I’m just gonna post this now even if I should probably have gone over it a few more times and checked for mistakes, fixed the wording some places, just generally tidied it up, but to hell with it. Just keep in mind that it’s very first draft-y and will hopefully improve when I get the motivation.
It’s not even an important part of the story, just a little thing to intruduce some characters and the relationship between them. And it’s cheesy. Seriously, it should be on a pizza.
Without further ado, here it is!
.
On Sunday afternoon they got in the car, Jean ready for a pleasant evening with her parents and in-laws, Will more prepared for the subtle battle of wits and will that was always present when he met anyone he shared blood with. Still, he looked forward to it in his own way, especially to seeing his oldest daughter, although not that much to seeing her boyfriend.
“Vicky called earlier,” Jean told him when they were halfway there.
“Did she leave the snot rag in France?” Will asked moodily.
“Please don’t talk about my father like that,” she said evenly, but smirked to herself, she knew who he was referring to.
“Not him, Pierre le magnifique,” he said with a mocking hand gesture, making his wife sigh.
“His name is Richard and he’s a perfectly decent young man,” she answered hard. He snorted and they spent the rest of the drive in silence.
They arrived last, judging by the number of cars in the drive-in, but it was still room for them as long as no one planned on speeding up the hill and thereby didn’t notice their rear bumper before it was too late. Jean straightened the skirt of the white dress she was wearing and gave her husband’s Guns ‘n’ Roses t-shirt one last disapproving look before grabbing the bottle of wine they had brought and stepping out. Both their mothers had already showed up on the front step and she went to welcome them with a hug while he took his time and was able to sneak in almost unnoticed while the women gobbled away like a flock of turkeys.
“Oh, good, I won’t have to starve to death completely,” Frank welcomed him with as he entered the living room.
“What a pity,” Will answered drily and nodded a quick hello to the other inhabitants of the room, not that surprisingly all male.
“You ate a sandwich and a week’s worth of cheese and crackers before we left,” Hans told Frank.
“See, this is what I have to live with, someone who deals out crackers on a weekly basis!” Frank threw up his arms, but let one of them wrap around Hans’s neck and used the other fist to give his scalp a good rubbing.
“Still not grown up, I see.” Will turned to the voice of his father and found him leaning against a cabinet with a glass of whisky in his hand. “Here.” He handed his son a glass, but Will shook his head.
“I’m driving,” he answered shortly and got a shrug in reply before they both turned back to the goofballs on the couch, who were now in a full wrestling match before Frank called it to an ending and they both sat up, out of breath and dishevelled. Hans’ sand blond hair stood in every direction and Frank’s shirt was tugged halfway off his shoulder, but they tried getting back in order. “Weren’t Vicky supposed to be here?”
“She’s upstairs, changing,” his father answered, which made Will’s brows rise considerably.
“And Pierre?” he said with a hostile note.
“She’s eighteen, and if either of them have the guts to get it on in the same house as all her grandparents, let them,” his father said firmly. “It’s not like you were an angel at that age, either.”
“It’s not the same,” Will said gruffly and took the glass of whisky after all.
“Of course not,” his father said sardonically as the women made their way from the kitchen to join the others in the living room.
“All we need now is your parents and we’d be all set,” Jean laughed with a nod to Hans.
“They’re vacationing on the Dog Islands,” Frank answered for him, which left everyone looking confused. “You see, the canary bird didn’t give name to the islands, it’s named after the islands, which in turn are named due to the multitude of dogs there. That also means it’s dog birds, which is a pretty strange name for a bird, especially one so small.”
“They’re on Tenerife or Lanzarote, I can’t remember which,” Hans broke him off with.
“That sounds lovely,” Will’s mother answered with a warm smile.
“You know you’re always welcomed to visit us, Mildred,” Jean’s mother told her. “France might not be quite as warm as the Canary Islands, but it’s still better than here.”
“I would, but you’ve already been so kind as to take Victoria in with you, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she answered. “Talking off, where has she gone to?” She looked around the room as if she expected her granddaughter to materialise out of thin air, but all it resulted in was the two heads bent over the chess board in the corner look up, and Will clenched his jaw.
“Probably adjusting her stockings or something,” her husband answered lightly and went over to see how Johnny and Henri, Jean’s father, were doing with their chess game.
