Pleasantries - Chapter 1 - Part 3
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Chapter 1
Part 2
Part 3
* * *
Part 1 (with advisories and other fun stuff) Part 2. Read those first. Seriously, they aren't that long.
Right, on with part 3
Pleasantries - Chapter 1 - What Dreams Are Made Of - Part 3
7:50 AM Friday, April 4
“No, Jonathan,” Mary-Sue Pleasant said loudly into the phone as she stalked into the kitchen, “I don’t care how much it costs, just make it happen.”
Angela stared glumly down at her breakfast. She really didn’t know why she bothered to even try eating. No one else ever did. Lilith would continue to glare daggers at the wall while she nursed a cup of coffee. Their father would be absorbed in his paper until their mother joined them and then he would bolt from the room as quickly as he could make his excuses, and their mother …
Heaving a sigh Angela pushed a sliver of French toast across her plate. Their mother was another matter entirely. She was either on the phone with someone from work or crying. Sure her marriage was falling apart, but really, was that any way to deal with it?
Her stomach turning sour with agitation, Angela gave up entirely on eating and began to glance around looking for something to occupy her until she could escape from this farce that was the enforced 'family time' called breakfast.
“I saw your interim report last night, Lilith,” Daniel Pleasant commented not looking up from his paper.
Seeing the startled expression on her sister’s face, Angela leaned back in her chair. This should be an entertaining way to pass a few minutes until she could get out of here.
“Your English mark has come up to a C,” Daniel continued, “Well done. The tutoring is working out for you then?”
Lilith nodded, “It is, yeah.”
“Good, good,” Daniel smiled with a nod of his own, “It is worth the money we are paying the young man then.”
Lilith gave him a weak smile.
Daniel looked slightly worried for a moment, then, with a wide smile he added, “Why don’t you take my car this weekend and take a few of your friends shopping? My treat.”
Lilith grinned, “Thanks, Dad.”
Looking relieved Daniel turned back to his paper.
“What?” Angela couldn’t help her astonishment, “For one lousy C?”
“Angela,” Daniel reprimanded, folding his paper, “Your sister worked hard for that C.”
“So?” Angela shot back, “I work hard too.”
“Grades don’t come as easily to Lilith as they do for you,” Daniel explained patiently, “I’m proud of you as well, Honey.”
“Whatever,” Angela snapped with a dismissive wave of her hand shooting a glare at Lilith. Why was it Lilith always got away with doing whatever she wanted to?
Daniel glanced between his daughters with a puzzled expression before turning his attention to his breakfast with a shrug.
“Alright,” Mary-Sue was saying into the phone as she approached the table, “Call me back on my cell in five and we will go over the presentation again before I get there. Yeah, breakfast with the family. Bye.”
“How is everyone this morning?” Mary-Sue inquired, taking her seat at the table. Her voice had the unnatural tones of someone forcing themselves to be cheerful.
Angela ignored her and continued to scowl across the table at Lilith. Lilith arched a brow and smiled back innocently, her fingers idly toying with the handle on her coffee cup.
“I’ll see you guys on Monday,” Daniel grumbled, pushing back from the table, “We have away games all weekend. Stop by my office on your way to school Lilith, you can pick up my car and credit card from there.”
“Bye Daddy. Good luck,” Lilith called sweetly after him, “and thank-you.”
Angela’s scowl deepened.
Daniel was barely out of the room when Mary-Sue began to sob quietly.
Lilith gave a disgusted snort, “I’m going to school,” she announced pushing her chair back from the table.
Angela ignored her, her attention focused on her mother.
“It will be okay, Mom,” Angela tried to console the older woman.
“I don’t think it will,” Mary-sue argued between sobs, “He can’t even stand to be in the same room with me anymore, and I just know there are going to be women throwing themselves at him all weekend. You know he’s not going to say no to that.”
Angela sighed. Her mother was probably right, though she wondered how much throwing was really going to happen. She had her suspicions that her father was more the type that actively went looking.
