Chapter 17: Birthdays

“You got the list?” Peter asked, as Heather loaded Jimmy and Holly into his Jeep.

The teen waved a crumpled piece of paper at him, then shoved it back in a pocket. “Got it!” she announced. Lowering her voice, she said, “Lauren also gave me a twenty so these two could buy some presents.” She nodded towards the back seats.

It was the October birthday season for the Graham family. Lauren’s thirty-third birthday was Friday and Jimmy’s eighth birthday was Sunday, so as always, they would split the difference and have a joint birthday party on the day between. It had been worse a few years before; Gary’s birthday had been just four days later.

For the last few years, Lauren’s father Frank had taken the children out shopping for their mother’s presents, a carefully arranged ‘surprise’ that she had specified ahead of time. This year Heather had volunteered, with the covert help of Peter. Lauren felt a strange disquiet at the idea but had kept silent.

“Twenty ain’t going to cut the mustard,” Peter replied softly. The kids, especially Holly, were still at the age where gifts magically appeared from thin air, without the need for payment. He shrugged and said, “No big deal. What’s on the list?”

Peter drove through town as Heather read off the list Lauren had provided, commenting with the kids as the various desired items were announced. Several got laughs or had stories attached to them, and Peter noticed how practically everything was some form of kitchen or houseware. He pulled into the mall and parked, then everybody piled out, and with the two children in the lead and Heather in the middle, he followed the others inside.

It was Saturday morning, and the birthday party was scheduled for that evening, after the Grahams got back from Mass. They had to be home by 4:30 for 5:00 Mass, but that left them hours to shop and wander through the mall. Jimmy and Holly immediately got into an argument over which direction to go and what they were buying, with Heather playing a most ineffectual umpire, at least until Peter weighed in. “Hey, here’s what we’re going to do. We are all going this way on this floor, then go downstairs and come back the other way, and if we see something that’s on the list we’ll stop then. Okay?”

Jimmy and Holly immediately agreed, with their customary attitudes, Jimmy slightly pessimistic and wary and Holly happy and ebullient. The six-year-old took Heather’s hand and began skipping along the way, with Jimmy following, muttering about the silliness of all girls. Peter took control of the somewhat battered list and began studying it. In short order he realized that they would be able to buy just about everything from a single discount store at one end of the mall.

After a few minutes, Holly tired of hanging onto Heather, and she and Jimmy moved ahead to window shop. Peter walked next to the teen and asked, “You have something for both of them?”

Heather shook her head in the negative. “Neither!” She took the list back from Peter and stopped. Peter kept an eye out for the twosome and listened to Heather. “Ummm, why don’t I buy her the electric skillet and let these guys split up the little Crock-pot between them?”

“Doesn’t she already have a Crock-pot?” asked Peter.

“Yes, but this is a different size.” Peter rolled his eyes at this, and Heather continued, “At some point you are going to have to take Jimmy with you, so I can get him something. Did you get him something yet?”

“Yeah, I already have him covered. Uh, if I take the kids at some point, you have to return the favor. I need to buy something and don’t need them around,” he said.

Heather giggled. “Yeah? Victoria’s Secret or Frederick’s of Hollywood?” Peter didn’t answer but he did blush, which was answer enough. “Okay, but maybe I should go, too, and see if there’s anything I might get for Robby.”

“Honey, they’ve got nothing that would fit him.”

Heather reached over and swatted him in the arm. “No silly, something he might want to see me in!”

Peter laughed. “Kiddo, he’s sixteen! The only thing you need to wear for him is a smile!” They commenced walking towards the end of the mall. “Uh, has Lauren said anything to you about me?” he asked.

“No, why?”

Peter shrugged. “No reason. She just seems a little off lately, that’s all.”

Heather shrugged. It couldn’t have been that involved, she thought. Lauren had known that Peter was taking her and the children out for the day.