“Hey, Will, we just got something that might interest you,” Frank said, and although the oldest brother didn’t trust that grin at all, he went over to the sitting group. “And old lady who’s run a small theatre up in Braxton dropped by the other week with some costumes and stuff, and among them were a mask from the Phantom of the Opera.” Frank didn’t get further before Will picked an orange from the fruit bowl and hurled it at him, but the younger broke down in laughter anyway. Hans offered an apologetic smile.
“She had a lot of interesting stuff, though. Dresses from the ‘50s, a skull she said was used in Hamlet—“
“But might as well have been her husband’s,” Frank broke his partner off with and continued laughing.
“Costume from Les Miserables with genuine Parisian stink…” Hans smiled again. “You could bring in the girls one day, they might be interested in the dresses at least.”
“I’ll ask them,” Will said and gave his still-laughing brother a cold look, but it didn’t sober him up much. “The hell’s wrong with you?” he asked in the end.
“I missed the train to Moanyville,” Frank answered cheekily and neatly caught the apple that was thrown at him before taking a bite of it. “Thanks, I was getting peckish.”
“You just have to learn to live with it,” Hans told Will with a sigh. He nodded and turned look for his wife, but was instead faced with the voluminous figure of his mother-in-law, dressed in purple and looking like a cat that had just spotted a mouse in the corner. He gave her a shaky smile and she grinned from ear to ear in return.
“Wilbur!” The use of his given name made Will cringe and Franky to set off howling like a loon again, but he played along.
“Lorina!” He replied and threw his arms around her in a hug, trying not to choke on her perfume. She giggled and hugged him back before letting go quickly and instead tucking her arm into his and patting his hand while she began walking him around the small living and dining room.
“I’ve heard you haven’t yet fallen for dear Richard,” she began and stopped a second by a vase of lilies to adjust the flowers slightly.
“Oh, no, I love the little Dick,” he answered, knowing he wasn’t fooling anyone within a ten mile radius and got a hard look from Lorina to prove it.
“Then might I remind you of a young hoodlum who showed up at my doorstep thirty years ago in ripped jeans and smelling of beer, asking if he had the right address and if this was where Jean lived?” She continued her tour into the kitchen and peeked into the pot of mashed potatoes.
“To my defence, I had just gotten off a plane and a bus, and it was the idiot next to me that spilled the beer,” he answered, but couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Seldom had he felt as small or insecure as when meeting the people later to be his parents-in-law for the first time.
“And the jeans?” She gave him another hard look and he took a deep breath.
“Lo, listen, the kid’s a player. Trust me, I know the type. The moment he has the tiniest shot at doing better than Vicky, he’ll drop her like a hot potato and she’ll be crushed.” He swallowed hard.
“He can’t do better than Vicky, and he knows that,” Lorina answered with certainty and pushed her black hair back. “And they’ve been together for almost six months, it’s time you start trusting him.”
“I’ll trust him when they start hanging posters for ice shows in hell,” he muttered, but any further comments were stopped by the sound of high heels going down the stairs, followed by Victoria and Richard appearing in the doorway, and she throwing herself into her father’s arms.
“I’ve missed the smell of you,” she announced while drawing deep breaths, her nose tucked into his shirt front. He only smiled weakly and patted her hair before letting her go and she stood up straight again, her blonde hair streaming down her shoulders, her nose still small and slightly upturned, but hardly noticeable for those who hadn’t known her for years and her teeth a perfect row of white pearls. She was definitely more grown woman than child now.
“Hi.” Richard stepped up to her side and gave Will an uncertain wave and Will gave him a tiny stiff nod in return without looking at his grease-combed hair or the shirt with the top button undone, but further exchanges weren’t necessary as Mildred zoomed into the room and hushed everyone but Lorina out to the dining table.
With his wife and daughter as buffers between him and Richard, and the distraction of Franky opposite him, Will was able to enjoy the meal as it should be. He wasn’t sure if his mother’s cooking had got better since he was a boy or if he was just enjoying it more, but the steak was supreme and the mashed potatoes so creamy he would probably have taken them over sex at least a few times a year.
“I would like to propose a toast for family!” Mildred beamed from her seat at the top of the table and lifted her glass of wine high. The rest of them mimicked her and echoed “For family” in varying degrees of enthusiasm. Johnny barely muttered it and Will furrowed his brows.
“How’s things at work?” he asked his younger brother and mopped up some gravy with the piece of steak on his fork before consuming it.
“Fine,” Johnny answered, not raising his eyes from his plate where he seemed to be picking at his food more than eating it.
“Did you go to that auction you talked about?”
“No,” Johnny muttered and put down his fork.