“Keep me company this weekend?” Mary-Sue asked reminding Angela of a small, lost child, “I don’t think I can handle being alone.”
“Oh …” Angela had plans for the weekend. Usually she would stay and keep her mother company, someone had to and Lilith obviously wasn’t going to, but Dustin was already so upset about how little time they had been spending together recently.
“It’s okay,” Mary-Sue shook her head, her sobbing intensifying, “I-I shouldn’t have asked, of course y-you want to go out this weekend don’t you? I-I’ll be a-alright.”
Angela sighed, her stomach clenched into a tight knot of guilt. Either way she was letting someone down.
“No,” she said at last, “It’s alright Mom, Dustin and I can go out some other time. I’ll stay with you this weekend.”
“Thank you,” Mary-Sue choked out burying her face in her hands.
Angela stared off into space as a familiar numb feeling washed over her. Things were so much easier when she just didn’t feel.
* * *
8:20 AM Friday, April 4
“He’d even cleaned himself up a bit,” Dirk confided to Lilith later that morning pulling books from his locker.
“Do you think he’s going to listen this time?”
“I don’t know,” Dirk shrugged, “I hope he does, but at the same time …”
“You don’t really want to get your hopes up,” Lilith finished for him as his voice trailed off.
“No, I really don’t,” Dirk sighed. “Life really fucking sucks sometimes did you know that?”
“It does,” Lilith agreed, “Which is why you need to focus on the little good things and not so much the big bad ones.”
Dirk snorted, “After school specials, Lil?”
“No,” she countered immediately, “Winston. He’s not wrong though.”
“Okay, give me an example of a little good thing that will make the big bad seem not so bad.”
“Easy,” she scoffed, “FM.”
“Oh,” came the breathy sigh of contentment from Ripp as he fell into step beside them, “It is Friday.”
“Meet up at my place after school and we will head out from there?” Damon Villega asked joining them. Tybalt was with him as usual, arm draped around his shoulder.
Dirk smiled to Lilith, “Yeah, alright.”
“See,” Lilith told him returning the smile, “a little something to look forward too. I gotta go though; Winston hates it when I’m late!”
With that, beaming a bright smile, she hurried off down the hall leaving her friends staring after her.
Tybalt cocked his head to the side, “Is she actually smiling and hurrying to get to class?”
“She is,” Ripp confirmed.
“Did I wake up in an alternate reality?” Dirk wondered aloud.
“I think we need to meet this Winston guy,” Damon chimed in.
“Definitely,” the other three nodded in unison.
* * *
3:15 PM Friday, April 4
Dirk fought down the feeling of apprehension as he entered the house once more. He didn’t know what he would find this time; it was stupid to be worried about it before he even got inside.
What he found was empty rooms. This was different. By routine his father should have been sprawled on the couch, mindlessly staring at something on the television that he wasn’t really watching. The man didn’t usually leave the house, for anything.
“Dad?” Dirk called.
“Up here,” came the response from the stairs.
Dirk blinked. He was in his studio? This was a hopeful development.
“The canvas doesn’t speak to me anymore,” Darren commented gazing thoughtfully at the blank surface before him as Dirk crested the stairs, “Why do you suppose that is?”
“Maybe you forgot how to listen?” Dirk offered.
Darren cocked his head, “Maybe.”
“I’m going out for a while,” Dirk said.
He got no response as his father continued staring, slightly sideways, at the blank canvas resting on the easel.
Dirk sighed, some days he may as well have been talking to the wall. Come to think of it, the wall might be better company and was certainly, usually, more useful.
He flinched inwardly at the harsh thought. This was his father. Dirk couldn’t really expect the man to try if his own son had given up on him.
Resigning himself to having some trying to do of his own, Dirk stepped between the older man and the canvas.
“How come you never go out Dad?” he asked.
Darren blinked seeming to have forgotten Dirk was there until he stepped directly into his line of sight.
“Where am I going to go?” Darren asked after a long moment.
