; those things are two a dozen. But real cinema, that is hard to find and McQueen is a classic.'

Kirsten pouted but he refused to back down; 'You're gonna fall asleep anyway,' he pointed out.

'I rest my eyes,' she protested indignantly.

'Well how about we watch whatever we finally agree on in bed? That way I don't have to risk life and limb waking you up when you're 'resting your eyes' sat on the sofa.'

'You mean you wouldn't carry me?' she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

He grinned, leaning to kiss her before catching her hand and leading her into other room, 'You know I would, I'm just thinking of my back.'

'There's nothing wrong with your back.'

'Wouldn't count on it after last night…'

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As predicted Kirsten fell asleep within the first twenty minutes of the rom-com she'd kissed and cajoled her husband into submitting to. She knew she was flagging but didn't try to fight it. She was tired after the surprises of that afternoon and the revelations of the evening. Being honest wasn't always easy; it was certainly draining. And Sandy's hand stroking through her hair, his other arm around her, was so comforting. Plus, if she 'rested her eyes' for long enough he'd change channel and get to watch his blessed McQueen movie after all.

Sandy felt Kirsten relax in his arms, her head dropping against his chest and her breathing evening out. He had a sneaking suspicion she only beleaguered him into watching the drivel that was currently playing onscreen to prove to herself that she could win him over. And that she did, over and over again.

He wondered if she'd ever realise that she was always going to win. There was no one quite like her; she had no reason to feel insecure, no reason to need to be in control. But that was just Kirsten.

Sandy fumbled for the remote and flicked onto his preferred choice of viewing, lowering the volume so as not to wake his wife. Brushing a kiss against her temple, he settled her more comfortably against him, his mind never reaching the television; sidetracked by the woman in his arms and a conversation he'd had with his mother earlier that day.

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'And how's Kirsten?' Sophie Cohen asked indifferently, tacking her daughter-in-law onto the end of a long line of questions; her grandsons, ('Still too busy chasing those California girls to visit? Following in their father's foolish footsteps I see. ') Sandy's job, ('I don't think I heard that correctly Sanford. You are now CEO of the Newport Group? This better be some sick joke or so help me God!')their trip, ('It is only a five hour flight Sandy, it's not like it's a long journey, and no doubt you flew First Class.') the weather in California, ('How's the weather in that God-forsaken place you call home? Still revoltingly sunny? Now you can't beat a real cold snap, a little snowfall and there's no place better for it than good old NYC.')

'Kirsten's…Kirsten's uh…' Sandy hesitated. How was Kirsten?

'I expect more details than her name Sanford. I'm already familiar with it,' the Nana snapped exasperatedly.

'Kirsten's well…Kirsten.'

'I know who she is. Sandy, what's going on?'

'I…um, don't really know how she is. She doesn't tell me, she's pretending she'd ok…I don't know if…'

'Well it's your job to find out. You did marry her after all.'

Despite a hint of sympathy, the sourness was evident in the last words and when he didn't respond her tone became sharp. 'Sanford Cohen are you listening to me?'

'As if you care.'

'I may not like her particularly…at all. I may dislike everything about her; her background, her lifestyle, her appearance, her religion, her house, her business, her wealth, her late father and everything he stood for. I'm not going to praise her because she's had everything handed to her on a plate and that's nothing to be proud of. You won't catch Sophie Cohen flattering anyone because of their family connections or social standing. But I won't deny that she's not as soft as she could be for someone brought up like her. I guess being wealthy doesn't make all difficulties easier. Although it sure as hell usually helps. She's coped with a lot in her eyes; nothing to trials in real life but she can't help that.' Her voice was patronising.

'Ma, her sons left, her father died and her husband was a selfish ass. Tell me what's not real about all that?'

'I'm just saying she's never had to work for a living, never know what it was like to go without.'

'Oh so the first three years of our marriage when we were in Berkeley just don't count.'

