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Sounds. He hears them. Crunching. Popping. Skidding. Screaming. Sirens.
He doesn’t remember the feeling, but he remembers the sounds. Similar and yet so distinct from the last time. This time the sounds don’t end with the crash. They continue around him even if he doesn’t know where around him. No silence this time.
It’s a cruel fate that just as he’s stopped wishing it were him on graduation night, another car runs him off the road granting his long dormant wish.
He remembers seeing her face, not like it was in his arms but in the pool that night. Her smile, radiant and glowing for the first time in months. So close he wants to reach out and touch it and tell it’s ok.
–
The third time Sandy Cohen gets a call that his son is in the hospital in critical condition in just over two years he thinks it must be a joke.
He argues with Kirsten that he’ll take the first shift while she stays with Sophie. He’s closer he says, and they shouldn’t bring Sophie until they know what Ryan is dealing with.
Nobody would tell him what shape Ryan was in or what had happened exactly. Just that there was an accident while he was on his bike and he’s mostly out of the woods, but he sustained a number of serious injuries. There was surgery to stop the bleeding and he’s now awake.
He reaches the room and finds Ryan, one leg up in a casted sling, his left eye black, some cuts and scrapes across his face.
“We really need to stop meeting like this, kid.”
Ryan turns toward him, smiling slightly.
“I have to say I am glad to see you smiling, even if it’s a wince. You really scared us.”
“I thought you’d have figured out by now you can’t get rid of me that easy.”
Sandy takes a seat on the chair next to the bed.
“Kirsten wanted to be here but we thought…”
“No I get it, someone needs to be with Sophie.”
“You’re her hero Ryan. Don’t tell Seth.”
And it’s true. He thinks about the time Ryan spends reading to her, playing with her. He thinks about the fact that less than five years ago neither of them were even a possibility in his mind and now he's a father of three. One of whom is currently in a hospital bed. Again.
Sandy stays as the police come to take Ryan’s statement. He hears every detail Ryan remembers, not much, but enough to make Sandy question when he’ll be able to sleep again. Still, he hides it. Jokes, laughs, uses every Jewish generational trauma trick in the book.
–
Kirsten is less restrained. As soon as she sees Ryan is awake she rushes over, tears flowing down her face, dirty with the trail of eye makeup.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here earlier. Sandy and I didn’t know what shape you were in and didn’t know whether to bring Sophie. I should have been here.”
She’s trying to keep it together. Summoning every maternal instinct to nurture and not let your offspring see you scared. Because she’s terrified. Her son can’t seem to stop finding himself in the hospital.
“Kirsten, it’s ok. I’m fine, I promise.”
His voice is raspy and she starts searching around frantically for the water pitcher. He points to the table across from him.
“You know, being a mother means living in a constant state of fear of calls like these.”
He looks at her like he does sometimes, like he did when he first came into their home. Scared but unable to admit it. Holding the world on his shoulders. This time, though, she thinks he’s doing it for her benefit and not his own self preservation. Trying to be brave for her. A lifetime of shouldering the pain of others.
“But I need you to know that every single second of fear is worth it to have you in our lives. Just like with Seth and Sophie. I am never going to stop being afraid of what life has in store for you but getting to be your mom, that’s the only thing that matters.
Just please promise me you’ll try and be safe so Sandy and I get a few fewer calls, ok?”
Kirsten stays there for a few more hours. Talks with his doctors, gets him food, but mostly she sits there in silence with him, hoping he’ll rest and unable to rest herself until he does.
–
Theresa sends an email. Kirsten told her and she says how sorry she is to hear about the accident but glad he’s ok (again).
Her mom sends homemade cookies and a prayer card.
–
From Summer he gets a bonsai, the flower industry is apparently brutal on laborers and the environment.
–
Seth sends a carefully curated collection of DVDs, CDs, and comics primed to aid his recovery helpfully entitled, “Cheating Death, Part III”.
–
Sophie comes teetling into the room the second day clutching one of the stuffed animals he got her, Sleep Bear. A teddy bear with a Berkley shirt.
Kirsten sits with her on the edge of the bed and holds a book for him to read to her.
Sometimes he can’t believe she’ll grow up knowing him only as her brother. He loves the look she gets when she sees him and that she’s always eager to sit on his lap and have him read to her. That way she finishes a book and immediately she goes to grab another one, thrusting it towards him.
When Kirsten leaves with her she waives and he thinks that somehow maybe a one year old is his favorite person. He files that one away to never tell Seth.
–
Dawn arrives on the third day. She looks older and tired and when she sees him she isn’t able to pull out the Newport WASP like Kirsten. Instead, her cries are boisterous and almost comical in size. He tries not to be embarrassed and instead embraces that for once, his mom is there when he needs her.
They’ve been emailing. She knows Frank is out and there’s been contact and he knows that she still sees Trey. He doesn’t fault her for it. He’s her son, afterall, and she withholds any comments about Frank.
She only got the day off from the diner so she’s gone by dinner. But she says she’s saving to come for a week this summer. When she leaves he feels like he often does, conflicted but lighter. He loves his mom and he’s even to a place where he can see her and not immediately be flooded with the anxiety of his past rushing into his lungs. Still, he breathes a little less forcefully when he’s finally alone again. Stops performing happiness and withholding. He gets to wish Kirsten and Sandy were there instead without feeling even more guilt heaped on top at the thought.
–
Frank says he’ll visit soon, he’s on a job for the Bullit.
Unlike with Dawn, he doesn’t feel pressure to fit two dads into his life. Sandy is his dad, Frank is Frank. And it seems to work for both of them.
