Okay, I haven't decided yet if I'm going to continue my other story, but while I mull that over in my head, here's a new one. I know that everyone and their mother has a fic where Ryan's father/mother returns, but what can I say? I'm jumping on the bandwagon. I like the bandwagon. I like being a follower. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think. The song is by Mojave 3. I hope that you enjoy!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately neither the characters nor the song belong to me. I'm just borrowing. Please don't sue. I won't hurt them.
Where are you now?
Have you traveled too far?
And how are your dreams?
Have you got what you need?
The annoying chirp of his alarm clock woke Sandy up. He quickly reached over and silenced it before it woke up his wife who was curled up against him. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on her temple before extracting himself from her without waking her up. Kirsten just moaned softly in her sleep at the lack of his warm body next to hers, and rolled over to the other side of the bed hugging a pillow in his place.
Sandy grabbed his swimming trunks and a Berkeley t-shirt and slipped into the bathroom. When he emerged from the bathroom, Kirsten was sitting up in bed rubbing her eyes and holding the sheet tightly to her.
"Good morning," he said crossing over to her and giving her a good morning kiss.
"Good morning yourself," she said as she yawned.
"I'm sorry, did I wear you out last night?" Sandy grinned wickedly and Kirsten couldn't help but mirror his grin.
"A little bit," she admitted. "I'm not quite as young as I used to be."
"But still every bit as beautiful," Sandy assured her and she blushed. "All right, I better get going."
"Okay, have fun, be careful. I love you." It was Kirsten's standard goodbye to him when he was going surfing. Have fun. Be careful. Love you.
"Love you too," he echoed as he slipped out of their bedroom. He met Seth on the way down.
"Hey, is Mom up? I forgot to get her to sign my permission slip, and you're leaving, and I promised Summer I'd meet her at school early today to help her study." Sandy nodded, and was about to send Seth up there, but remembered the clothing, or lack there of, that he had left his wife in.
"She's up. But give her a minute. She's a little...well, she's not exactly..." Seth looked at him confused. "She's naked Seth, let her get dressed." Seth's face crumpled in disgust.
"Oh gross Dad! Totally gross. Please tell me that she's naked because she's about to get in the shower." Sandy just shrugged and kept moving on down the stairs.
"Sure, if that's what you want to hear," Sandy called. "But just remember. You should be glad that your parents have a healthy sex life. I've told you this before, your mom is hot, you're going to have to come to grips with that sooner or later."
"Dad, please don't say sex," Seth told him seriously as he made the motion of gagging and waited a few minutes before knocking on his parent's bedroom door. One thing that he didn't want to see was his mother naked, sitting in the bed that she shared with his father. That was the stuff of nightmares.
It was times like this that made Seth jealous of Summer and Marissa and the fact that their parents were divorced.
And whom do you smile?
Did you walk out the line?
Did you take what you wanted?
Did you take what was right?
Sandy returned from surfing to find just Kirsten and Ryan in the kitchen. Ryan was eating breakfast before he had to go and Kirsten was finishing up a cup of coffee.
"You're home early," Kirsten commented as he walked in.
"I have a meeting this morning," he said running the towel over his head. "Seth gone already?"
"Yeah, what did you say to him? He wouldn't look me in the eye this morning," Kirsten asked. Sandy let out a big laugh at that causing Ryan to look up from the text book that he was reading.
"I just told him to wait a few minutes before walking in on you. You know Seth, he would have just walked right in, and we didn't want that," Sandy said.
"Why not?" Ryan asked. Neither answered right away. Ryan looked from Sandy to Kirsten who was blushing and then back to Sandy. It was as if a light bulb went on over his head. "Oh...ew!" Kirsten turned bright red this time and placed her cup of coffee in the sink.
"Ready to go Ryan?" She said quickly changing the subject. Ryan nodded, no longer able to eat, and grabbed his books from the table and waved goodbye to Sandy as he made his way out of the door. Sandy leaned over and gave Kirsten a kiss goodbye before whistling to himself as he went up to change for work.
And whom do you fly with?
When you break out the day?
Whom do you cry with?
Whose wings do you steal?
To whom should I write?
"Well, you are in a good mood this morning," Rachel commented as Sandy entered his office to find her sitting there. Sandy just laughed.
"And why shouldn't I be? It's a gorgeous morning in beautiful, sunny California, and it's a Friday," Sandy said placing his briefcase on his desk.
"You had sex last night," Rachel said pointing an accusatory finger in Sandy's direction. He just laughed once again and smiled. Things were still slightly awkward between him and Rachel ever since the night that he had left her sitting in his office while he ran to catch the yacht and apologize to Kirsten for being an ass. Thanksgiving hadn't exactly gone as planned. He had wanted Rachel to hit it off with Jimmy and then wash his hands of her. That hadn't exactly happened. Instead he spent the night holding Kirsten's hair back as she threw up the ten glasses of wine and four margaritas that she had imbibed. He had helped her into bed and placed a bowl next to her as he went to sort through the rubble that was left downstairs. Rachel was long gone by that point, choosing to make her exit when Sandy had run after the fleeing, nauseous Kirsten.