Peter wasn’t so sure. On the way back from Brockton the previous Sunday, he had invited Lauren and the children to his parent’s home in Springfield for Thanksgiving. She hadn’t agreed but had simply told him she would think about it, and then changed the subject. She’d been just a bit cool after that and hadn’t come over to his place during the week even once, pleading a hectic schedule. Still, he thought, if she was having a problem with him, she wouldn’t have let him out with her children. He shrugged too.

By early afternoon the foursome had managed to accumulate an electric skillet, a small Crock-pot, a new waffle iron, and some dish towels. Heather was also hiding in her handbag a Nintendo game she had purchased for Jimmy, and Peter had purchased a several rolls of wrapping paper and a few ribbons. After lunch he sent Heather and the kids off to load their purchases in the back of the Jeep and then return, to meet him in the food court, and then he had wandered back to where he had seen the two lingerie shops on the first floor.

He hesitated at the entrance to the Victoria’s Secret shop. It was the classier of the two stores, and certainly had some beautiful items, but he somehow didn’t think classy was the way to go. He suspected that an outfit which screamed ‘Sex!’ would be a better choice, so he moved further along and into the Frederick’s of Hollywood store. The choices here were much more blatant.

Surprisingly, considering his substantial experience in getting women into bed and out of their lingerie, Peter Tallman had very little experience in buying lingerie for women. He simply had never been with any particular woman long enough to buy intimate apparel. His lovers had always had their own, or had never had anything this fancy, especially the younger ones. He looked around in considerable confusion until he was rescued by the approach of a pretty woman in her early twenties.

The salesclerk had substantial experience with embarrassed boyfriends and husbands and asked if he had seen anything on any of the posters or mannequins spaced around the store. Peter blushed but pointed to a mannequin with a black ‘Merry Widow’ outfit. It consisted of a strapless corset with open cups, and garters leading down to a pair of sheer black stockings, with a long and transparent black robe to wear over it. He knew Lauren would have stiletto heels. The salesgirl managed to find out Lauren’s sizes, which Peter knew well, and pulled together the items quickly and ring up the sale. It was a surprisingly large bill, Peter thought, for something that probably wouldn’t be worn very often and when it was worn, wouldn’t stay on very long. He stuffed the garish bag inside a large bag without the Frederick’s logo and went back to the food court to meet the others.

Before driving the youngsters back home, Peter drove them over to his apartment to wrap presents. It was the first time there for Heather, and the children showed her all around before Peter could get them to concentrate on the wrapping. He left Jimmy and Holly in the care of Heather, then grabbed a roll of wrapping paper and tape and took the Frederick’s package into his bedroom. He quickly wrapped it and Jimmy’s gift, then went back to the living room to help with the rest.

Peter had Heather, Jimmy, and Holly back to the house in time to find Lauren pacing at the front door. He glanced at his watch and was surprised; they still had almost half an hour before they needed to be home. Lauren looked at him without saying anything, then ran the kids inside to wash and get dressed. He glanced at Heather, who simply replied with a shrug of the shoulders and a mystified look. When Lauren loaded the three youngsters into her minivan, she simply gave Peter a kiss on the cheek and drove away, leaving him at the house.

Peter went back to his Jeep and brought the presents in, putting them behind the couch, though he left his more personal present in his car. He didn’t know what was going on with Lauren, but he didn’t want to complicate it more. While bringing the presents in, he was interrupted when Lauren’s mother-in-law showed up. “Hi, Helen. Need a hand?” he asked.

Helen Graham put down the platter she was carrying and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, but no thanks.” She ran back to her own car and brought in a bag containing a couple of long loaves of Italian bread. “I hope you like lasagna. I made up a lot! Shirley and Frank are bringing over the cake and ice cream.”

“Beef or sausage?”

“Hot sausage!”

“Goodie!” he answered. “My grandmother was from the old country and made it with hot sausage and hot peppers, gave it a real kick.”

“I’ll have to try that someday,” she answered with an intrigued look. “So, you’re Italian? With a name like Tallman?”