“We did,” Franky answered instead with his mouth full of peas and carrots. “Wasn’t much we could afford there, but we did get hold of an old script in Latin. From what we’ve understood so far it’s mostly fart jokes,” he added and swallowed.
“Suits you excellent,” Will retorted and took a sip of his coke.
“Doesn’t it just,” Franky agreed with a tip of his own glass.
“I swear, we are actually running a serious business,” Hans added, his eyes turned upwards as if addressing some higher power.
“It’s a limit as to how serious it can get with him involved,” their father put in, pointing at Franky with his knife, who proceeded to clutch his chest as if mortally wounded.
“It’s going well, though?” Will asked Hans, who nodded and chewed the piece of steak he had just put in his mouth fast.
“Splendid, actually,” he said with a smile. “We get some odd requests from time to time, though, people asking if we have giant wigs or shoes from the eighteenth century. We’re an antique shop, not costume providers!”
“Well, now we’re sort of that, too,” Franky said and helped himself to more mashed potatoes. Will gave them a lopsided smile and looked back at Johnny, who were still staring dimly down on his plate and would probably have stormed from the table if he wasn’t a grown man. Will let it be for now, though, it wasn’t the place to ask and get an honest answer when everyone could listen in.
The talk went easy around the table with help from the wine for those who were drinking it and Will got to chat a bit with Henri about chess and politics, with his father about the garden and the other small projects he had going on, and even if they didn’t partake in the conversation everyone was forced to listen to Lorina’s loud tale of her dress shopping. Even the men chuckled at it, but the women looked like they had found their new Messiah. In the end everyone was so stuffed not even Franky could force down anything more even though he had unbuttoned his trousers halfway through the meal, and the women began gathering plates and pots while the men retracted to the sitting room. Franky collapsed with his face down in Hans’ lap and the blond began stroking his partner’s hair, his fair lashes lowered.
“You never learn,” he said quietly.
“I never learn,” Franky groaned back.
“He never learns,” Will told the person by his side, but got stone-faced and quickly sat down when discovering it was Richard. For the duration of the meal he had managed to forget the kid even existed.
“I have no idea how you’re not round as a beach ball,” Henri told Will’s father as they both sat down, the former massaging his considerable paunch.
“It’s not like this every day,” the other said quietly and interlaced his fingers over his own flat belly. “It’s good, but today… Wow.”
“You’re a lucky man,” Henri told him with a warm smile, his cheeks red from laughter and the drinks.
“So are you. We’re all lucky.” Will’s father smiled around the room and Will could have swore he lingered longer at Richard, but tried to put it out of his head. “Do any of you want something to drink on the side of your coffee?” He got slowly up again in his old man fashion, his hips and knees needing some time to straighten, but when he reached the decanters he was as tall as ever and skilfully poured out whiskey and cognac according to people’s wishes. The women could be heard clucking away in the kitchen, the sound not much louder than the gurgling of the old coffee maker and Will took a deep breath before allowing himself to sink down in the couch.
“I have no idea what your mother puts in her cooking, but it has to be some sort of sleeping aid.” Will caught his eyes from slipping shut when he was addressed and sat up a bit straighter to look at Hans. Franky still had his head in his lap, but had turned his face sideways to be able to breathe.
“Good think Charlie isn’t here, we wouldn’t have had enough couches for us all to lie down on,” Will replied, then could have kicked himself.
“Have you heard anything from him?” Hans looked earnest at him, always looking so much younger than he was with his fair skin and clean-cut features and Will looked away while shrugging.
“Probably still in South-America or something,” Will muttered before stifling a yawn. There had to be something in his mother’s cooking.
The women entered again and quickly distributed coffee cups before filling them up, offered sugar and cream to those who usually took it and then some ruffling of feathers as they found their places, Richard was offered a dining chair so he didn’t have to stand around looking like a lost puppy any more, and Franky was nudged to sit upright so his mother could sit beside him. Will took his wife hand for a second as she sat down next to him, but soon got his daughter on his lap and had to let go.
“I really have missed you,” Victoria murmured into his collar, having wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I’ve missed you too,” he answered softly and stroked her back. She was tall and slender, and there seemed to be a lot of arms and legs going in every direction, but he didn’t mind.
“You need to get your hair cut.” She tugged slightly at his ponytail and he chuckled soundlessly, the vibration making them both tremble.
“I wouldn’t be your father without my ponytail,” he retorted and she sat up properly to look him in the eyes.
