Y'all thought I forgot about this… I know you did. I confess. I've been carrying on a torrid affair with BMcK and it leaves me with absolutely no time to write.
I think I know where I'm going with this story. At least I do right now. Don't ask me tomorrow. I could get lost following my own rabbit path.
Maybe if I get a seeing eye dog….
Don't own… Don't sue…Don't throw sharp pointy objects…
Chapter Twelve.
Monday, 7:53 PM
Dinner had been quiet, the silence mildly discomforting. The only sound was the scrape of Seth's spoon or the clatter of chopsticks. Ryan took his Pad Thai for a spin around his plate, the traveling noodles occasionally detouring to his mouth. Sandy and Kirsten did their best not to watch every move he made. Kirsten tried not to count each mouthful he took. It was a small victory that Ryan had even joined them for dinner. She knew his first instinct was still to hide away from all of them, so when Sandy found the boys behind the pool house she was both thrilled and relieved that Ryan had followed.
Sandy excused himself and Kirsten, leaving the boys to clean up. He led his wife to his office, locking the door behind them.
Seth wiped the table as Ryan rinsed the dishes before loading them in the dishwasher. He ran a cloth over the already clean counter. He could feel Seth ready to implode, the self-imposed quiet now manifesting itself into a series of assorted twitches. Ryan knew he should put Seth out of his misery.
"Wanna run a few games?"
Seth exhaled loudly.
"Thank you….Yes…"
He picked up one of the bags his mom brought and looked through the games, quickly putting the Tom Clancy game back. In light of recent events the firing of automatic weapons was not a good plan.
The rest of the games?
Definitely picked out by the Kirsten.
NASCAR? Pirates of the Caribbean? Seth didn't know what was more disturbing. His mom actually thinking he'd play it or his mom having a thing for Johnny Depp.
He held up the selections.
"Uh, dude… we have to make a pact that mom is never allowed to buy games again. This is just wrong… On so many levels…"
Ryan squinted, trying to focus on the boxes Seth waved.
"NASCAR doesn't seem so bad…"
Seth shook his head.
"Ry--an…"
The way Seth enunciated his name made him feel like a bad puppy. Seth continued.
"NASCAR is for the unfortunate inbred population with crimson coloured necks and bad dental hygiene. Instead of being taught their numbers by a puppet vampire like the rest of us, they learned by watching cars driving in circles. Long, boring circles, Ryan. Think Klu Klux Klan and Ollie… It's the real reason the South lost the war…"
"You're comparing "Dirt to Daytona" to the Civil War?
"It's a bit of a stretch… I know that, but trust me, no good can come of this…. I'm feeling the grey matter liquefying just thinking about this…"
"So you'd rather play a game featuring a computer generated actor your Mom has the hots for?"
"NO! Do not go there…. Argh… Visual…. Pointy stick, scissors….Anything…"
Seth dropped the games and covered his eyes, shielding himself from the mental images.
Ryan walked over and picked up the NASCAR game.
"Thought you'd see it my way…"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kirsten and Sandy went over the plans for Trey's memorial service. There would be no grave side service, just a small gathering at a non-denominational chapel.
No visitation.
No luncheon.
Just an opportunity for good-bye.
It didn't surprise her that Dawn couldn't be found. She knew when Ryan's moth… Dawn walked out 18 months ago she was leaving…
For good.
She was willing to leave her son one more time… to give him a life she never could.
She didn't have it in her.
She couldn't care for anyone else.
She didn't have what it took.
She saw the way her son looked at her. Like she could fix anything. She saw the way Ryan looked at her….
Kirsten remembered those words. She remembered the look of grief on Dawn's face.
The look of sad resignation on Ryan's face.
The heartbreak.
She would have done anything never to see that look again.
Her best wasn't good enough.
No matter what they did, what they would do, there would always be a part of Ryan they'd never be able to reach.
"Kirsten… Hon…?"
