Disclaimer
Okay folks, I don't own them but I am borrowing the Pryor clan and their friends from Dick Clark and the NBC people. No harm and malice is intended nor will any come to them.
This story has not been proof read, so I apologize for any possible spelling, grammar or the wrong usages of any word. Please read and enjoy, and I look forward to your comments. All I ask is that you be polite and not drag me too hard over the coals.
Thank you for reading my first posted non-Smallville fiction. I hope you will enjoy my interpretation of American Dreams.
Summary
The entire Pryor family is turned on its ear when Jack's long lost brother returns to town looking to rebuild old connections, and his arrival may destroy all of their American Dreams.
He Ain't Heavy… Chapter One
The morning sun rose over Philadelphia like any other day in the early spring of nineteen hundred and sixty four. The constant rain of the last three days had finally let up, and the bright yellow orb was allowed to shine over the awakening metropolis if only for a few short hours on the warming day.
The Pryor home, a modest house on the east side of the city was frantic with the early morning rush of a mother with only one cup of coffee in her system, trying to get her four children off to school on time. The lovely blond woman stood at the kitchen counter spreading mayonnaise over what seemed to be a sea of bread slices before her as a butcher paper wrapped pound of bologna sat to the side near a roll of tin foil waiting to wrap each tasty sandwich before she stuffed them into four individual small brown paper bags along with a slice of left over chocolate cake from the supper before and the preferred fruit of either an orange, apple or banana chosen earlier by each child. Her mind was already in a state of dizziness knowing that once the kids were prepared, that she would have to ready herself for her own day at school, that she hardly heard the frantic yell from her eldest son one floor above as he stood near the top edge of the stairwell.
"Mom!" The strikingly handsome seventeen years old yelled. "Did you wash my gym uniform like I asked, last night? I need it for practice today."
The blond elder woman made no response as she placed a thick piece of the select meat over half of the laid out slivers of bread before her. Had the kitchen not been a whirlwind of activity by her three remaining children, she may have heard the plea from the son referred to by the family and friends as JJ.
"Let go," the third child and second daughter of the family demanded as she held firm to the bottle of sticky maple syrup attempting to pry it loose from her younger brother's vice like grip.
"I'm not finish with it," the young boy insisted as he looked down at the two pancakes that sat on his large plate that were smattered with the oozing substance.
"You are so," the bigger child with the name of Patty returned with a scowl. "You already have too much syrup and you can't even see the pancakes anymore."
"Nah-ah," he protested pointing to a small sliver of the pastry that was still expose to warm air of the room. "I missed a spot."
"You don't need anymore, Will," she made one last tug of the bottle forcing a release from the grip of his small hands.
"Mom," Will's head turned sharply a full one hundred and eighty degrees to spot his mother who was standing with her gaze in the opposite direction behind his chair. "Patty won't let me have the syrup," his small voice shrilled through the room.
"Patty, let Will have the syrup," Helen, the mother, said with a sigh placing a final piece of bread over the last sandwich.
"But he already has enough," Patty insisted scrounging her nose at him while she poured a modest amount over her own short stack. "Sister Martin said that people who eat too much sugar are more likely to have problems with their own blood sugar when they get older."
"Nah-ah," Will protested again. "JJ eats lots of sugar and he fine enough to play football."
"JJ is too young to be sick," Patty shot back with one hand on her hip as she placed the bottle down on the table just out of Will's reach. "You have to be real old to get sugar sickness," the ponytail on the back of her head bobbed as she spoke. "Like Mom's age or something."
"Thank you very much, Patty," Helen gave her a cursed look, as she turned to them and reached across the table for the bottle. "It might interest you to know that I was in perfect health at my last check up."
"Mom!" JJ voice called through the hall off from the kitchen again.
Helen held the bottle of the brown substance over the exposed section of Will's pancake and deposited a small drop no larger than the head of a thumb tack to nude pie as she called back. "What is it JJ? You better hurry before you are late for school."
