OC Fic : Shiny Happy People (1/1)
Title : Shiny Happy People
Author : Helen C.
Rating : G
Summary : Some glimpses into the Cohens+1 lives after (or during, depending on how you want to look at it) the finale.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN. Many thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this and to fredsmith518, who totally inspired me to write this fic.
Shiny Happy People
Helen C.
2007
"So, kid, how is it going so far?" Sandy asked, taking a seat across Ryan, the food already laid out on the table. Hamburgers, fries and soda; fat and calories all at once-Kirsten would probably have a lot to say about what they were eating, but damn it, they were guys and they needed the energy. That was Ryan's story, and he was sticking to it.
Ryan picked up a French fry and waved it at Sandy, smiling. "So, that's why you wanted to see me? To grill me?"
"I never need an excuse to see you," Sandy retorted. "But yes, Kirsten and I thought it was time for a check... She's tackling Seth later today."
Ryan took a sip from his soda to hide a smirk. "Did you draw straws?"
Seth had called him three times already, and Ryan had barely been able to get a word edgewise given how fast Seth had prattled on, and on, and on. So far, a week on the East Coast hadn't changed Seth an iota. Ryan wondered whether another four years were going to make a difference.
It couldn't be easy for his friend. Seth had never dealt well with being alone, and for all his thirst for independence, this was his first real try to make a life for himself, far from his parents.
"We did, actually," Sandy replied. He was dressed casually, in what he called his "professor attire"-shirt and jeans, no tie. He kept saying that being away from all that Newport Armani was a relief, and Ryan could empathize. He didn't miss the designer jeans crowd either.
Sandy seemed to be breathing again since he had settled back in Berkeley; Ryan couldn't remember ever seeing him so relaxed and laid back. Or maybe it was fatherhood, giving him a second youth? Whatever the reason, Sandy and Kirsten looked and behaved like newlyweds all over again.
Ryan had refrained from saying so to Seth. He knew what his friend's reaction would be-a hearty "ew!", probably followed by some variation of the scarred-for-life speech. Ryan would have agreed on the general principle (he didn't want to know anything about Sandy and Kirsten's private life, ever), but seeing them so happy made him feel even more glad he had followed his impulse and tried to buy back their old house. And of course, there was the added benefit of having them close; at eighteen, he probably should have strived for independence like Seth did, but frankly, he didn't think he was ready for a long-distance relationship with the Cohens just yet.
Sandy was watching him, waiting for his reaction, so Ryan asked, "Who lost?"
Sandy chuckled easily. "Take a guess."
Ryan smiled but didn't reply, knowing full well that the drawing straws thing was pure invention-just a way to get the conversation rolling before Sandy got to what he really wanted to ask.
"And don't think I didn't notice how you managed to avoid replying to my question," Sandy added.
Ryan rolled his eyes elaborately, wondering how he could possibly explain what it was like to be here. He felt alarmingly out of his depth, but at the same time, he had never felt more at ease anywhere. Maybe it was because no one here knew anything about him or his past. No one was judging him on what they thought they knew about him; no one was expecting him to screw up (well, no one but himself, and less so these days). He was enjoying his classes so far, and the few people he had interacted with had been interesting and about as awe-struck as he was.
He had thought he would feel weird and out of place, being the first Atwood to attend college, but at least three other people in his chemistry class had blue collar parents, and he had seen several others look around with wide eyes and incredulous smiles.
By the time midterms came, Ryan was sure that the feeling of contentment would fade and be replaced by frustration and weariness, but for now, he was determined to enjoy himself.
"I haven't gotten lost today, yet," he said. It was a running joke that all the freshmen needed a map of the campus for the first few weeks, and he knew that Sandy would be able to read between the lines.
"Ah, yes." Sandy took a bite off his hamburger, looking around affectionately. "I remember when I first got here. I was terrified."
So was I, Ryan thought, but that wasn't true. Terrified had been on the side of that road, with Marissa dying in his arms. Terrified had been going home in Chino and finding his mother gone. Here... He was worried of failing, of having to start over again in a foreign town, he was worried that people would think he wasn't entitled to this.
It wasn't being terrified, though.
"And then," Sandy went on, "I met all these people who came from different backgrounds-some wealthy, some even poorer than I was, and I realized that this was a chance to see the world without travelling."
Ryan nodded, thinking about his roommate, born and raised in Alabama, and the guy across the hallway, who came from Chicago, and the German student who was here on a scholarship.
"In some ways, these were the best days of my life," Sandy added.
Ryan smiled at the unspoken, "I hope you'll enjoy yourself as much as I do."
