Chapter 11: CGD Con

On Sunday, May 27^th Janet was transferred to a special isolation room for neutropenic precautions. All her caregivers and visitors had to don personal protective equipment to protect her from aberrant microbes and germs. Peter spent most of his visits in an anteroom watching her through a window. On the rare occasions that she was lucid, he would gown up and enter her room. She was placed on oxygen shortly after she was admitted, as well as a broad-spectrum antibiotic through her IV.

“At this stage, it is too early to tell how advanced the sarcoma is,” Dr. Yamada told him as they stood in the anteroom. “After the GI scope, we will be able to ascertain how involved her lymph system is. But at this point, I am afraid to treat it aggressively because of her fragile state.”

“I don’t understand how she got so sick so suddenly,” Peter said. “You mentioned last time we were here how Freddy Mercury has lived with AIDS for a couple of years now. You’d think all the drugs, alcohol, and tobacco would have made him even more vulnerable.”

The short Asian doctor pursed his lips and nodded compassionately. “I wish I had a better answer for you but I do not,” he replied softly. “Everyone is different. I suspect that your mother’s constitution was frail even before her exposure to the virus.” He was holding a thick binder that contained her inpatient treatment records. He flipped it open to her history and physical. “Her records indicate that she was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease in her twenties — given the severity of her abdominal distress I would venture to guess that this comorbidity alone has had a significant impact on her rapid decline.”

Peter rubbed his tired eyes with his hands and sighed wearily, “She’s dying, isn’t she?”

The doctor didn’t reply immediately, “At this point, I would classify her condition as guarded. She may improve somewhat, once we help her body fight these inflammatory responses,” he replied.

“But?” Peter vocalized the unspoken caveat.

Dr. Yamada shrugged uncomfortably, “I am afraid that her body’s immune system may be too weak as it is — thus she will not benefit from chemo or radiological treatment. Eventually, she will succumb to the sarcoma or a more sinister insult to her system, such as pneumonia.”

“How much time does she have left?” Peter asked as his voice nearly cracked.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” he replied. “I just do not know the answer to that.”

Kathy essentially moved in with him after his mom was hospitalized and they behaved like any other young couple. They shopped together, ate together, took walks together, and had sex every chance they could. Jeremiah kept his distance unless his presence was required for whatever reason. He signed off on Peter’s Graduation packet and his New Student admissions and enrollment paperwork at GRC. He also took the time to work with the boy on his driving — accompanying him for an hour or so, every couple of days.

He honored his promise to her on Friday the first of June, taking her on an all-day adventure in downtown Seattle. They toured the Science Center, holding hands like young lovers, and watched RoboCop 2 on the giant IMAX screen. They checked out the Coliseum — soon fated to become the Key Arena, where the Computer Game Developers Convention would be held next weekend and bubbled with excitement at the thought of being a part of it. He made early reservations for their dinner at the ‘posh’ Metropolitan Grill and enjoyed watching her take in the experience. Afterward, they stopped at Starbucks on Pike and grabbed coffee for the drive home. It was a magical time for them both and they climbed into bed bursting with romantic energy that quickly devolved into a long, sensual love-making experience.

The next morning, he felt her stir beside him and mumble incoherently.

“What...?” he murmured back. He cracked one eye half open he saw her nostrils flaring in the dim dawn light.

“I said, ‘You’re making bacon,’ and it smells heavenly,” she replied turning over to nestle into his side.

He sniffed and agreed with her. The smell made his tummy rumble. ‘What the...?’ He sat up suddenly and earned a grumble from the girl trying to spoon him. He pulled the covers up to her shoulder as he slipped out of the bed and grabbed his shorts. He deftly placed his feet on and stepped over to the door where he heard a subtle commotion from the kitchen.

Opening his bedroom door permitted the full aroma of fresh coffee, sizzling bacon, and warm bread to greet him. He blinked away the sleep in his eyes as he recognized the slender figure of his sister humming to herself in front of the range. “Ronnie?” he mumbled as he stepped into the living room, scratching his head.