–
Kaitlin and Julie send flowers. Apparently Summer’s anti-floral industry lobbying efforts failed to reach the tour de force of Julie Cooper.
Kaitlin also sends him a text that says, “Try not to die, I still need someone to buy me beer.”
It is possibly the nicest thing anyone does with the exception of Sophie letting Ryan share her stuffy.
–
A few friends from Berkeley stop by and hang out for a couple hours that night. It feels weird having friends of his own, outside of Seth and Summer, but he realizes how much he’s missed it. Just having people to talk and laugh with. What is normal, really? It’s different for every baseline. Still he likes this generic idea of being a normal 20 something college student. Uncomplicated.
–
There’s still one person missing.
–
She should have worn different shoes. She can hear these slapping against the floor as she paces outside the door to his room.
Instead of going inside she walks down the hall to the bathroom. Her eyes are heavy with tired bags and the makeup she applied to cover them is already worn off.
It’s been more than 48 hours since Seth called in the middle of the night and she guesses she’s slept an hour or two total since then.
She walks back down the hall and creeps toward the door. A nurse must have left it open last time and she wraps her fingers around the frame, the top of her head barely visible from the other side.
He doesn’t see her yet and she silently chides herself again for racing back impulsively. What’s she going to do? They’re broken up. She could have emailed. That’s what friends do. And they’re friends. They’ve almost figured this friends thing out even. They email back and forth weekly. She can still do that. Swallow her pride and walk out and email him from the hotel and then hop the next flight back. It’ll be like she never left. He’s alive. Bruised and hurt, but he’s alive. That’s all she needed to know. That her worst fears hadn’t been confirmed and no one was telling her.
“Taylor?”
Shit.
“Hey, Taylor?”
Too late.
“Hi Ryan, funny running into you here.”
For 48 hours she’s held it together in her own Taylor way. But seeing him, hearing him say her name, hoarse and tired, she thinks she’s either going to break down or make a break for it.
“Taylor.”
His eyes look paler and pleading and suddenly all the tears she hasn't yet shed come spilling out. She can’t help them. Someone else is controlling the switch and in her exhaustion she can’t stop them.
“Hey, come here.”
“Ryan… you’re…” But she still can’t finish the sentence.
He moves his right arm to let her in and she takes the little space on the bed and curls up against him.
“It’s ok. I’m ok. I promise.”
“I thought…” It’s still hard to get it all out. “Seth said accident and hospital and surgery and I think maybe I blacked out after that.”
His chest rises and falls and she slowly steadies herself into a rhythm against it.
“I was so worried and I just booked the next flight and it’s silly. I should have just waited. Silly Taylor always rushing into a plan and never stopping to think about anything. I’m sorry I came. I’m sure you have lots of people waiting to visit. And you need sleep. And here I am just barging in to make myself better when you’re the one in the…” She trails off. Still not able to acknowledge the hospital bed they’re lying on.
He looks at her, his blue eyes never wavering from her own and bites his lower left lip lightly, “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
He nudges over to the left as much as a casted leg and the bed will allow and she nestles further in.
They stay like that for awhile. For once she has nothing to say and doesn’t want to risk losing the equilibrium she’s finally found.
At one point she feels his fingers dancing through her hair, lightly grazing her scalp. She feels his lips lightly meet the top of her head and thinks about meeting his gaze but thinks better of it in the end. A few hours ago she was afraid he was dying and it’s enough right now to just be with him.
Instead she grabs his hand and squeezes it. Maybe she imagines it, but she thinks she feels a slight hitch in his chest before his breathing settles back to normal.
A little while later Kirsten comes in, looking extremely apologetic.
“Taylor! I didn’t know you were here. I’m sorry. I just figured I’d fit in a visit after Sophie fell asleep and before visiting hours ended. But I’ll go. You guys catch up.” There’s such a wholesome smile on Kirsten’s face Taylor wants to hug her.
“No, please, I’ll go grab some air or something. Please. Stay.”
“I’ll just drop some stuff off and stay a few. Taylor, where are you staying? Please stay with us. You can have the boys room.”
“It’s ok, really Mrs. Cohen.”
“Kirsten. And I insist.”
She starts to head off, pausing at the door for a second to make sure she didn’t imagine it. He’s still alive, smiling even as she catches Kirsten’s look at him. A smile she thinks might be about her.
–
Taylor has finally fallen asleep, having badgered the nurses to let her stay overnight, read his charts, discussed physical therapy and rehab and timelines with various doctors, and set up a hospital meal train so that he does not have to, full quote, “subject himself to the subpar and frankly disgusting standards of American hospital food.” She’s twisted herself into a semi circle on the small chair and managed to commandeer a blanket from somewhere.
For the first time since he woke up in the hospital a few days ago he feels a sense of peace.
There’s been a steady stream of guests and calls, doctors, nurses, specialists, and cops. An endless need to entertain and reassure and rehash even when he’s been tired or in pain.
Sandy told him a witness said he was saying someone’s name as he lost consciousness, and he had immediately assumed it was Marissa. He remembered clearly her face there in front of him on the pavement.
Marissa would always be a part of him. There would never be a time that their stories wouldn’t be intertwined, his life as much a reminder of her loss as anything else.
But when he saw Taylor earlier he knew whose name it was. He knew, even barely conscious, the one person he needed more than anyone in that moment. And even if it took years and continents and broken limbs, he was going to keep fighting for her. He couldn’t explain it but his life was better, made sense, with Taylor Townsend in it. And he just needed to give her a reason to never give up on him, either.