Chapter Eighteen

Lying in bed, his arms wrapped tightly around Marissa, Ryan let his eyes stray from the sunrise that was peeking in through the sheers on their bedroom window to the clock as the early morning minutes ticked by peacefully, the house still silent as he was the only one awake. This was his favorite moment of the day: first light. He was awake before the alarm went off every day, as if his body knew that he wanted Marissa to be able to sleep through it for as long as she could, and he would turn it off before a sound could be made, holding her to him closely, never wanting to let go, as he went over the things he had to do that day. While he thought, he let his eyes roam her body, a body that was already, only two months after giving birth, practically perfect again. His nose would take in her very unique scent of lavender, baby lotion, and rose petals; to Ryan it was the best aroma in the world, and his fingers would gently caress her naked skin; its silky smooth quality lulling him into peaceful tranquility.

Eventually, however, he would have to pull himself away from her to start their routine. Because she took the middle of the night feeding at two, he would be up by six to feed Loren again and get the boys ready for school while she slept in. Although she could, for now, remain in bed until well after he left for work and had put Loren in her bassinette in their room for her morning nap, she would be starting back to work the next week and every extra hour of rest that he could give her would be essential. She was eager to return to their normal lives, but he knew she would have a hard time actually doing it. The past two months, with her three children by her side all the time, had been magical for Marissa.

So, just as his routine dictated, Ryan carefully reached across Marissa's body to turn off the alarm clock and slipped out of bed, carelessly throwing on the pajamas he had discarded the night before after the boys were asleep. Shutting the door behind him softly, he tiptoed down the hall to the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Loren wasn't awake yet, but she would be in any minute, hungry for her bottle. Grabbing an already made bottle from the fridge, for Marissa would pump every night; he warmed it in the microwave before taking the stairs quickly to feed his daughter.

This, being alone with Loren every morning, feeding her, changing her for the day, just made his early mornings even better. As Ryan walked into the nursery, painted in purple with a butterfly theme because Marissa thought pink was too cliché, he was surprised to see that his daughter was already awake, merely laying in the bassinette they kept in this room staring up at him expectantly, eyes still soft with sleep, face dimpled and chubby, her hands clutched in tiny fists. Picking her up, he cradled her delicately in his arms, settling down into an antique rocking chair Marissa had placed in the room.

Eagerly, her little mouthed attached to the bottle quickly, sucking greedily, her gulping sounds making Ryan smile to himself. As she closed her eyes in contentment, he relaxed into the chair, his eyes never straying from her beautiful face.

"Do you know what I was thinking about this morning, Loren," he asked her softly, a bemused smile across his lips. "I was thinking about how much I love the mornings, waking up with your Mommy in my arms, taking care of you, getting your brothers ready for school." Laughing at himself quietly, he continued. "If someone would have told me two years ago that this would be my life, I wouldn't have believed them, but now, I couldn't even imagine my life without the four of you in it." Leaning down, he kissed her forehead and smiled once again before whispering to her. "At this point, the four of you are my life."

They, father and daughter, sat together united in tranquility and solitude, sunlight transforming the room into a fairy's forest when a small, timid voice broke through the silence. "Ryan," Garrett asked in a murmur, "do you mind if I….you know….I mean if it's okay with you…."

"Garrett," Ryan admonished gently, chuckling at the boy's shyness, "just ask me what you want. I'm sure I won't mind."

"It's just that….um…I'd really like to feed Loren if it's okay. Mommy was always nervous before because she said her head was still too soft, but I've been watching you both feed her and I think I can do it."

"You're her big brother," Ryan responded, standing up while talking, the bottle still securely placed in Loren's mouth. "Of course you can feed her. Now, why don't you sit down in the rocker and I'll hand her to you once you get situated."

As soon as he had permission, a large grin transformed Garrett's face as he slid into the chair talking the entire time. "I can't wait for my first chance to take something into school for show and tell, because I'm going to take Loren in."

Handing the little girl to her eager brother, Ryan sat down in front of them on the ottoman, marveling even at how small his daughter looked in a child's arms. "Well I'm sure most of the kids in your class have seen a baby before, and," he added kindly, "they probably have little sisters of their own."