“I guess you wouldn’t be,” she agreed after a moment and kissed his scarred cheek before getting up and finding her place on the chair beside her boyfriend. Will gave her a tender smile before wrapping his arm around Jean’s shoulders.
“You okay?” she asked, her hands wrapped around the coffee cup.
“Yeah,” he answered and hugged her tighter for a moment. “You?”
“Perfect,” she replied with a smile and rested her head on his shoulder while watching Mildred and Franky get worked up over each other until he erupted in laughter and she huffed indignantly and looked at her husband for help.
“Don’t drag me into this, he gets it from your side of the family,” he answered calmly, making Will grin. How true that was he didn’t know, but Frank had got the red hair from their mother, and it wasn’t entirely unlikely some other stuff had followed, too. Charlie, the other one of the brothers who had inherited the trait, definitely had their mother’s hot temper.
“Men, they’re all useless,” Mildred huffed, then smiled coyly and got comfortable on the couch again. “Just tell me when you’re ready for cake.”
“Not yet,” Henri answered immediately and burped. “God, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to kill us.” His promptly slapped his arm, but they both calmed down quickly.
“Where’s Johnny?” Mildred looked from one face to the other, but they all gave her the same blank look.
“I think he went to the bathroom,” Richard muttered in the end and chewed his lip.
“He’s been gone a while in that case,” Will’s father said with a look at his watch.
“I’ll check, see if he’s got stuck or something,” Will said and got up. He doubted he would find his brother at the loo, but he still had a good idea of where to find him and a quick look out the kitchen window confirmed his suspicion. He quickly put on his boots and jacket before jogging across the yard to where his younger brother was standing, looking out over the village further down in the valley, a cigarette to his lips.
“Five fucking minutes of peace,” he muttered as he heard Will approach him.
“It’s just me,” Will answered quietly. “You’ve started smoking again?”
“Not really,” John answered and dropped the butt on the ground before putting it out with his foot. “I just needed to get away.”
“Understandable,” Will answered and squinted out over the rooftops. “Going through a rough time?”
“I’m fine.” The answer was defensive and the younger stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Sure?” Will knitted his brows and looked at him.
“Yeah. Stop getting in everybody’s business.” John raised his shoulders defensively, either against the cold wind or at his brother’s intruding.
“I’m not,” Will protested feebly.
“You are.”
“I’m just trying to help. Tell me if you need anything, okay?”
“I need you to get off my back.” John looked hard at his older brother, using the inch or so he was taller than him for all it was worth. Will nodded and rubbed his hands together.
“There’s coffee inside,” he said instead before heading back, looking forward to gulp down some of the hot liquid.
Once inside he found the family spellbound by a fancy tale of Frank’s, which he was just finishing off with “Then the bloody cat ran and hid under the couch!” which was met with healthy laughter from all of them and Will sat down almost unnoticed, even his mother seemed to have temporary forgotten about Johnny.
“We still haven’t got the paint off the floor,” Hans said when they had calmed down again. “There are still red streaks all over the living room.”
“Maybe you could paint it all red,” Richard said shyly, which Franky beamed at.
“We should!” he exclaimed and Hans groaned.
“We’re not paining the floor red,” the blond said patiently.
“But it would be so cool! And we could do the walls turquoise or something!” Franky grinned from ear to ear and almost bounced where he sat.
“It’s your fault, Milly, for giving him coffee so late,” Hans told his partner’s mother, but she just chuckled before placing a hand on her second youngest son’s shoulder.
“Franky, a red floor goes with almost nothing. It would look absolutely awful,” she said with an understanding smile.
“What would you know,” Franky huffed and shrugged off her hand. “I say we paint it red!”
“Then you have to go with a shiny red, not barn red,” Lorina put in, obviously intrigued by the idea.
“Yeah, a dark red with not too much yellow in it, more blue,” Franky said thoughtfully and nodded. “But not too dark either.”
“You’ve done it now,” Victoria told her boyfriend with a titter before kissing his cheek. Will gave them a dark look, but was soon distracted by his wife turning his head towards her and kissing his chin. He tried smiling at her, but it only turned into a quick tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“We could look at some colour samples tomorrow,” Lorina suggested to Franky, having jumped on the possibility of a new project. “That is if you want an old hag getting all up in your business.”
“What, are you bringing Mum?” Franky answered with feigned surprise and got two elbows in his sides. “I’m only joking, for god’s sake,” he grumbled unhappily.
“Watch it or I’ll come just to spite you,” Mildred answered, but Franky ignored her.
