Chapter 4

Peter goes home to visit his parents

Thursday, May 3, 2001

 

At nine o’clock this morning, I had thrown together a haphazard suitcase filled with boxers, shorts, t-shirts, and my one good suit.

Driving down to Hartford was only a two-hour drive, but the traffic was unbelievable. I pulled into Hartford around three in the afternoon and stopped by a flower shop. I bought carnations for Mom to go along with the new Michael Kors watch I had gotten her, then drove up a few miles before coming to the manor house.

I parked the car outside the garage and walked around to the front of the manor, where my mother was sitting in a hammock and reading with a glass of lemonade. She looked splendid and young in a casual salmon dress, her shoulder-length brown hair spilling over her bare shoulders, and I walked towards her, my heart racing at the sight of her. She looked up, saw me, and practically spilled lemonade all over herself.

“Oh, Peter!” She hugged me tightly. When she drew away, I gave her the carnations and said, “Happy birthday, Mom.”

“Oh, Peter, thank you.” She smiled at me. “Did you grow even taller? My goodness, there’s no stopping you, is there?” She laughed lightly, and I realized it sounded like Rachael’s laugh. I smiled to myself.

“Nah, Mom, I don’t think I’m growing. But you look fabulous, as ever.” She smiled, pleased at the compliment, then wrapped her arm around my waist.

“Let’s go inside, honey; Drew is home too.”

I perked up. “Drew’s already here?”

Mom smiled. “Yeah, why don’t you go in first and greet him? I’m going to finish up my lemonade and I’ll be right behind you.”

“Okay.” She gave me another hug, patted me on the cheek, and I ran inside, eager to see Drew.

I found him in one of the guest rooms, talking quickly on his cell phone. He saw me, and his eyes got wide, and soon he was wrapping up the call.

“All right, so make a copy of the invoice and keep the extra parts in the storage; I’ll pay the company as soon as I get back. All right, see you Monday.” He flipped his phone shut, and started walking toward me, laughing. “Peter! It’s great to see you.” He thumped me on the back, hard, and we began catching up. How was his company doing, which class did I like the most, how was Julie, his wife, and how was two-year-old daughter Lucy, had I met anyone special.

I told him about Rachael, and he started, surprised. “Good for you, Pete. It’s been a while since you’ve been serious about a girl, ever since�"what was her name?”

“Mackenzie.” Mackenzie had been my girlfriend in high school, and she had led me to believe that we could run away and elope or something�"but that was before I found out that she had been cheating all along.

“Yeah, well, screw her, man. This Rachael seems nice. Did you bring her home to meet Mom?”

I shook my head. “Nah, I only met her a week ago. Besides, it’s Mom’s birthday; it’s not like some holiday like Thanksgiving or Christmas where it seems appropriate.”

Drew nodded, understanding. “All right, well, congratulations, little bro.” He clapped me on the back again.

From the dining room, we heard Mom shout, “Come on, boys, come over here and get ready to eat.”

Drew and I made our way to the dining table, where places had been set up for six people. Julie and Lucy were already there. Julie saw me, and we exchanged greetings. It had been so long since I’d seen Drew that I didn’t realize Lucy was already so big. She called me “Unco Pete” and I smiled, glad to have a fan.

I nodded to Nelly, the cook, and Edith, our maid, and took my seat at the table across from Julie. I shot Drew a glance, nodding to the empty seat at the head of the table. “Is Dad here?”

Drew looked at the empty seat and shrugged. “He said he would try to be. I guess something came up.” Drew was more understanding than I was; he seemed to sympathize with our father. But if Drew was able to make time for his family, I couldn’t see why my father wasn’t able to �" especially on Mom’s birthday.

“All right, dinner is served!” Mom came in balancing a heaping plate of chicken, while Nelly came bustling out with vegetables and potatoes.

“Thank you, Nelly,” Mom said as she carefully set down the platter in the center of the table.

“Of course, Mrs. Clark.” Nelly smiled appreciatively. She turned to Drew and me and winked, saying “It’s great to see you two troublemakers again.” Drew laughed and rose from his seat to hug her. I did the same, grateful for the familiar faces; Nelly had been with us since Drew was being potty-trained.