Then, because they were guys and heavy discussions weren't something Ryan was totally comfortable with, he asked, "So, how is Sophie doing?" confident that it would keep them occupied until well after they were done eating.
*
2008
"Seth called yesterday," Ryan said, glaring at his slice of pizza as if it was responsible for the situation.
Sandy grimaced, thinking, Uh oh... His son had decided that Ryan needed an intervention so he'd "get back on the market," after his recent (and rather messy) break-up with Taylor. Long distance relationships were hard to maintain, and Sandy suspected it must have been even harder with someone like Ryan-visual clues were so often necessary to hear everything Ryan was saying... or failing to say.
"What did he want?" he asked, hoping that Seth had had a modicum of tact.
"Same as usual. Wanted to know when I was going to meet a nice girl and settle down." He met Sandy's gaze, adding, "And yes, he used those exact words."
Sandy tried not to laugh at Seth's particular brand of bluntness. College hadn't changed that side of him yet.
"He sounds like..." Ryan trailed off, his cheeks growing pink, and poked at a bit of tomato with his fork.
"Like a father?" Sandy gave up the fight and laughed. "Well, we both know that deep inside Seth lives the heart and soul of an eighty year old."
He cheered inwardly when Ryan grinned, either because he remembered Miami or Seth and Summer's "old married couple" routine.
It had been too long since Sandy had last seen Ryan laugh. He and Taylor had tried really hard to make things work, but eventually, the girl had admitted that she had met someone else and that this long distance relationship wasn't enough for her anymore. Ryan had been down ever since, no matter how much he tried to hide it.
Sandy had thought for some time that Taylor was Ryan's rebound relationship after Marissa, and he had been glad when things had turned more serious between them. Taylor, for all her nuttiness, was very down-to-earth and reliable. She was probably just what Ryan needed.
Now, for Ryan's sake, he almost wished it had never become serious.
"Will you be mad if I punch him to make him shut up?" Ryan asked. Sandy studied him, startled, but as often, it was impossible to tell whether Ryan was joking or not. "Thanksgiving is almost there, and you know how Seth can be during family holidays."
Ten-year-old on a sugar high would be close to it, Sandy thought. "I hear Summer will come along for Thanksgiving, as well," he offered. "She'll reign Seth in."
Ryan snorted. "I hope so. The last thing I want is to listen to Seth's advice on relationships."
"It won't be so bad," Sandy said, vowing to make sure it wasn't bad at all. He didn't want Ryan to dread coming home for Thanksgiving, even if it was for such a harmless reason as Seth's well-meaning nudging.
"Yeah. If worse comes to worst, I'll just have to ask Summer to kick his ass."
Sandy waved a finger at him. "Now, there's a plan," he said, teasingly. "That girl sure has an arm on her."
Ryan fingered his hair reflexively, nodding.
College seemed to be treating him well, so far, Sandy thought. He looked tired, but since midterms were fast approaching, that was only to be expected. Other than that, Ryan was growing a lot more open and comfortable with the Cohens. It was almost as if, now that they had stuck with him through the worst, he finally believed that no one was going to abandon him or dismiss him again, that they would, indeed, always be there for him.
About damn time. For a while, when Ryan left after Marissa's death, Sandy had really wondered if they had lost him for good, if this was the point where it all ended. But Ryan had fought his way back, with their help, and Sandy prayed that the rest of the road would be easier on him than the beginning.
"And you know Kirsten always keeps a stash of duct tape ready, just in case," Sandy added. Not that she'd ever use it on Seth. Probably.
"Okay, then," Ryan said, checking his watch. "As long as the women keep Seth on the short leash, so I don't have to kick his ass..."
Well, at least Sandy had managed to cheer him up a little, and hopefully, they would get through Thanksgiving without any blood being shed-always a plus in his book.
*
2009
Ryan and Sandy were sitting on a bench in the park, idly picking at their sandwiches while studying the people around them-students running, talking among themselves, reading or just sunbathing. The sun was high in the sky and for the first time that year, it was actually warm. Everyone seemed hell bent on enjoying it.
They had met once a week since Ryan had started college, even during the exams, if only to breathe some fresh air and take a break from what Sandy called, "the surrounding madness."
Ryan often thought that it was nice to have people as laid back as Sandy and Kirsten for parents. They wanted him to do well, of course, but they also helped him to get some perspective when everyone around him seemed to fall into "if I don't pass this my life is over" mode. Despite the fact that Ryan knew that there were worse things in life than struggling with a class, that kind of thinking got contagious very fast. It was easy to get caught up in the frenzy and to forget that there was more to life than college.
