This is quite a long chapter, so make yourself your drink of choice and settle in. And, as always, please review. Huge thank you to those who have reviewed so far. Enjoy.
He heard the front door open and close again, and the unmistakeable sound of Kirsten's heels coming down the hallway. He didn't heard her drop her bag and keys on the counter and imagined they were at the front door. He could hear her shuffling through the mail and getting a water bottle out of the fridge, like she did most afternoons. She turned the light on in the kitchen, and it lengthened the shadows outside.
"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were home. I thought you'd be at the office." Kirsten came up the steps to where Sandy was sitting, unopened mail and water bottle in hand.
"I thought I'd wait around, see how Ryan's day went. We talked for a while until he had to leave to get Seth."
"Hmm." Kirsten leant across to kiss Sandy. Her tongue snaked across his, her lips lingering longer than usual. It was a less chaste kiss than what he was used to and he favoured her with a look that she returned innocently as she sat down.
"So, how was his day?" Kirsten started opening envelopes, sorting bills into piles according to when they needed to be paid.
Sandy gave himself a moment to gather his thoughts, although he longed to still Kirsten's hands and force her to tell him if there was any truth to what Ryan had said. Everything Sandy remembered pointed to it being true, but he hadn't been able to accept it, that Kirsten would keep from him something this big. He knew if Rebecca and he had been required to make a decision that huge, he would have told Kirsten long ago.
"He said he saw Dawn. She asked him for money, paraded him around like a trophy because he's going to graduate high school, then told him he probably wouldn't get in to college."
"Is he okay?" Kirsten looked over to Sandy, her nails still unconsciously tearing an envelope open. Concern fringed her eyes.
"Yeah, I think so. He's a good kid. He knows he can rise above them. I just don't think Dawn can hurt him as much anymore." Kirsten nodded, resumed her mail sorting. She folded the envelopes and put them together, before stacking the bills.
"He saw Theresa." Sandy shot a glance at Kirsten, noting the lack of change. She leant back on the chair, mail sorted, and ran a hand through her hair, tousled by the activity of her day.
"How is she?" Kirsten asked. The kitchen light shimmered across each strand, catching in the soft curls and waves. She'd taken her jacket off, and she was wearing a silk shirt, cut low. Light sneaked past her hair into the curves of her collarbones, the subtle softness of her shoulders. Her face was in darkness, her voice soft and level. Sandy reached out, and her hand found his, almost by reflex. They were so attuned to each other, after all this time. Before today, Sandy would have said with confidence that he knew almost everything about Kirsten, from the brand of shampoo she used to the position she preferred in bed.
"She's still upset about losing the baby, Ryan said." Sandy let this sink in, let his fingers entwine with hers over the table. He heard Kirsten open her water bottle and take a sip.
"It would be hard. But at least she's down there with her Mom, someone to talk about it with if she needs to." Kirsten said. Sandy wanted to ask her who she had talked to. The father of the baby? A friend? Or was she completely alone.
"He asked me how I'd coped." Sandy licked his lips, knowing he needed to talk about this with her, for his own peace of mind, knowing that, even after all these years, Kirsten wouldn't want to bring it up. The fact that Theresa had guessed it, and Kirsten had affirmed her suspicious, it couldn't be too far below the surface. Sandy just didn't know how much this wound had closed.
"Coped with what?" Kirsten was still relaxed, her finger stroking a spot near his thumb that she knew he liked.
"The abortion we apparently had." Immediately Kirsten's hand stilled, was pulled away from his. He couldn't see her eyes to gauge a reaction; wasn't sure he'd trust them anyway. He could see her outline, watched her pull her feet up to her chest and wrap her arms around them. She looked out, onto the darkened ocean. Sandy let the silence stretch as long as he was able before he snapped it.
"Honey, I just think we need to talk about this." Only more silence met him from her side of the table.
"Baby…"
"It was a long time ago, Sandy. It has nothing to do with you." Her words were infused with a venom of sorts, a fierceness he wasn't expecting. She got up off the chair, walked across the patio to their room and firmly closed him out. Sandy sighed, rubbed his eyes. He should have known this would happen. He knew he needed to go in there after her, knew something like this could send her into relapse. He never should have asked her, but he couldn't look at her every day without needing to know if it was true.
