Happy Christmas
Dec. 18th, 2006 02:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
r_vecchioRay hadn’t cried in a long, long time. It had come so easy back then, like someone had stuck a hose pipe in his chest and turned on the tap. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He’d stood beside Stella’s bed, watching her lie there, until she had sighed and demanded he leave. That’s when it had started. A couple of hours after they’d heard the news.
He’d never really seen Stella when she’d been in hospital after that. Some days she’d even requested that the nurses don’t let him into her room. A little under two weeks she was kept in for observation, longer than most similar cases, and the times when he wasn’t allowed to see her, he’d sit outside in the Chevy and think. And it was then that his thoughts and feelings used to tumble out.
And now, just over five months since it had all begun, he was dangerously close to letting those emotions loose again.
He was sat at the kitchen table, the phone receiver still in his hand. The low, thrumming dialling tone was faint and seemed crackly, as if from a distance. Stella had rung off, probably dropped the phone back in her purse and continued with her day.
When she had called him, he’d been more than surprised. He hadn’t known what to say at first, just listened to her talk, taking nothing in. Eight weeks of silence. To shatter that with one phone call; it was enough to knock Ray speechless. When he regained control of his brain, introduced it to his ears, he was finally able to hear what she was saying.
“…certificates. I’ve sorted them out, they only needed one signature because h- They only needed my signature. And confirmation from the hospital. I’ve also organized a plaque, that should be ready within a couple of days.” She sighed. “I didn’t know whether you’d want to know but I thought I’d call anyway. I have to go no-”
“Woah, woah, wait, what? You’ve what?”
“I’ve done it all. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“What?” Ray frowned, and continued pacing around the kitchen. “Certificates? Plaques? I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about, Stel.”
There was a long pause before Stella returned to the line.
“Birth and death certificates. They needed to be filed a while ago. The hospital called me and told me I could have a plaque made…It’s all done.”
Ray stopped halfway back to the refrigerator and blinked at the cupboard door. There was a silence that seemed to last a lifetime.
“And when were you planning on including me in this?” His voice was sharp and he took a deep breath, letting the air calm the feelings rising in his chest.
More silence. “I’ve told you now, Ray.” Her voice matched his own, but somehow she always seemed to be able to inflict an annoyance in her tone.
Ray didn’t even bother to point out the fact that telling him after she’d done it all was beside the point.
“What did you havta do?”
Stella sighed again and Ray heard rustling on her end. “I haven’t got time for this right now. I’m in court in…an hour, Ray. I have to go.”
“No.” Ray’d had enough of Stella brushing him off like that. He’d had to wait two months for her to even call him. He wasn’t about to let her hang up after two minutes.
“You’re gonna stay here and you are gonna tell me about this, Stella. You gotta.” His anger was easily noticeable. “So start talking, okay. Talk to me.”
“Ra-” She seemed to contemplate it for a second before clearing her throat, resigned. “What do you want to know?” She made it clear that she wasn’t happy about doing this, here, now, at all.
“Everything. What- I mean, what did you do. The certificates. What did you havta do?”
“Fill in names. His, yours, mine. That’s it.”
Ray gaped at the floor. His name? They hadn’t even decided on a name for him yet. How could she fill in the paperwork when they hadn’t chosen one together? He shifted on his feet, speaking carefully.
“And what did you put?”
“His name. My name. Your name. I just told you. Don’t worry,” she said sharply, “I put you down as the father.”
Ray felt a stabbing pang in his gut and swallowed dryly. “…And his name? How could you write that? We hadn’t even-”
“I handled it. It’s over now.”
“Stella-” His voice was low and dark, as he forced out the words. “What did you write?”
“…Ray-”
“What did you write, Stella?”
“It’s really not-”
“What the fuck did you write down?!”
“…Ethan Kowalski…”
Ray had to clench his teeth to stop the ache from overwhelming him. It hit him like a ten ton truck, full force, head on. His breathing became a little ragged and he clung to the phone, squeezing it until the blood in his hand began to boil.
Ethan Kowalski.
His skin felt tight across his face, like it was being pulled in two different directions.
Kowalski? Stella had called his son Ethan Kowalski.
Ray tried hard to keep his voice level, but he could feel his breaths waver as his throat constricted.
“Kowalski?” He couldn’t understand it. He had no coherent thoughts, no way to explain his confusion. “But I was his father,” he said simply, quietly, the anger making it sound hard and gravelly.
“I’m not disputing that fact.” She stated it, like it was the most evident thing in the world.
“Then how could you-”
“We never married.”
“You’re not married to him anymore either!”
“I kept the name.”
“Fuck, Stella. That’s not-” Each word was accompanied by a rough pant. “That’s not his name, Stel.” There was a hint of desperation hidden beneath the rage.