Ryan wouldn't have thought that he would be the kind of guy to fall into that, but it turned out that even he wasn't immune. He wondered how high Seth's phone bills climbed during midterms; his friend rarely called him or Summer during these times, knowing they both had to work as much as he did, so he called his parents instead.
Speaking of whom... "Kirsten told me about the art gallery," Ryan said, noticing the way Sandy immediately started to smile.
"Yes, a friend of ours in Berkeley, back in the day, opened one, and wants Kirsten to work for it." Sandy wasn't looking at him, but Ryan could tell he was relieved. Since the Newport Group had ended, Kirsten had seemed hard-pressed to find something else to hold her interest. Sometimes, Ryan wondered if she missed her days as a business woman. He had always felt she must be excellent in that role but for a long while, things had conspired to keep her in the house.
"That's great." He knew how much Kirsten loved Sophie, but being stuck in mom role for several years must have been frustrating for her, considering that she had been part of the corporate life for so long. "She seemed really excited about it."
"She is." Sandy smiled, leaning in to add, "She says it's about damn time she started working again, before she couldn't anymore."
Ryan knew what that was like. When he had deferred Berkeley for a year, he hadn't thought about how hard it would be to actually start studying again once classes actually started. He never minded attending classes, but sitting down with a pile of notes and memorizing them was harder work than it seemed, and he had had one hell of a hard time, in the first few months in Berkeley, developing that ability again.
"Did you know that Seth and Summer are back together?" he asked Sandy. Seth had called him in the very early hours of the morning (and Ryan had spent most of the day trying not to yawn too obviously in his classes), hyper and talking a hundred words a minute. "It's awesome," and "This is so great" had featured heavily in the conversation.
Sandy nodded. "Yes, he told us. It's about time."
They shared a look. Summer had broken up with Seth shortly after the start of Fall term. It had taken a trip to the East Coast and a lot of beer to get Seth to confess that he had cheated on her while she was protesting in Texas, back when she was travelling for GEORGE, and she had finally learned about it. Ryan didn't think Sandy and Kirsten knew that part of the story, but Taylor sure did, and had spent about ten minutes ranting at Ryan on the phone before he told her to call Seth and tell him instead. Seth hadn't thanked him for that.
He had tried to make amends for several weeks before giving up and hiding the hurt behind fatalism. "We started dating in high school; what chance did we have to make it to adulthood?" he often asked Ryan.
There wasn't much Ryan could say to that, but he had always hoped that one day, Summer and Seth would work out their differences, if only so Seth would stop bringing home Goth girls or politicians in the making-he wasn't sure which of the two had been worse, but he was leaning towards the politician. The other one had at least been tolerant and compassionate, in a depressed sort of way.
Ryan didn't know how Seth and Summer had finally decided to get back together (Seth had been suspiciously close mouthed on the subject) but he was glad they had.
"And what about you?" Sandy said. "I haven't heard Seth mentioning an intervention for a while, now." He looked at Ryan, teasing gently. "Does he know something I don't?"
Ryan ducked his head, wondering how Sandy still had the ability to him blush after all this time. "Actually," he said, "I kind of met this girl."
Sandy's smile brightened. "Ah! I knew it!"
Ryan grimaced. "Yeah." He took a gulp of his bottled water to buy time. It had been a while since he had been so nervous about a relationship. "Her name's Emma."
Sandy sat back to listen as Ryan told him more about her-how they had met through mutual friends, as they were trying to slink out of a party undetected. How they had ended up sharing a coffee and laughing about Ryan's roommate's dancing moves, if one could call them that.
"She's very quiet," Ryan said. "Not like Taylor or Becky."
Sandy snorted, as Ryan had known he would, at the mention of Becky-a red-haired girl he had met about a year ago and had dated for several weeks, before deciding that the mind-blowing sex wasn't worth ignoring the fact that Becky wanted to learn how to play the violin, and trained at all hours of the day. And the night, much to her neighbours' displeasure.
"She's quiet?" Sandy asked then, as if deep in thought. Ryan knew what he was going to say before he said it. "Who talks?"
"Who said anything about talking?" Ryan shot back with a wry look, enjoying the sound of Sandy's guffaws.
*
2010
"I can't believe it," Sandy said, eyeing his Thai food and wondering what to eat first.
"Can't believe what?" Ryan asked, already starting on his plate. Maybe Sandy should have felt bad that they had made Ryan almost addicted to this food, but he didn't. Besides, he enjoyed it almost as much.
Sandy discreetly studied Ryan for a little while, thinking back about their first meeting. "Having a dream doesn't make you smart." If nothing else, they had kicked that kind of thinking out of him, or at least he hoped so. "Both my kids are graduating from college," he started, holding up a finger. "Seth is getting married in a few weeks," he added, a second finger joining the first. "And don't get me started on how fast Sophie is growing."