Needless to say, Sandy wasn't sure of exactly where they stood. Were they friends? Did Rachel still want to be more? Sandy certainly didn't want more. He and Kirsten were finally past their "rut" as it had been dubbed, and things were calm and settled around the Cohen household. Ryan seemed to finally be accepting his place in the family and finally realizing that he wasn't going to go anywhere. Sandy wanted to change the subject, and breathed a sigh of relief when it was Rachel who changed it for him.
"There's someone here to see you. He's been waiting for at least a half-hour," she told him standing from his chair and heading towards the door. "Should I send him in?"
"Who is he?" Sandy asked looking down at his calendar. Except for the meeting in twenty minutes, he really had nothing booked for the afternoon. Rachel shrugged.
"His first name is Dave; he didn't say his last name. He's about your age, blue eyes, blond hair? Ringing any bells?" Sandy's eyes instinctively shifted to the photograph on his desk. It was the Christmakkah card, the four sitting on the hearth in their house, Kirsten leaning up against him, and Ryan and Seth smiling with the stockings, four in total, behind them. It was his favorite picture, outweighing even the professional ones taken at the many functions that his wife dragged their family to. Blond hair. Blue eyes.
Dave Atwood.
"Send him in," Sandy finally managed to say. What was Dave Atwood doing here? Wasn't he supposed to be in prison? Sandy had looked at his record, he wasn't supposed to be out yet. Right?
"We have that meeting in twenty minutes," Rachel reminded him as she left his office. Sandy ran a hand through his hair. A minute later a man, who looked so much like his son it was actually creepy, walked into Sandy's office. Sandy buttoned his jacket and stood.
"You Sandy Cohen?" Dave asked. Sandy was happy to see that he wasn't in a jumpsuit. Dave was wearing a worn suit and a tie.
"Yes? And you are?"
"Dave Atwood. Listen, Dawn said that you're taking care of my kid." Well, Dave certainly didn't beat around the bush like his son.
"Mr. Atwood, please sit," Sandy motioned to the chairs. If Dave was going to be blunt, then Sandy would be blunt as well. "Are you out on parole? Because I have to know right now if I'm harboring a fugitive." Dave shook his head.
"I'm out on good behavior. Too many guys, not enough room in the prisons, so my parole came up a little early," Dave shrugged. "So Ryan? He staying with you?"
"Yes," Sandy answered finally taking a seat in his chair. Dave was settled across from him.
"That's what Dawn said. That his 'do-good lawyer' had him and he was up here living the good life." Dave looked around the office appreciatively. "Is he...is he doing all right?" Sandy nodded.
"He's doing great," he told him honestly. "He's getting great grades at school, and joined the soccer team. He had a job, but my wife and I felt that it was best for him to focus on school work during the year and then when summer came he could work again."
"Yeah, that's good. He was always a smart kid. Do you have a picture of him? I mean, I haven't seen him since I was....since he was eight." Sandy picked up two of the frames sitting on his desk. The Chrismakkah card was the first and the second was of Kirsten and the boys. It was taken outside at the party for her father's birthday. Kirsten, laughing, was leaning against a grinning Seth, but her head was turned to Ryan who was also laughing. Her arm was outstretched and her hand rested on his arm. They didn't even know that Sandy had taken the picture. And they really didn't know that it was framed and sitting on his desk. He handed the two frames to Dave who took both in his hands.
"The woman is my wife, Kirsten, and the kid with the goofy smile is our son Seth, and then is Ryan, of course."
"He looks almost the same," Dave said smiling. "Only he looks happy." He ran his finger over the photograph of Ryan again. "You have a beautiful family." Dave handed the pictures back to Sandy. "I just came here...I just wanted to see...I just wanted to make sure that he was okay." Dave stood up and adjusted his tie nervously. "Thank you for, well, for everything. Thanks for meeting with me."
"Listen, Dave," Sandy said standing. He didn't know if this was a bad idea, but he was going with it. "If Ryan's okay with it, why don't you come over for dinner?" Dave smiled.
"That would be great," he said nodding. Sandy handed him a card with his phone number on it.
"Call me later today and I'll let you know what Ryan says," Sandy told him.
"Okay, thanks," Dave said and he pocketed the card and disappeared from the office leaving Sandy's head reeling. Was that a bad idea? He could always take it back. He could always just say that Ryan wasn't comfortable with seeing his father again after all these years. But would that be fair to Ryan? What if he did want to see Dave?
He knew that he had very little time before his meeting, but he needed to call the one person who kept him sane. He picked up his phone and dialed the number that was so familiar to him. His wife picked up on the third ring.
"Sandy?"
"Kirsten. I don't have time to explain now, but I'll call you back after my meeting."
"Okay," Kirsten sounded confused. He couldn't blame her. "Why'd you call now then?" Sandy sighed.
"I just needed to hear your voice."
Whose smile do you ride on?
While you're walking alone?
And whom do you think of
When the night is your home?