Ray had vetoed Ethan right away. It was too upper-class for him, too chic. Stella had liked it but they had agreed that they should choose the name together to make sure they were both happy with it. That was before they lost him. He’d never been named. Not by the both of them. And now Stella was telling him she’d gone ahead and called him Ethan Kowalski. When did Ray fit into any of it?
“Well, one of us had to do it. And you weren’t here.” She sounded tough. To the point. Was she really not feeling anything here?
“…So you’re punishing me for leaving?!”
“I’m not punishing anyone. I’m telling you the facts. One of us had to name him. So I did. Birth certificate. Death certificate. Plaque. It’s not a big deal, Ray.”
“Not a big deal?!” Ray hadn’t moved since she’d mentioned the signatures. But now he swung around, slamming the palm of his free hand into the stone wall. It was jagged and it certainly wasn’t comfortable but it didn’t draw any blood. “That not his name!”
“I didn’t call to argue, Ray.” She slipped easily into her lawyer mode. “As far as I am concerned, and everybody else for that matter, his name was Ethan Kowalski. I have to go.” Only a beat of silence went by this time before Stella spoke up again, as if his words had had no affect on her at all. “Happy Christmas.”
“Stella!” Ray was yelling down the phone by now, his hand grasping the cool stone in a deathly grip. “Do not hang up! That’s not his name! Stella?! Tha- Stel?!”
He received nothing in return save the dialling tone.
And so he’d sat at the table, and stared at the phone. He was trying to keep what he was feeling inside, lock it down, but the more he stared, the more he felt like he was back in the Chevy, sitting outside the hospital, having his heart ripped to pieces. He shook slightly at the memory. And the shock.
Happy Christmas.
Ray bit his lip. That was her present to him. She’d chosen his son’s name. That wasn’t his name.
Joseph Raymond Vecchio.
That was his name.
But only to Ray. So now everyone knew his son to be a Kowalski.
He rubbed at his eyes when they began to sting, dropping the receiver carelessly onto the table. He closed them when the burn got too much, a bitter smile gracing his salty lips.
His life, his partner, his heart, his son.
What else did he have left to lose to a Kowalski?
It was a vague notion that soon got washed away as he bowed his head, letting the confines of his mind give way, one more time, to a flood of feeling.
He’d never really seen Stella when she’d been in hospital after that. Some days she’d even requested that the nurses don’t let him into her room. A little under two weeks she was kept in for observation, longer than most similar cases, and the times when he wasn’t allowed to see her, he’d sit outside in the Chevy and think. And it was then that his thoughts and feelings used to tumble out.
And now, just over five months since it had all begun, he was dangerously close to letting those emotions loose again.
He was sat at the kitchen table, the phone receiver still in his hand. The low, thrumming dialling tone was faint and seemed crackly, as if from a distance. Stella had rung off, probably dropped the phone back in her purse and continued with her day.
When she had called him, he’d been more than surprised. He hadn’t known what to say at first, just listened to her talk, taking nothing in. Eight weeks of silence. To shatter that with one phone call; it was enough to knock Ray speechless. When he regained control of his brain, introduced it to his ears, he was finally able to hear what she was saying.
“…certificates. I’ve sorted them out, they only needed one signature because h- They only needed my signature. And confirmation from the hospital. I’ve also organized a plaque, that should be ready within a couple of days.” She sighed. “I didn’t know whether you’d want to know but I thought I’d call anyway. I have to go no-”
“Woah, woah, wait, what? You’ve what?”
“I’ve done it all. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“What?” Ray frowned, and continued pacing around the kitchen. “Certificates? Plaques? I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about, Stel.”
There was a long pause before Stella returned to the line.
“Birth and death certificates. They needed to be filed a while ago. The hospital called me and told me I could have a plaque made…It’s all done.”
Ray stopped halfway back to the refrigerator and blinked at the cupboard door. There was a silence that seemed to last a lifetime.
“And when were you planning on including me in this?” His voice was sharp and he took a deep breath, letting the air calm the feelings rising in his chest.
More silence. “I’ve told you now, Ray.” Her voice matched his own, but somehow she always seemed to be able to inflict an annoyance in her tone.
Ray didn’t even bother to point out the fact that telling him after she’d done it all was beside the point.
“What did you havta do?”
Stella sighed again and Ray heard rustling on her end. “I haven’t got time for this right now. I’m in court in…an hour, Ray. I have to go.”
“No.” Ray’d had enough of Stella brushing him off like that. He’d had to wait two months for her to even call him. He wasn’t about to let her hang up after two minutes.
“You’re gonna stay here and you are gonna tell me about this, Stella. You gotta.” His anger was easily noticeable. “So start talking, okay. Talk to me.”
“Ra-” She seemed to contemplate it for a second before clearing her throat, resigned. “What do you want to know?” She made it clear that she wasn’t happy about doing this, here, now, at all.
“Everything. What- I mean, what did you do. The certificates. What did you havta do?”
“Fill in names. His, yours, mine. That’s it.”
Ray gaped at the floor. His name? They hadn’t even decided on a name for him yet. How could she fill in the paperwork when they hadn’t chosen one together? He shifted on his feet, speaking carefully.
“And what did you put?”
“His name. My name. Your name. I just told you. Don’t worry,” she said sharply, “I put you down as the father.”
Ray felt a stabbing pang in his gut and swallowed dryly. “…And his name? How could you write that? We hadn’t even-”
“I handled it. It’s over now.”
“Stella-” His voice was low and dark, as he forced out the words. “What did you write?”
“…Ray-”
“What did you write, Stella?”
“It’s really not-”
“What the fuck did you write down?!”
“…Ethan Kowalski…”
Ray had to clench his teeth to stop the ache from overwhelming him. It hit him like a ten ton truck, full force, head on. His breathing became a little ragged and he clung to the phone, squeezing it until the blood in his hand began to boil.
Ethan Kowalski.
His skin felt tight across his face, like it was being pulled in two different directions.
Kowalski? Stella had called his son Ethan Kowalski.
Ray tried hard to keep his voice level, but he could feel his breaths waver as his throat constricted.
“Kowalski?” He couldn’t understand it. He had no coherent thoughts, no way to explain his confusion. “But I was his father,” he said simply, quietly, the anger making it sound hard and gravelly.
“I’m not disputing that fact.” She stated it, like it was the most evident thing in the world.
“Then how could you-”
“We never married.”
“You’re not married to him anymore either!”
“I kept the name.”
“Fuck, Stella. That’s not-” Each word was accompanied by a rough pant. “That’s not his name, Stel.” There was a hint of desperation hidden beneath the rage.
Ray had vetoed Ethan right away. It was too upper-class for him, too chic. Stella had liked it but they had agreed that they should choose the name together to make sure they were both happy with it. That was before they lost him. He’d never been named. Not by the both of them. And now Stella was telling him she’d gone ahead and called him Ethan Kowalski. When did Ray fit into any of it?
“Well, one of us had to do it. And you weren’t here.” She sounded tough. To the point. Was she really not feeling anything here?
“…So you’re punishing me for leaving?!”
“I’m not punishing anyone. I’m telling you the facts. One of us had to name him. So I did. Birth certificate. Death certificate. Plaque. It’s not a big deal, Ray.”
“Not a big deal?!” Ray hadn’t moved since she’d mentioned the signatures. But now he swung around, slamming the palm of his free hand into the stone wall. It was jagged and it certainly wasn’t comfortable but it didn’t draw any blood. “That not his name!”
“I didn’t call to argue, Ray.” She slipped easily into her lawyer mode. “As far as I am concerned, and everybody else for that matter, his name was Ethan Kowalski. I have to go.” Only a beat of silence went by this time before Stella spoke up again, as if his words had had no affect on her at all. “Happy Christmas.”
“Stella!” Ray was yelling down the phone by now, his hand grasping the cool stone in a deathly grip. “Do not hang up! That’s not his name! Stella?! Tha- Stel?!”
He received nothing in return save the dialling tone.
And so he’d sat at the table, and stared at the phone. He was trying to keep what he was feeling inside, lock it down, but the more he stared, the more he felt like he was back in the Chevy, sitting outside the hospital, having his heart ripped to pieces. He shook slightly at the memory. And the shock.
Happy Christmas.
Ray bit his lip. That was her present to him. She’d chosen his son’s name. That wasn’t his name.
Joseph Raymond Vecchio.
That was his name.
But only to Ray. So now everyone knew his son to be a Kowalski.
He rubbed at his eyes when they began to sting, dropping the receiver carelessly onto the table. He closed them when the burn got too much, a bitter smile gracing his salty lips.
His life, his partner, his heart, his son.
What else did he have left to lose to a Kowalski?
It was a vague notion that soon got washed away as he bowed his head, letting the confines of his mind give way, one more time, to a flood of feeling.
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Re: OOC
Date: 2006-12-23 11:23 pm (UTC)Okay, I really am going now! :D
*slinks off, holding her head*
Re: OOC
Date: 2006-12-28 02:05 pm (UTC)In the meantime, feel free to let Ray carry on as if no one has her for the time being. Hopefully by the end of Jan I should have things back under control and ready to get going again.
And damnit! *looks at comment below* Just when things look like they're going to get interesting for Ray! *resists having Ren friend the Bookman, because I just don't have the time to play* *pouts*
Um, is that a good thing? The soon to be ex husband thing? I guess it is since you'd be able to marry Turnbull!!
Its a good thing. Especially as, yes, Dean McDermott can dump Tori and come marry me now ;P A good thing in the long run, but right now I'm getting a little dizzy not knowing what pressing matter to deal with next. Eh, it'll pass and I have Turnbull to pamper me....