Try It Again - Part 8

[snapsparagus]

Here's Chapter 8....  Nothing owned, nothing gained.  :)


Sandy did not have a restful night, there were no two ways about that. He barely slept, going back and forth between feeling angry at Ryan and feeling guilty for coming down too hard on him.

Ryan had gotten himself into a situation and it was clearly his own doing. Ryan was the one who left without telling anyone; he was the one who went to the pier looking for a fight. And. He was the one who came back with a scarily torn up fist. Sandy felt sick when he thought about Ryan’s busted knuckles. What had he done to that kid? Ryan had sworn he hadn’t hurt him badly, but Sandy couldn’t exactly take a promise from Ryan at face value. Especially now. Hell, he couldn’t even take a promise from his own son at face value. Teenagers are not known for their reliability, Sandy knew, especially when they already know they’re in trouble.

On the other hand.

Ryan had been defending Seth. Maybe not in an appropriate way, but he’d been trying to be a good friend. He’d just done it wrong. All wrong.

Sandy saw himself in his memory, speaking sharply to Ryan. He felt that his face had been tight with anger. He hadn’t realized these things in the moment, but now that he had time to reflect on his evening he knew that he’d scared Ryan. His mind kept replaying the boy’s guarded face, his body seeming to melt in the direction opposite of Sandy.   The last thing he wanted was to scare the kid.

I mean, God. That’s the last fucking thing he wanted to do.

Sandy also felt guilty for not taking Ryan to the doctor the night before. He probably should have. Things had gotten crazy, and they’d all been so tired…. But Ryan needed a doctor and Sandy had promised to provide Ryan with what he needed. That was probably the worst feeling of all: Sandy was not giving the support that he had promised Ryan. He was slowly realizing that Ryan couldn’t coexist with his family without a whole lot of handholding, not even for a week. It broke Sandy’s heart to think about Ryan’s angry, bruised face snapping at him, “Why don’t you let me go back to Chino?” just last night. Four days into his stay. Really? Chino was better than this?

Really?

That didn’t bode well for Sandy.

At nine the next morning, when Sandy could stand to be still no longer, he crept to Ryan’s bedside to take a look at his hand. He was all over again unhappy when he saw the chewed-up skin, the swollen and dark fingers. Blood on the sheets. Oh, Hell. He should have had stitches.

Sandy couldn’t help himself from reaching out, touching at the boy’s hand.

Ryan awoke in a burst of fiery energy. He gasped a loud breath and sat bolt upright, one eye wide in fear and the other eye swollen and sore.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sandy said urgently. Ryan fought with the bedsheets and scrambled backward, lurching away from Sandy, who knew enough, by now, to back away himself.

“Sandy,” Ryan said in a scratchy early morning voice. “It’s…Sandy.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m not scared.” Automatic. The words left his lips reflexively.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Um. I guess so?” Ryan said.

“Listen, kid. I want to apologize for last night. I know I was sharp with you. I don’t approve of fighting, but I should have given you more of a chance to explain yourself. I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh,” Ryan was surprised. He was also a little confused, since he’d just woken up. He looked past Sandy at the front door, saw the chair, saw that Sandy had spent the night in the poolhouse.  “No, it’s, ah…it’s fine.”

“I called the doctor. You have an appointment in half an hour.”

“Come on, Sandy,” Ryan groaned.

“No arguments,” Sandy said, holding his hands up in a palmy display of ‘my-decision-is-made.’ “I should have taken you last night, and I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

“No,” Ryan dropped his gaze, his face heating up. “It’s okay.”

“Now get ready and we’ll leave in twenty minutes.”

Ryan had to try once more. “Sandy, it’s just an unnecessary expense. I’m fine.”

“If this is fine I’d hate to see you messed up,” Sandy said lightly. As soon as the words were out he wished he could take them back. He watched Ryan’s shoulders slump and he bit his lower lip gently, clearly at a loss for words. The fact of the matter was that Sandy had seen Ryan messed up. And he’d been trying to refuse medical care then, too. Sandy changed his tack. “Please don’t argue with me, Ryan. I’ll feel a lot better after you see the doctor. Now get ready.”

“All right,” Ryan sighed.

He waited until Sandy had gone before he got up and stretched, walked to the bathroom. Once there he saw how ugly his black eye was and he got pissed off all over again. Fucking Chip.