A frustrated JJ stood in the doorframe wearing his best school uniform and letterman jacket. "Have you seen my track uniform?" He asked with his arms wide spread. His light brown hair had already been combed back in its perfect JJ Pryor look and his remarkably handsome face was frown with worry. "I thought I asked you to wash it last night."
"And I did," Helen shot him a creased brow. "I just wish you kids would stop thinking of me as an all night dry cleaners. I washed and ironed it like you asked."
"Well where is it?" His tone was still frustrated, but he tried to temper himself while speaking to his mother.
"I put it on top of your dresser by the window where I thought sure you would see it first thing this morning," she explained.
JJ gave a heavy sigh and slumped his shoulders as he looked exasperate at her. "Great, that's the only place I didn't look." He turned sharply picking his gym bag off the chair in the hall where he had dropped it.
"Have some breakfast first," Helen called out as he walked away.
"No time," JJ answered back passing his sister Meg, talking on the phone in the foyer. "I have to meet the guys to go over some scrimmages we were planning on trying out after class today."
"Shush," his beautiful blond younger sister warned as he passed on his way to the staircase.
"Get real little sister," he gave a look of disgust. "Tell Roxanne what ever she has to tell you can wait the next five minutes until you meet her at the bus stop."
"For your information," He snapped back as he began his climb. "It's not Roxanne, it's Jenny asking about a homework assignment she missed."
JJ rolled his eyes giving no response as he continued his journey up the flight of stares.
Once he was out of earshot, Meg removed her hand from over the mouthpiece and called softly to her friend. "Okay, he's gone. Now what were we talking about, Roxanne?"
Patty was the next to travel up the hall past her sister as she collected her book bag and coat.
"Meg," Helen stuck her head into the hall from the kitchen. "You need to eat something before you leave for school. Will you please hang up and tell Roxanne you will talk to her later."
With a sigh of disappointment, Meg tossed her free hand in the air. "Roxanne, I have to go. We can talk on the bus, but I am telling you, if you slit the side of your school uniform skirt one fraction of an inch higher, then sister Mary will have you expelled like she said she would."
The ringing of the doorbell interrupted the hubbub of the morning. Both Meg and Patty stopped mid point in what they were doing and took a long look at each other. The mornings in the Pryor house had always been hectic, but they were usually routine, and hardly ever deferred from the norm. A visitor other than one of the children's friends or their uncle Pete was hardly ever a beginning to the day.
"I'll get it," Patty yelled waking from her surprise at the sound. Even when a friend or family member would show up in the morning, they were hardly ever with out being expected.
Meg turned away to finish her conversation with Roxanne as Patty slipped on her coat and walked towards the door. She reached for the knob and pulled the partition open to reveal a good-looking man in his mid thirties smiling back at her. He was about JJ's height and wore long brown wool over coat that partially covered the braces that seemed wrapped around his legs.
"Hello," Patty tried to make her words sound polite, but her face still held a puzzled stare. "Can I help you?"
"Meg," the stranger stifled a smile as he eyed the young girl. "Are you Meg Pryor?"
"No," Patty scoffed. "And I am happy about that every day of my life."
"I'm Meg," Meg stepped in behind her sister. "Do I know you?"
"You use to," he grinned nervously. "But maybe I should let your father tell you about it. Is he home?"
"He's at work," Patty blurted out much to Meg's discomfort of letting the stranger know that he was not near by incase a quick rescue was needed.
"But he's not very far," Meg interjected trying to keep a wall of defense around themselves.
"Oh," The sandy brown haired man let his head lower slightly in disappointment.
The tense second of silence was broken by Helen's voice at the opposite end of the hall as she held a clean plate and a dishcloth in her hands. "Richie?"
Her call of his name got his attention as his head perked up with a large toothy smile. "Helen," he said in recognition.
Helen made her way up the hall slowly, never once removing her eyes from this man as Meg and Patty stepped back to reveal a full view. Her face was a jumble of emotions from shock and surprise to a confused joy of seeing the stranger.
"Oh Richie," Helen shoved the plate and towel into Meg's hands as she rushed into a happy hug with him. The two of them wrapped their arms around each other for a good long minute as the girls gave each other a choice glance.