It hadn't been that great a shock to hear Seth's news, honestly. After all, Seth and Summer had tried living without each other several times already, in their convoluted relationship, and had never seemed as happy as when they were together.
It was just a shock to be reminded that he had reached the age where people saw their children get married and became grandparents.
When the hell had that happened?
And more importantly, what had he done with all that time?
Ryan was studying his surroundings with interest. It was the first time they had come here for their weekly meal-a new place, opened just a few months ago by someone Ryan had known in College. It was classier than most restaurants in Berkeley, without being as ostentatious as anything they could have found in Newport. And wasn't it astonishing how little he thought about that town now that he had left it?
"Do you miss it?" he asked out of the blue.
Ryan raised an eyebrow at him, obviously confused, and Sandy elaborated, "Newport. Our house there?"
Ryan pondered the question carefully, as he usually did whenever he was asked for an opinion, and Sandy smiled at the sight. It has been almost eight years, he thought, astonished all over again. Eight years since I met this kid. It felt like it had been yesterday.
"A little," Ryan eventually said with a shrug. "The town, not so much. The house... yes, a little."
Despite all the bad times you had there, Sandy almost said. Oliver and the pregnancy, Caleb and Luke, these cops showing up to arrest you after Trey. Marissa. But of course, there had been good times, too-shared meals and jokes and the warmth of family, new friends and lovers.
"But I like it here," Ryan added, his hesitant smile reminding Sandy of the kid he had once been. "It's different."
Going from Chino to Newport and then Berkeley must have made for a hell of a culture shock. The three towns might as well have been on three different planets. "That it is," Sandy said, simply.
Ryan shot a quick look around before eyeing Sandy, seeming worried about who might hear them. "Speaking of the wedding-"
Sandy couldn't resist. "You're getting married too?"
Ryan chuckled. "No! I just... The person I invited..."
Sandy gestured for him to go on. "Yes?"
"I'm seeing Taylor again."
Sandy couldn't help smiling at Ryan's awestruck expression. "Since when?"
"A few months." Ryan shot a distracted look out the window, then stared down at his glass. "She came back early from Europe, and we met, and..."
Sandy smiled reassuringly. "Good," he said. He had always liked Taylor, if only for her ability to bring to the surface a side of Ryan that wasn't often seen. He hoped that things would go more smoothly for them than the first time around. "Now, you know Kirsten is going to pump me for information tonight, so, details, mister!" he ordered.
*
Conclusion : 2014
Ryan leaned back against the cushions, exhausted. The day had been long, spent between meeting with contractors and some prospecting and the evening... well, the evening had been even longer. It had taken time to convince that kid that no, he wasn't interested in him that way, and yes, he was seriously offering shelter for the night, until they could call Social Services in the morning or send him back home.
The kid had looked wary at the notion of social workers and about ready to flee at the idea of going home.
Ryan could understand.
He had been there, done that, and made a leap of faith as well, and yes, he, too, had wondered what the kind stranger had in mind when he had offered to help.
But now the kid was safely tucked away in the guest room, Taylor was in bed as well, and Ryan was left wondering when he had become the guy in the Range Rover with a business card, instead of the kid sitting on a street corner, beat up and hopeless and scared out of his wits.
Had Sandy known, that day, that he was saving Ryan's life, figuratively if not literally? They had never talked about it, certainly not in those terms, but Ryan could still feel gratitude whenever he thought about what the Cohens had done for him.
He knew, realistically, that this kid sleeping now in his house would probably be returned to his family or placed into a group home if they did call the authorities. He knew this wouldn't be a re-write of his own life, nor should it be-god knows he had had dealt with more than enough crap already. He wouldn't wish it on anyone.
It didn't mean he couldn't offer a bed for the night, didn't mean he had to leave that kid to sleep in the streets. He still remembered the looks on the passer-bys' faces whenever he opted to sleep on a bench instead of going home, how they all looked through him, as if he was invisible, as if they didn't even want to see him. He remembered how quickly he had learned not to ask for help from anyone, because it was just a waste of time.
"How do you know he's not dangerous?" Taylor had whispered, before going to bed. She hadn't seemed accusing or doubtful or scared, merely curious, Ryan had noticed.
"I don't." All he had was a gut-feeling, and he was willing to trust it.
And if he trusted it, he might as well ask for the help of an expert. He picked up his phone and dialled the number. Sandy's deep voice answered on the other end, and Ryan could hear Kirsten in the background, asking what was going on. "Sandy? It's me. You free for breakfast, tomorrow? There's something I need to talk to you about."
end
Author : Helen C.