“Hey, Ryan?” he heard Seth call moments later. Jesus Christ, was there no peace in the entire world? Ryan let his head hang for a moment, gathering his patience.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he called, a little too loudly.

“Take your time, buddy.”

Yeah. Right.

Leaving the bathroom, Ryan glanced at Seth - sprawled, of course, on his bed - and went to his shelves to get a clean t-shirt. He was still wearing his jeans from last night and after a quick inspection he decided there was too much blood splattered on them for a re-wear so he knew he needed to swap them out for his one remaining clean pair. The fingers of his right hand were too swollen and uncooperative to work the buttons and zipper on his jeans so he had to take it annoyingly slow with his left hand.

“Dad said he’s taking you to the doctor,” Seth said.

“Uh-huh,” Ryan intoned. He wished that for once Seth would get the hint and give him a little space. He just needed a few minutes to gather himself.

“Your hand looks--”

“It’s okay.”

A pause.

“It’s not okay, dude, it looks like Hell.”

“It’s busted up. I know,” Ryan practically barked the words out, his voice hoarse with impatience.

Slow down. Slow. The fuck. Down. Ryan inhaled sharply through his nose, letting his good eye drop half-closed.

Maintain.

“What happened?” Seth asked the question very quietly, as if he was already half-convinced that Ryan would refuse to answer. Ryan gave him a quick annoyed glance and went back to working the button.

“I mean, I can piece things together a bit based on context clues,” Seth continued, staring at the ceiling. “Somebody gave you a black eye. But judging by your fist, there, Rocky, I’d hate to see the other guy.”

“Seth, would you just--” Ryan finally untangled himself from the jeans and threw them unceremoniously on the floor. “Fuck. Can you just give me a couple of minutes? Please?”  Neither Ryan nor Seth moved or talked for several seconds. Finally Ryan picked up the clean pants and pulled them up, starting the zipper challenge all over again.

“Or what?” Seth asked softly. “You gonna break your one remaining good hand on me? I’m sure if you try hard enough they’ll send you back to Chino, dude. That’s what you want, right?” He sat up and looked at Ryan, who clenched his jaw in annoyance and stared back at Seth, giving him a multidimensional look of anger, confusion and pain.

“Sometimes you talk too much,” Ryan muttered, his eyes flashing.

“Hey,” Seth said, standing up. “I’m going. All right?” He walked to the door. “Let me know when you’re ready to talk. Or hang out, or whatever.   But I’m gonna leave you alone because I’m certain that even with a broken hand you could still thoroughly kick my ass.”

“Seth--” Ryan forced the word out.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll catch up with you later.” Waving a hand, Seth walked off.

Ryan shook his head. He didn’t have any idea how to even begin to deal with Seth right now. And he had another problem: his shoes. He’d been stupid enough to untie them last night, and now he was never going to be able to tie them again. He managed to pull his sneakers on with minimal trouble, but the laces were simply an impossibility.   Ryan stared at his shoes until Sandy knocked on the door.

“Ready?” Sandy pushed the door open.

“Yeah,” Ryan stood and, keeping his eyes straight ahead, went to Sandy.

“Your, uh--” Sandy began, pointing. “You can’t tie your shoes, can you?”

“It’s fine,” Ryan mumbled, his face reddening. He tried to get past Sandy to go to the door.

“Hold on,” Sandy took his shoulders gently. Ryan kept his face turned to the side, fiercely avoiding looking into Sandy’s eyes. With Sandy so close to him Ryan’s heart began to thud, distending his hurt rib with each beat. “I’ll tie your shoes,” Sandy said, unaware of Ryan’s troubles. “I don’t want you to trip. Hey, that’s all we need, right?” he tried to joke. “Come on, sit down.” Ryan obeyed and sat as patiently as he could while Sandy did up his laces. “See? No big deal.”

But it was a big deal. He shouldn’t have to rely on Sandy to dress himself. He wasn’t a child.

Sandy glanced at his passenger while he drove them to the doctor. Ryan’s black eye was in plain view from this angle, and it made Sandy feel a little sick every time he saw it.

“Everything okay?” Sandy asked. Ryan exhaled in an almost-laugh.

“Yeah, Sandy. Everything’s great.” He shook his head. “My mom doesn’t want me, I’m stuck in a place I don’t know and every single day I fuck up worse. Everything’s great.”

“Aww, come on. It’s not as bad as all that.”