Sandy walked back through to the kitchen, taking the bills with him. He placed them on the sideboard and threw the envelopes out. Leaning on the counter, Sandy stretched his back and breathed out slowly. Kirsten- an abortion. The girl who had once lived in the back of a mail truck, been able to dance all night, painted landscapes that almost brought tears to the surface with their haunting beauty… This girl had once been faced with the choice of whether her child should live or die.
Sandy heard the front door close, and almost swore. He ran out just in time to see her car pulling out of the driveway. Last time she'd taken off on him, she'd ended up in a sleazy motel with a bottle of vodka. The time before, she'd nearly been killed in a collision with a truck. Sandy felt the pit of his stomach turn to ice water. He didn't want her drowning her sorrows in a bar, didn't want the inevitable fallout; he didn't know if he could deal with her being away from him for so long again. And, the niggling thought he'd had since she'd gone directly from rehab to Charlotte's chose this point to resurface: he didn't want her to decide to never come home.
"Ryan, I need the car. Now." Sandy hung up on Ryan as quickly as he had dialled, and waited on the front stoop. He'd grabbed a jacket for Kirsten, not knowing if she had hers. The ait temperature was starting to cool in the evenings and in whatever state he found his wife, he wanted her to be warm, to know he'd thought of her, that he wasn't angry at her at all. He checked his back pockets again. Like the last time he'd checked, his keys and his wallet were still there. Sandy shifted from foot to foot, impatiently awaiting Ryan. He willed him to break speed limits to get back, because the longer it took Sandy to follow Kirsten, the better chance she had of evading him and the further away she could get.
Finally, Ryan pulled the car in, and he and Seth got out. Sandy almost pushed Ryan out of the way to get into the driver's seat.
"Wha-?" Ryan started.
"Did you pass Kirsten on the way here?" Sandy asked. He saw Ryan shake his head, saw his thoughts start to leap ahead to a conclusion that would possibly drown him in guilt if anything happened to Kirsten.
"No, Dad. Only some fake tanners in a jeep." Seth was, as usual, oblivious to the tension that heightened the air around him.
"Stay next to the phone," Sandy said, before pulling out of the drive.
"Well, that was different. I wonder who's calling. So, you want to play some Kong? I'm thinking-."
"Seth, you need to call Summer. We need her car."
"What, dude, we just left there." Ryan almost clenched his fists as Seth continued to be obtuse.
"Seth, call her." Reluctantly, Seth pulled out his phone. His conversation was peppered with a lot of 'I don't know'ing, and he hung up, shooting a baleful glance at Ryan.
"She'll be here in ten. What's the problem?" Ryan couldn't restrict himself to staying in the same spot. He was feeling nauseous and snakes of fear coiled along his spine. He knew he couldn't tell Seth anything about what he thought might have happened; that Sandy had asked Kirsten about the abortion, and that she'd fled into the night. It was because of him, because he hadn't been able to keep his mouth shut and stay out of business that wasn't his, that Sandy had called her on it, and she'd done her vanishing act. He knew Sandy was thinking of her relapse. He was thinking the same thing. He knew, too, that Sandy couldn't handle another summer without her. Much as they wouldn't admit it, he and Seth couldn't handle an all-male household for another three months, either. She was the main source of light in the house; an impossible lamp that lit up every room she entered.
"Ryan, what's going on?" Seth tried again, and Ryan turned to face him.
"I think Sandy and Kirsten had a fight, and now Kirsten's gone." Seth visibly paled, slumped against a stone pillar. He knew the underlying theme of Ryan's words; the worst that they all thought when Kirsten looked as if she'd had a bad day and came home to reach in the fridge. She'd pulled out juice or water every time, since all alcohol had been banished from the house since the intervention, but Ryan knew they were all wondering what they'd do if she ever pulled out a vodka bottle.
"She'll be okay, right? I mean…" Seth trailed off, sensing Ryan couldn't give him the sense of false security he needed. Ryan continued pacing, looking down the driveway to check for approaching headlights. He'd tried calling Kirsten's phone, but it was switched off. He'd left her two messages, and hung up the rest of the time her voice mail kicked in. He felt useless minutes ticking past, and started walking down the driveway. He just needed to do something. It was all his fault she was gone. If he hadn't said anything to Sandy… If he'd minded his own business…
"Dude, wait up." Caught up in his own thoughts, Seth hadn't noticed Ryan leave until he'd skulked half the way down to the road. Ryan heard Seth's footsteps clatter behind him at the same time as Summer's car came to a stop outside the driveway. They both jogged down to her and jumped in.