"Dear God," Helen pulled away covering her mouth, still in a slight state of shock.
"I told you on the phone a few weeks back that I would be coming," he said with a small tear trickling from his eye. "I wanted to see you, Jack and the kids again."
"But I never thought you would actually show up again after all this time," Helen gasped with tears in her own eyes.
Richie let his head droop again. "I know," he sighed. "I should have made the effort a long time ago."
JJ had made his way half way down the steps when he surveyed the group before the door. He stopped and saw that his mother was beside herself with emotions. "What's going on?" The young sports jock took on a defensive pose.
His mother looked up at him and then moved her eyes slowly to the open door again. JJ followed her gaze and saw what she was seeing. He felt his legs stiffing as if he were about to hit a brick wall and he slightly lost his breath taking sight of their guest.
"Uncle Richie," he said softly under his breath grasping tightly the banister.
The sight of his young nephew almost fully grown overcame Richie as the tears began to flow freely. He took a step into the door and looked up at him. "Jackie?"
JJ seemed to regain his composure and pushed himself away from the railing and rushed the down steps into his uncle's waiting arm. "Uncle Richie," he cried into the elder man's coat. "Oh my God, you're back."
The realization finally hit Meg as she watched the two men. "Oh my," she gasped lightly. "Uncle Richie."
Patty looked over at her mother who was enjoying the small reunion. Her young face was filled with confusion and shock. She was about to voice a question when Will hobbled out from behind his mother and said, "Who's Uncle Richie and why does he have braces like mine?"
Richie Pryor pulled away from JJ wiping his eyes and looked down at the young nephew he had never met before. He leaned forward and held out his gloved hand. "Hello," he smiled sweetly.
"Will," Helen nudged him forward before her. "I would like you to meet someone."
Will turned his head upwards to her.
"This," Helen gestured with her right hand toward Richie. "This you're your Uncle Richie. He's your Daddy's other brother."
Dropping his head to meet Richie gaze, Will wiped a hand across his lips as if he were putting in the smile that politely crossed them just after. He held out his right hand and took a slight grasp of his uncle's hand. "Hello," he said softly. "It's very nice to meet you."
The bus stop at the corner was still a cold place to stand even as the morning sun was beginning to claim the day. JJ Pryor wished that he had accepted his friend's offer for a ride into school on that morning since Jack Pryor who usually drove them left early for work, but he decided it were perhaps best to stay with his brother and sisters to field any questions they might have about the mornings events. He knew very little about their Uncle Richie after his disappearance, but unlike the rest of them, he had at least a memory of who this man was in their lives.
"How old were we?" Meg asked randomly as she shook in the morning cold.
"I don't know," JJ Sniffled. "I think I was just turning six and you were about three."
"Why did he leave?" Patty turned from her watchful eye on the street.
"I don't know that either," JJ replied rubbing his hands against his body inside his coat pocket. "All I remember is Uncle Richie would come over at least three times a week, especially after church on Sundays, and he would spend hours playing games and talking with me and Meg."
"How come I don't remember him?" Patty asked with a puzzled look.
"Because you were a baby," Meg told her trying to help JJ. "If you were even born at all yet."
"Where has he been?" Will had the next question. "Why haven't I met him before?"
"Uncle Richie," JJ leaned over his little brother to speak. "He left about twelve years ago and just dropped out of sight. As far as I know, no one has heard from him since. Not even Dad or Uncle Pete."
"That's so strange," Meg added in as her eyes drifted in thought. "Why would someone just disappear like that and not try to stay in touch with their own family? I mean who had what to hide?"
"I don't know," a sad look over took JJ's face. "All I can remember is the last night anyone had seen him. He came to the house to talk to Mom and Dad. I didn't realize it at the time, but he was really upset about something and I think he said he had just come back from Grand Dad's place."
"Do you remember what they talked about?" Meg asked as Patty and Will turned to listen.
"No," JJ shrugged. "I was still young, and Mom sent me off to bed. She said she would come and tuck me in, but I don't think she did that night." His mind wandered back to the best his young mind could remember of that time. "I know there was allot of yelling after a while. I think it may have even woken me at one point. Then it all ended with the loud slamming of the house door and then a car door and a racing engine."