"Oh, I know that, but we're supposed to bring in something that reminds us of our summer vacation. Plus," Garrett continued thoughtfully, his youthful eyes casting their way towards Ryan's, "no one's sister's as cool or as cute as Loren."

Grinning, Ryan said, "I couldn't agree with you more, buddy." Proudly, he beamed, "I happen to think she's the most adorable baby ever."

Breaking eye contact, the smile fading from his face, Garrett looked down at his baby sister. Although he did not say anything, Ryan knew that something was wrong, but, knowing that the young boy would speak when he was ready, he just sat back and watched the two siblings interact. Finally, Garrett spoke up. "I wish you would have been around when me and Cooper were babies." Before Ryan could respond, he pushed on. "I never really said anything to mom, but I remember Cooper's third birthday party. It was just us, Mom, Cooper, and me, and when he blew out his candles on the cake, he looked up and started to cry. When Mommy picked him up and hugged him, she asked him what was wrong. He told her he didn't get what he wanted for his birthday. She was upset, because she thought she had forgotten something he had asked for, but she never knew that we had the same birthday wish every year. We asked for a Dad." Sniffling, he looked back up at the man in front of him, at the man who meant so much to him with a sad smile on his face, the tears evident in his eyes. "I'm glad that Loren has a Daddy who loves her."

Ryan didn't know what to say. What could you say to something like that, something so heartbreakingly sad? It made him angry, what Garrett had told him, angry at Gerry, yet again, for how much he had hurt his two children, two little, innocent boys, and for making Marissa, essentially, a single parent; yet, at the same time, it made him thankful that he had met the three of them, that fate had brought him to their perfectly functional and adequate kitchen to remodel and that Garrett had enough faith in him to realize that he would always be there for his daughter. Those ten little words, 'I'm glad that Loren has a Daddy who loves her,' meant more to Ryan than he could express…even if he had the speaking capability to formulate the right words. Instead, he stood up and kissed Garrett's head, cradling him into his side for an easy, delicate hug because he was still feeding the baby.

"I'm always going to be here," Ryan finally spoke up, "and not just for your Mom and for Loren, but for you and Cooper, too. You're my kids just as much as Loren is and you always will be. We're a family now. Families stick together."

Sighing contentedly, Garrett merely nodded his head at Ryan. Like always, no words were needed between them, but their moment was interrupted by someone who, unlike Ryan and Garrett, was very fond of words: Cooper.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he trudged into the nursery with his blanket still wrapped around his small frame. "What's going on," he asked, not waiting for a response before he kept talking. "How come Garrett's allowed to feed Loren and I'm not allowed, and why is he already up? Is breakfast ready?"

Motioning for Cooper to join them, Ryan started answering his plethora of questions. "Garrett's feeding Loren because he asked and I said it was okay. If you want to," Ryan amended quickly before the younger boy could object, "you can have your turn tomorrow morning."

"What about tonight," Cooper asked inquisitively. "I'm always tired in the morning, and I don't want to have to get up early just to feed her."

Rolling his eyes, Ryan just nodded his head to show that the young boy's suggestion was fine. "As for why Garrett was up early," he continued, "I don't know. Why don't you ask him while you two get ready for school? Breakfast is not ready yet, but I'll make it in a few minutes after I burp and change Loren," Ryan said as he picked up his daughter from Garrett's arms. As the two boys ran out of the nursery towards their own bedrooms, he called after them, "and make sure you wear the clothes your Mom picked out for you last night." Lowering his voice, he whispered playfully to the full, little girl in his arms, "because we don't want a mad Mommy, do we?" He would swear that she laughed with him.

With a freshly changed and dressed, happy little girl cradled in his left arm, her carrier in his right, Ryan made his way down to the kitchen to make breakfast. Placing Loren in the seat and buckling her in just for safety, he set to work, his eye constantly straying towards his daughter to check to make sure she was okay….which she was. She just sat there, watching his every move, silent and happy. First, he put coffee on for Marissa and him and then poured each boy a glass of orange juice. Suddenly, disturbing the peace and quiet, Cooper ran into the room.