'Three years Sandy? Listen to yourself. People struggle for their entire lives. Not everyone marries an heiress with a trust fund larger than the GDP of some small countries and ends up living in a house that is positively palatial…'

'So I got lucky, face it. But you know what? I don't care about any of that stuff and you know damn well I don't. All I care about is Kirsten. I love Kirsten and she loves me, that's why I'm lucky. You just don't want to accept that.' Sandy shook his head, almost laughing. 'Even after twenty years you still. Can't. Accept it.'

'Oh believe you me I've resigned myself to the fact you love her.'

'Well thanks, that really means a lot to me.'

'I came to the wedding didn't I?'

'Only because I said you didn't have to give your blessing.'

'It's more than her father did.'

Sandy shook his head. 'I'm not arguing about Caleb Nichol, let him rest in peace.'

'That's the last thing that man's gonna be doing; he left too many hard feelings and secrets behind him.'

'I understand why you dislike the man; he was as crooked as they come although he did what he did for his family.' The Nana harrumphed crossly but her son ignored her. 'What I can't stand is you holding it against Kirsten. It's not her fault and she's not her father.'

'Oh she has her own vices.'

'Don't we all?'

'She's an alcoholic.'

'A rehabilitated one.'

'Mmmhmm because it makes all the difference.'

'See, this is why we don't visit, this why I always come alone; I don't want her to hear you talking like this.'

Sophie smiled and shook her head. 'You don't give her enough credit. Whatever you might say she's her father's daughter; got that stubborn streak. Don't think she couldn't give as good as she gets.'

'Only she wouldn't do it out of spite.'

'Oh Sandy, when are you going to understand I have a hundred reasons for disliking her but the main one is that she's your wife. Just because I was angry you left doesn't mean I didn't want the best for you. What I hated most was that you loved her, were willing to give up everything for her, no matter what I thought; she was more important to you than me. She's what kept you West. I admit I'm appalled that she descended into alcoholism like that but at least she beat it. As for caring, I just don't want you running to me if it all goes wrong. As satisfying as it would be to say 'I told you so.'

The mix of pure insults and backhanded compliments had left Sandy's head spinning.

'Ma…I…'

'Oh shut up Sandy, I don't want any smart-alecky comments about how soft I'm getting.'

'I understand. But when are you going to understand that Kirsten is what's best for me? I didn't marry her for any of the reasons you dislike her, I-…'

'I know, I know, you married her for love. She did too, must have; there wasn't much else going for you. Initially I admit I didn't trust her; thought she was a spoilt brat using dating you to annoy Daddy…and then you got engaged. That had me stumped. Was positive she must be pregnant; why else? But no.'

'Thanks Ma, really making your son feel good about himself here.'

'I'm being honest here Sandy, you're a blind fool sometimes.'

'Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes?' Sandy quoted.

'Psssht! Don't start with that nonsense. Still, I can't deny she loves you; she could have had anyone, but she chose you; the poor, struggling Jew from the Bronx and she's stuck with you. Therefore she can't be all bad. Not that I like her or anything mind you.'

Sandy was speechless, was there anyone as contradictory as his mother? She began rattling teacups in the sink, a sure sign she thought she'd said too much, raising her voice over them, 'So when are you going to tell me what's going on between the pair of you?' she demanded.

'Um…well…this summer was hard, really hard but it was last year when everything started to unravel. Last summer was tough.'

'Oh yes, with the boys gone? I'm sure you two managed to enjoy having the house to yourselves…'

'Or not. I've never seen Kirsten so upset, so hurt, so angry…so cold. I think we lost each other that summer and we've been searching ever since. I thought we'd found our groove but I guess I was wrong. Things still aren't right.'

'Well that's very poetic but from what I hear you and your wife don't seem that remote from each other…the things poor Sethela tells me; it's positively indecent to behave like that in front of your children.'

'You know how Seth likes to exaggerate Ma.'

'He's a sensitive child.'

'Sensitive my a-…'

'SANFORD! I take it that means the pair of you are still behaving indecently? You've been married for more than twenty years for crying out loud.'

The Nana had continued to twist Sandy's ear all afternoon until he left, exhausted but reassured that his mother was in fine fettle. It was him and Kirsten he was worried about.

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How was The Nana? Hope I got her a little bit right!