"That must have been Uncle Richie storming away," Meg said under her breath.
"Well where did he go?" Patty questioned with an annoyed sigh.
JJ looked up again into the moving traffic before them. "I don't know," he replied. "All I remember is Dad said he wouldn't be coming by the house anymore, and that I should not try and see him on my own."
They all stood silent for a few minutes as the people and cars rushed by.
"Why didn't you do something?" Will finally said looking up at his brother. "You should have gone after him."
"I would have, if I could," a great welt of pain seemed to come to JJ's eyes. "Uncle Richie was my best friend when I was a kid. I remember crying for days after he left. First in front of Dad and Mom to maybe guilt them into letting me see him, and then I would just go off into my room and cry alone."
Meg took the chance and looped her right arm through JJ's left arm that was hanging from his pocket.
"It must have been at least three years before I stopped asking about him," JJ sniffed again, only this time it was unclear if his runny nose was from the cold air his emotions. "But I think even as a kid I could sense that I was hurting Dad just to ask him the question. So eventually I gave up and just pushed Uncle Richie to the back of my memories and I haven't given him much thought again until now."
The heaviness of the moment was lifted as they heard a friend's voice calling out to them. "Hey guys!"
They all looked up and saw Meg's raven haired best friend Roxanne with the pretty face and shapely form approaching.
JJ could not control himself and turned away with a snicker. The three older Pryor children were all taken aback with her appearance. She was wearing the usual East Catholic High School uniform, but the pleaded skirt had been slit on one side six inches higher than the standard for the school's dress code.
"Oh my God, Roxanne," Meg tried to stifle a giggle. "You are going to be in so much trouble from Sister Mary Margaret. She is diffidently going to expel your."
"Don't be silly," Roxanne tried to pass off her friend's fear with a wave of her hand. "Slit skirts are the latest style. Didn't you see what those girls in last months Teen Scene?"
"You aren't one of those go-go dancers," JJ could not stifle his snickers any longer. "I don't think even Dick Clark would ever let you wear a dress that revealing on American Bandstand."
"It's the new fashion," Roxanne placed her defiant hands on her hips. "People will come around."
"But I don't think sister Mary Margaret will," Patty spoke up. "You look like one on the painted ladies down on Main Street that they always warn us about."
Will, who had been staring at her bear thigh exposed through the slit of the skirt finally looked up to Roxanne's delighted smile at his special notice of her. "Aren't your legs cold?" he asked as the other three broke out with laughter. The other students who stood near by waiting for the bus also joined in. All of which only helped to turn Roxanne's face a bright red color.
The laughter and snickers continued until the bus pulled up and carried them all away. The middle-aged driver did not hide his stare at Roxanne as she made her way down the aisle. When Meg saw that his eyes were following her friend's legs, her snickers were met by Roxanne's raised eyes brows that told her 'I told you so.'
Richie Pryor sat at the Pryor family kitchen table waiting with nervous hands tapping silently against the Formica top. His sister-in-law Helen had excused herself after cleaning the table and went to make a phone call in the hall. The water was heating on the stove and she promised to return shortly.
After a few anxious minutes, she returned to the room and attended the boiling pot.
"I'm sorry about that," she said turning off the stove and removing the pot from the burner. "I had to call the school and leave my professor a message that I would be late. Then I tried Jack at the store, but he wasn't there."
"You go to school?" Richie asked turning to her with a smile.
"Oh, yeah," Helen replied placing the pot on the table before him. She continued as she went to retrieve two cups and saucers from the cabinet. "It's just a literature class for now, but I'm thinking about taking a few more in the fall semester."
"That's great, Helen," Richie smiled. "I never thought I would see the day when Jack didn't raise the roof about his wife leaving the kitchen and educating herself."
"A lot of things have changed since you were last here, Richie," she said returning a final time with the sugar and cream severs. "Jack has really eased up on some things in his old age."
Richie grinned at her little joke as his sight drifted to the tabletop. "How is Jack these days?" he asked softly. "How is my brother fearing in this world he has carved out for himself?"