Sorry. That was an unpleasant image.

Anyway, we gathered around the table and ate festively, with Mom chattering with Julie about her job as a pediatrician. I talked with Drew, catching up and reminiscing. Lucy shoveled food in her mouth, eating determinedly as her mother chatted with mine and wiped Lucy’s face clean every few minutes. But there was a noticeable hole, and I couldn’t help but feel that I was already tired of waiting for my father to come around, and Mom had been married to him for thirty-three years. How long had she been waiting for him?

We finished dinner quickly, and Nelly and Edith began clearing the table as we gravitated towards the sitting room. We opened a bottle of wine and everyone had a glass. Drew and I carefully monitored Mom, who was known to drink a little too much sometimes, but she seemed more interested in talking. Drew talked about his company, which was just starting to boom. He had come up with the idea of creating an auto-focus function that would be universally available on all cameras, but his board of directors was fighting him on the idea. But Panasonic was slowly pulling ahead in the electronics industry, and Drew was probably rolling in money (though he didn’t say so).

I talked about college, about U Albany, about diving, about Coach Kipp and his suggestion to try out for the Olympic team, and about Rachael. Mom was instantly intrigued, and insisted I bring her over sometime so she could meet her.

The chatter had started to dwindle, and as Julie and Lucy departed to the bathroom to change Lucy’s diaper, the rest of us milled around with our wine glasses in hand.

The doorbell rang, and Edith hurried to the front door to greet our guest. Drew shot me a look; was it him?

“Hello, Edith, good to see you.” A deep baritone voice, full of authority, cut through the silence.

“And you too, Mr. Clark. Let me take your bags.”

I clenched my jaw, my stomach twisting. My father walked into the room, dressed in a full suit and a navy tie, as he handed his impeccably organized briefcase to Edith to take to his study. Since the last time I had seen him, he had lost weight; his once jet-black hair was turning grey, and the skin under his eyes was shadowy and pinched. But his eyes were the same: brilliant blue, like my own, but smaller, and exceedingly alert, as if he was perpetually suspicious.

He saw Drew first, and his drawn face broke out into a wide smile. “Drew!” He walked over to my brother and clapped him firmly on the back. “How’s the business?”

Drew cleared his throat. “Great, Dad. I was just telling Mom about how the company might be trying out a new idea.” My father patted him approvingly, then turned to Mom.

He kissed her quickly, murmured “Happy birthday,” and looked up, as if he had just noticed that I was in the room.

“Oh. Peter. I didn’t know you were coming down.” He didn’t offer his hand or try to approach me. Smart of him.

Drew gave me a look from behind his back that said something like, “If you act like a prick then Mom’s going to disown you.”

I kept my voice even. “Yeah, well, it’s Mom’s birthday. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“How’s college?”

I gritted my teeth. “Okay. It’s going well. The diving coach thinks I might be cut out for the Olympics.”

“Your mother tells me you’re failing Physics. I thought that was your best subject.” His tone wasn’t accusing, but somewhat mocking and disappointed.

I flushed. “Right, well, the tests are difficult.”

My father shook his head, disapproving, and opened his mouth to speak, probably to tell me once again that U Albany wasn’t good enough, when Nelly walked into the room, holding an enormous birthday cake with white and pink frosting and fifty-five lit candles.

Mom gasped, as did the rest of us. Julie and Lucy slipped back into the room, and Lucy exclaimed, “Cake!” We all laughed.

After a very out of tune rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Mom blew out all fifty-five candles in one breath, and we all clapped accordingly. Nelly proceeded to cut small slices for cake for everyone (Lucy insisted on two slices) and we all ate in the sitting room, eating quietly. Nelly offered my father a slice of cake, but he shook his head and asked her to bring him a whiskey. Nelly nodded obligingly and hurried away.

No one spoke for a moment, until my father decided to address Julie, asking her about what it was like to be working with children all day. Drew and I finished quickly and excused ourselves, making our way to another room. Once my father was out of earshot, I began talking quickly and quietly. “I can’t believe he thinks he can just show up here and pretend to care about how we’re doing. Why did he come, anyway? It’s not like he even remembered it was Mom’s birthday; his secretary probably told him or something.”

