Maybe It's Better This Way
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LOOK WHO THE HELL IT IS!
I'm posting this now because I'm gonna be away this weekend and then I have lots of new stuff to sort into chapter 11!
Well I'm back, did you survive without me? First of all the HUGEST thank you for all the reviews! We made it to 100 CONGRATULATIONS! And so many long ones, helpful ones, amusing ones! I guess my bugging you paid off. I'll be quieter now! A lot of you are worried about the Kandy, I can't deny it…there will be more angst but I reassure you I believe in the strength of the Kandy love. I just think that Kirsten would feel numb and push even Sandy away. Of course that's just my opinion but you wouldn't like it if I made them happy too quick!
Enough of me…on with show!
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Chapter 10: One to Ten
On Monday morning the three Cohen men ranged about the kitchen were taken aback when Kirsten breezed in, fully dressed, hair and make up done and a false smile pasted on her face.
'Mom?' Seth asked puzzlement evident in his voice.
Ryan paused, a spoonful of cereal half-way to his mouth and glanced quickly at Sandy whose head had shot up at his son's words.
'Kirsten…' he began.
'Don't say it Sandy,'
'But mom...' her son cut in.
'Or either of you,' she said crossly, feeling Ryan's stricken gaze as clearly as she heard Seth's words. 'I'm not sick, I'm not an invalid and I am not staying home.'
'Kirsten…' Sandy repeated.
'I am going to work Sandy, so move and let me get to the coffee.'
'Gonna be late for school,' Ryan muttered, hurriedly stashing his bowl in the dishwasher.
'What? We've got like…oh yeah, gotta go,' Seth agreed seeing Ryan's 'shut-up-and-agree-so-we-can-get-out-of-here' look, 'parental units, we'll see you tonight.'
'Bye boys,' and 'have a good day,' they said, not missing a beat of their argument.
'Do you want me to call your father?' Sandy threatened once their sons had gone.
'Huh?'
'I'm perfectly capable of calling a favour in return; I bail him out, he bans you from work for the next month, seems like fair trade to me. And right now he's not gonna deny me anything.'
'You wouldn't.'
'Watch me,' he said, picking up the phone and scrolling down for Caleb's number. His finger hovered over the call button, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth.
'Fine!' Kirsten huffed and folded her arms across her chest, refusing to return the kiss Sandy pressed against her pouting lips.
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'So, what do you want to do today?' Sandy asked a while later, wandering into their bedroom. Now the boys had left and she knew she didn't have to go into work and play the part of 'Kirsten Nichol Cohen' perfect wife/mother/daughter/fashion icon/social queen, Kirsten dropped the act. She sat wearily on their large bed, rubbing the thousand-thread count sheets between her fingers like a child with a nervous habit. Gone was the phoney, smiling, technicolor Kirsten and Sandy was left with the quiet, melancholy woman he was struggling to help.
'You don't have to baby-sit me,' she told him, unable to stop the resentment creeping into her tones.
'I'm not,' he said patiently, sitting down next to her 'I simply thought I'd spend a day with my beautiful wife.' Kirsten opened her mouth to argue but Sandy cut in, 'I've already cancelled my appointments so you can't stop me,' he told her, happily tugging off his tie.
She squeezed his hand gently and let him press his lips against her cold cheek. If circumstances were different she would never have been so passive; moments alone were so rare they were used to making the most of them. As it was she simply rested lethargically against Sandy and let him circle his arms around her.
'You tired baby?' he asked softly, unconscious of his choice of word. Kirsten stiffened and he immediately realised. 'Oh God I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' he murmured rubbing her arm comfortingly. She shook her head and pulled away, 'Doesn't mater, I'm gonna…' Sandy watched her trail over to the glass door and stare out, never finishing her sentence. One of the rare California rainstorms had appeared, water cascading down the windows, the sky heavy with more to come. Kirsten slowly opened the door and stepped out. Again, Sandy let her go; even though it was cold out there and within minutes she was wet through. She stood on the patio and let the rain beat down; ruining the expensive clothes she was wearing, plastering her hair to her head and soaking her skin. But as much as the water washed her, she didn't feel cleansed and the rivers down her face were not salty. When Sandy could see her visibly shivering he hurried out and dragged her back inside. She stood childlike, dripping on the floor as he helped her out of the sodden clothes, wrapping her in her robe before going to run a hot bath. Her dazed silence was exasperating but he forced himself to keep calm. The last thing he wanted was a row.