"Very well," She poured him a cup. "There was a small health scare a few months ago and then the disappointment of JJ not getting a scholarship to Notre Dame, but Jack is doing fine, all things considered and even working on opening a second store."
"That sounds promising, and Jackie plays football?" He asked eying his cup.
"Yes," she replied with a proud smile. "JJ is like Jack in so many ways, and football is one of their shared interest."
He took the cup and swirled the brown liquid around for a few minutes. "Did you tell him I called?"
Helen was reluctant to answer, but she did. "No," her words were short. "I tried, but I couldn't."
Raising his head, Richie's gaze met hers. "Is he still that mad at me? Does my brother still hate me?"
"I," she was hesitant and chose her words carefully. "I don't think hate would be the right word. I think Jack feels more disappointed and hurt than anything else."
Richie ran a hand over his mouth. It struck Helen how he had very few similar facial and body traits with the other Pryor men. He lacked the dark hair and instead wore a closely cut full main of sandy brown locks with a few hints of gray. His face also lacked the square jaw and was more rounded but far from heavy set. He looked a good ten years younger than his actual age and he spoke with a careful words. "I never meant to hurt anyone, Helen. I just had to do what I felt was right."
"I know," she nodded slightly. "I tried to get Jack to understand that. I honestly did, but he just shut himself off from any mention or conversation about you."
With a sunken head, Richie studied his coffee again. "I never meant to hurt him. Jack was the last person in the world I ever wanted to upset with my decisions. When I made the choices I did, I always knew that it would not sit well with my folks, but I wanted Jack to understand why I had to do what I did. I needed him to understand and he didn't."
Helen placed a hand over his. "Neither of you ever gave the other a chance to understand or to work it out. He put up a wall between you, and you walked away without a fight."
His eyes drifted up to hers. "I had to, Helen. After the fight we had in the living room that night, I knew I could not stay around here and live with his rejection of me. My God, Helen," he gasped back a breath. "You know how we grew up together. Jack was always more than my big brother. He was my saving grace, my hero, and the only reason I wanted to even wake up some mornings. But then to have him just turn and shut me out like that, it was so much more than I could bear and I knew if I stayed around, I would only hurt each of us more by trying to win back his approval."
"I remember the stories," Helen studied her own cup. "Jack had always agonized that you were the one who had to go through all the suffering. He always thought that if he had been the one born with the weaken immune system, then he may have been able to live with it a little easier than you, and you would not have had to feel like you had to earn the affections of your parents."
"They were good people and meant well," Richie nodded. "I was never mistreated, but they didn't know how to deal with a child with my special needs and they just ignored me as much as possible. I could see the disappointment in their eyes every time they had to look at me. I heard them talking a few times that they should have listen to the doctor and should have been careful not to get pregnant after she had gotten so sick with the births of Ted and Jack because her body was not strong enough to carry me to full term."
"They were very strict and proud Catholics," Helen smiled slightly. "They would not go against the church stand against birth control, but they also had no idea that the results would be so harmful for you."
"We all did the best we could," he forced a grin. "Mom and Dad were just not very good at hiding their disappointment in what they felt they had done to me."
"Jack was great, though," a genuine smile crossed his lips. "Ted was always cold and distant, the promise child, and Pete was still a few years off, but Jack took me under his wing like no other brother ever could. He wanted me to have as full and rich of a life as possible. Even when I had dreams of becoming a football player or winning the play offs, Jack took those dreams as his own. He fore filled them for himself and allowed me to share in that glory. He was my closes friend and hero all wrapped up in one great person."
Helen nodded knowingly for a few seconds. "I remember Jack telling me how much he enjoyed watching you revel in his victories, but I don't think it truly hit me of how much of an impact it had made on Jack's life until Will became sick and almost died with the polio."
"Polio?" he repeated. "Is that why he wears the brace?"