Rating : G
Summary : Some glimpses into the Cohens+1 lives after (or during, depending on how you want to look at it) the finale.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN. Many thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this and to fredsmith518, who totally inspired me to write this fic.
Shiny Happy People
Helen C.
2007
"So, kid, how is it going so far?" Sandy asked, taking a seat across Ryan, the food already laid out on the table. Hamburgers, fries and soda; fat and calories all at once-Kirsten would probably have a lot to say about what they were eating, but damn it, they were guys and they needed the energy. That was Ryan's story, and he was sticking to it.
Ryan picked up a French fry and waved it at Sandy, smiling. "So, that's why you wanted to see me? To grill me?"
"I never need an excuse to see you," Sandy retorted. "But yes, Kirsten and I thought it was time for a check... She's tackling Seth later today."
Ryan took a sip from his soda to hide a smirk. "Did you draw straws?"
Seth had called him three times already, and Ryan had barely been able to get a word edgewise given how fast Seth had prattled on, and on, and on. So far, a week on the East Coast hadn't changed Seth an iota. Ryan wondered whether another four years were going to make a difference.
It couldn't be easy for his friend. Seth had never dealt well with being alone, and for all his thirst for independence, this was his first real try to make a life for himself, far from his parents.
"We did, actually," Sandy replied. He was dressed casually, in what he called his "professor attire"-shirt and jeans, no tie. He kept saying that being away from all that Newport Armani was a relief, and Ryan could empathize. He didn't miss the designer jeans crowd either.
Sandy seemed to be breathing again since he had settled back in Berkeley; Ryan couldn't remember ever seeing him so relaxed and laid back. Or maybe it was fatherhood, giving him a second youth? Whatever the reason, Sandy and Kirsten looked and behaved like newlyweds all over again.
Ryan had refrained from saying so to Seth. He knew what his friend's reaction would be-a hearty "ew!", probably followed by some variation of the scarred-for-life speech. Ryan would have agreed on the general principle (he didn't want to know anything about Sandy and Kirsten's private life, ever), but seeing them so happy made him feel even more glad he had followed his impulse and tried to buy back their old house. And of course, there was the added benefit of having them close; at eighteen, he probably should have strived for independence like Seth did, but frankly, he didn't think he was ready for a long-distance relationship with the Cohens just yet.
Sandy was watching him, waiting for his reaction, so Ryan asked, "Who lost?"
Sandy chuckled easily. "Take a guess."
Ryan smiled but didn't reply, knowing full well that the drawing straws thing was pure invention-just a way to get the conversation rolling before Sandy got to what he really wanted to ask.
"And don't think I didn't notice how you managed to avoid replying to my question," Sandy added.
Ryan rolled his eyes elaborately, wondering how he could possibly explain what it was like to be here. He felt alarmingly out of his depth, but at the same time, he had never felt more at ease anywhere. Maybe it was because no one here knew anything about him or his past. No one was judging him on what they thought they knew about him; no one was expecting him to screw up (well, no one but himself, and less so these days). He was enjoying his classes so far, and the few people he had interacted with had been interesting and about as awe-struck as he was.
He had thought he would feel weird and out of place, being the first Atwood to attend college, but at least three other people in his chemistry class had blue collar parents, and he had seen several others look around with wide eyes and incredulous smiles.
By the time midterms came, Ryan was sure that the feeling of contentment would fade and be replaced by frustration and weariness, but for now, he was determined to enjoy himself.
"I haven't gotten lost today, yet," he said. It was a running joke that all the freshmen needed a map of the campus for the first few weeks, and he knew that Sandy would be able to read between the lines.
"Ah, yes." Sandy took a bite off his hamburger, looking around affectionately. "I remember when I first got here. I was terrified."
So was I, Ryan thought, but that wasn't true. Terrified had been on the side of that road, with Marissa dying in his arms. Terrified had been going home in Chino and finding his mother gone. Here... He was worried of failing, of having to start over again in a foreign town, he was worried that people would think he wasn't entitled to this.
It wasn't being terrified, though.
"And then," Sandy went on, "I met all these people who came from different backgrounds-some wealthy, some even poorer than I was, and I realized that this was a chance to see the world without travelling."
Ryan nodded, thinking about his roommate, born and raised in Alabama, and the guy across the hallway, who came from Chicago, and the German student who was here on a scholarship.
"In some ways, these were the best days of my life," Sandy added.
Ryan smiled at the unspoken, "I hope you'll enjoy yourself as much as I do."