“It would be nice to see the floor as it is now first, though,” Lorina said. “Getting an idea of what we need to cover up and how the room looks now.”
“Sure!” Franky was grinning from ear to ear again. “Bring Vicky and Frenchy here, they need to see the shop.”
“We’re staying here,” Victoria quickly put in. “Grandma and Grandpapa have a room down…” Her voice trailed off as her uncle was more interested in describing his living room than listening to her.
“They didn’t want to sleep on forty year old mattresses?” Jean asked her daughter with a tender smile. “I don’t blame them.”
“Or they wanted their privacy,” she answered with a short shrug. “I don’t mind Dad’s old room, though, it’s cosy.”
“Yup, AC/DC posters scream cosy,” Will said under his breath, but smiled at her anyway.
“Grandma took down the posters and burned them years ago,” Victoria told him gravely and he could feel the blood draining from his face before she began laughing. “Sorry, Dad. Don’t worry, they’re still there and I’ll take good care of them.”
“You could have given me a heart attack,” he said sternly, but couldn’t get angry.
“And you, Richard? Where are you staying?” Jean asked.
“Um… Mildred offered me a room here,” he answered quietly and stared at his knees.
“A different room,” Victoria supplied drily with a look at her father. He gave her the look right back.
“How was the trip over here, though?” Jean quickly changed the subject and snuggled better into the crook of her husband’s arm.
“Great. We took the train, and it was much more comfortable than I would have thought. It’s fun riding with Grandpapa, too,” she said with a short look at Henri before lowering her voice, “but it a change didn’t hurt.” Jean laughed and obviously saw her point very well.
“School?” Will asked shortly and couldn’t help himself from leaning forward a bit.
“Good! Very good!” Victoria answered with a huge smile. “It’s tiring, so I’m glad we had a few days off now, and that Grandma is babying me with having dinner ready for me and doing my laundry before I even notice it needs to be done.”
“She’s spoiling you,” Jean laughed.
“That’s what grandmothers are for!” her mother informed her from across the coffee table.
“I’m helping out a bit, though,” Victoria insisted.
“You’re helping out a lot,” her maternal grandmother assured her. “You and Richard are keeping us young and alive, making sure we don’t just rot away in front of the TV.”
“I doubt you’d be able to rot away anywhere,” Franky told her with an earnest look.
“Stop hitting on my girl,” Henri chuckled to him. “I need her to keep track of my pills!” They all laughed, but Will had to quickly retract his legs to make way for his mother who scurried into the kitchen.
“More food?” he said with a sense of doom.
“Cake, I assume,” Jean told him as Johnny slinked into the room again, brought a dining chair over to the coffee table with him and sat down beside Richard. The cake was soon placed on the table along with more coffee and although he took a piece of cake, Will gave up all pretext of wanting to socialise. He let his wife handle the talking and picked up what scarce news there was from that, but otherwise didn’t speak or even listen much unless directly addressed. The women seemed to be more talkative than ever, Franky jumped at anything he could make a crazy idea out of, and Henri supplied the occasional male comment followed by a deep chuckle, but the remaining three men had either given up or hadn’t the courage to speak up.
In the end the others thankfully had had enough, even though the women couldn’t shut up while clearing the table or even when getting dressed, and Lorina was close to giving several black eyes as she tried telling a riveting story while putting on her coat, which ended with her husband pinning her arms to her sides and marching her out the door with her scarf fluttering behind her.
“Dad?” Victoria tapped her father’s shoulder and he quickly turned around, having put on one boot but not yet done up the laces.
“Yeah?” He was tired, but tried giving her a reassuring smile. She returned it and put her arms around him, hugging him for a long time.
“I’ll always love you, no matter what,” she said into his chest before looking up at him.
“I know that,” he mouthed back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I’ll always love you, no matter what.”
“Even if I’m dating a dirty Frenchman?” Her eyes gleamed with mischief for a moment, but soon softened again.
“I said I’ll love you, I didn’t say anything about him,” he answered quietly and kissed her forehead. He could feel her vibrating with silent laughter before letting go of him and seeking out her mother.
The drive home was easy mostly because he had driven it so many times, but it was first when parking the car he realised he had been blinking far too infrequently and his shoulders hurt like he had been beaten up. They had hardly spoken a word on the trip back and he had only answered her in one syllable words, but it was okay. Now they were finally home he went in and up the stairs without glancing at her, didn’t kick off his shoes before he was in the bedroom and collapsed face-down on the bed. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep yet, but he desperately needed absolute peace, quiet and dark, just for a little while.