"Yes," she sighed her reply. "I mean Jack and I were always happy that God allowed us to keep our son, but the ravages that the decease took on Will's tiny body and the implications of what it would mean for his future almost destroyed Jack. It was the only time that I remember him allowing your name to be brought up in his presence again. He prayed that Will would not have to go through all the pains of being an out cast like you had to endure, but at the same time he struggled with trying to brace himself for a future that was as demanding as his past."
"Jack was my saving grace. Are Jackie and Will, close?"
"JJ is the best older brother any boy in Will's condition could ever want," Helen's prideful Mother's smile beamed. "Even with such a large difference in age, JJ has always had a shared closeness with Will that he has never display with anyone else."
"Then that will get Will through allot," Richie shook her hand that was one his. "I am a firm believer in a family's love helping to conquered all."
Helen pulled her hand away with a slight blush. "We have a good family, Richie," she assured him. "Our kids may not always get along, but they are great kids."
"I truly hope I get to know them someday," Richie took his first sip of the coffee.
Cocking an eyebrow, Helen drank from her own cup with a smirk. "Then why don't you start tonight at dinner."
The invitation startled her brother in law. "What?"
"Yeah sure," she thought out loud. "Jack won't be at the store for most of the day because he's out submitting bids to the new hotel they are building on First Ave, so the first chance you may have to meet up with him would be here again at dinner."
"Are," he stumbled on his words. "Are you sure?"
"Yes I am," she nodded defiantly. "Jack may not be so happy that we pulled a surprise like this, but I am sure that deep down he will be delighted to see his little brother again. Maybe I'll ask Pete over too."
"That would be great," Richie smiled. "I've missed my baby brother Pete, but I have never had the nerve to call him and get his take on everything that had happen. Maybe he could help me calm Jack down when we see each other."
"Then it's set," Helen took another sip. "Be here around six thirty."
"I will," Richie agreed as he struggled with his braces to get up again. "I guess I should get going for now and let you get on with your life before it all comes crashing down on you tonight."
Helen stood up with a giggle and helped him to his feet. "Don't you worry about it. I've learned how to handle my husband in the last twelve years you been gone. He'll come around."
Once they had made it to the front door, Helen helped him put his coat back on as he struggled to get the leg braces just right. She watched for a few seconds and then asked, "Richie, when did you get the braces? I don't remember you ever needing them before."
"I didn't," he turned to her pulling out his gloves. "I was actually very healthy the past few years. It seemed I had finally out grown most of my childhood deceases and even the few adult ones I had picked up along the way."
"Then why the braces?"
"I was in a real bad car accident about a year ago," he said with low tone that seemed to chance his whole mood. "I had broken my back, and the doctors doubted that I would ever be able to walk again." He placed his gloves over his hands and then smiled up at her. "But I proved them wrong."
Helen hugged her brother in law one final time and he left promising to return that night for the family meal. She closed the door behind him and leaned against it with a heavy breath. "Helen Pryor," she sighed out loud. "What have you gotten yourself into?"
The morning sun had given way to afternoon cloud cover as Pete Pryor, the youngest of the four Pryor sons, and a uniformed police officer, made his way into the appliance store that Jack Pryor owned. He quickly surveyed the room of mostly televisions and entertainment needs. Off in the corner, he saw his brother's assistant, Henry Walker finishing up with a small older woman who was making a 'time payment' on her year old TV. Once the transaction was done, Pete rushed over to the counter.
"Hey Mister Pete," Henry greeted him with a big smile placing the customer card back in the file draw. "What brings you all the way cross town in the middle of the day?'
"Hi Henry," Pete still scanned the room. "I'm looking for my brother. Is he here?"
"No sir," Henry shook his head. "But I expect him back any minute now. He said he was going to lunch with one of those big wigs from the hotel chain, and then he planned to come right back here."
"Good," Pete tapped his hands nervously on the counter. "I really need to speak with him."
Henry could see that Pete seemed ready to jump out of his own skin. "Is there anything I could help you with, Mister Pete?"
"No Henry," Pete said cocking his head to look out the front window. "I just need to tell my big brother something."
"Alright," Henry sighed. "But if I were you, I would try and find a way to calm down a little. You look close to spooking yourself."