“Grandma Lanzarelli married an Englishman after the war when they both made it to the states. Why aren’t you at church with the rest of the family?”

Helen waved this off. “Our family is Methodist. It was Lauren who was Roman Catholic. The deal was that Gary didn’t have to convert as long as she could raise the children Catholic. Why, what’s your family?”

“Baptist and Jewish,” he said with a smile.

“That’s an unusual combination,” replied Helen, arching her eyebrow in curiosity.

Peter nodded in agreement. “Grandma Lanzarelli was the Jew, an Italian Jew during the war. After she got out of the camps, she made it to the US and met Grandpa, who was an Englishman who had converted from Episcopalian to Baptist. Very weird at times, keeping a Kosher kitchen with a bunch of Baptists running around the place.”

“Lasagna isn’t Kosher!”

“I asked her about that once. She said some things were more important than Kosher.”

Helen laughed at this, and asked, “You said she was in the camps. The concentration camps?”

“Sacksenhausen and Belsen-Bergen. She never talked about it. She always wore long sleeves, and the only way I ever learned was when I saw her sleeves rolled up once, while she was gardening. I saw this little blue line, like a bruise, but when I asked her about it, she showed it to me, and it was numbers. It was her ID number tattooed on her arm. She never said anything else about it,” he replied. Helen wasn’t sure what to say to this, so she continued setting up for dinner. The lasagna was placed into the oven to warm up, and she began slicing up the Italian bread.

Within another half hour, the loud voices of children announced that the rest of the family had come back from church. They burst through the front door to greet their grandmother and Peter, followed by Lauren, with her parents in tow. Robby Jones followed shortly thereafter, though without presents. “I didn’t know it was your birthday!” he said.

“That’s alright, Robby. Come on in and have some dinner,” replied Lauren.

Surprisingly, though Peter had met both grandmothers before, this was the first time he had met Lauren’s father. He extended his hand and said, “Peter Tallman. Lauren’s told me about you.”

“Frank Boscow. Pleased to meet you. Shirley talks about you, too.”

“My father’s name is Frank, too,” commented Peter. The two men talked briefly about their backgrounds, Peter in computers and Frank as a shop steward at the local mill.

“Can we open presents?” asked Jimmy excitedly.

“Jimmy! We haven’t even had dinner yet!” scolded Lauren. Her parents smiled.

Helen Graham said, “Well, I just put the lasagna in to heat up. Dinner won’t be for another half hour.”

“Mom!” cried Jimmy in an anguished voice.

“Oh, all right,” allowed his mother.

“Yes!” yelled the little boy, pumping his arms in a victory salute. Peter laughed and pulled the packages out from behind the couch, and the grandparents went out to their cars and brought in presents. Lauren went upstairs to bring down a few items for her son.

Opening presents for the dual birthday was very similar to a small-scale Christmas. Jimmy was noticeably unenthused about the clothing his grandparents gave him, and considerably more interested in the Nintendo games he got from the others. Finally, Peter handed over a large box to his grandfather, to pass along.

Frank took the box and almost dropped it on the floor. It was far heavier than it looked. “Good Lord, what do you have in here, barbells?” he asked. He set it down in front of Jimmy, who immediately stripped off the wrapping paper.

“Whoa!” exclaimed the boy, his eyes widening. He opened the box and used both hands to lift out a barbell, then set it down and brought out a second.

Peter smiled. “Yeah, barbells! It’s a starter set, five-pound weights.” Jimmy looked up at him and he continued. “You wanted to work out like me, with my gym? You have to start out slow and work your way up. I can teach you some exercises with these, then you can move on up to heavier stuff.”

“Exercises? Like what?” asked the boy.

Peter grabbed one of the weights and did a quick curl. “This one builds up the muscles here,” he said pointing to his upper arm. Then he held the barbell out straight at shoulder level. “This helps with the muscles in your shoulders and back.”

Jimmy was very impressed. Using both hands he began lifting a single weight in front of him.

