KISS: Casablanca High School

Ch 30: Happy Thanksgiving Part 2 (Peter)

My phone started to ring and I fumbled about for it, trying desperately to find it amid the contents of my closet that was emptied across the floor. I saw the caller ID and grinned, answering the FaceTime. 

"Hey cutie, what's up?" 

"Peter! You got plans for dinner tonight? Cause if you don't I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come over to my place. I mean I haven't asked my parents yet but they know we're friends and I'm sure they'd let you," Ace said in a rush.

"Friends? They only know us as friends?" I asked after a pause. I watched his smile vanish and le looked over his shoulder as if his parents would materialize behind him. "Yeah, for now. I'll tell them at some point, just not yet. Still trying to gauge how they'd take it, you know? But anyway! You got dinner plans?" 

I let out a sigh, rummaging through the mounds of clothes. "Unfortunately, yes. My grandparents really want me to go over to their place again. Loretta swears that she's gonna make it this time." 

"Hasn't she said that every year?" "Yep." "Has she ever made it?" "Not since I was seven." 

Ace shook his head with a frown. "How about Joseph?" "Mm, Joseph still has a few months left on his sentence. Rumor has it he'll be out in time for graduation," I said absentmindedly, finally coming up with a clean shirt that looked fancy enough. "Are you finally cleaning up your place?" 

"Hah, no. I'm looking for stuff to wear tonight. The place is fine." 

"Fine?! PJ, your apartment is a disaster. I'm gonna come over there someday and clean it for you." "Hey, if you really want to, be my guest. Anyway, I gotta get ready, they want me over there by 5."

"Aw, bye babe." "Bye, sexy." 

I hung up with a sigh, sitting back on my heels and looking around me. I really should get this place cleaned up. 

Shaking my head, I ran a brush through my hair, buttoning up my shirt and grabbing my keys. Whistling to myself, I moved down the stairs, feet crunching on the gravel as I walked across the parking lot. 

For a moment, I sat behind the wheel of the car, looking at the dash with a sigh. "Come on, Peter. It's just one dinner. And who knows, maybe she'll be there this time." 

I pulled into the driveway, heart leaping as I saw a third car already there. No way, there's no way she's actually there. With a shaking hand, I rang the doorbell. The door was immediately thrown open and there she stood. Loretta Criscuola. Dear old Mom. 

"Peter?" she said softly, hands slowly moving to her mouth. "Hi, Mom. This is a...surprise," I mumbled. "Oh, Peter! Look at how tall you are!" she wailed, throwing her arms around my neck and pulling me into a tight hug. "Yep. That's what happens, I get taller over eleven years," I mumbled. She stepped back, giving me a fond smile, tears in her eyes. "Oh, Peter. It's been so long since I've seen you, I'm so glad I was finally able to make it!" 

"Yeah, it's good to see you too. How've you been?" 

"Oh, it's been so long, I'll talk to you about it more over dinner! But come in, don't just stand here on the doorstep!" she said, ushering me inside. 

I felt my smile starting to grow stiff as I followed her inside. "Peter, sweetheart, it's so good to see you! You really need to stop by more on the weekends, otherwise we might have to talk about cutting you off from your apartment," Gram said with a wink, giving me a hug. I smiled and hugged her back. Grandpa just extended a hand for a handshake, per usual. "Cut your damn hair, boy," he growled. I grinned. "Sounds like you're just jealous yourself," I replied, gesturing at his bald head. He laughed in spite of himself and brought us all into the kitchen. The table was already set and I took my seat, mouth watering as I looked at the turkey. "Let's say grace before we begin," Gram said, holding out her hands. I grabbed Mom's hand, looking at the diamond ring on her finger. "That's a new one. You get engaged again?" I muttered. Her face went red. "Not now, Peter. Just say the prayer." 

We finished grace and Grandpa started to dish out the food. "So Peter, how's high school been for you? You looking at colleges? What are you planning to major in?" Mom asked after a pause. "Oh, maybe if you had actually been there for me you'd know that," I spat. Gram shot me a warning look and I sighed. "It's been fine. I want to go into mechanical engineering since I like math and mechanical stuff. Might go into auto repair though. I've basically built my car from scratch. I like that kind of stuff. How's your life been?" I said in a flat voice. 

"I've been managing. I've missed you," she said, taking my hand. I pulled away instinctively. "Didn't miss me enough to sober up though, did you?" "Peter, please. I'm doing my best." 

"So did you get engaged again?" I asked, changing the subject. Her face grew redder. "I...well...yes," she mumbled. "I met a man and we fell in love. We don't have a wedding date yet." 

"Oh, well congratulations, Loretta," Gram said, trying desperately to salvage the conversation. I stared at the plate of food, face burning. "So mechanical engineering, that's neat! What um...what colleges have you been looking at?" 

"Just some of the ones around. Nothing too fancy or expensive," I mumbled. "That's nice. I hope you get in." 

We sat in silence for awhile until Mom looked at me again, giving me a soft smile. "So, have you been getting good grades?" 

"Yeah, good enough to keep me out of the gutter. Unlike some people I know," I said pointedly. "Peter, that's enough," Gram said sharply. 

"Should've told your daughter that when she was on her first husband." 

"Peter!" 

"Oh what, did I cross the line this time? My bad," I snapped. 

"Look, Peter, I'm sorry for what I put you through, but can you please just try and move on with the rest of us?" 

I felt my blood boiling and shook my head. "No! I'm not about to let you just waltz in back into my life and forgive you after everything! I've wasted so many weekends in courtrooms trying to get away from you and now I'm supposed to just let you back in to my life with no questions? You spent pretty much all my childhood high out of your mind and running off with some man who wasn't Dad! Don't try and come back now!" I shouted, half rising to my feet.

"Well it's not as if you've been a perfect son yourself! Always running off on the weekends to go and get high!" she screamed back. 

"Well where do you think I learned that from, huh? Maybe if I hadn't grown up seeing you taking lines and shooting up, I wouldn't have ended up trying it out myself!" 

"I've gotten clean, Peter! Have you?"

"I'm going to graduate high school! Did you?" 

"I tried to show up here so we could all have a nice dinner together, but for some reason you just can't accept I've changed!" she roared.

"I've heard the same bull from you too many times to believe it!" 

There was a ringing silence as she looked at me, face white. "If you don't want to be here, leave," she spat. I threw my fork down and rose to my feet, storming out of the kitchen and slamming the front door shut behind me. 

Chest heaving, I walked toward my car, feeling furious tears pricking at my eyes. Happy Thanksgiving, I guess.

"Peter! Peter, wait!" 

I turned to find Gram rushing toward me, catching my arm. "Peter John, wait just a minute. I understand that you hate your mother and I can understand why, but it's only going to hurt you to hold on to the anger. Come back inside please, I've told her that she's out of line and needs to watch her damn mouth. I do want you here for dinner, and I'm sorry she's ruined it. But you need to watch your mouth too," she said, slapping the back of my head. 

I smiled in spite of myself and followed after her, heading back into the kitchen.