Maybe It's Better This Way
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Even though I've written most of this really suggestions are still very welcome.
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Chapter 5: Acting Nineteen
The next few weeks passed excruciatingly slowly. Kirsten knew that the baby was growing at a great rate but it was imperceptible. Every minute that ticked past brought them away from the danger zone but time just didn't move fast enough. She longed for visible signs of pregnancy and the flutters inside her as the baby moved but these were a long way off. If it wasn't for the doctor's assurances she could almost believe this baby was an illusion and her constant sickness, fatigue and appetite all caused by something else.
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Some things were still the same; as of the moment she was still working full time and each morning she'd be there at the counter watching her boys with the same fond smile. But her coffee was now decaf, breakfast usually non-existent to try and limit the sickness later on and extra concealer applied beneath her eyes to hide the blue smudges that had settled there. Sandy's morning kisses were, if possible, more tender and his hand would always slide down to her waist, resting against the almost invisible rise of her stomach. Seth's complaints didn't deter them and even these had become less frequent as he resigned himself to the fact that seventeen years of complaint had failed to prevent the current circumstances. As for Ryan, he just liked to see his foster parents being affectionate; it was a far cry from the abusive, drunken fights he'd witnessed in his childhood.
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The biggest change was Ryan moving into the house. One evening, obviously at his wife's demand, Sandy broached the subject to a startled Ryan.
'B-but why?' he asked.
'You're family and family stay in the house,' Kirsten declared.
Seth smiled evilly, 'Except Aunt Hailey,' he put in.
'Yeah well, that's because…well because it's…'
'Hailey.' Sandy finished for her.
'Yeah,' Kirsten agreed, 'but Ryan's not Hailey so he can have a proper bedroom.'
Her second son looked up nervously, 'I really don't need…'
'Don't worry Ry,' Seth said with a knowledgeable air, 'mum's just hormonal.'
'I am not hormonal,' Kirsten said crossly, huffing as three sets of brows were raised in front of her. 'Fine, I am, a little. But that doesn't mean Ryan's not moving in. He should have been in the house months ago, I just never thought about it. I'm sorry Ryan.'
'Kirsten it's ok, I…'
'You don't want to?' she asked, her voice quavering.
'I didn't say that,' he said quickly, realising Kirsten was about to cry.
'I just thought…' she began, hurriedly wiping away the tears snaking down her cheeks. Damn hormones, Seth was right.
Ryan looked nervously at Sandy; he'd never meant to make Kirsten cry.
'Hormones,' Seth mouthed and received a sharp kick on the shin from his brother. 'Ow, that was mean, that was underhand…'
'No it's ok,' Kirsten cut in, 'Seth's right, as much as I hate to admit it. What I meant Ryan was would you move into the house? I want all my boys under one roof.'
He eyed her cautiously, weighing up her words. Meanwhile Seth was spouting advice.
'Say no, babies cry, a lot. They scream in the middle of the night, ruin fabulous dreams of Summer in her bikini…and then without it…' Seth's voice took on a dreamy tone before he suddenly realised what he was saying, coughed loudly and went bright red.
Both Sandy and Kirsten looked slightly sickened but had the sense not to comment; their son would only throw their regular displays of affection in their face. Then he would insist he had been scarred for life at an early age by their antics and declare that the whole reason they were having this conversation was the result of something he did not want to think about but was forced to come to terms with.
'As if you'll even wake up, you'd carry on sleeping if a freight train ran through the house.'
Seth appeared unperturbed by this revelation. 'Ah but I have it on trusted scientific authority that a baby's cries, which incidentally are ten times louder than a pneumatic drill, are of a particular resonance which infiltrate the conscious of a sleeper and wake them.' He stared round at his family with an owlish expression on his face, 'It's true; a special survival mechanism.'
'And what 'trusted scientific authority' was this?' His father asked suspiciously.
'Um…'
'I rest my case.'
'If he does say yes, can I move into the pool house?' Seth, unabashed, asked his parents.
'No.'
'Worth a try. Anyway, back to the issue at hand. What am I gonna do if you move in man? All those nights when the dream team thought I was playing video games in the pool house with you when I was actually…' Seth again realised this revelation was not a good idea and hastily changed tack, 'playing video games in the pool house with you.'
Ryan still hadn't said a word and Seth made a u-turn before his parents could register his last ramble.
'But this is actually pretty good, I mean, now I can wake you for emergency counselling sessions without even leaving the house.'
Ryan groaned, 'You said it was gonna be the baby that woke me up, now you're telling me it'll be you?'
'Well Captain Oats gets very grouchy if he doesn't get his full eight hours.'
'I get grouchy if I don't get my full eight hours,' Ryan muttered under his breath.
'Look Ryan, you don't have to decide now,' Sandy told him, ignoring the angry glance his wife flashed in his direction. 'This is a big thing and rather sudden so take your time. We want you in the house, want you to feel you belong but we understand if you'd prefer to stay in the pool house, have more privacy, a little distance.'
'I-I'd like to think about it, is that ok?'
'Yeah man, come on, we can make a list of pros and cons, rate them and calculate the ratio of positives to negatives,' Seth babbled excitedly.
'Seth,' Sandy said, his tone having the same effect as a restraining hand on his son's shoulder. 'Let Ryan think this through.'
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So Ryan thought it through. It occupied his thoughts for the rest of the night and most of the next day, much to Marissa's chagrin as it made her quiet boyfriend even more brooding than usual.
'So did you think?' Seth demanded that evening at dinner.
'Seth!' His parents chided in unison.
'It's ok,' Ryan said quietly. 'I have thought.'
'And?'
'Um, well if you really mean it, I'd kinda like to move in?'