“Anywhere,” Dirk suggested, “You never leave the house at all anymore, except to buy booze.”
Darren ducked his head.
“It’s not good for you.” Dirk added quietly, “That’s all I am saying.”
“I know,” was the even quieter response. “I just …”
Silence lapsed again. Neither sure what to say.
Finally with a heavy sigh Dirk headed toward the stairs, “I am going out for a while,” he repeated
Darren nodded and turned his attention back to the canvas, “We are out of milk if you have time to pick some up.”
Dirk froze, “Oh …”
If he stopped for milk he’d have to bring it back home again before meeting up with everyone else, then he would be late. His friends wouldn’t care, but he would. Stopping on the way home wasn’t an option either, he didn’t intend to be back until well after the stores were closed.
Darren turned around at his son’s hesitation shooting him a questioning glance.
“Didn’t want to be late,” Dirk supplied by way of explanation.
Darren nodded, “I can go get milk,” he stated, though his hands shook while he said it.
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” Darren nodded, “It’s just a quick trip to the store right? No big deal. It’s about time I started trying anyway.”
Dirk wondered briefly who his father was trying to convince, Dirk or himself.
“Maybe I’ll pick up a few more things while I am out,” Darren added, “I noticed we could use some fresh tomatoes. The ones we have are looking a little fuzzy.”
Dirk smiled slightly at that, “I’ll leave some money on the counter.”
“You don’t have to,” Darren put in defensively, “I’ve still got some.”
“Save it, Dad,” Dirk told him, “Use it to figure out how to get the canvas talking again, alright?”
Darren nodded, “Alright.”
With that Dirk bounced down the stairs.
“Thank you, Son,” Darren called quietly after him, “I don’t know if I deserve the chance, but thank you for letting me have it anyway.”
Dirk didn’t hear him.
* * *
4:10 PM Friday, April 4
“I can’t believe you don’t like my new poster,” Damon pouted.
Dirk shrugged, “How much could you appreciate a poster of Ariel, Mulan and a double ended dildo?”
“That is not even in the same category,” Damon countered, “First; that’s cliché. Everyone has seen that one on the net somewhere. Second; those are movie characters. My posters are characters from some of the best game series ever. You can’t even compare the two.”
“Both fictional and animated,” Dirk pointed out.
“Which is the only thing they have in common!”
“Besides,” Damon continued, “I could at least appreciate a poster like that if it was well done. I appreciate the artistry behind the image, not so much the image itself.”
“Yeah, because that’s the whole point,” Dirk snorted, “Artistry. Why is Tybalt okay with the smut on your walls?”
“Who do you think gave me the new poster?” Damon smirked.
Any further comment Dirk was going to make was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Oh hey,” Damon said to the new arrival as the door swung open, “You’re back. How is Uncle Cal?”
“Good,” Telesto nodded, “He had to get back to work so he couldn’t stay but he’s coming for dinner on Sunday.”
Damon nodded, “So, what can I do for you little brother?”
“I just got off the phone with Jules,” Telesto told him, “She and Tybalt are on their way over.”
“Awesome,” Damon grinned, “Lilith and Ripp should be here soon and then we are heading over to FM. You wanna come? Rein and Fen are going to meet us there later.”
“Sure,” Telesto agreed, “Will be good to catch up with everyone after a month with my brother.”
Dirk chuckled, “Your family tree makes my head hurt.”
“Just don’t think about it,” Damon advised. “The wrongness of Uncle Cal being both Tel and Dad’s brother is much less painful if you just don’t think about it.”
“Speaking of wrong though, Tel, come here for a minute,” Damon said sitting up and gesturing the half-alien into the room.
“Don’t do it man,” Dirk warned from his position on the floor, “It’s scary.”
“His whole room is scary,” Telesto countered.
“Good point.”
“Hush,” Damon admonished. “Now, Tel, have a look at this poster and tell me what you think of it from an artistic standpoint.”
“I have to admit, the facial expressions are fairly well done,” Telesto acknowledged, studying the poster.