She turned and regarded him in nothing but his briefs. “Good morning sleepy head!” she greeted. Then her eyes widened as she saw him standing at his former height. Her eyes lowered to his titanium prosthetics and Nike court shoes. “Whoa! You got feet again!”

He nodded absently as he walked across the room and went straight for the coffee. “When did you get here?”

“About six hours ago,” she replied, turning back to the skillet to flip the bacon with her tongs. “I slept for a while in my old bed but it just felt strange.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t hear you drive up,” he remarked, squinting as the sunlight poured through the kitchen window.

She grinned at him. “Oh man, I gave the ladybug a complete makeover, dude!” She referred to her old red ‘73 VW Bug. “She has a bigger 1800cc engine now and a new tranny and exhaust, too. I even got a new paint job — thanks to you. She runs so good you can hardly hear her idling.” She looked back and her eyes lit up as she glanced behind him. “Hey, Kat!”

He turned back to see his sleepy girlfriend shuffle out of the bedroom wearing a thin tank top and shorts. He turned back to grab another cup for her.

“Hey Ronnie-kins,” Kathy replied warmly. “Are you on Summer break too?”

“Yup, but I’m only here for two weeks. Then I’m going to Cancun with some girlfriends for a week before we head back to Pullman.”

Kathy went to the table and sat down silently thanking her lover as he handed her a cup of coffee. “Thanks, babe,” she said after testing it to ensure there was just enough coffee to go with the cream and sugar. “What are you studying, anyway?”

Veronica handed a platter full of French toast to her baby brother and the bottle of syrup. “I’m completing my Pre-Vet undergrad program right now. In three more years — with any luck, I will be accepted into the Veterinary Medicine program.”

“Are you serious?” Kat exclaimed. “That is so freakin’ cool!” She grabbed plates and silverware, while the older brunette finished with a pile of scrambled eggs.

A few minutes later they were all seated around the table, enjoying breakfast and catching up.

“What are your plans this week?” Peter asked as he stuffed his face. He had forgotten how much he loved his sister’s French toast.

“This morning, I want to go see Mom,” she said softly. “I haven’t contacted Delaney or Pol yet but we talked over the Winter about going down to Cannon Beach for a couple of days. Other than that, I’m just here to decompress and maybe do some shopping for Mexico.”

Kat bounced in her seat excitedly. “Let’s go shopping together! I need a costume for Gamer-Con this weekend ... ooh you should come by and check it out!”

“Gamer-Con?”

“Computer Game Developer’s Convention,” Peter explained, pushing his plate away. “We are going to be there representing the company and seeing if we can get some publicity for our games.”

Ronnie nodded. “Yeah definitely.” Then she turned a quizzical eye to the other girl. “Why are you wearing a costume, again?”

Peter snorted, “She associated ‘Con’ with Comic-Con and looks for any excuse to dress up.”

“Hey! It’s fun,” Kathy replied defiantly. “And how many nerdy gamers do you think will walk by ignoring a sexy Manga doll with glitter, lace, and a scandalously short skirt?” Besides her absolute obsession with rock concerts and hair bands, Kathy was an avid enthusiast for all things fantasy, be it Dungeons and Dragons, Renaissance Festivals, or Comic-Cons with all its creative and colorful cosplay. Peter knew full well the allure she could present when she made herself up as a medieval dame, pirate wench, Twi’lek, or an out-of-this-world femme fatale straight out of Dragon Ball Z.

“Now I’m really intrigued,” Ronnie grinned and she slid her chair back and began collecting dishes.

Peter held up his hand. “I got clean-up, Sis. You cooked.”

She regarded him skeptically, “Who are you and what have you done with my little brother?”

Kathy rose to help him, “He’s right, girl. Relax. We got this.”

