Morning After
Chapter Two
Sandy walked briskly across the lawn, crispy and brown from the sun. As opposed to Eva's house next door, this house was quite the opposite. Almost no effort had been made to keep either the garden or the house itself up. Cracks lined the pavement leading to the front door which Sandy hesitated in front of.
Finally, drawing a breath, he knocked firmly on the cheap wooden door, careful not to get slivers in his hand. It was only a moment before it swung inwards, revealing a frazzled and drunk looking woman. Dawn he remembered, somewhat sorry he hadn't thought to get a last name.
"Whaddya want?" she demanded, words coming out in one big slur.
Sandy noticed she held a glass in her hand containing what he assumed was vodka. Drinker's choice for a less-alcoholic breath.
"Dawn?" Sandy asked, stupidly.
"Yeah, who the hell're you?" she lurched forward for a moment.
"Sandy Cohen, I'm a public defender -"
"You punched Greg" she stated, straightening her posture and gripping the door tighter.
Sandy faltered, "Well, yes but-"
"Fuck you"
"I didn't come here for a fight Dawn, I came here about your son."
"Trey?"
"Ryan" Sandy corrected.
Dawn snorted, "Far as I'm concerned, I only got one kid now, so why don't you take your nose an' shove it elsewheres"
"Look, Dawn. I don't think that Ryan is at fault for any of what happened outside -"
She snorted, "You don't know nothin'. That... kid... is trouble. He's too quiet... too much like Trey... like his father, I see it in his eyes and I don't want it. Don't want him."
"You're just going to give him up? Just like that? You're his mother damnit!" he finally exclaimed.
She stared at him for a moment, coldly, then took another sip of her drink. "I don't want him. The way he sneaks around, the way he looks at me, at us! The fights at school, the calls from teachers, the attitude... I could go on and on, but I won't cause it's none of yer goddam business. I don't want him and that's that. I got one of 'em already, I don' need a second" Dawn began to swing the door closed.
Sandy, unable to help himself at this point, stepped in it's way. The angry woman popped her head out once more, he spoke before she could yell at him. "Don't you think you're over reacting? Kids are kids, they all get in to trouble, right? Maybe you just.. need a break from him? Maybe just for... the week end?"
Dawn stopped trying to push the door closed and stared at him.
He continued to rush on, "I mean, like a vacation from him. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? So maybe Ryan could just.. stay with a friend for a couple days, until you can think things out. And then you can make a final decision."
"He ain't got no friends"
"What about...Theresa?" he finally remembered the girl's name. "Maybe he could stay next door?"
Dawn took another sip of her drink, the glass now empty. "If it's a vacation, I shouldn't hafta see my kid"
Sandy tried to hide his disbelief. "Then... he can come home with me" he said in a rush, trying to get her to agree to something. To anything.
"Where do you live?"
" Not in Chino" he replied.
She studied him through reddened eyes. "Fine. I don't care. Keep him there for all I care"
"Here's my number, you call me and let me know when you want to see him again, okay?" he handed her a business card, scribbled cell phone number on the back. "This is my cell phone, you can call that anytime, day or night. We'll work this out, okay?"
Dawn grabbed the card from him and studied it for a moment.
"Dawn?" a man's voice called from inside.
The woman in front of him jumped and, without a goodbye to Sandy, slammed the door closed in his face.
He stood there for a minute feeling like a solicitor before Sandy finally realised exactly what he had agreed to. Another kid. For a time that was undisclosed. The first thought to enter his mind was what, exactly, he would tell Kirsten, nevertheless Seth. The second thought to enter his mind was, what the hell was he supposed to tell Ryan?
Ryan was sitting on the curb pulling at dried out crabgrass when a shadow fell over him. This was it, he knew. He'd heard Dawn earlier, telling the police officer she didn't want him, to take him to child services.
He wasn't sure exactly what he'd done to piss her off so much this time. Not that he ever really did any time he'd had to take off for the week end, but this was different. This wasn't just a beating from her fling-of-the-month. This wasn't just a drunken or high Dawn kicking him out of the house for a couple hours or a night. This was Dawn, his mother, kicking him out of the house for good. Saying she didn't want him any more, at all.