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Marissa was no stranger to thinking odd thoughts and one of the weirdest was that if her dad had married Kirsten she wouldn't exist. Or that some other version of herself would be their child. She was very like Kirsten she'd once decided and was never sure how much of a good thing this was. They'd both had apparently picture-perfect childhoods; wealthy parents, huge houses, everything they could ever want, plagued only by their younger sisters. They'd both been queens at school; top grades, social chair, lead debutante. Good looks, fashionable clothes, strings of friends and admirers, cardboard cut-out boyfriends that their parents approved of and then they'd found someone different, someone special that their parents certainly didn't approve of. But the similarities went further than face value; both of them had been desperately unhappy.
Through her dad's misty-eyed recollections she'd seen the 'perfect' life Kirsten Nichol had lead but beneath the rose-tint she discovered the other Kirsten. The one who was angry at her parents, who drank and partied just like Marissa used to. The girl whose rebellion consisted of leaving for Berkeley rather than overdosing in TJ.
Now she was the Queen of Newport and universally acknowledged as 'perfect' once again. Marissa knew perfect didn't exist. People thought she was when she wasn't and neither was Kirsten.
She knew Kirsten drank; everyone in Newport drank but it wasn't the same. Kirsten drank like Marissa did. They both turned to alcohol when things went wrong. She didn't think anyone else noticed, it wasn't exactly blatantly obvious, but she saw it because she knew what to look for. She was used to playing the same hiding game.
So when Marissa heard Ryan's news she knew what Kirsten would want to do. In the same position it would be what she'd do. Vodka could make everything appear perfect. Numb and perfect. That was the only way perfect existed.
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'Do you want to talk honey?' he asked after she was warm and dressed again.
'No,'
'You know I think we need to.'
'I don't want to talk about it, can I speak more plainly?'
'But…'
'Just go away Sandy,' her voice was quiet but had an edge to it.
He didn't move.
'Please, leave me alone.' Her eyes flashed as he continued to stand there, 'Why can't you leave me alone?'
'Sweetheart…?'
'Leave. Me. Alone.'
'Why can't you talk to me?'
'Because I can't. This is my problem, my fault and I'm trying to deal with it, alone.'
'This is not your fault and you don't have to do this alone.'
'Yes I do,' she was angry now, 'This is nothing to do with you.'
The heated words registered in his head and Sandy faltered, his face a mixture of confusion and frustration. 'Kirsten!' He felt his own temper rising, 'This has everything to do with me. She was my baby as well, I care, I'm dealing too, but it doesn't have to be like this,' he reached out a tentative hand.
Kirsten tore herself away, 'DON'T touch me.'
She stumbled blindly towards the door.
'Don't do it Kirsten,' Sandy appealed, 'Please, please? We can work this out, together. But I need you and I need you sober.'
He watched as his wife froze in the doorway.
'How come you think that's what I'm gonna do?'
Sandy almost smiled, 'Because I know you Kirsten; Merlot for thanksgiving, Chardonnay at Christmukah, champagne with the Newpsies, vodka when things get really bad. If you have one glass, you have ten.'
'Have you quite finished cataloguing my alcohol intake?' she asked bitterly.
'I'm not judging you; I'm just saying I know, what I don't know is why.'
'It doesn't matter.'
'Don't you think it bothers me that you're not happy? That you drink yourself into a stupor when things go wrong? That alcohol can comfort you better than I can?
To be honest it kills me, I'm your husband but I can't do anything. The bottle's your support, not me.'
Kirsten tense frame began to tremble and Sandy hesitated for only a moment before moving behind her, 'I'm here, I'm always here. So please, can we try without it?'
'I-I don't know,' she choked, stumbling to continue as she felt rather than saw the hurt and disappointment flood his face, 'it's not you. It's not that you're not enough, it's me. I don't know whether I am.'
Sandy heaved a shuddering sigh, 'You are sweetheart, you're the most fantastic, talented, amazing, gifted, exceptional, wonderful, intelligent, beautiful woman,' he told her, deciding there just weren't enough superlatives to describe his wife. 'You can do this, we can do this. You're more than enough, you have so much, it's the drink that makes you think otherwise. You're stronger without it I promise. You don't have to do this yourself, alone, let us help, rely on me. I have far pleasanter side affects than vodka,' he paused for breath after this long speech, letting his tall frame sag slightly. 'For once Kirsten, let yourself be helped.'
She swallowed, 'Okay.'
He expected tears as she turned round and huddled in his arms, not the weary face and doleful apology.
'I'm sorry Sandy. God, I love you. Imagine how much of a wreck I'd be without you.'
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AN. That last section was written so long ago. This is the AN from the time:
"Just seen the preview for 'The Dearly Beloved' and I am soooo excited. OMG, OMG, OMG! I can't WAIT! Ok calm! Well, I was really impressed, and upset by the bit with Sandy and Kirsten. Brilliant acting but nooooooo they can't do this to Kandy! So following that I thought I'd try a confrontational scene between them but it hasn't really turned out how I wanted."
Hence the reason I don't feel it's up to my usual standard.
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