Pete looked up at the taller man. Henry was an African American who stood a full six inches taller than Pete's modest frame and was a good fifty pounds heavier. While not a small man him self, Pete seem vastly tiny against the larger man.
Dawning the dark hair and squared jaw of the Pryor clan, Pete was a very handsome young man in his late twenties and made for a striking picture when he was wearing his Philadelphia police uniform. He was known as a ladies man, and Pete reveled in his player status.
"May I make a suggestion," Henry asked smiling down at Pete. "You seem very tense today, Mister Pete. You need to find a way to unwind a little."
Pete spun his head to the window and then again to Henry with a fast swift motion. "What are you thinking, Henry? Should I go to that massage parlor we busted on Fulton Street last week and get myself the full treatment?"
"Actually," Henry gave a hearty laugh. "I was thinking more on the line of setting yourself down in front of one of these televisions we got here, and try to relax watching some of these afternoon shows my wife keeps trying to tell me about." He rubbed the back of his neck with his large hand. "She calls them soap opera serials, but I think they are just a big waste of a person's time."
"We have a few of the guys wives down at the station who watch those shows," Pete smiled for the first time since entering the room. "If the truth were known, I would even say that some of the guys have watched a few on their days off."
"Wouldn't that be the God awful truth," Henry chuckled. "But my wife swears by her Secret Storm serial. She says she and the misses from her work sit down and watch that show every afternoon."
Pete turned and saw someone walking past the first window. "I'd like to take your advice, Henry," he said looking at the figure approaching the door. "But I don't think I will be needing it. Here comes my big brother right now."
Jack Pryor stood a slight bit taller than Pete but had the same similar dark features with the squared jaw line and remarkably handsome face. His only true difference from any of his brothers was a slightly thinning hairline and a few crow's feet wrinkles around the eyes when he smiled or grimaced.
Not aware of the impatient brother who waiting for him inside, Jack made his way into the shop slowly while sipping coffee from a heavy paper cup reading the remainder of the morning newspaper he was force to set aside in order to make his meeting. His small attaché' case sat nuzzled under his lower arm and his open over coat waved softly in the cool breeze as he made his way into the store.
The bell over the door chimed as it was hit by the glass partition and a second later Jack's voice boomed out, "I'm back Henry. Were there any problems while I was gone?" He spoke while never once looking up from his paper.
"Nothing I can't handle Mr. Pryor," Henry who was dusting a floor console near the door said with a grin. "With the exception of that Nervous Nell brother of yours." He gestured over to Pete who stood next to the service counter in the back looking like he were about to wet himself if he had to wait a moment longer.
Jack glanced over at his brother and then at Henry. "What is Pete doing here?"
"He didn't say," Henry shrugged his shoulders.
At that point, Pete could wait no longer and made a direct line towards Jack who still stood near the door. "We need to talk," he said in a hurried voice.
Jack placed his cup; paper and briefcase on the console Henry had just cleaned and pulled his coat back from his shoulders. "If this is about money, Pete, then know that this well has been taped dry. I haven't won that hotel bid yet."
"It's not money," Pete stop sharply nearly bouncing on his feet. "Have you spoken to Helen yet, today?"
"No," Jack said eyeing his brother suspiciously and handing his coat to Henry's waiting arms. "I been in meetings all morning and haven't spoken to my wife since breakfast."
Pete kept looking at Henry who was standing next to his boss waiting for further instructions.
Jack noticed his unease and then looked deep into his brother's eyes. "What is this all about, Pete?"
With another look over his shoulder at Henry, Pete swallowed hard and wiped his lips with his fingers. His eyes were troubled and filled with concern as he looked again into Jack's face. "It's about Richie."
The words seemed to drive through the room like rushing water from a dam that had been broken wide open and rushed at them. The color seemed to drain from Jack's face for a split moment as his younger brother tried to get a gauge on his reaction.
"Henry," Jack called out to his assistant without turning. "Could you bring my things into the storeroom while my bother and I have a talk?
"Sure, Mr. Pryor," Henry nodded collect the items from atop the television and carry them and the coat into the back room. All the while, the two Pryor brothers stood not once taking their eyes off each other.
