Peter
I wrap a plate full of turkey, potatoes, stuffing, cranberries, and green beans in aluminum foil. I’ve also packed a full pie, but Danny doesn’t know that. He’d throw a fit if he knew that I’m planning we eat dessert with Vorhees. I place the plate into a large reusable bag, right on top of the pumpkin pie. I baked it last night. Should be good.
I walk into the living room holding the bag.
“Just about ready to go?” I ask as I wrap a scarf around my neck.
“Yeah,” he says, staring at his phone.
Ever since Danny told me he has a new friend, it’s been scarce to find him with his eyes away from that screen. I think it’s a girl. I wasn’t born yesterday.
“Then you’ll have to put your phone away and put your shoes on.”
“Alright, alright.” He jumps off the couch and shoves his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. He stares at me. “What are you wearing?”
“What? The sweater?” I ask, looking down and pulling on it.
“Just like, everything.”
“The scarf?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I don’t have the patience to think about it or to argue with him. I don’t care what I look like to a teenager anyway. “Put on your shoes.”
“What does it look like I’m doing, Peter?!” He shuffles to the front of the apartment and sits on the floor. I watch impatiently as he ties his sneakers slowly. When his phone vibrates, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles at the screen again. He types furiously while biting his bottom lip.
“Today please. Let’s move it.”
“Mhmm.” He stands, but his eyes don’t leave that damn phone.
I head down the stairs. I fully expect him to stumble down them, but we both reach the bottom safely. He doesn’t look at me, or the sidewalk, or the car…just at the phone. The ride is quiet.
“So, I should give you a warning,” I say, breaking the silence.
“About?”
“Mr. Vorhees… His house.”
“Smells like old people?”
“A little worse than that, actually.”
“Bet,” he says. Bet? What the hell does that mean?
“It’s quite messy.”
“Mhmm.”
“You’ll see. Just don’t act too grossed out or anything, OK?”
“Bet.”
“I’m sorry, bet on what?”
“Bet.”
When I pull up in front of the house I stare at Danny for a moment. I don’t think he has any idea that I’m looking at him. He’s in a trance. It’s almost annoying. I hope I’ve never acted like this before, but odds are I have. This is my karma.
I knock on the door and Danny stands behind me. It takes Mr. Vorhees only a couple of moments to answer. I hope he hasn’t been waiting on us for a long while.
“Peter! So happy to see you both!” He says and welcomes us into the home. It looks like he’s cleared some of the garbage off the floor, enough to walk without stumbling, but it’s still quite cluttered in here. I walk into the kitchen, put the bag of food down on the counter, and set his oven to 375 degrees.
“You don’t have to heat it up for me.”
“It’s the least I can do, Mr. Vorhees. I’m thankful for the opportunity you’ve given me. It’s really helped Danny and I.” I look past Mr. Vorhees for Danny, but I don’t see him. Jesus, I hope he is on his best behavior, wherever he is…
“I’ve cleared off the table so we can all sit together.”
I take a good look at the kitchen table. It’s not cleared off. Perhaps there is less junk than there was during my last visit, but it’s still covered in papers. What you can see of the table’s wood surface is incredibly dirty and sticky.
“Wow! It looks great, Mr. Vorhees!” I smile at him like I did at the CPS caseworker every day. I’m good at that smile.
“I worked hard at it. Got a bit tired near the end though.”
“Bet,” I say. “I mean, I bet. I bet you worked hard at it.” Jesus Christ, Mary, and St. Joseph.
“You know I go straight for the sweets!” Vorhees says as he opens the pie. He pulls a knife out of the drawer. I squint my eyes. It’s either very dirty or rusted. I can’t have that thing anywhere near my pie.
“Let me clean that for you,” I take it from his hand and wash it off in the sink. The brown bits all come off, so I’m assuming it was just food residue. I hand him back the clean utensil. He smiles and slices the pie. I watch his eyes light up as he takes a bite.
“Did you bake this?”
“Yes, I did.” I turn back to the sink. There’s quite a few dirty dishes. I start to wash them all off.
“Has anyone ever told you how incredibly talented you are?”
I laugh and continue cleaning. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
“The opposite?”
“Yeah, well… The bakery I used to work in… Long time ago… I—my boss—he…. Bad guy, he was just a really bad guy. Perfectionist, but mean about it. Horrible human being all together.”
“Nothing like you then,” he says as he takes another bite of pie.
“I sure hope not,” I say.
“What bakery that you used to work at?!” Danny walks into the kitchen. Fuck. The first time he puts down his phone, and this is what he hears?
“Long time ago, Danny,” I say. The oven beeps. It’s finished preheating.
“I never knew you worked in a bakery before?!”
“I did.”
“In Scotland?”
Fuck me.
“Yes.”
“But weren’t you like a kid?!”
“I was a teenager. Actually, I was just about your age.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?!”
“Never thought it was important enough.”
Danny sits at the kitchen table. I don’t think the condition of this house has phased him at all. It’s like he doesn’t even care. Maybe he’s just so engulfed by his phone, and now my story.
“You know I always ask you about Scotland! Your boss was a jerk?”
“Worse than a jerk. A very bad man.” I put the food in the oven for Mr. Vorhees.
Mr. Vorhees sits at the table next to Danny with his pie.
“Like what did he do? Did he hurt people? Kill anyone?”
“No, Danny, he didn’t kill anyone.” I finish up with the dishes and then look around at the counter tops. They could all use a good scrubbing. “Mr. Vorhees—”
“Peter, just call Me Allen. We are eating dinner together! It’s Thanksgiving!”
“Right, Allen. Do you mind if I wash up your countertops?”
“No work on Thanksgiving!”
“It doesn’t feel like work to me, really. I like to clean. Where are your sponges?”
“Might be some more in the bathroom under the sink.”
I head down the hallway and into the bathroom. There’s a great mess of junk in here too. I can hardly open the door, but I manage to squeeze inside. I don’t know how the man lives like this. It makes me sad. He lost his wife and his son. I think his house looks just the way he feels. I’m glad that my grief doesn’t show outwardly on a regular basis. I look put together, even on the days I struggle the most.
When I walk back into the kitchen with a sponge, I expect that Danny will ask me more about Scotland. He doesn’t though, and it isn’t because he’s so focused on his phone, no. He’s eating pie and talking to Mr. Vorhees—Erm— I mean, Allen. Allen tells him all about his own childhood and his first job at a bakery. Danny seems interested. He asks questions and doesn’t lose eye contact. He doesn’t notice that I walk back into the room. It makes me wish that I had positive stories about my childhood to share with Danny, that I didn’t have anything to hide about my past or who I really am.
Danny
“Peter, we have to hurry up!”
“The parade doesn’t start for another hour, Danny.” He squeezes every last drop of water off the mop.
He’s freakin’ playing around! Seriously? I don’t have time for this!
“Give me the mop!” I rip it out of his hands. He stands there looking at me like one of those ventriloquist dummies with its mouth wide open, except he’s got nothing clever to say. I dry the store at lightning speed, faster than he ever could. “See?! See how fast this is?!”
“You’re just pushing water around! Hardly drying it.”
“Oh my God, it will dry on its own! It’s not even that wet!”
He closes his eyes like he needs a break from life. He stands there quietly, meditating.
“I’ll count out the drawer, just make sure the floors are dry, please. And don’t fall! It’s slippery and you’re running around! Jesus, Mary, and St. Joseph.”
“Count quickly!”
He doesn’t answer. I look down at the ground. These floors are dry enough. I pull my phone out of my pocket.
A kiss?! Now I really have to hurry!
“OK ALL DRY!” I run past Peter pushing the mop bucket full of water out the back door. He follows me.
“Danny, you’re spilling water all over the Goddamn floor!”
When I reach the back of the parking lot, I kick the bucket full of dirty ass water over. The muck splashes down into the storm drain. I lift the empty bucket and run past Peter again.
“I’ll put this away in the closet. What are you doing?! Keep counting the cash! Time is money you know!” I yell at him.
“Must have forgotten you were my boss.”
“Cut the sass and move it!”
There he goes, lollygagging back over to the register As I push the bucket into the closet, I overhear him talking to Allen in the office.
“You’re gonna have to take a ride with me to Main Street. I have to drop Danny off for the parade.”
“I haven’t been to the parade in years!”
“I went once, a little while ago. It’s nothing that spectacular.”
I hear keys jingle. He better be ready to go. I step into the office.
“OK. Floor is clean, everything is put away. Let’s go!”
“He seems to be very excited about it!” Allen says as he stands up slowly and reaches for his jacket. Peter kind of rolls his eyes… Like he’s trying to say something to Allen, but he doesn’t want to say it in front of me. I know his ways.
“Just say what you’re thinking Peter!”
“I’m not thinking anything, Jesus Christ. Here, take my keys and wait in the car.”
He tosses the keys to me, and I catch them midair. Then he helps Allen find the left sleeve of his jacket. Sometimes kids and old people have a hard time with that. I don’t care. I run toward the car and click unlock as many times as I can. I want to sit shotgun, but I know he’s going to tell me that Allen gets to sit in the front. God, I hope Selena doesn’t see me get out of this car. How embarrassing. Selena said she’s in front of the library… I should tell Peter to drop me off in the back.
As I wait for them to lock the doors, I scroll through all of Selena’s photos on Instagram. She’s the prettiest girl ever. I can’t screw this up.
Peter
I drop Danny off behind the library just as he asks. Before I can say goodbye, the car door slams and he’s already running across the parking lot. My heart falls when he’s almost hit by a car. The driver blares their horn.
I roll down the window and yell. “The parade isn’t that FUCKING EXCITING DANNY! Jesus Christ!”
He turns to look at me, but continues walking backward. He laughs and waves, before he jogs down the sidewalk.
“Sorry, Allen. Fucking kids. He’s going to kill me one of these days.”
Allen laughs. “It’s OK. Don’t you remember being young?’
“I’m only twenty-two… But yeah, I guess I remember being his age. He’s after a girl, I know for sure.”
As soon as Danny is out of sight I slowly roll through the traffic in the parking lot.
“You think so?”
“Oh come on. I can’t think of any other time I’ve acted like a fool other than for a woman.”
“You’re certainly right about that,” he says with a sigh.
Great. Now he’s probably thinking about his dead wife.
“Hey, Allen… Do you want to watch the parade?”
“Did you change your mind? You didn’t seem too interested earlier.”
“Yeah. Figure, I haven’t seen it in a couple of years at least. Everyone could use a little Christmas spirit, right?”
“Sure! I’ve got nothing to do!”
“Great! I’ll drive you home afterwards.”
I put my blinkers on when I notice one empty parking spot. The two assholes surrounding it are parked so horribly that I’m unsure if my car can fit. That must be why the space is available. I slowly edge into the spot.
“Cutting it a little close, Peter,” Allen says worriedly.
“Nah, I’ll be fine…Actually…” I squint. I don’t think there’s a way that both my door and his door will be able to open.
“Maybe you should get out now, before I pull in. Just— Just stand on the sidewalk.”
“Okey Dokey.”
He gets out of the car carefully. It’s taking forever. I’m only about a quarter of the way into the spot. People are honking. Unlike Danny, Allen looks both ways before he hobbles across the parking lot. As soon as I know that Allen can’t see, I give the honker the middle finger. Merry Fucking Christmas to all!
I pull in the spot. I’m thin yet I can hardly get out the door. I make it with just a little contortion. I open the trunk of my car and pull out a beach chair. Perfect.
“Look Allen!” I shout as I approach him. “I even have a seat for you!”
“Great! I may need a little assistance getting out of it though.”
“I can help you out if need be.”
“Wow! I hope we can still get a spot with a good view!”
“I think we’ll be fine.”
I notice Allen’s unsteady on his feet as he walks toward Main Street. I interlock arms with him to help him walk. He doesn’t say a word about it, but instead holds tightly to my arm. He smiles at me. I juggle the beach chair in my left hand, and him in my right.
“You know, the last time I was here was at least twenty years ago,” he says.