"Can we have French toast this morning, Ryan," he asked breathlessly, moving to drink down his orange juice in one quick gulp.

So that's where Loren gets her greedy drinking habits, Ryan chuckled to himself before responding. "French toast sounds good to me, but Cooper," he only continued when the little boy met his eye, "did you forget to do something when you were getting ready….like brush your hair?"

Remembering the missed step in his grooming process as if he'd never even heard of the idea before, he said, "Oh….yeah, but it really doesn't matter. I like it like this."

"I bet you do," Ryan snorted. "Your mother doesn't, however, so get those lazy bones up those stairs and brush your hair before she comes down here, sees you, and takes her own hair brush to me…and I don't mean on my hair."

Cooper's laughter was followed by hushed conversation between the two brothers, and then Garrett arrived in the room with Ryan and his sister, impeccably dressed, neat and orderly, hair combed and tamed. "What's for breakfast, Ryan?"

"French toast, Cooper requested it and it sounded good to me, too."

Nodding his head to show his approval for the meal, he responded, "Mom likes it, too. Can I help?"

"Sure can," Ryan agreed, signaling for the young boy to put an apron on to cover his school clothes despite his silent protests with his objecting eyes and pouting lips. "While I get the pan ready, why don't you go and get me the supplies from the fridge?"

Cooking together, Cooper joining in to help after brushing his hair, the three Atwood-Carnahan boys passed the early morning just like they always did now, laughing and smiling, the three them all keeping an eye on the little girl slobbering away in her carrier who controlled their every whim.

An hour later, the boys were fed, packed, and off to school on the bus, something they still found to be a novelty because of their privileged, private school background. Both Ryan and Marissa knew that would wear off sooner rather than later unfortunately. Loren had fallen back to sleep, tucked in securely in her bassinette in her parent's bedroom, totally oblivious to those around her and what they were doing….which was completely innocent.

After putting his daughter down for her morning nap, Ryan had made his way back downstairs to make Marissa's breakfast, carrying it up for her on a tray so she could eat in bed. As if she could sense his presence….or perhaps smell the food, Marissa rolled over to greet him just as he and the tray walked through the door. Smiling brightly, she waited for him to put the food down before nodding towards her robe.

"I prefer you without," Ryan teased her, handing her the thin silk fabric anyway.

"Those days are over with, Daddy," she taunted him back, tantalizing him as she let the sheet fall from her chest as she slipped the robe on. "We are not traumatizing our daughter by having her wake up to see her parents naked….in their bed….doing things."

Handing her the tray, he sat down beside her, newspaper in hand as had been their custom since Marissa had come home from the hospital with Loren. Both too impatient to wait for the other to read the paper, they had decided to read it together every morning before Ryan went to work. "It's not like she'd even realize what she's seeing," Ryan responded, taking the sports page and handing Marissa the rest of the paper. "Besides, she's fed, changed, and out like a light. We have plenty of time to….do things as you put it."

"And what about work?"

"I work for myself," Ryan shot back instantly, enjoying their playful banter. "I decide when and if I go to work."

"Actually, I think I decide that," she mocked him only to receive a glare followed quickly by a bright smile. "Speaking of work, how soon do you have to leave," she asked, her tone suddenly depressed and withdrawn.

"Soon."

Surprising Ryan, she put her tray of food on the ground and snuggled into his arms, pulling him closely to her. "I can eat that anytime," Marissa explained, knowing he would be confused. "And right now I just want to enjoy you while you're still here."

"I can do that," Ryan said kissing her softly. Not wanting her to focus on the loneliness she suffered with during the day, he kept talking. "What do you and Loren have planned for the day?"

"Nothing exciting, just errands and cleaning," she answered, playing with his hand. "I have to run to the store and pick up some food for dinner this week. Then I think we'll try to get caught up on the laundry so maybe we could do something fun tomorrow….like work out in the gardens." Laughing, she added, "I have many tricks of the gardening trade to teach her, so we better start now."