“I did,” Drew piped up. He stopped, and I stopped as well, turning to face him. “Look, Peter, you can’t hold a grudge forever. He’s making an effort: talking to me about work, talking to Julie about her job. He even asked you about school. At least he’s trying to care.”

“He’s trying to look like he cares, but he doesn’t. How can you side with him?”

Drew sighed. “Pete, there aren’t sides in this, okay? We’re family. We accept each other for who we are.”

I fumed. “Oh really? And is that what he did when you told him that you were going to marry Julie? Did he accept her into the family for who she was?” My voice was rising, and Drew hushed me quickly.

“He had his reasons,” Drew retorted quietly.

“His reasons,” I repeated, unbelieving. “His reasons were that Julie wasn’t good enough for you. That she was too low class. That if you were going to marry a doctor, you had to marry a ‘real’ doctor.”

“I know what he said!” Drew whisper-shouted. “I know what he said.”

I took a breath, trying to calm down. “Look, Drew, he still doesn’t approve. You heard him talking to her back there, asking about the job and the children and how tiring the work was and her salary! He asked her about her salary! What kind of insensitive creep�"”

Footsteps nearby. Edith came into the hallway and jumped, surprised that we were just standing in the hall. “Mr. Clark, Mr. Clark. Why aren’t you in the sitting room?”

Drew spoke up. “We were just going to bed, Edith. Thank you.” She nodded, understanding, and quickly moved along down another hall.

Drew turned back to me. “Peter, I know this upsets you, and I know you’re worried about what Dad will say if you introduce Rachael to him. But you have to at least pretend you like him, or else neither of you will get anywhere.” Drew sighed, rubbing his neck. “Look, it’s been a long day, and I’m really tired. Can we talk about this later?”

I nodded, cooling down. I wish I hadn’t lost my temper with Drew. “Yeah, we’ll talk in the morning or something.”

Drew nodded. “Yeah. All right, well, good night Peter.”

He walked down the hall to his old room, the room we had shared as kids. I went into my own room, exhausted and angry. I sat on the edge of the bed with my cell phone in my hand. I was just about to call Rachael when I heard a knock on my door. “Yeah,” I said.

My father opened the door and stood in the doorway, not bothering to come in. I glanced up, and muttered, “What do you want?”

He sighed. “I want us to get along, Peter. I want to know what’s troubling you.”

I scoffed. “What’s troubling me? Did you even remember that today was Mom’s birthday?”

His brow furrowed. “Of course I did, son. I always do.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t finished. “What about Julie?”

My father hesitated for a moment. Then he began, “Drew and I have an understanding that I believe that a man with his yearly salary and status in society should have an�"well, to put it bluntly, an equally exceptional partner.”

“Drew loves Julie, Dad. And he married her, even though you refused to give your blessing.”

He drew a breath. “That he did. And I admire his guts, even though I still uphold my belief that he could have done much better. Now as for you, Peter,” he added, shifting his weight from one foot to another, “You’ve shown none of the potential that your brother has, and your advantage of being from a wealthy family has gotten you nowhere.”

I clenched my fists, my teeth mashing against each other. “I’m happy where I am, Dad. Thanks for the pep talk. You can go now.”

My father sighed. “Peter, at least accept help when you need it. You’re still living on campus, you can barely pay your own tuition with what meager savings you have, and everything about you says ‘middle-class.’ This is not acceptable, especially as you’re my son. You represent me out there,” he gestured vaguely with his hands, “and you’re not making a good impression.”

I cut him off. “Dad. I don’t need your help. I don’t want your help. I’m here for Mom, and Mom only.” I stood, ready to slam the door in his face, but he had already turned swiftly and began walking away. I closed the door, locked it, and lay on my bed, still fully dressed. I had wanted to call Rachael before, but now I felt too mad. I set my cellphone on the nightstand and stripped down, telling myself that I would shower in the morning.

Author's Note

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