“Wow. This has been going on for that long?”
“Yes! Patchogue has been doing parades like this for many years. Do they still sell hot pretzels off of stolen shopping carts?”
“What?” I laugh “I don’t know… Are you sure they’re stolen?”
“Well, they were Pathmark carts, and I don’t think those were for sale!”
I try my best to look around for Danny, but the street is packed. If I was just a bit taller, I might be able to see over some heads. Even so, many parents have their young children on their shoulders. I’m not sure anyone could see over that.
“Can you see Allen?”
“No, can’t see a thing.”
The parade is just starting. Allen looks upset by his lack of view. I remember there’s a bench in front of the theater across the way.
“Allen, there’s a bench across the street.”
“Isn’t someone sitting on it by now?”
“I don’t think so.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’m not, but I’m sure that when I tell whoever they are that this is my da’s first Christmas parade in twenty years, they’ll gladly stand up.”
“Your dad?”
“You’re more of a dad to me than any other man I’ve had in my life.” Do I really mean that? Maybe, but probably not. I just want the man to sit down so I can search around and get a look at Danny’s mystery girl. “Well, come on.”
Allen and I make our way across the street. It’s a bit difficult with a beach chair in one arm and an old man on the other. We are taking our time, and blocking the parade route. No one says anything to us, though. Must be that fucking Christmas spirit. A beauty queen waves at me from a convertible. I grin, but then I realize she’s waving at Allen. He’s blowing kisses.
“No distractions! We’re blocking the route.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I’ll have to ignore it until we make it completely across the way, I’m not that much of an asshole.
“Just having a little fun, Peter!”
“I know, I know. Come on.”
As we make it nearer to the sidewalk, I notice two women sitting on the bench.
“Room for one more, ladies?” I ask charmingly in my best Scottish accent. One squints at me. Neither looks very impressed. The squinting one is eating a hot pretzel. “Get that off a stolen Pathmark cart?”
“What are you talking about?” she asks.
Allen laughs and looks back and forth between myself and the lady. He’s having a great time already.
“Erm. Nothing. Anyway, the seat isn’t for me. Dear old dad hasn’t seen a Christmas parade since I was a wee lad! Would you mind scooching over just a bit. He’s got a bad hip.”
“It’s really my knees, Peter.”
“I mean knees. He has some bad knees. I guess his hip is just fine tonight.”
My phone’s now vibrating relentlessly.
The lady with the pretzel scoots over the slightest bit. It’s just enough room for Allen.
“You sit there,” I instruct him
“But where will you sit, Peter?”
“Uh… right here in front of you.” I point to the edge of the sidewalk.
“You’ll be OK on the ground?”
“Yes, I’ll be just fine.”
“What I wouldn’t give for young knees!” He says to the unimpressed, pretzel lady. She cheers as the fire fighters blare their sirens and chuck candy canes into the crowd. God, how pathetic.
I sit down and plop the unopened beach chair in front of my feet. What a waste. I check my phone:
Danny… He must be nearby. I crane my neck to look all around me, but he’s nowhere in sight.
Across the street… Got it.
I look up from my phone. Directly across the way, I see him. He’s not looking at the parade, not at all. He couldn’t give a shit about the flying candy canes or Santa Claus. He’s got his arms wrapped all the way around a girl from behind. She’s got tan skin and straight, black hair. It nearly touches her hips. Her nails are definitely fake, and incredibly long. She’s wearing about a pound of makeup, way too much for a young lady of her age. To top it all off, she’s dressed very inappropriately for this weather. The girl looks as if she’s about to freeze to death in that little jean skirt! She looks up at him and says something. With that, he takes his coat off and puts it over her shoulders. She smiles. She looks completely smitten.
I laugh when I see her reach into his jacket pocket and pull out the phone. He looks directly at me and grimaces.
Secrets, secrets are no fun, I begin to type out on my phone… But then I remember that I am not the person to be chanting that rhyme.
I look behind me at Allen. He hasn’t noticed that I’ve taken my phone out. I can see the reflection of the Christmas lights in his eyes.