Sandy took Ryan to his own doctor, Jack Miller. Jack and Sandy had known each other since Sandy had come to Newport more than ten years earlier. They golfed regularly and did lunch about once a month.

It didn’t surprise Sandy to be ushered right into an exam room but Ryan felt awkward. He barely had time to get situated in a chair - he certainly wasn’t going to sit on the table - when the doctor came breezing in the room.

“Hello, Sandy,” Jack said in a sociable voice. He nodded at Ryan and stuck a hand out. “Ryan. Nice to meet you. Dr. Miller.” Ryan automatically reached his hand to shake the doctor’s and looked down at it, sore, bruised. “So that’s the problem, there, then?” Jack took Ryan’s hand gently in his own and turned it over carefully. “Okay. Let’s get an X-Ray.” He looked at Ryan’s face, touched carefully around his darkened eye. It took all of Ryan’s energy to stay still for the inspection.

“Ryan,” Dr. Miller said, “I want you to undress down to your underwear and put this gown on.” Dr. Miller handed him a paper gown; Ryan was already shaking his head ‘no.’ “I want to check you over to make sure I’m not missing anything.” He smiled reassuringly.

“I’m fine,” Ryan insisted.

“Please do as the doctor asks--” Sandy began.

“No,” Ryan interrupted. He immediately reeled back a little, ashamed at raising his voice in front of these two. But he was too opposed to a full check-up to keep quiet. “I just…Sandy brought me here for my hand. And it’s right here,” Ryan held it up a little.

“I’m going to get the X-Ray machine ready. When I come back I expect you to be changed,” Dr. Miller said quietly, a supportive smile on his face. His no-nonsense tone of voice didn’t meld with his friendly expression, and Ryan watched him sideways. The doctor’s face was unendingly open and accepting.

“All right,” he finally agreed.

“Sandy, join me, will you?” Dr. Miller asked. The two walked out of the exam room.

“What’s the story with this kid?” Jack asked once they were out in the hallway.

“Kirsten and I kind of unofficially adopted him for the week. His mom’s in Chino, and her boyfriend gave him a pounding. He needed to get away for a couple of days.”

“And he’s a client?”

“Well,” Sandy shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, waving a hand in the air as if Ryan’s being a client meant nothing. “I was his PD on an unrelated charge…his brother stole a car and Ryan was with him.”

“You told me he got in a fight yesterday. Has he talked much about it? Have you seen the other kid?”

“He hasn’t talked much about it. He doesn’t really…talk…that much. He did say that the other kid was okay. But Ryan’s hand….”

“I know. I don’t think that damage was caused by hitting a person, though,” Jack said. “I’ll bet you he took his anger out on a wooden pile at the beach or something. His knuckles are all chewed up. I don’t think that happened during a fight.” The doctor saw that Sandy was taken aback by this possibility and knew it was time to change the subject. “I’m gonna go make sure the X-Ray machine is ready,” he said. He touched Sandy’s arm on his way past, a small but comforting gesture.

“Thanks, Jack,” Sandy called hollowly after him.

Sandy opened the exam room door a crack. “Are you decent?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ryan sighed. He had donned the gown, and his clothes were folded on a chair.

“Jack’s a nice guy, don’t you think?”

“Seems it,” Ryan muttered. Neither spoke while Sandy wandered to a poster on the wall, hands in pockets, and, in less than a minute, learned more than he ever wanted to know about prostate cancer.

“You’re really uncomfortable,” Sandy finally said, turning back to Ryan.

“Hate doctors.”

“Well. It shouldn’t take too much longer.” Sandy sat on the doctor’s twirly chair and faced Ryan. “I do have some stuff I want to talk to you about.” He watched Ryan close his eyes. Well, his good eye. Sandy pressed on. It would never be a good time to have this conversation. “Who’d you fight, yesterday?”

“Some guy named Chip, works at an ice cream store,” Ryan murmured. “I don’t know his last name.”

“Oh. I know him,” Sandy said. “I know his father.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He was messing with Seth?”

“He threw stones at Seth’s skateboard wheels and made him fall. Seth could have gotten hurt.”

“But he didn’t.”

“But he could have.”

“So instead you hurt Chip.”

“Whatever,” Ryan shook his head, dismissing this. “He was fine. He deserved worse than he got.”

“What else did you hit? Other than Chip?”