Sandy sank into his chair after the meeting and dialed Kirsten back.
"Can we meet for lunch?" He asked.
"We haven't done that very much since you started your big fancy job," Kirsten said teasingly.
"I know, but I need to talk to you," he said. "I'll come pick you up. An hour?"
"That's fine," Kirsten told him. "I'll see you then." She paused. "Sandy?"
"Yeah?"
"You okay?" He hesitated for a moment and picked up on it right away.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I'll see you in an hour?"
"Okay. I love you." He smiled.
"I love you too." He hung up and sighed.
Is there nothing that breaks you?
No thought for the dead?
And whom should I think of
When closing the door?
He arrived at Kirsten's office an hour later. She finished up the document that she was working on and grabbed her purse and jacket. Sandy stood leaning against her door watching her. Kirsten was amazed at the change in her husband from that morning. When she had left he looked relaxed and happy, and the man standing in her doorway looked as if he had aged quite a bit in the past three hours.
She crossed over to him and wrapped her arms around him. He returned the hug, grateful for it, and kissed her forehead and closed his eyes as he leaned his forehead against hers.
"Let's go," he said taking her hand in his as they left the office. They drove in silence to the Crab Shack and grabbed a table near the corner where it was a little quieter.
"What's the matter Sandy?" She asked.
"Ryan's father came to see me this morning," he told her. She gasped.
"The one that's supposed to be in jail?"
"Parole," Sandy explained. "He wanted to see how he was doing. I...I invited him over for dinner, Kirsten. Providing, of course, that it was what Ryan wanted." She had a look of shock etched on her face as he had expected.
"You did what?"
"I invited him over for dinner. It seemed the right idea at the time."
"Because it's common practice to invite the felon father of our foster son over for a polite meal?"
"Kirsten...if Ryan wants to see him, I think that we should have him over for dinner. Let Ryan see him again on his own turf." She seemed to be thinking it over in her head because she was silent for a few minutes. Sandy shifted in his seat expectantly.
"We won't pressure him into anything that he doesn't want to do," Kirsten finally said. "If Ryan says no, then the answer is no. If he wants to see his father, then fine, you're right, it should be at our house where we can protect him." Sandy nodded, reaching across the table to take her slender hand in his.
"I love you, do you know that?" He said softly.
"I know," she gave him a small smile. "We'll talk to him after school today." Sandy nodded. "I'm serious Sandy. It's completely up to him. If he doesn't want to see him, then he doesn't. Understand?"
"I understand," he said after a minute. Kirsten knew him too well. She knew that Sandy felt that Ryan should talk to his father and would have pushed Ryan into seeing him. She knew that Sandy would push Ryan until he saw his way; he had done it to her too many times before. Sandy was quite persuasive when he wanted to be. It made him the great lawyer that he was.
Yeah, whom should I think of?
Which smile should I ride on?
To whom should I write?
Sandy decided to talk to Ryan that night. Seth was babbling about some game on X-Box, and Ryan was nodding, not really listening to the words coming out of Seth's mouth, but was at least pretending for Seth's benefit. Sandy was pretty sure that Seth would keep talking even if Ryan wasn't pretending to listen. Seth just liked to make noise was what it came down to.
"Ryan? Can I talk to you in the kitchen?"
"Dude, what did you do?" Seth asked looking from his father to his pseudo brother. "And Dad, if this is about the pool filter, let me be the first to defend Ryan and tell you that I take full responsibility for that."
"Ryan's not in trouble, we just need to talk," Sandy said as Ryan stood and followed him into the kitchen. Sandy poked his head back around the corner to focus his eyes on Seth. "But we will be talking about that pool thing later." Ryan took a seat on one of the stools and noticed that Sandy had set out three cups of coffee. Sandy always made coffee when something was wrong. He felt that things could be more calmly and rationally discussed if each person was clutching something hot in their hands.
Kirsten hurried in and dropped her briefcase on the table and shrugged out of her jacket as she gave Sandy a kiss hello. She spotted the mugs and knew that Sandy hadn't started the talk yet without her.
"So what did you want to talk about?" Ryan asked curious as to why they wanted to speak to him. Sandy had decided blunt was the best option.
"Your father came to see me today. He's out on parole." Sandy let that information sink in before continuing. "He wants to see you. We were thinking that if you wanted to see him too, we'd have him over for dinner. That way we're here to protect you and it's somewhere where you feel safe." Ryan was silent for a few minutes, and it was finally Kirsten who spoke up.
"Honey, is that something that you want to do? Do you want to see him?" She asked the question gently. "Because you don't have to. And if you want to, that's fine too. It's totally up to you. Whatever you decide is what we'll go with." He seemed to think her words over, and Sandy could see the wheels working in his head. They both waited silently for Ryan to reply. He said it softly, so softly that Sandy almost didn't hear him and register the words, but a second later Ryan repeated them, more forcefully and louder the second time.
"I would like to see him."
To whom should I write?
To whom should I write?
Okay, there's the first chapter, please review and let me know what you think so far. Cause that would be awesome! And you're all awesome people!