"And it will be good to have all the yard work caught up before you go back to work next week," Ryan pointed out not 100 innocently. He wanted to gauge what her reaction would be to having to leave Loren during the day, because he did not think it would be easy for her. The silence that pervaded the room after he brought up the hospital and her job there were all the proof he needed to let him know he was right. "It'll be good for you, to go back to work. You'll be able to make some friends, get out, talk to people older than two month olds while I'm at work and the boys are in school…..right?"

Sighing, she responded, "I know you're right," and he could here her sniffling back her tears, "but it's easier said than done. I mean, what are we going to do with Loren? I've never left my children with anyone else, especially not when they're two months old. What if something goes wrong? What if they don't know what toys she likes, what songs she likes us to sing to her when she goes to sleep, that she likes people to talk to her?"

"Nothing will go wrong," he reassured, soothing her with the gentle touch of his hands in her hair, "and we'll tell them everything they'll need to know, make lists if we have to."

"But what about breast feeding," she continued to argue. "I can't go all day without either nursing or pumping, which means I'll either have to dump it out or store in the on-call room's fridge, and who knows what will happen to it there, and I'm not ready to stop nursing yet and switch to formula."

He knew she would keep talking, keep worrying, keep fretting over things that neither of them could change. "If you don't want to go back to work, just say so. We'll make it work on just my income if we have to."

"No," she dismissed, "we're not doing that. I'm not letting you do that. We would never see you, you'd become stressed, rundown, tired, and I can't handle that. I need you here with me and healthy and happy as much as I can get you; the boys…and Loren do as well. If it means I have to deal with a little bit of adjustment, then I'll just suck it up and accept it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," she smiled up at him, "and I don't want to hear any more talk about you taking the entire burden of supporting our family on your own shoulders. We made this family together, so we're going to make it work together, too. Besides, I'm just overreacting again. We'll figure something out. I know it."

Ryan did, too. No matter what, he would find someway to make sure Marissa was comfortable going back to work the next week and that Loren would have reliable care givers. Everything was finally going right for them. Nothing could get in their way now. Turning Marissa around in his arms, his mouth sought hers in an embrace of comfort, of trust, of love before he pulled away, got out of bed, kissed his daughter goodbye, and then made his way out their bedroom door to go to work with a wave towards Marissa, a smile on his face, and his mind already thinking of ways he could fix Marissa's insecurities about leaving their newborn daughter when she went back to her job and her studies at the hospital.

Arms full, Marissa, with Loren, Loren's carrier, the diaper bag, Marissa's work bag, and her purse, made her way from her SUV to the front door, trying to figure out how she was going to open the front door without having to put everything down on the ground first. Ryan had been right; everything had worked out for them. It turned out that there was a daycare service at the hospital. Why no one had bothered to tell her this before she went on maternity leave, she did not know, but Ryan had found out about it and told her. So, Loren was always close to her if something went wrong. She visited her on her lunch break to feed and play with her, and, if they ever needed anything, all they had to do was page her. A mother couldn't ask for more.

However, as she got closer to the door, she noticed that it was slightly ajar. The boys were at football practice, Ryan wasn't home, and she knew she had carefully locked the door that morning, which meant that someone was in the house. Scared, she scrambled back to the car, unlocked it, and put Loren inside, dropping her bags beside it, and running around to the back of the vehicle to get a baseball bat out. Oh my god, she thought to herself, what if the boys didn't play sports? Then what would I do? But there was no time to ponder the questions as she crept as quietly as she could back to the house, pushing the door open, bat poised to strike anyone or anything that threatened her and her family's safety.

Nothing in the house seemed disturbed as she made her way into the entry and then into the living room. Must be upstairs, Marissa presumed, moving towards the stairs, but as soon as she put her foot down on the first riser, a voice rang out in the house making her blood turn to ice. How can they be here? Why are they here? I can't believe they broke in!

"Marissa," the shrill, harping voice trilled throughout the entire house. "What ever happened to that amazing espresso machine you had when you lived in Newport? I'm dying for some coffee, but there is no way I'm drinking regular. People just….don't do that now."

Lowering the baseball bat, Marissa dejectedly walked to the kitchen where her mother was inevitably waiting to tear a new shred into her self-esteem and pride. "We fought over custody of the boys, Mom, not trivial appliances. If you want an espresso that bad, you're going to have to drive to a café."