An hour later Peter stood in the anteroom watching his sister sit beside their mother. Janet appeared somewhat Lucid but he could tell she didn’t recognize her daughter despite the numerous times Veronica reminded her. It was heartbreaking to see the once vibrant woman reduced to such a wasted state. He could tell it was affecting his sister, by the way she dabbed her eyes with nearby tissues. Eventually, she gave up and returned to the anteroom where she tearfully removed her mask and gown before falling into Peter’s arms, sobbing piteously. He held her as stoically as he could, despite his own reddened eyes. After leaving the hospital he took them to the Key Bank so that she could add him to her checking account with depositing privileges. Kathy stayed behind to clean and reorganize his bedroom to make space for more of her things, as she gradually moved more and more of her belongings over to his place. She was gone by the time they had returned home.

Peter had talked Veronica into accompanying him in the BMW so that he could drive them around town. He considered behaving more erratic behind the wheel to bait her into being a backseat driver — but she was too deep in her thoughts to bite.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he pulled into the Safeway parking lot.

She sighed as she grabbed her bag and joined him outside the car. “Just trying to figure out what happens with us after she passes,” she shuddered as she spoke the last word. “What will happen to you, Pete?”

He grabbed a cart from the entryway and let her put her purse in it. “Our attorney, Scott Bales, is working on trying to get me emancipated. Since the house is paid for and I’m done with school, he and Jeremiah feel it’s a safe bet that the Court will go for it.”

“But what about Dad? You said he’s been prying around trying to get his paws on the remainder of the settlement...” She grabbed a box of cereal and placed it next to the coffee. “Is there any chance he could file for custody or ... whatever they call it?”

“Conservatorship,” he replied. “And it’s always a possibility, I suppose. If I weren’t handicapped it would be less likely. But who knows what the State will do if it comes down to it? But I’ll be damned if I let him have a single penny of the settlement.”

“I can always drop out of school for a year and...”

“No,” he interrupted bluntly. “None of this falls on your shoulders. You worked too hard to get where you are today.”

She couldn’t hide the relief in her eyes as she nodded, quietly. They decided on several meals for the next week and shopped accordingly, before heading back home. When they arrived home, they found the all too familiar Dodge Ram parked in the driveway.

“Oh, fuck me!” Peter growled as he pulled up to the sidewalk. Roger Shipley was standing on his tiptoes peering into the living room window. He honked his horn, startling the man and causing him to turn about with a sour expression. “Can you get the fuck out of my driveway so I can park?” he demanded.

Veronica muttered under her breath and climbed out the passenger door. Peter watched her storm up the driveway and confront the older man as he stood defiantly, next to the front porch. “Fucking asshole!” he growled, killing the motor before getting out as well.

“I’m just checking up on y’all while your mom is laid up in the hospital,” Roger was declaring haughtily. “Sue me for giving a shit!”

“Like you ever gave a shit about us before!” Ronnie snapped back, getting up in his face. “Get your ass gone from here before I call the police!”

He turned to see an even less friendly expression on his son’s face. “You ain’t gonna be living here all by yourself with Janet too sick to watch over you!”

“So, you’re gonna suddenly step up and become ‘Father of the Year’ now?” Peter retorted with a snarl.

“Last chance,” Ronnie warned as she pulled her phone out of her purse.

They all turned when they heard the poorly muffled 4-cylinder engine approaching from the street. Kathy pulled up behind the M3 and killed her engine with a backfire.

“Go ahead and call,” Roger challenged. “Let’s see what they have to say about a minor living all by himself.”

“Fine,” she retorted and dialed the number, turning away.

Peter turned away from the man and walked back toward his girlfriend who was getting out of her car with a concerned look on her face.

“What’s going on?” she asked him quietly.

“Asshole has decided to try and assert himself as a fatherly figure once again,” Peter replied. He took out his phone and called Jeremiah’s number.

“Jeremiah Tobias Whitaker ... at your service,” the man answered. “How might I serve you, good sir?”

“My dad is back, and being an asshole,” Peter replied. “My sister is visiting from College and is on the phone with the cops.”

“I see,” he drawled. “How old is your sister?”

“Nineteen,” he replied curiously.

“Perfect then. As long as she is present he has no leg to stand on — no pun intended.”