She was giving him up.
He had tried to apologize. She hadn't listened. She never did when she was drunk.
Where would he end up? In some foster home with five other kids? He knew some kids from school who lived with foster families. Ryan had actually become somewhat friends with one of them and had ended up at his place. Two weeks later, Ryan had been invited back to a completely different house. Same kid, different house. Two weeks.
Ryan didn't want that. He wouldn't have that. And what about Trey? How was he supposed to see his brother? When was he supposed to see his brother? And Theresa? They wouldn't be neighbours anymore. He couldn't crash on her couch if his mother's boyfriends decided to take out a rough day on him. He had no where to hide. No where to go.
With a feeling of dread Ryan looked up. Squinting against the rapidly descending sun, he could make out a tall figure carrying a briefcase.
Arturo's lawyer. He didn't even know the man's name, what was he doing here anyways?
The man sat down next to him, dropping his expensive leather briefcase against the curb and leaning back on his palms. The grass crunched beneath them.
Ryan darted his gaze back to the road in front of him. Larch Street, cracked and broken with potholes that could probably swallow the largest of vehicles. Would it ever be home again?
He glanced at the man sitting next to him from the corner of his eye. The man was staring back. Openly. His hands were now in his lap, drumming against a tune that was only in the man's head.
"What?" Ryan finally asked.
"What?" The man asked, innocence dripping from his voice, "Can't a guy just... sit on a curb and relax?"
Ryan was silent for a moment, "Not when he's wearing a suit worth more than my entire wardrobe and leather shoes worth twice that, while sitting across from his newer model car that would offer the comfot of air conditioning."
Ryan was sure it was the longest statement he had made in a very long time. In Chino, the shorter your answer was, the more breath you had to run in a given moment. But this man, somehow, was different. Ryan could sense it.
"Fair enough" The man finally said, "You want to talk in the car, where there's air conditioning?"
Ryan shot him a look from the corner of his eyes, "I was always told not to get in cars with strangers". Of course, Dawn had never told him that, but he'd heard other kids using the phrase, and assumed it was generally a parental norm.
The man snorted in laughter.
Did he know Ryan's secret?
"We've got to talk"
Ryan shifted, "What about?" He hadn't done anything wrong, far as he knew.
"Your mom"
It was Ryan's turn to chuckle.
An awkward silence followed for a moment, but the man rushed to fill it. "Look, Ryan -"
"I know already. I know" Ryan saved him the speech.
"You... do?" Sandy asked, incredulous. How could this child know his mother didn't want him, and not be heartbroken. If there was one thing parents were suppsoed to offer, it was unconditional love.
"Yeah. I get it. She doesn't want me anymore. I go to a foster home, get shipped around from home to home. What's not to love, really?"
"You're wrong"
"Oh yeah? About what, exactly?"
Sandy looked the child in the eye and held his gaze, "You're not going to a foster home, and your mother does love you, she's just a little..."
"Drunk?" Ryan offered. The man's face fell, "High?" he continued.
"I was going to say upset and confused"
Ryan shrugged, "So where am I going anyways?"
The man paused for a moment, "Well... I had a talk with your mom, and she agreed to... instead of giving up custody, take a little... break... so.. you're going to stay with me for a couple days"
Ryan smirked, "You're kidding right?"
Sandy shook his head.
"I don't even know you"
"Sandy Cohen. Age is not to be disclosed, I'm a public defender"
"I guess that clears that up" Ryan stated sarcastically.
"Look, Ryan. I know this is a little weird but -"
"A little weird? I don't even know you, and suddenly I'm supposed to trust you, and go home with you? Are you lonely, or am I supposed to be the family pet you're bringing home?" Ryan snapped angrily, standing up from the curb. "I don't need your charity and I don't need any favours, so what is your deal?"
Sandy stood up slowly, towering over the young boy. As soon as Sandy had straightened he saw Ryan involuntarily flinch and step backwards, his face quickly changing back to a mask of anger. "It's none of the above, really. You want to know the truth?"
Ryan stared back stonily.
"The truth is that I agreed to take you for a few days without even realising what I was doing. All I knew is that all day long, every day, I see kids like you that went out and did something stupid because so-and-so said to do it. I didn't want you to be one." Sandy could hear the quiver in his own voice, on the verge of losing his head.
