Sterek Stories - A Collection - II

Have a slice day

"I worry about you, honey. You're all alone up there in the city, working on that book. Do you even get out?"

"Mom, we've been over this." Derek takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm fine. I need peace and quiet if I want to finish in time for the deadline." Peace and quiet was certainly something he couldn't find at home, not with his uncle and his wife and kids living with them, including a loose and fast assortment of foster children. He really is fine by himself. He's not gonna mention the all-nighters he pulled the past couple of days, or the fact that he is dressed in his last clean clothes - an odd combo of basketball shorts and a creased button up shirt.

"You've always been a bit of a lone wolf," his mother says, sounding worried. "It's not natural. Wolves need their pack."

"We're not wolves, mom. Stop it with the animal kingdom analogies." He looks around him at the sparsely furnitured apartment. It's his uncle Peter's bachelor pad, which he kept on despite having settled down with a wife and kids years ago. The family uses it when they need somewhere to stay in the city. Laura lived here when she was at NYU and now it's Derek's turn to use it so he can finish his book in time so his editor won't skin him alive.

"Look, I gotta go. I've got dinner in the oven, it's nearly done."

"You made yourself dinner?" Talia Hale sounds a lot more cheerful suddenly. "That's what mommy likes to hear! There's veggies in there, I hope!" Taking care of a haggle of kids every day affects his mother's vocabulary. Derek is 27 years old, it's been a long time since he called his mother 'mommy'.

Derek grimaces at the empty oven. "Yeah, sure," he hedges. "I made... a vegetarian lasagna."

"Sounds good! You gotta give me that recipe when you come back. Did you make it from one of Peter's cookbooks? I'm sure he left some there."

His uncle did indeed leave a couple of cookbooks in a dusty nook of the kitchen. They're untouched. Maybe Laura used them when she lived here, though there was a suspicious amount of noodles left in one of the cupboards. Derek ate expired instant noodles already, they weren't too bad.
"Uh, yeah, sure," Derek mumbles. "Gotta go now, mom."

"Okay, honey. Enjoy your dinner. Love you."

"Love you too, mom." Derek sighs deeply when he pushes the end call button and stuffs the phone in his back pocket. All that talk about dinner has made him hungry.

A quick search of the kitchen cabinets gives him limited options. There's a microwave dinner in the fridge that looks even more questionable now than it did in the supermarket. He shouldn't have bought it, he knew he wasn't going to eat it. But it's either that or a cereal dinner.

"I'm not eating that again," Derek says to the cereal box before he closes the cabinet and fishes his phone out of his jeans. On the fridge is a collection of take out menus and he picks one at random, not even really looking at what it offers.

"Who you gonna call for pizza? McCall!" a cheerful voice says on the other end of the line. "How can I help you?"

Pizza it is. "Uh, I want to order a pizza." Derek stumbles a bit over the words, trying to think of what kind he wants. He doesn't eat it that often, he usually goes for Asian take out so he can save the leftovers for the next day.

"Most people that call here want to do that," the voice deadpans. "What kind?"

"Uhm." Derek thinks of the conversation with his mother. "One with veggies."

"Oh my god, dude. How old are you? Like, five? Did your mommy say that you had to eat all of your veggies before you could go play outside?"

He stares at the take out menu in his hand. McCall's Pizza sure hired some rude staff to answer the phone. Still, Derek answers truthfully. Probably triggered by the familiar words. "Something like that."