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WHAT
YOU HAVE
When Ryan was just a kid, one of his mom's boyfriends gave him a necklace. It was just at thin band of leather to wear around his neck, but he hasn't taken it off for years.
Lewis wasn't with Dawn for all that long, but he cared about Ryan enough to be important. Enough that Ryan could always touch the memory of him when he needed it, and that counted, when worst came to worst. It counted to know that when the chips were down, Lewis would be there if he could. And sure, it wouldn't be permanent, but it'd be a place to go. A dry roof, beer and pizza for at least a week and probably a list of jobs hiring left on the kitchen counter for Ryan to find.
When he showed up at the sites, he'd be able to say somebody sent him. Somebody they knew, and they'd nod and say, "Oh, you must be the Atwood kid." Or maybe not Atwood, 'cause it's not like his dad's name ever did him any good, but - something that showed he was known. That someone knew about him.
Knew enough to tell the foremen that Ryan was a good carpenter but shitty as hell at plumbing, and Lewis was honest enough to put it just like that, too. It wasn't like Lewis was perfect, because he wasn't. But he remembered Ryan's birthday at least as often as Ryan's mom did.
Ryan had been nine when Lewis and his mom started dating. Lewis was huge, and Ryan watched his hands, worrying what it would feel like to have those come down hard. They never did. Instead Lewis ruffled his hair, and shared a beer with Ryan on the steps of the trailer. Ryan wasn't supposed to have beer - and his mom yelled at Ryan, not Lewis, when she found out.
Lewis said, "Take it easy, Dawnie. It's not like he doesn't see you doing worse. Leave the kid alone." And she sort of blinked and went back inside and Lewis winked at Ryan and said, "I've got your back, buddy."
But Lewis wasn't meant for living with anyone else. And he knew it, which is why he always dated women like Ryan's mom. The women came and went over the years, but whenever things got really bad, Ryan always knew he could go to Lewis'. No matter who else was there.
Once, when Ryan was thirteen, Lewis threw a woman out who got drunk and hit on him when she thought Ryan wasn't looking. "She's no good anyway," he told Ryan with a smile. "You're just a kid, and 'sides, if she's not happy with what she's got, then she can go find something else, right?"
Ryan, who was over at Lewis' for exactly that reason, had nodded and sipped at his half of the beer. He was never happy with what he had, but his something better had to come out and find him. First Lewis, then Sandy. Except Sandy doesn't date women like Dawn. Doesn't want to be alone, doesn't let people go when they do something wrong. It's different. And maybe it's disloyal, but as Ryan picks at his dinner and watches Sandy explain something to a bored Seth, Ryan thinks this is better.
There's no beer in the Cohen's house, only wine, and Ryan doesn't think Sandy's about to suggest they crack open a bottle of merlot on the front lawn. But he reminds Ryan of Lewis sometimes - the way he teases Kirsten, and the way he's all easy going even when nobody else around him is. Something about the way Sandy can sit back and watch people without seeming like he's judging them. Lewis was like that too. Or maybe it's because Ryan knows neither one is going to let him slide just because they like him. Either way Sandy makes Ryan feel more comfortable than he has since Lewis packed up all his loud Hawaiian shirts and left. Ryan knows that Sandy's not going anywhere, knows that Sandy's got his back - and Seth, too.
Because this, unlike Lewis' place, is a house built to *last*. The Cohens are all about permanence, about belonging, and Lewis was more like borrowing. This might be something Ryan can *keep*.
Sandy turns to Kirsten for support, and Ryan watches her catch Seth's eye and try not to laugh, and he doesn't think that anything better is going to come and find him this time. Because this time he might actually be around for long enough to be happy with what he has.
He wonders what Lewis would think of them, or what they'd think of Lewis, and runs his fingers over the thin leather band around his neck. "Now, you look cool," Lewis told him with a crooked grin, laughing when Ryan stood up taller. "All grown up and not even ten. You'll go places, kid." And when Ryan around the table, he thinks maybe, he already has.
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