“Yeah, but I refuse to let her ruin her college dreams because of mom’s condition.”

“Nor should you. But your father doesn’t know that.”

The lightbulb went off as he understood what his mentor was telling him. He grinned. “Yes! Thank you.”

“Of course. I will contact Mr. Bales and see about obtaining a restraining order. I’ll be in touch...” he disconnected.

“So, what do we do?” Kathy asked as she sat back against the Datsun’s hood.

“I guess we sit here and enjoy the show until the cops show up,” he smiled back. He couldn’t see her eyes behind her mirror-finished aviators.

Ronnie hung up her phone and turned back towards the arrogant man. “They are on their way,” she advised him and then turned her back on him to join Peter and Kat on the sidewalk.

Roger decided to push his authority and stalked after her. “Now you just wait a damn minute...” he snarled.

She whirled on him before he got within five feet of her, reaching into her bag and removing a small canister. “No! You wait, asshole! You step the fuck back or I’ll Mace your ass!” she shouted, aiming the device at him.

He pulled up short and regarded her with open animosity. A siren could be heard in the distance.

“Go ahead! Fucking try me!” she hissed as she stood between him and her brother and his girlfriend.

Roger took a step back uncertainly. “Alright! Ronnie just put the damn tear gas away! I’m not doing nothing but...”

“You just being here is a threat to us!” she yelled as the siren got closer.

Fifteen seconds later a black and white squad car pulled up to the driveway and blocked it. Two male police officers climbed out and walked up to the confrontation. Veronica nodded towards them and placed her pepper spray back into her bag.

They quickly separated the two, with one escorting Ronnie back over to the Datsun where he began gathering her statement and what her intentions were. When she explained her presence and their circumstances, Peter and Kathy nodded appropriately and added their sides as well, including a brief mention of the last time the man had shown up uninvited and was asked to leave.

Roger was made to stand in front of his truck while the two policemen conferred and discussed the situation. Soon both of them stepped over to talk to the older brunette.

“Ms. Shipley, my name is Officer Collins,” said the other officer, who had just finished questioning their father. “Before we continue, can I see your identification?”

She shrugged and dug into her bag for her wallet, from which she pulled her driver’s license. The officer studied it closely before returning it.

“Thank you,” he said. “Now this man claims to be your father as well as Peter’s. Is that correct?”

She nodded but went on to explain the nature of his abandonment and the subsequent divorce and the ruling of the court as she understood it. Peter provided a better description and offered to give him a copy of the decree, which the officer accepted. The four of them walked onto the porch and Peter unlocked the front door allowing them to enter while the other officer remained outside with the disgruntled adult.

He led them into his room and went to a file cabinet from which he pulled a file folder. He handed a copy of the decree to the officer and another to Ronnie. “You may keep them,” he said. “I made extra copies in case this ever came up.”

Officer Collins skimmed over the decree with his lips pursed and then nodded. “Very well then,” he said. “This is pretty solid. We will remove him from the premises and warn him against future intrusions.” He turned to Peter’s sister. “I assume you will be filing for a restraining order against him so I recommend pressing charges. He will not be arrested if he leaves voluntarily, but it will generate a police report that your attorney can utilize.”

At Peter’s urging she agreed and the officer stepped out to confer once more with his partner. The other officer returned and took a statement while Collins escorted the man off the property and firmly suggested he not return.

The following day Scott filed a petition for a restraining order on the grounds of parental neglect and hostile presence. The hearing was held on the following Monday before the honorable Henry Davis — and the motion was denied outright, with no explanation. Scott was gobsmacked and after seeking the advice of both his father and grandfather (who were both practicing attorneys) — he filed an appeal. The appellate court hearing was scheduled for two weeks hence on Monday the 14^th of June. Scott’s grandsire took the liberty to check into the case and discovered — to their outrage, that the appellate judge assigned to the case was none other than the Honorable Henry Davis himself. With a call, the family law firm filed an injunction with the State Supreme Court objecting to the blatant miscarriage of justice.