Sandy's gentle voice reached through her thoughts. She offered up a tired smile.
"I'm fine… It's…. The last few days have been really overwhelming. We almost lost him…" She whispered.
Sandy held her.
"I know" he said softly. "Every time I look at him… look at Seth, I see what we could have …"
He couldn't finish the thought. Sandy and Kirsten stayed locked in a comfortable embrace, each silently reminding themselves that they did indeed get in way over their heads, but it was the best decision they had ever made.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Despite his protestations regarding the validity of auto racing as a sport, albeit a graphically designed one, Seth found himself enjoying the game. Ryan seemed engrossed by it, constantly edging Seth's car into the wall.
Ryan sat cross legged on the floor, clutching a controller. He frantically worked the buttons, trying to make the small blue car go faster around the plastic track. Trey sat across from him, commanding a bright yellow racer. The only noise in the room was the sound of the low hum of the cars as they raced through the slotted course.
2 boys playing quietly.
Brothers.
A door thrown open.
Verbal daggers tearing a moment.
A treasured gift from a neighbour whose own boys had outgrown it now lay in pieces.
Eyes glistening with tears not allowed to fall.
Ryan rubbing Trey's back as the last remnants of the older boy's childhood shattered.
Ryan abruptly put the PS2 controller down and left the room, hesitating at the foot of the stairs. He'd promised Sandy he'd stay in the guestroom, but the walls were closing in on him.
Suffocating.
Stealing what little air he could draw into his lungs.
Seth followed him, unsure of what to make of Ryan's sudden departure. Remembering the threat of happy memories with Grandma Nichol being shoved up his ass. He approached cautiously.
"Hey…"
"I'm okay…I just need some space… I'm going to bed…"
"You sure?"
Ryan spun around angrily.
"Some fucking space, Seth…"
"Can I…"
"What's it going to take for you to leave me alone? A cross? A Star of David? I haven't seen the movie. I don't know the fucking rules… Just…"
He pushed past Seth, taking the stairs two at a time, closing the guest room door with a violent shove.
The sound of splintering wood brought Kirsten and Sandy out of the office. They looked questioningly at Seth.
"Don't look at me. He's the one playing on the mood swings, but if you're gonna go in there, bring a priest… Father Karras… Have him perform an exorcism…"
"Seth!" Kirsten admonished.
"I'm just saying I thought his head was going to do a 360 and I'd have to dodge some pea soup, change his name to Regan… Do clergy even make house calls?"
"Not helping Seth… Why don't you and your Dad go do some… guy stuff and I'll go… um, I'll go…"
"Mother, whom I love so dearly, Ryan was quite emphatic about being left alone…"
Kirsten's eyes flashed.
"Well what he wants and what's reality are two different things…"
Sandy and Seth watched as Kirsten threw some coffee beans in the grinder, measured the grinds, filled the coffee make with the Fiji Water and flipped the switch. Her cooking skills may be lacking, but now that she was unemployed she'd make one hell of a barrista. A few minutes later she was headed up the stairs with two steaming mugs that would hopefully gain her entry into the "Fortress of Solitude".
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Seth flopped back onto the family room sofa, looking up at his father expectantly.
"Well I guess the Peep jousting tournament will have to be put on hold, not that I don't want to be spending quality time with you…"
"Peep jousting? Do I dare ask? Do I really want to know…"
A half hearted grin appeared on Seth's face.
"Mom's secret stash of stale Peeps, tooth picks, microwave. The one that doesn't explode wins…and then gets eaten…."
The smile disappeared and a more somber Seth added quietly.
"I don't know what to do anymore. Trey's dead… I get that. Doesn't matter what I do or what I say, it always seems like the wrong thing… And before you say anything, I know it's not about me, but I just want to help…" Sandy lowered his tired body beside Seth's. "I mean we were playing video games. NASCAR. Oh, by the way, don't let mom pick out games again. I'm going to need some serious therapy, but I digress…"
Seth swallowed hard before continuing.