Ryan's angry facade dropped then and he hung his head. There was a moment of silence before he looked up again and Sandy was surprised to see tear streaks down his bruised and discoloured face.
"What did I do?" he whispered so softly Sandy nearly didn't hear him, "What did I do to make her not love me anymore?"
Sandy's heart broke for what seemed like the tenth time in the past couple hours, and he moved forward pulling the young boy towards him. Ryan resisted for a moment, but finally let Sandy embrace him when he realised there was no danger of being punched or slapped.
Together they stood like that for what seemed like hours. Until Sandy could draw a full breath again, and until Ryan had stopped shaking in his arms from his sobs.
Sandy pulled in to his driveway, the bright lights shining against the huge house sitting at the end of it. Kirsten was home, her car was in the driveway. Naturally he assumed Seth would be home as well, as the kid was always home. A social outcast, just as Sandy himself had really been.
He studied the boy next to him who had fallen asleep on the long ride to Newport. Sandy didn't think the kid had even made it until they hit the outer limits of Chino before he'd submitted to unconsciousness. Physically and emotionally worn out from the day.
Sandy felt the same way, wishing he could just walk inside and pass out on the living room sofa, but he also knew it wouldn't happen. He had a lot of explaining to do. He'd decided that the conversation he needed to have with Kirsten was not exactly one they should have on the phone. Their relationship, solid as it seemed, had recently hit a few bumps.
Bumps like Caleb, her father, and the time that each of their jobs swallowed away from their family.
They were falling apart, Kirsten had said. Family dinners were rare, Seth was practically being raised by Rosa. Everyone's relationship was on the rocks right now. He hoped they could survive this. Unsnapping his seatbelt quietly Sandy removed the keys from the ignition, climbing out of the car and making his way over to Ryan's side. Softly and slowly, as though attempting not to wake a newborn baby once it finally fell asleep, Sandy unclipped Ryan's seatbelt.
It struck him then how odd the gesture seemed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to carry Seth in from the car. Not that he had to carry Ryan, he just didn't want to wake him up. The kid had had one hell of a day.
Fortunately Sandy managed to slip Ryan from the car with very little trouble though carrying him was more than a little awkward. Though short for his age, Ryan seemed to have hidden weight somewhere. Perhaps what he had chalked up to babyfat was a little bit of muscle? Maybe Ryan was a little scrapper, like Sandy himself had been.
Seth hadn't taken after him like that. He was definitely not in to the team sports thing. Though he did sail with Caleb occaisionally, Sandy couldn't for the life of him, get Seth to try surfing.
Sandy's arm was nearly numb by the time he reached the front door. Angling his body awkwardly he managed to press down on the door hand and push the door open with the back of his shoulder. Glancing down at Ryan who was still asleep, Sandy smiled. He'd made it, he thought. Now he just had to find a place to put him.
He kicked his shoes off and slowly trudged down the stairs towards the kitchen.
"Sandy? Is that you?" Kirsten's voice called.
Sandy clenched his teeth, glancing down at the still sleeping child. His arm was really numb now. Instead of calling back a reply, Sandy hurried down the hall, away from the living room where Kirsten was, to one of the guest rooms.
"Sandy!" Kirsten demanded.
Sandy stopped and turned. Busted. Not that he'd expected to get away with stowing a kid in the house for a couple days, but he had hoped to get him to a bed before the fighting began.
Another glance at Ryan. Still sleeping. Sandy held a finger to his lips and gestured that he would just be a minute. Quickly he managed to find his way to the bed in the semi-darkness.
Beside him Kirsten pulled back the bed covers and nodded for Sandy to put him down. He did so and watched his wife pull the covers up to Ryan's shoulders. The boy slipped over on to his side, snuggling further in to the soft pillows and comforter. Silently they both watched the boy for a moment and, finally content, backed out of the room. Kirsten gently pulled the door until it was nearly closed and shot Sandy a look.
Explain. Now.
Sandy followed her retreating form to the kitchen, each step taking him closer to his own demise.
The Kirsten was nothing to be fooled around with.