"What do you think you are doing, Pete?" Jack growled in a very low voice. "We both know to never bring up that name."
A nervous smile came to Pete's face as his upper lip twitched. "Then maybe you should tell that to your wife."
"Helen?" Jack questioned. "What does Helen have to say about Richie?"
"She called me at the station this morning and invited me dinner at your house tonight," Pete told him while his eyes kept dancing looking for Jack's reactions on his face. "It turns out that the long lost Prodigal showed up at your house this morning, and Helen has decided that it would be nice to have a small family reunion."
Jack's eyes seem to change as if they were on fire, and he perched his lips tightly together trying not to clench his teeth. He wanted to speak, but could not find the words without loosing his temper, so he turned away from his brother and leaned himself against the frame of the console.
"Jack," Pete reached for his brother, but his hands were shrugged away.
"I'm okay," Jack was finally able to let his words out.
"Helen didn't want me to say anything until she could talk to you, but I just thought you might want a warning shot before she sprang it on you," Pete tried to explain his reasoning to his brother. "I'm real sorry he feels that he has to do this to you again, Jack."
"And what is he doing to me, Pete?" Jack rubbed his face with both hands trying not to let it show how upset he truly was and even force a smile. "Richie decides to blow back into town after twelve years and now he wants us to be the happy little family we never really were."
"You don't know what he wants," Pete reminded with a grimace. "For all we know he's just here to get something off his chest, and then he'll disappear again for another decade."
"But not with my family in his pocket this time," Jack slammed his fist on the television. "I watched him break Mom and Dad's hearts and then Helen's, but we were adults. We could handle the lost, but I will not stand bye and watch as he suckers my children into some family bond and then just walk out like before."
Jack turned to his brother again. "I had to watch the first time as my little six years old boy's heart was crushed by that self centered jerk, and I will not let him do the same to the rest of my family again and I will not allow him to make me stand bye while he breaks JJ's heart with Meg's, Patty's and Will's in the collection."
"Jack," Pete grabbed his brother's shoulder. "You don't have to tell me these things. I know how deep he cut into you the last time he was here. I was there for the whole thing. I remember." He paused for effect. "But we don't know why Richie is even here. I'm not saying to let him in only to hurt you again, but I am telling you not to reopen old wounds. Don't let him do that to us again."
Pulling himself away, Jack walked a few feet deeper into the store. "What should I do, Pete?" He spoke waving one arm. "Should I just turn him away before he gets a strong hold on my family again?"
Pete ran his hands through his hair. "I don't know, Jack," he shrugged. "Maybe you need to give him a few minutes and hear him out. Find out what he wants, and then send him packing."
Turning to face Pete, Jack considered what he was saying. "I will never be able to forgive him, Pete. I will never forget how he broke Mom and Dad's heart and then to just disappear like he did."
"I know," Pete sighed. "I also know that this is also about how much he broke your heart too. I remember how close the two of you were when we were kids. Even though you guys would include me in on most of your adventures, it was like you two talked your own languish and no matter how close we were, compared to the two of you, I was always the odd man out."
Jack gave him a cautious look. "We never tried to make you feel that way, Pete."
"I know," Pete shook his head. "Beside, I was allot younger than you guys, and before long I had my own set of friends and adventures. I didn't say that to make you feel bad. I am just saying that I know you guys were real close."
"Yeah," Jack agreed with a nod.
"Do you miss your younger brother?" Pete asked.
Where this conversation was going became clear to Jack as he looked into Pete's eyes. "You think I should meet with him, don't you?"
Pete tilted his head to the right slightly and rubbed his exposed neck. "I think you can answer that one better than I can, Jack. But I also have never known you to not see something through to the end."
Jack toyed with a small display sign shifting it from side to side on the shelf as he thought about the situation. After a few long minutes, he turned back to Pete again. "I'll do it. I will welcome Richie into my house one more time, but so help me, Pete. If he hurts my family again, I will kill him."
Pete could not help but swallow another lump in his throat as the intensity of Jack's words sank into his consciousness.
To Be Continued: