Chapter 19: Gamer Con

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

“It’s too early to tell how advanced the sarcoma is,” Dr. Yamada told him in the anteroom. “After the GI scope, we can ascertain her lymph system’s involvement. But I’m afraid to treat it aggressively because of her fragile state.”

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

The short Asian doctor pursed his lips and nodded compassionately. “I wish I had a better answer, but I don’t,” he replied softly. “Everyone is different. I suspect your mother’s constitution was frail before the virus.” He held a binder of her inpatient treatment records and flipped to her history and physical. “Her records indicate she was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease in her twenties—given her abdominal distress, I’d guess this comorbidity significantly impacted her rapid decline.”

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

The doctor didn’t reply immediately, “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’m afraid her immune system may be too weak—so she won’t benefit from chemo or radiological treatment. Eventually, she’ll succumb to the sarcoma or a more serious issue, like pneumonia.”

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

“I’m sorry, Peter,” he replied. “I don’t know the answer.”

Kathy moved in with him after his mom was hospitalized, and they acted like any young couple. They shopped, ate, walked, and had sex every chance they could. Jeremiah kept his distance unless needed. He signed off on Peter’s Graduation packet, New Student admissions, and enrollment paperwork at GRC. He worked with the boy on his driving—accompanying him for an hour every few days.

He kept his promise to her on Friday, June 1st, with an all-day adventure in downtown Seattle. They toured the Science Center, holding hands like young lovers, and watched RoboCop 2 on the IMAX screen. They visited the Coliseum—soon to become Key Arena. It was the venue for next week’s Computer Game Developers Convention, and they gushed at the thought of being a part of it. He made early dinner reservations at the Metropolitan Grill and loved watching her enjoy it. Afterward, they stopped at Starbucks on Pike for coffee for the drive home. It was magical for them both, and they ended the day making love for hours.

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

“What...?” he murmured back. He cracked one eye half open to see 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, earning a grumble from the girl spooning him. He pulled the covers up to her shoulder as he slipped out of bed and grabbed his shorts. He deftly put on his feet and stepped over to the door, where he heard subtle commotions from the kitchen.

The aroma of fresh coffee, sizzling bacon, and warm bread greeted him as he stepped into the living room. He blinked away from the sleep as he recognized the shapely 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 just his briefs. “Good morning, sleepy head!” she greeted. Then her eyes widened at his new height. They dropped 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 flip the bacon with her tongs. “I slept in my old bed for a while, but it 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, dude! I gave the ladybug a complete makeover!” She referred to her old red ‘73 VW Beetle. “She has a bigger 1800cc engine now and a new tranny and exhaust. I got a new paint job, too—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?”

“Yep, 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.” She accepted the taller girl’s warm hug and peck on the cheek.

Kathy sat down silently, thanking her lover for the coffee. “Thanks, babe,” she said after testing. “What are you studying?”

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

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

Minutes later, they were 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 see Mom,” she said softly. “I haven’t contacted Delaney or Pol yet, but we talked over Winter about going to Cannon Beach for a few days. Besides that, I’m here to decompress and maybe shop for Mexico.”

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

“Gamer-Con?”

“Computer Game Developer’s Convention,” Peter explained, pushing his plate away. “We’re going to represent the company and get some publicity for our games.”

Ronnie nodded. “Yeah, definitely.” Then she quizzically eyed 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 ignore a sexy Manga doll with glitter, lace, and a scandalous outfit?” Besides her obsession with rock concerts and hair bands, Kathy loved fantasy, whether Dungeons and Dragons, Renaissance Festivals, or Comic-Cons with creative cosplay. Peter knew the allure she had when she dressed as a medieval dame, pirate wench, or Twi’lek.

“Now I’m intrigued,” Ronnie grinned and slid her chair back to collect dishes.

Peter raised 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 seemed somewhat lucid, but he knew she didn’t recognize Veronica despite her reminders. It was heartbreaking to see their once vibrant mother in such a state. He saw it affecting his sister as she dabbed her eyes with tissues. Finally, she returned to the anteroom, removed her mask and gown, and fell into Peter’s arms, sobbing. He held her as stoically as he could despite his own reddened eyes. After leaving the hospital, they went to Key Bank to add him to her checking account with deposit privileges. Kathy stayed behind to clean and reorganize his bedroom, making space for more of her belongings. She was gone by the time they got home.

Peter convinced Veronica to accompany him in the BMW so he could drive them around town. He considered behaving erratically to bait her into being a backseat driver—but she was too absorbed in thought.

“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. “I’m just trying to figure out what happens to us after she passes,” she shuddered as she spoke the last word. “What will happen to you, Petey?”

He grabbed a cart from the entryway and let her put her purse in it. “Our attorney, Scott Bales, is 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 the Court will approve it.”

“But what about Dad? You said he’s been trying to get his paws on the rest of the settlement...” She grabbed a cereal box and placed it next to the coffee. “Could he file for custody or ... whatever?”

“Conservatorship,” he replied. “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? But I’ll be damned if I let him have a penny of the settlement.”

“I can always take a year off school and—”

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

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 home. When they arrived, 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 on his tiptoes, peering into the living room window. He honked his horn, startling the man and causing him to turn with a sour expression. “Can you get 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 standing defiantly beside the front porch. “Fucking asshole!” he growled, killing the motor before getting out.

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

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

He saw a less friendly expression on his son’s face. “You won’t live here alone with Janet too sick to watch over you!”

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

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

They 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 say about a minor living alone.”

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

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

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

“Asshole is trying to assert himself as a fatherly figure again,” Peter replied. He called Jeremiah’s number.

“Jeremiah Tobias Whitaker III ... at your service,” the man answered. “How may 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.

“Perfect. As long as she’s present, he has no leg to stand on—no pun intended.”

“I’m not letting her ruin her college dreams because of mom’s condition.”

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

He understood his mentor’s message and grinned. “Yes! Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

Roger pushed his authority and stalked after her. “Now, wait a damn minute!” he snarled.

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

He stopped and regarded her with open animosity. A siren echoed in the distance.

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

Roger stepped back uncertainly. “Alright! Ronnie put the tear gas away! I’m not doing nothing but—”

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

Fifteen seconds later, a black and white squad car blocked the driveway. Two male police officers got out and approached the confrontation. Veronica nodded towards them and put her pepper spray back in her bag.

They quickly separated the two, with one escorting Ronnie back to the Datsun to gather her statement and intentions. When she explained her presence and their circumstances, Peter and Kathy nodded and added their sides, briefly mentioning the last time the man had shown up uninvited and was asked to leave.

Roger stood before his truck while the two policemen conferred. Soon, they stepped over to talk to the older brunette.

“Ms. Shipley, I’m 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 and Peter’s father. Is that correct?”

She nodded but explained his abandonment, the divorce, and the court ruling. Peter provided a better description and offered a copy of the decree, which the officer accepted. The four walked onto the porch, and Peter unlocked the front door for 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 to pull a file folder. He handed the officer a copy of the decree and Ronnie another. “You may keep them,” he said. I made extra copies in case this came up.”

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

At Peter’s urging, she agreed, and the officer stepped out to confer again 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.