"Fine," Julie sighed exasperatedly, "I'll take a diet coke with lemon then."

"We don't drink pop," Marissa answered her, continuing to give her the beverage options before Julie could ask for something else outrageous or decadent. "There's regular coffee as you've already determined, water, orange juice, milk, and breast milk. That's it."

"Oh, that's right, you pushed the little bastard out," Marissa's mother responded snidely. "Boy or girl?"

"Girl… a girl who is out in the locked car because I thought someone was robbing us. What are you doing here," Marissa asked confused and annoyed, "and how the hell did you get into my house?"

Dismissing her daughter's concerns with a wave of her finely manicured hand, Julie explained, "I'm here because can't a mother come to visit her daughter, and I got in by picking the lock. How else?" Marissa was leaving that one alone. There was no way she wanted to know why or how Julie had come to learn how to pick a lock, but she made a mental note to herself to tell Ryan to install high tech locks, ones that would be almost impossible for the red headed lock expert to break into. Only the sound of Julie's voice brought her back to the present situation developing in her kitchen. "And about this daughter you now have, let me guess, you named her Julie," the smug woman mocked.

"Fat chance that will ever happen," Marissa answered her, the disdain present in her voice.

"Will ever happen," Julie pressed. "Does that mean you might have even more children with this….piece of poor white trash you're living with? Marissa, please, one mistake we could deal with, fix, make disappear by sending to boarding school, but a whole flock is going to be another story."

"Not might, Mother, we are having more children," Marissa answered. Walking outside to retrieve her daughter and her bags, she continued. "And what are you talking about, fix…make disappear….boarding school?"

"Marissa, please, this is just a phase, another form of rebellion you're using to hurt me. I get it, and it's okay; we can get passed it just as soon as you come to her senses. We'll pack up, give Gerry the boys, put this latest thing…."

No, not thing, not bastard, not burden," Marissa interrupted, "she's my daughter. She has a name, Loren Shae Atwood, and you're not going to have a damn thing to do with her."

"Loren Shae," Julie complained, "could you pick anything more peasant like, really? And as for letting her take that man's last name….well, we'll just have to change it legally with the courts. She can take your maiden name. Cooper is much more respectable than Atwood, even if your father was a waste of human space."

"That's it," Marissa exploded, putting Loren's seat down inside of the house along with the bags before pushing Julie back out the door and closing it softly behind her so her daughter would not hear what she was about to say. "You have been here five minutes and I cannot handle any more of you. You're leaving, now, and you will never set foot near me or my children again, do you understand me?" Before Julie could answer, she just pushed on. "You will have no say in how many children I have, who I have them with, what I name them, or their futures. You will not insult Ryan either. He is the father of my children, not just Loren but Garrett and Cooper as well, and he is my fiancé, the man I am going to marry, the man I love, the man I'm going to love and spend the rest of my life with."

"Then you're a fool, Marissa," Julie countered, her face the picture of indignity, pity, and wrath. "You could have had everything. The house, the cars, the vacations, the jewelry, the clothes, the lifestyle, everything we have dreamed of since you were a little girl, and you threw it away, for what, for some good sex? What do you know about this man…Ryan Atwood? Do you know his family, his background, his history? What if it's all a lie; what if he's not who he seems to be? Have you ever thought of that? Don't worry, I'm done with you. I won't be coming back. Fool," she repeated one last time, slowly, over her shoulder as she moved towards the rental car she had parked down the street.

"I'd rather be love's fool than your daughter," Marissa said simply with a shrug of her shoulders. With that, she walked away, turning her back on her mother for the last time and went into the house she now shared with her fiancé, a man she had met just fifteen months before, a man she had a child with, a man….she knew nothing about she realized as she slumped against the closed door. It doesn't matter that you don't know that much about his life before you met him, Marissa tried to reason with herself. You know the man he is now. He's….Ryan. But no matter what she told herself, the nagging voice in the back of her mind would not go away, a voice that sounded eerily like her Mother's, as she and Loren went about the house getting dinner ready and waiting for Garrett, Cooper,…..and Ryan…..to come home.