“See I knew you would appreciate my point,” Damon nodded, satisfied. “The dork here doesn’t like it. He can’t seem to appreciate it for what it is.”
“Depends on what you think it is I guess,” Telesto countered.
“It’s obvious what it is,” Damon insisted, “Just look at it. It’s beautiful. The artistry …”
“Oh please!” Telesto interrupted. “Artistry is so not the point. Now if you wanted to show me a poster of Pocahontas, Jasmine and a double ended dildo we could discuss what you seem think of as artistry.”
Damon sputtered indignantly.
“Pwnd!” Dirk chortled. “Tel, you rock.”
Still laughing Dirk turned his attention back to his game. There may be something to Lilith’s advice after all. His father was making an effort, a small one, but still an effort and time with his friends was always welcome. Little good things. He was starting to feel better.
* * *4:25 PM Friday, April 4
Darren scuttled through the grocery store like he half expected a pack of hungry wolves to jump out behind him at any moment. For a middle aged widower with a teenaged son, the analogy may not have been far off. He hadn’t told Dirk this, but a large part of the reason he didn’t want to leave the house, ever, was the way other people treated him.
Over the past few years since his wife had died he’d discovered people treated him in one of three ways. The first: awkwardly, like they were never sure what to say to him and would rather avoid him altogether. Those people he was okay with, he understood that. Hell, he recalled treating other people that way a time or two himself, before … before Darleen.
The second reaction was the most common by far, the one where people shot him sympathetic glances and asked him how he was holding up or other bullshit platitudes meant to express their sympathy but in reality just made him all the more aware of how alone he was now, how empty his life was, how broken he’d become.
Then there was the third reaction. The reaction that was headed his way as he made his way between the freezer cases; coming straight for him like a vulture in pink cargo pants. A vulture by the name of Nina Caliente. He’d run into Nina before. Nina was an old friend of his wife’s. It had taken her all of a week after Darleen’s death to proposition him the first time.
Of all of the reactions he got, this one was the worst. The Nina’s of the world seemed to think that alone meant lonely and lonely meant that he would welcome them into his bed. He really hated that reaction.
Deciding to deal with the situation the only way he knew how he pretended he didn’t even notice her and kept right on walking.
If he hadn’t told Dirk he would try he wouldn’t even be here, he mused, hurrying as fast as he could toward the checkout, but then if it wasn’t for Dirk he probably would have given up entirely a long time ago. He owed it to his son to try and the first step in trying was to try doing normal things, like shopping.
The narrow escape of Nina had him rattled though and he wondered briefly if he’d left anything in that bottle he kept hidden behind the couch.
Maybe he was lonely sometimes, okay, he was lonely a lot of the time, but that didn’t mean he was ready to just hop into bed with the first woman who threw herself at him. He wasn’t sure he ever would be ready for that kind of relationship again. He just couldn’t imagine himself with anyone who wasn’t Darleen. It would be too much, like a constant reminder that she was gone and this new woman was merely her replacement, a pale substitute.
“Excuse me?” a voice called from behind him. Thinking they were talking to someone else he paid no attention and kept on walking.
“Hey,” the voice called again, “I think you dropped something.”
He stopped. Was that for him?
Turning around Darren almost dropped the rest of his shopping basket as he met smiling blue eyes.
“Is this your tomato handsome?” the blonde asked, her voice light and musical. “Or is karma just giving me an excuse to talk to you?”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
On to Chapter 2 - Part 1
Notes: I have a love/hate thing going with this chapter not helped by the beginning and the end being written 3 months apart due to the interruption of the rampant plot bunny that is now known as (tentatively it may get bumped up) Chapter 5. Any lack of meshing between sections I blame on that *nods* that's my story anyway. On the other hand a lot of characterization took place in that time and later chapters will be all the better for it.
Credits: As usual custom content is by a whole slew of people who are amazing. There is far too much to list though. Too much to remember really. I will do my best to remember if you ask though!