Then, because they were guys and heavy discussions weren't something Ryan was totally comfortable with, he asked, "So, how is Sophie doing?" confident that it would keep them occupied until well after they were done eating.
*
2008
"Seth called yesterday," Ryan said, glaring at his slice of pizza as if it was responsible for the situation.
Sandy grimaced, thinking, Uh oh... His son had decided that Ryan needed an intervention so he'd "get back on the market," after his recent (and rather messy) break-up with Taylor. Long distance relationships were hard to maintain, and Sandy suspected it must have been even harder with someone like Ryan-visual clues were so often necessary to hear everything Ryan was saying... or failing to say.
"What did he want?" he asked, hoping that Seth had had a modicum of tact.
"Same as usual. Wanted to know when I was going to meet a nice girl and settle down." He met Sandy's gaze, adding, "And yes, he used those exact words."
Sandy tried not to laugh at Seth's particular brand of bluntness. College hadn't changed that side of him yet.
"He sounds like..." Ryan trailed off, his cheeks growing pink, and poked at a bit of tomato with his fork.
"Like a father?" Sandy gave up the fight and laughed. "Well, we both know that deep inside Seth lives the heart and soul of an eighty year old."
He cheered inwardly when Ryan grinned, either because he remembered Miami or Seth and Summer's "old married couple" routine.
It had been too long since Sandy had last seen Ryan laugh. He and Taylor had tried really hard to make things work, but eventually, the girl had admitted that she had met someone else and that this long distance relationship wasn't enough for her anymore. Ryan had been down ever since, no matter how much he tried to hide it.
Sandy had thought for some time that Taylor was Ryan's rebound relationship after Marissa, and he had been glad when things had turned more serious between them. Taylor, for all her nuttiness, was very down-to-earth and reliable. She was probably just what Ryan needed.
Now, for Ryan's sake, he almost wished it had never become serious.
"Will you be mad if I punch him to make him shut up?" Ryan asked. Sandy studied him, startled, but as often, it was impossible to tell whether Ryan was joking or not. "Thanksgiving is almost there, and you know how Seth can be during family holidays."
Ten-year-old on a sugar high would be close to it, Sandy thought. "I hear Summer will come along for Thanksgiving, as well," he offered. "She'll reign Seth in."
Ryan snorted. "I hope so. The last thing I want is to listen to Seth's advice on relationships."
"It won't be so bad," Sandy said, vowing to make sure it wasn't bad at all. He didn't want Ryan to dread coming home for Thanksgiving, even if it was for such a harmless reason as Seth's well-meaning nudging.
"Yeah. If worse comes to worst, I'll just have to ask Summer to kick his ass."
Sandy waved a finger at him. "Now, there's a plan," he said, teasingly. "That girl sure has an arm on her."
Ryan fingered his hair reflexively, nodding.
College seemed to be treating him well, so far, Sandy thought. He looked tired, but since midterms were fast approaching, that was only to be expected. Other than that, Ryan was growing a lot more open and comfortable with the Cohens. It was almost as if, now that they had stuck with him through the worst, he finally believed that no one was going to abandon him or dismiss him again, that they would, indeed, always be there for him.
About damn time. For a while, when Ryan left after Marissa's death, Sandy had really wondered if they had lost him for good, if this was the point where it all ended. But Ryan had fought his way back, with their help, and Sandy prayed that the rest of the road would be easier on him than the beginning.
"And you know Kirsten always keeps a stash of duct tape ready, just in case," Sandy added. Not that she'd ever use it on Seth. Probably.
"Okay, then," Ryan said, checking his watch. "As long as the women keep Seth on the short leash, so I don't have to kick his ass..."
Well, at least Sandy had managed to cheer him up a little, and hopefully, they would get through Thanksgiving without any blood being shed-always a plus in his book.
*
2009
Ryan and Sandy were sitting on a bench in the park, idly picking at their sandwiches while studying the people around them-students running, talking among themselves, reading or just sunbathing. The sun was high in the sky and for the first time that year, it was actually warm. Everyone seemed hell bent on enjoying it.
They had met once a week since Ryan had started college, even during the exams, if only to breathe some fresh air and take a break from what Sandy called, "the surrounding madness."
Ryan often thought that it was nice to have people as laid back as Sandy and Kirsten for parents. They wanted him to do well, of course, but they also helped him to get some perspective when everyone around him seemed to fall into "if I don't pass this my life is over" mode. Despite the fact that Ryan knew that there were worse things in life than struggling with a class, that kind of thinking got contagious very fast. It was easy to get caught up in the frenzy and to forget that there was more to life than college.