"What's going on?" She demanded. Despite the cool weather, the top was down, and she had End of Fashion playing. Seth reached out and turned it down before speaking.
"Mom and Dad had a fight."
"And now Kirsten's gone." Ryan interjected as he leant forward in the back seat, wanting to hurry up the proceedings.
"We have to look for her." Seth said, turning to stare out his side of the car. Summer shrugged, turned the car around.
"So, where should we check first. I mean, does she go to bars anymore if she can't drink?" Summer was oblivious to the look Seth and Ryan traded, both hoping she wasn't at a bar. To Summer, it was as if there was a wall blocking Kirsten from alcohol, as if even if she wanted to drink, she couldn't. Ryan knew all too well this wasn't the case, and that if Kirsten wanted to drink again she could.
"Try along the strip, then we'll drive past Julie's." Seth pointed as he spoke, along the main drag that separated the vehicular traffic of Newport from the foot traffic along the sidewalk and the silky shores of the far-stretching beach. Summer stopped at the corner, and they all looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of a blonde head, a black SUV they recognised. After three false pointings as they were waiting at the traffic light, Summer sighed in frustration. "Why the hell does everyone need to drive a black SUV?" She demanded, irritation causing her to floor the car as the light finally turned green. Seth and Ryan barely noticed the car screech around the corner, instead intent on finding Kirsten, hopefully unharmed and completely sober.
Ryan's phone rang, and he checked the display as he picked up.
"Sandy, we're out looking too… We're driving along the strip… Okay, well we'll check Julie's next… Okay, we'll do west. 'Bye." Seth's eyes found his, and Ryan shook his head imperceptively. Seth pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, hit a number on speed dial.
"Mom, it's me. Can you give us a call and tell us that you're… That you're okay." Seth's voice cracked towards the end of the message, and Summer sought his hand out, gave it a squeeze.
"To Julie's?" Summer asked. Seth nodded, and she made a turn at the end of the strip, started driving towards the grittier end of town. Drawing towards the trailer park the Cooper's lived in, Summer slowed. There were no SUVs in sight. Faint blue light from televisions flickered behind tattered curtains, but there was no evidence that Kirsten was here, or that she'd ever been.
"Should we ask?" Summer said. Seth shook his head.
"No time," Ryan said, before following with, "I told Sandy we'd check the bars on the west side. He's taking the east." Summer nodded, drove away from the depressing trailer park, towards swankier surroundings.
Sandy had been looking around bar parking lots, and calling the Newpsies on his cell at the same time. It was unlikely Kirsten would find solace with any of them, but he felt better for checking. He rang Julie, knowing the kids had already been past there, needing to find out for himself. Julie hadn't seen Kirsten since the morning, when they'd met about a client. Sandy didn't bother to make up a lie about why he was trying to find Kirsten, instead hanging up on Julie's questions.
He was getting more frantic by the minute, images of Kirsten in hospital or curled, drunk, in a corner somewhere were taunting him, flashing intermittently between glare from the street lights. For what felt like the fiftieth time, Sand hit the speed number that called Kirsten. Again, she sounded vaguely cheery on her voicemail, asking him to leave a message and that she'd get back to him. He hoped that was true.
Sandy pulled into the parking lot of the first bar, first checking the parking lot before traipsing into the smoky atmosphere to see if she was there, considering a martini, wondering whether to make the leap from sobriety into something that was much covered territory, and much darker for them all.
Inside, Sandy slowly walked around, hoping for a glimpse of a blue silk singlet, softly tousled blonde hair. Instead, he was greeted with questioning stares, unfriendly looks, apathy. It continued this way for the next twelve bars he checked. And the following twelve. Her car, absent from the lot. Her face, not found amongst the crowd. And Sandy, getting more scared, smelling more like cigarette smoke. He called Ryan again, got the update that there was nothing to be updated on. Kirsten was still missing.