“I don’t know ... what if he hurts himself ... uhhhh...” his mother asked.

“Lauren, they’re only five pounds each. The only way he can hurt himself is to drop it on his foot,” Peter replied.

“I like it, honey. Kids these days are in terrible shape. He’s too skinny,” interjected her father.

Lauren gave both men a dreadful look but kept her mouth shut. She opened her own presents. Again, the two grandmothers had bought some nice blouses and slacks. The surprise came when she began opening the presents from her children. She had only given Heather a twenty; the cookware came to well above that level. She tried to ask Holly and Jimmy, but they simply said that Peter had been with them. Holly, in particular, was rather confused about the entire concept of paying for presents.

She turned to Heather. In an angry tone, she said, “You shouldn’t have. This is way too much.”

Peter interceded. “It’s all right, honey. She told me what you were interested in. Don’t blame her.”

The others were looking at her very curiously, and Lauren backed down. Then she opened the last package, a slim and flat box from Peter. She tore off the gift paper, opened the box lid, and looked down at a picture frame. It was a silver frame, old-fashioned, with a picture inside of her and Peter. She recognized the photo as one that they had taken while away for their long summer weekend. She was behind him, her arms wrapped around him and looking over his shoulder, laughing, as he grinned for the camera he had given to a shopkeeper to use.

“Oooh, that’s pretty, Mommy,” exclaimed Holly. “That’s just like the picture of you and Daddy upstairs.”

Lauren’s head whipped around to look at her daughter, then she turned back to stare at the photo. Suddenly she knew where Peter had obtained the frame. In Brockton last weekend she had commented on the frame to Peter in a store, then after leaving, he had rushed back inside, claiming he had dropped his sunglasses. It was obvious that he had purchased the frame secretly. She stared in horror at the picture, then, as it slipped from her lifeless fingers, she stood and ran crying upstairs. Moments later everyone heard the door of her bedroom slam shut.

An awkward silence settled on the room, broken only by Holly asking, her voice quaking, “What’s wrong with Mommy? What’d we do?”

Helen pulled her granddaughter over and gave her a hug. “Mommy’s all right. She just needed to go upstairs for a bit. She’ll be down soon.”

“Yeah, Mommy’s just being goofy,” said Holly’s grandfather.

Peter couldn’t remember a more embarrassing moment. In some ways this was worse than when he lost his virginity in college. He picked up the picture frame off the floor, now with a cracked glass pane, and tucked it back into the box. “Well, I think that was an obvious mistake.” He stood and headed towards the door, not looking anyone in the eye. He opened the closet and took out his coat.

Frank stood and came over to him. “I think you’re making a mistake, son.”

“Tell Lauren to call me, please.” Peter shrugged into his coat.

Frank rolled his eyes heavenward, then turned to his wife. “Will you go upstairs and sort her out?”

Shirley quickly moved upstairs and down the hall. Lauren’s bedroom door was closed but unlocked, so she simply barged in.

“Go away!” wailed Lauren. She was sitting on her bed crying, bent over, and wrapped around a silver picture frame with a photo of her and Gary in it.

“He’s leaving. Peter’s leaving,” said her mother.

“What! Noooo...”

“He’s leaving! He’s already out the door.” Shirley had to step back as Lauren jumped up, tossing the picture onto the bed, and ran out into the hall.

Downstairs, the others were mystified as Lauren ran down the stairs two at a time, then out through the foyer and out the front door. Shirley followed more sedately. “Was that what you had in mind?” she asked her husband.

“What was that all about?” asked Jimmy.

“Well, women get goofy,” explained Frank. “They meet guys and get goofy.” ‘ Getting Goofy’ was the phrase that Frank had learned from his own father to describe the antics of his daughters, Frank’s sisters, when they started falling in love and getting married. It was singularly appropriate for the behavior of his own daughters.

“I don’t want no goofy women around me!” said a horrified eight-year-old. This was greeted with various laughs and snorts of derision by the others, though Holly didn’t understand.