“Do we need to talk about this right now?” Ryan hissed. A quick blush worked its way up Ryan’s neck, reddening his cheeks. He knows.  Ryan’s shoulders were getting tense, his eyes narrowing. Sandy leaned back in his seat and was rewarded with an instant loosening in Ryan’s posture. Slowly but surely, Sandy was learning his way around this kid.

Ryan carefully stared only at the door, waiting for it to open, while he felt Sandy’s eyes on him.

“You need to talk to me, Ryan.”

“Why?” Ryan laughed darkly. “What difference will it make?”

“Come on, kid,” Sandy tilted his head coercively. He wasn’t going to beg.

Ryan sighed and his shoulders slumped further. What did he have to lose, really? “It’s stupid. I know it is. I beat the shit out of a brick wall because I stopped hitting Chip before I was done.”

“Okay,” Sandy nodded. “You’re right. It was a stupid thing to do. But it’s done and we’re here and we can get past this.”

“Sandy--”

“What made you stop hitting Chip?”

“He fell. And I’m not a fucking asshole.”

Their exchange was cut short by the doctor coming to get Ryan for the X-Ray.

A couple of Ryan’s fingers were dislocated. Amazingly nothing was broken. Dr. Miller wrapped Ryan’s hand securely with an elastic bandage and gave him repeated instructions to take it easy. When he was finished with Ryan’s hand the doctor made eye contact with Sandy and bobbed his chin toward the door.

“I’ve got to go make a phone call,” Sandy said easily. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. Ryan, will you be okay?”

“Yeah,” Ryan breathed. He didn’t look, but he heard the door close behind Sandy.

“I’m just going to take a quick look at your rib. Sandy said that you were injured a few days ago?”

“It’s fine,” Ryan said.

“I’d like to take a look.”

Ryan closed his eyes momentarily and nodded, pulling the paper gown aside. He sat, tense, feigning patience, while inside he was more than ready for the doctor to be done.

“Okay,” Dr. Miller said, pressing gently on the area around the rib. Ryan couldn’t help but flinch at the touch. “Still pretty tender?”

Obviously. Jackass.

“You weren’t doing yourself any favors by fighting with a broken rib.”

Ryan nodded again. What was he supposed to say?

“Okay, go ahead and get dressed.”

Dr. Jack Miller wrote in Ryan’s chart while subtly keeping an eye on the boy. Ryan pulled the paper gown off and slowly got his own clothes back on. A glance at Ryan’s bare chest and back confirmed what the doctor had suspected - the mom’s boyfriend had laid out a history on this kid. There weren’t many injuries, but the ones that were there were in noticeably varying degrees of healing.

“Thanks for your cooperation, Ryan,” Dr. Miller said once Ryan was dressed. He smiled at him and clapped him gently on the shoulder. “I’ll see you in a week.”

“Um,” Ryan said. He paused in trying to stuff his foot in a sneaker that he’d refused to untie. “I actually won’t be here in a week?”

“Well. I’ll let Sandy know that I expect to see you. He can get you and bring you to me. And Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“Look at me,” the doctor said, his voice still friendly. Ryan did, glancing up from underneath his hair. He’d make eye contact. Fine. But he didn’t have to be happy about it. “Sandy is a really great guy. You really ought to give him a chance.”

“I’m trying,” Ryan said. Although, when he thought about it, he hadn’t done such a good job of that today. He’d stopped trying to be close to the Cohens the minute he’d put on his Chino gear the evening prior. He’d had to choose a path and he’d chosen the path he knew. The one that also happened to let him give Seth a better chance at having stupid pricks like Chip leave him alone.

“Keep trying, all right? Try…a little less actively,” Dr. Miller said, kindly and quietly. “Okay?” Without waiting for an answer the doctor said good-bye and left. Ryan stared after him, puzzled.

“Hey, kid,” Sandy said moments later. Ryan lifted his eyes, shoes finally firmly on feet. “Ready to go?”  Ryan dipped his head in acknowledgment and followed Sandy. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I’m sorry I was so nervous. It seems…stupid…now.”

“No problem, kid. You were fine.”

A pause as they walked. Once in the parking lot Sandy pressed the button on his key fob to unlock the car.

“Is fine good enough?” Ryan didn’t mean to say out loud.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Sandy put his hand on the back of Ryan’s neck, affectionately, and Ryan didn’t pull away. “Sometimes fine is more than enough.”