'Ryan, of course we mean it,' his foster-father told him as Seth punched his arm excitedly and Kirsten swooped in to hug him. He returned both gestures, the first far more firmly that the other; he was painfully aware of Kirsten's precious, if somewhat minute bump and his track record with pregnant women wasn't great.
'You know what this means?' Kirsten asked, her face alight, 'We get to go shopping!'
Seth cackled delightedly at the look on his brother's face.
'I really don't need anything,' Ryan said quickly.
'Yes we do; furniture, curtains, paint, wallpaper…'
'I'm sure whatever's there now is fine.'
'Uh dude, have you ever been in the spare room next to mine?'
'I dunno.'
'Well it's pink.'
Kirsten got her shopping trip.
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It was another warm Californian evening, another worthy cause, another Newport party cleverly disguised as a charity event. Another excuse for the elite of Orange County's society to gossip and drink, another excuse for the kids to have a rave at someone's beach house.
Sandy was no stranger to excuses; he'd used every one under the sun to get out of such events over the years and he thought Kirsten's pregnancy was the perfect cover.
'Come on honey,' he argued, 'You know you don't want to spend another evening with Newpsies, wouldn't you rather stay here, make semolina (Kirsten's most recent craving) and let me massage your feet.'
'That's blackmail Sandy,' his wife told him, trying very hard not to think about how appealing his offer sounded. Mingling amidst the rich and fabulous (and stupid) all evening was going to be wearing. Kirsten might be rich but she wasn't feeling particularly fabulous at the moment; she hadn't reached the 'glowing' stage yet apparently stuck at 'tired, fractious and being-sick-ever-minute-of-the-day' and of course she certainly wasn't stupid.
'We have to go,' she insisted as she tied her husband's tie, 'or people will talk.'
'Let them talk.'
'Sandy. If we don't go it'll look suspicious, there'll be all sorts of rumours and someone, probably Julie, will put two and two together, get five and then the cat will be out of the bag.'
'You do talk nonsense sometimes.'
'Oh, I thought that was your speciality,' she teased, closing her eyes as he stroked her hair.
'You look tired.'
'That's because I am,' Kirsten snapped. 'Sorry…I shouldn't take feeling crappy out on you.'
'Don't go,' he urged.
This time he just received a 'look' as she headed out of their bedroom. She didn't need Newpsie gossip about her right now.
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'How're you feeling?' Sandy murmured into Kirsten's ear, ducking his head so his lips could press a kiss against her golden head as the danced together. She nestled against him, rolling her eyes, 'That's the fourth time you've asked in the space of five minutes, dancing does not count as over-exertion Sandy.'
He chuckled; knowing that the annoyance in her voice wasn't completely real; hormones. Kirsten smiled too but only for a moment, she suddenly didn't feel so good after all. This was just too ironic. The expensive dinner she'd eaten at this exotically themed event hadn't stayed down long and now her empty stomach; breakfast and lunch having been treated the same way, was making her feel a little dizzy. Before she could mention this to her husband however, she'd already fainted.
Sandy felt Kirsten slump against him and automatically tightened his arms around her, stopping her falling to the ground. 'Kirsten?' he asked futilely. He struggled for a moment but managed to lift her limp body into his arms and hurried off the dance floor, followed by wide-eyed stares and hushed whispers.
'Looks like someone overdid it on the cocktails,' one of the Newpsies commented to another.
'She probably had a few before she came,' the woman replied cattily.
'It just goes to show…' said another. Julie, who was sat within earshot, didn't wait to hear the rest of this vicious slander, standing up and stalking towards the balcony where Sandy had carried Kirsten. She thought for a moment about retorting to the idle gossip she'd overheard with a few choice observations of her own. Like the fact that Kirsten Cohen hadn't touched a drink all evening. But she decided against it; if her own suspicions were correct, and having heard Kirsten being sick at the office for the past few weeks she guessed they were, Kirsten wouldn't want the knowledge spreading. It was a well-known fact in Orange County that the fastest way to have everyone informed was to tell a Newpsie.
Julie was a die-hard Newpsie, but she was also a good friend.
Outside she found Sandy bent over his wife who was laid out on a pool chair, still unconscious. She handed him a glass of water and he took it gratefully, sprinkling water onto Kirsten's pale face. She came round a moment later, breathing heavily and her eyes flicking from Sandy to Julie to the night sky above her apparently confused. 'You fainted honey,' Sandy told her gently, 'I asked if you were okay and then you go faint on me. You have to tell me when something's wrong.'
'Sorry,' she whispered in reply, closing her eyes again. Julie glanced at the man next to her whose face still wore a terribly anxious expression, more anxious than necessary for a little fainting fit on an incredibly humid evening for even California. 'She's pregnant isn't she?' she ventured quietly. Sandy Cohen looked startled but nodded,
'At thirty nine and still acting like she's nineteen.'
Kirsten flicked one eye open and directed a glare at her husband that was no less meaningful for its single status. Sandy ignored it, handing her the glass of water and instructing her to drink it. Julie turned to go but Kirsten caught her arm.
'Julie…?'
She knew what Kirsten was going to say so pre-empted her, 'I won't say anything,' she promised, suddenly realising how hard things must be for Kirsten sometimes; a very private person trapped in this very public society.
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Yeah I know everyone makes Ryan move into the spare room and its pink…but I wanted to do it! Hope my version has some intrinsic entertainment value! Yay – summer hols! To celebrate I have written three sections today. This is one of them and the other two are later on! Enjoy it and enjoy your summer although it will be over by the time this gets posted and a new one will be starting! Ah well enjoy your day, remember the summer and enjoy the new one. AND I THINK THE DAMN COMPUTER HAS LOST SOME OF THE SECTIONS. NOOO!
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What if I begged…grovelled…maybe cajoled?
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