Outside, Lauren ran down the walk to where Peter had already opened the door to his Jeep. “No ... Stop!” she wailed, tears pouring down her cheeks. “No, don’t go, stop!” Peter turned back towards her, and she tackled him, wrapping her arms around him. “Don’t go, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she blubbered into his shoulder. She was shaking with the emotion coursing through her.

Peter tried to make sense of her, but Lauren kept repeating that she was sorry. Finally, he disentangled himself and pushed her away slightly. “Lauren, what is going on? What did I do that was so wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Stop it!” he ordered. “What is going on? You have been giving me the cold shoulder ever since we came back from Brockton. Now this! What did I do?”

Lauren sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Don’t you get it, it’s not you, it’s me! Remember the last thing that you said on the trip back from Brockton? You asked me if the kids and I could come home with you for Thanksgiving! That’s the first time Gary took me home to meet his parents - Thanksgiving! And today, going out with the kids, getting presents - that’s what Gary did, would have done. And that picture in the frame, just like the one of me and Gary!”

Peter looked at her nervously. “So, you don’t want me doing things your husband did?”

“Noooo ... yes ... Oh, God!” she wailed, hugging herself to him again. Finally, she pulled back slightly and looked up at him. “No, I do want you to do those things! It was just that I wasn’t ready. At least I thought so, but I was ready ... Just come back in, please! Don’t leave, stay, please.”

“Uh, I just asked if you wanted to come to dinner. I didn’t ask you to marry me,” he replied warily.

“I know that. Just come back in, please.” She looked past him into his Jeep and noticed another wrapped present. “Another present? What’s in it?”

Peter shrugged and gave her a funny look. “Something I didn’t think you wanted to open in front of your parents.”

Lauren’s eyes widened at this. “Well, then leave it here for later.” She kept her arms wrapped around Peter’s torso and walked with him back towards the house.

Once inside, Jimmy came up to them. “Are you going to stay goofy?” he asked his mother, eyeing her warily.

Lauren’s mouth opened in shock. That was the phrase her father had used when she and her sisters had started dating in high school. Then she laughed. “Yes, I’m being goofy.” She reached down to him and began tickling her son. “And you need to be taught a lesson in not listening in on conversations!” Jimmy scampered away, and Lauren ordered, “Grab him! He needs a good tickling!” Jimmy almost got away, but his two grandmothers ganged up on him and left him red-faced and laughing so hard his ribs hurt.

Midway through dinner, Lauren took Peter’s hand and said, “I’ve got an announcement. For Thanksgiving, the kids and I are going to visit Peter’s family.” She looked around guiltily. “In Springfield,” she added.

“Lauren, what about Brenda? You’ll miss seeing her!” replied her mother. She looked over at Peter and said, “Brenda’s our middle girl, your age. She works out in San Francisco and comes home for Thanksgiving.”

Lauren nodded her understanding but remained firm. “She also comes home at Christmas, and I’ll see her then. Oh, I just got an email this morning from Christy! You’ll get a snail mail soon. She’s coming home for Christmas, too!”

Shirley gasped and Frank gave a surprised look. “Just her? Did she get leave or something?”

“No, all of them, her, Bob, and Little Bobby. It’s not just leave, she’s being transferred someplace in Texas, and they’ll be able to spend a week here, in route!”

Peter looked at her and asked, “She’s the one in the Army? Where’s she stationed now?”

“Air Force,” corrected Lauren. “Somewhere in Sicily, near Messina, I think. Her husband Bob is a civilian contract programmer with them. Oh, this is going to be so good! They’ve been away almost three years.”

After dinner, cake, and ice cream, Lauren’s parents and mother-in-law went home. Despite the presence of cable, nothing good seemed to be on the television. When Heather suggested a game of Parcheesi, Holly agreed, and Jimmy complained. It was only when Robby admitted to not knowing how to play that he changed his mind and agreed to join in.