"Ryan lost his brother…. And now I think I'm losing mine too…"
Sandy put his arm around his son's shoulder.
"It's hard to watch him go through this. It's harder when he's pushing us away. He's not just grieving, he's feeling guilty…"
"What does Ryan have to feel guilty about? He jumped in after Trey…Tried to save him…He did everything he could. I don't get it…I mean, Ryan nearly drowned…"
"But he didn't." Sandy interrupted softly. "He survived and now he's second guessing everything. Every decision. When he tries to relax, tries not to think about it, the guilt sets in. He's here playing video games. Trey's not. He has a future. Trey doesn't. I pulled Ryan out of the water, but no one got his brother…. He's hanging on to a lot of guilt…"
"And I told him he wasn't dealing with it… he was feeling sorry for himself…"
Seth felt the supportive squeeze on his arm.
"He's dealing as best as he can.
They sat in a comfortable peace for a few moments.
"I'm thinking we can start our own travel agency with all the guilt trips Ryan takes. You know, rack up some serious frequent flier miles…"
Sandy rolled his eyes.
"Or we can play this NASCAR game your mom bought…"
Seth stood up and held his hand out to his dad.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kirsten held both mugs in one hand as she knocked on the damaged door. It swung open on its own volition, hanging somewhat askew from battered hinges.
Ryan was lying on the bed, one arm bent over his eyes, the other folded across his chest. Both fists clenched tightly. She called his name softly, not surprised when he ignored her. Kirsten put his coffee on the nightstand and then sat on the end of the bed.
"I remember the day after my mom died…" The way Ryan's body stiffened confirmed her suspicions that he was awake. "Dad was off making arrangements. Seth, Sandy and I were sitting in my parent's living room. Jimmy was there, so were a couple of other people. It was pretty quiet. No one was saying anything. I think we were all afraid to. Out of the blue, Seth announces that Grandma has now having tea with Jesus and Moses, but was wondering if she'd have to keep kosher. Then Seth started asking if they had cheeseburgers in heaven. He had such a serious look on his face. When he asked if my mom was going to start a "Newpsie" club, Sandy, well, you know Sandy, he lost it. The more he tried to control himself, the worse he got and then we were all laughing until Dad walked in with a minister. I felt so guilty. My mom was dead and we were making jokes about kosher cheeseburgers and Newpsies arguing over having 2 black tie events in the same month. Anyway, I ran from the room thinking what a horrible person I was. I had no right to be enjoying myself. I was supposed to be grieving. Pastor MacKenzie found me and me made me realize grieving wasn't what Mom would have wanted. Just because I would move on didn't mean I would forget her. Mom shaped too much of who I am, just like Trey helped to shape who you are. He'll always be a part of you. As long as you keep living, he will too…."
She had said all she could for now. Any more would just push him further away. She needed to wait for him.
Accept what they were offering.
Everything they were willing to give.
Kirsten felt Ryan shift, pulling himself up. She reached out and he hesitated momentarily before he leaned into her arms, allowing himself to be comforted. She felt the warm tears as they seeped into her sweater.
No words were needed.
A mother and her son.
A shared grief.
No longer carried alone.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Caleb hung up the phone. Smug, self satisfaction over-riding any trepidation over what he'd manage to achieve. He was a risk taker. He didn't get to be Newport's "Man of the Year" by playing it safe.
He played to win.
At all costs.
The prize was his daughter.
His grandson.
Taken from him by a felon.
It was bad enough when Kirsten had married a man who didn't have enough sense to make his mark in corporate law, but instead crusaded as a public defender, deluding himself he could change society.
Sandy brought that boy home.
Kirsten's blind love for Sandy had allowed that boy to stay.
Her love for Seth had allowed that boy to weasel his way into the family.
His family.
And his family didn't include anyone's discards.