Ryan wouldn't have thought that he would be the kind of guy to fall into that, but it turned out that even he wasn't immune. He wondered how high Seth's phone bills climbed during midterms; his friend rarely called him or Summer during these times, knowing they both had to work as much as he did, so he called his parents instead.
Speaking of whom... "Kirsten told me about the art gallery," Ryan said, noticing the way Sandy immediately started to smile.
"Yes, a friend of ours in Berkeley, back in the day, opened one, and wants Kirsten to work for it." Sandy wasn't looking at him, but Ryan could tell he was relieved. Since the Newport Group had ended, Kirsten had seemed hard-pressed to find something else to hold her interest. Sometimes, Ryan wondered if she missed her days as a business woman. He had always felt she must be excellent in that role but for a long while, things had conspired to keep her in the house.
"That's great." He knew how much Kirsten loved Sophie, but being stuck in mom role for several years must have been frustrating for her, considering that she had been part of the corporate life for so long. "She seemed really excited about it."
"She is." Sandy smiled, leaning in to add, "She says it's about damn time she started working again, before she couldn't anymore."
Ryan knew what that was like. When he had deferred Berkeley for a year, he hadn't thought about how hard it would be to actually start studying again once classes actually started. He never minded attending classes, but sitting down with a pile of notes and memorizing them was harder work than it seemed, and he had had one hell of a hard time, in the first few months in Berkeley, developing that ability again.
"Did you know that Seth and Summer are back together?" he asked Sandy. Seth had called him in the very early hours of the morning (and Ryan had spent most of the day trying not to yawn too obviously in his classes), hyper and talking a hundred words a minute. "It's awesome," and "This is so great" had featured heavily in the conversation.
Sandy nodded. "Yes, he told us. It's about time."
They shared a look. Summer had broken up with Seth shortly after the start of Fall term. It had taken a trip to the East Coast and a lot of beer to get Seth to confess that he had cheated on her while she was protesting in Texas, back when she was travelling for GEORGE, and she had finally learned about it. Ryan didn't think Sandy and Kirsten knew that part of the story, but Taylor sure did, and had spent about ten minutes ranting at Ryan on the phone before he told her to call Seth and tell him instead. Seth hadn't thanked him for that.
He had tried to make amends for several weeks before giving up and hiding the hurt behind fatalism. "We started dating in high school; what chance did we have to make it to adulthood?" he often asked Ryan.
There wasn't much Ryan could say to that, but he had always hoped that one day, Summer and Seth would work out their differences, if only so Seth would stop bringing home Goth girls or politicians in the making-he wasn't sure which of the two had been worse, but he was leaning towards the politician. The other one had at least been tolerant and compassionate, in a depressed sort of way.
Ryan didn't know how Seth and Summer had finally decided to get back together (Seth had been suspiciously close mouthed on the subject) but he was glad they had.
"And what about you?" Sandy said. "I haven't heard Seth mentioning an intervention for a while, now." He looked at Ryan, teasing gently. "Does he know something I don't?"
Ryan ducked his head, wondering how Sandy still had the ability to him blush after all this time. "Actually," he said, "I kind of met this girl."
Sandy's smile brightened. "Ah! I knew it!"
Ryan grimaced. "Yeah." He took a gulp of his bottled water to buy time. It had been a while since he had been so nervous about a relationship. "Her name's Emma."
Sandy sat back to listen as Ryan told him more about her-how they had met through mutual friends, as they were trying to slink out of a party undetected. How they had ended up sharing a coffee and laughing about Ryan's roommate's dancing moves, if one could call them that.
"She's very quiet," Ryan said. "Not like Taylor or Becky."
Sandy snorted, as Ryan had known he would, at the mention of Becky-a red-haired girl he had met about a year ago and had dated for several weeks, before deciding that the mind-blowing sex wasn't worth ignoring the fact that Becky wanted to learn how to play the violin, and trained at all hours of the day. And the night, much to her neighbours' displeasure.
"She's quiet?" Sandy asked then, as if deep in thought. Ryan knew what he was going to say before he said it. "Who talks?"
"Who said anything about talking?" Ryan shot back with a wry look, enjoying the sound of Sandy's guffaws.
*
2010
"I can't believe it," Sandy said, eyeing his Thai food and wondering what to eat first.
"Can't believe what?" Ryan asked, already starting on his plate. Maybe Sandy should have felt bad that they had made Ryan almost addicted to this food, but he didn't. Besides, he enjoyed it almost as much.
Sandy discreetly studied Ryan for a little while, thinking back about their first meeting. "Having a dream doesn't make you smart." If nothing else, they had kicked that kind of thinking out of him, or at least he hoped so. "Both my kids are graduating from college," he started, holding up a finger. "Seth is getting married in a few weeks," he added, a second finger joining the first. "And don't get me started on how fast Sophie is growing."
It hadn't been that great a shock to hear Seth's news, honestly. After all, Seth and Summer had tried living without each other several times already, in their convoluted relationship, and had never seemed as happy as when they were together.
It was just a shock to be reminded that he had reached the age where people saw their children get married and became grandparents.
When the hell had that happened?
And more importantly, what had he done with all that time?
Ryan was studying his surroundings with interest. It was the first time they had come here for their weekly meal-a new place, opened just a few months ago by someone Ryan had known in College. It was classier than most restaurants in Berkeley, without being as ostentatious as anything they could have found in Newport. And wasn't it astonishing how little he thought about that town now that he had left it?
"Do you miss it?" he asked out of the blue.
Ryan raised an eyebrow at him, obviously confused, and Sandy elaborated, "Newport. Our house there?"
Ryan pondered the question carefully, as he usually did whenever he was asked for an opinion, and Sandy smiled at the sight. It has been almost eight years, he thought, astonished all over again. Eight years since I met this kid. It felt like it had been yesterday.
"A little," Ryan eventually said with a shrug. "The town, not so much. The house... yes, a little."
Despite all the bad times you had there, Sandy almost said. Oliver and the pregnancy, Caleb and Luke, these cops showing up to arrest you after Trey. Marissa. But of course, there had been good times, too-shared meals and jokes and the warmth of family, new friends and lovers.
"But I like it here," Ryan added, his hesitant smile reminding Sandy of the kid he had once been. "It's different."
Going from Chino to Newport and then Berkeley must have made for a hell of a culture shock. The three towns might as well have been on three different planets. "That it is," Sandy said, simply.
Ryan shot a quick look around before eyeing Sandy, seeming worried about who might hear them. "Speaking of the wedding-"
Sandy couldn't resist. "You're getting married too?"
Ryan chuckled. "No! I just... The person I invited..."
Sandy gestured for him to go on. "Yes?"
"I'm seeing Taylor again."
Sandy couldn't help smiling at Ryan's awestruck expression. "Since when?"
"A few months." Ryan shot a distracted look out the window, then stared down at his glass. "She came back early from Europe, and we met, and..."
Sandy smiled reassuringly. "Good," he said. He had always liked Taylor, if only for her ability to bring to the surface a side of Ryan that wasn't often seen. He hoped that things would go more smoothly for them than the first time around. "Now, you know Kirsten is going to pump me for information tonight, so, details, mister!" he ordered.
*
Conclusion : 2014
Ryan leaned back against the cushions, exhausted. The day had been long, spent between meeting with contractors and some prospecting and the evening... well, the evening had been even longer. It had taken time to convince that kid that no, he wasn't interested in him that way, and yes, he was seriously offering shelter for the night, until they could call Social Services in the morning or send him back home.
The kid had looked wary at the notion of social workers and about ready to flee at the idea of going home.
Ryan could understand.
He had been there, done that, and made a leap of faith as well, and yes, he, too, had wondered what the kind stranger had in mind when he had offered to help.
But now the kid was safely tucked away in the guest room, Taylor was in bed as well, and Ryan was left wondering when he had become the guy in the Range Rover with a business card, instead of the kid sitting on a street corner, beat up and hopeless and scared out of his wits.
Had Sandy known, that day, that he was saving Ryan's life, figuratively if not literally? They had never talked about it, certainly not in those terms, but Ryan could still feel gratitude whenever he thought about what the Cohens had done for him.
He knew, realistically, that this kid sleeping now in his house would probably be returned to his family or placed into a group home if they did call the authorities. He knew this wouldn't be a re-write of his own life, nor should it be-god knows he had had dealt with more than enough crap already. He wouldn't wish it on anyone.
It didn't mean he couldn't offer a bed for the night, didn't mean he had to leave that kid to sleep in the streets. He still remembered the looks on the passer-bys' faces whenever he opted to sleep on a bench instead of going home, how they all looked through him, as if he was invisible, as if they didn't even want to see him. He remembered how quickly he had learned not to ask for help from anyone, because it was just a waste of time.
"How do you know he's not dangerous?" Taylor had whispered, before going to bed. She hadn't seemed accusing or doubtful or scared, merely curious, Ryan had noticed.
"I don't." All he had was a gut-feeling, and he was willing to trust it.
And if he trusted it, he might as well ask for the help of an expert. He picked up his phone and dialled the number. Sandy's deep voice answered on the other end, and Ryan could hear Kirsten in the background, asking what was going on. "Sandy? It's me. You free for breakfast, tomorrow? There's something I need to talk to you about."
end