Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter Seven
The weeks passed and Christmas was approaching. George sat in the kitchen, deep in thought. He and Casey still hadn't been able to pin down Derek, and last weekend, George had had enough. He called his ex-wife, Abby.
"What happened between the two of you, George?" Abby asked. "Derek's been even more impossible than usual. We hardly ever see him, and when we do, he's angry and sullen. So what did you do?" she asked accusingly.
George rolled his eyes, remembering why he and Abby split up in the first place. "Why do you always assume that I'm at fault?" Dumb question, he knew, considering he was.
"George, I was married to you, remember? I know better than anyone how you can be." She said with a smile in her voice.
He didn't ask her to elaborate on what she meant by that. "Well, that was a long time ago. What is happening between Derek and I is better left between us, Abby. Can you just give me his address? I'm going to see him myself." Being the flaky person that he was, George had misplaced Derek's address months ago and hadn't bothered to ask for it again.
"Sure. I hope for both your sakes that you iron out whatever it is that's wrong – at least before the holidays get here." Abby said, and then added, "Are you going to stop by and see Marti?"
George was conflicted. He would love nothing more than to see his youngest, but at the moment, he had his mind on his oldest and the relationship that hung in the balance. "I don't think so. Just don't tell her I was in town, OK? I'll see her in a few weeks when she comes for Christmas."
"OK, George, if that's what you want." Abby said disapprovingly before hanging up. George sighed and turned to head to the basement.
So he had set out the next morning, driving for over an hour until he arrived at the apartments where Derek lived with two roommates. It was a short jaunt to the university campus, which was very convenient for them. He pulled up in front of the building and turned off the car, then looked at his watch. It was 11:45 a.m., which meant that George had a pretty good chance of catching Derek at home. He was probably still sleeping. According to Casey, Derek no longer had a job to go to, but then again, it had been a few weeks, so he might be working somewhere else now.
George took a deep breath and exited the car, walking slowly up the walkway. He searched the names on the mailboxes until he came to a tab that read "Michaels/Venturi". He pushed the button and waited to be buzzed in.
"Who is it?" A scratchy voice came over the intercom.
"Hi, I'm Derek's dad. Is he here?" George asked, shifting from foot to foot.
The door buzzed open and George went through it, following the numbers until he came to 104. The apartment door was already ajar and George pushed it open and looked around tentatively before entering. He took in the surroundings. The place was trashed, to put it mildly. 'They must have had a party last night.' George thought to himself.
"Hey." A voice sounded to his right and George turned quickly, taking in what must be a girlfriend of Derek's or his roommate, unless the girl was his roommate, but he didn't think so.
"Hello. I'm George Venturi." He said politely, offering his hand for her to shake.
The girl, a short waif of a thing with short, spiky multi-colored hair, looked at his hand before reaching out to take it. "I'm Gwen, a friend of Derek's. He's still sleeping, but I'll go wake him and tell him you're here." She said before turning and heading down the hallway.
George looked around for a place to sit. His knees were shaking and he felt faint. "I'm afraid of my own son." He muttered to himself. After hearing how upset Derek had been at the discovery of Casey's and his affair, George's stomach had been in knots. He pushed some beer cans to the floor and sat down on the edge of the couch. 'Casey would freak if she saw this place,' he thought idly as he waited for Derek to appear.
In Derek's room, Gwen was trying to wake him up. "Derek!" She said, shaking him roughly. "Dammit, wake up! Your dad's here to see you!"
Derek groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. "Go away, Gwen." He said, his voice muffled.
"No can do, party boy. Now get up and go face your father." Gwen was Derek's best female friend at college. They had grown close in their years there together. Derek had confided to her about what he had discovered between his father and stepsister and Gwen had been there to comfort him. Theirs was a mostly platonic relationship: At one time they tried dating, but they figured out they were better off as friends. There were times, however, when they would be between significant others and would fall into bed with each other, mostly after a night of drinking. They had an unspoken agreement: There were no expectations of a relationship other than friendship. Gwen hated the term "Friends with benefits," but that's exactly what they were.
"Tell my father he can go fuck himself." Derek said angrily into his pillow.
Gwen rolled her eyes. "No matter how wrong he is, Derek, I will not tell him that. He drove all the way here to speak to you. The least you can do is tell him yourself." She turned and went to the mirror, just now realizing that she was basically in her skivvies, wearing a thin white tank top and girl-boxers. She searched the room for her clothes and pulled them on, then headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth. "Derek," she said around her toothbrush, "I'm going out there and telling him you'll be right out. Don't make a liar out of me." She spit and rinsed. "Get your ass out of bed, NOW!" she shouted.
Derek jumped and sat up in bed. "Geez, woman! Not so loud! I'm nursing a major hangover here!" He groaned and stood up, rubbing his head.
Gwen smiled and headed to the living room. "He'll be right out." She said to George, who was sitting stiffly on the couch with his hands in his lap. They stared at each other until Gwen said, "Would you like some orange juice or something?"
George smiled at her manners. "Sure, that would be great." His mouth felt like the Sahara, but he wasn't sure drinking the acidic juice was the best thing for his roiling stomach. Nevertheless, it was liquid, and he would take anything right now.
She came back and gave him the glass before starting to clean up the place. "I'm sorry for the mess. What was supposed to be a 'small get together' turned into a big blowout." She said apologetically. She gathered cans and threw them into a big garbage bag. After that, she went around and emptied the various ashtrays that were scattered around the apartment. 'So that's what that smell is,' George thought distastefully. The place had a stale smell of beer and smoke and George longed for some fresh air.
"Not a problem, I remember what it was like in college." He said smiling at Gwen.
She nodded, but said nothing. At that moment Derek appeared in the hallway, wearing a pair of jeans, a dark blue t-shirt and a hard expression on his face. "What are you doing here?" he asked George rudely.
George rose quickly from the couch. "I've been trying to get a hold of you, but I obviously haven't had any luck. I got tired of waiting and decided to come see you myself." He said evenly.
Derek sneered. "Well, you saw me. Now you can turn around and leave." He said before heading into the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the refrigerator.
George raised his eyebrow but said nothing. Gwen, however, wasn't going to let that one pass. "Derek. Beer in the morning? Give me that." She said, reaching for the can.
Derek held the can out of her reach. "Gwen. Don't you have somewhere to be?" He asked, his eyes heavy on hers.
She sighed and put her arm down. "As a matter of fact, I do." She gathered up her purse and cell phone, then slipped on her shoes. "Talk to you later, Derek." She said. He said nothing, just nodded. Turning to George, she said, "Nice to meet you," before exiting the apartment.
George and Derek stood in the kitchen, staring each other down before George spoke. "So, is Gwen your roommate?"
Derek said nothing, just stared at him. George tried again. "How's school going? You should be done in a few days for holiday break, right?"
Still nothing.
Finally Derek spoke. "Is this what you came here to talk about?"
George looked down and took a deep breath. "No it's not, but you're not giving me much here. I do want to know what's going on your life, you're still my son."
Derek snorted but answered his father's questions. "No, she isn't my roommate, she's just a friend. My roommates are out of town, and school is the same." He paused, then continued, "Happy now? OK, goodbye, drive safe." He said, dismissing George before walking around him to the living room.
George turned and followed him, choking down his anger. He counted to 10 before saying, "Derek. I need to explain to you some things . . . about Casey and me." He said, his voice low.
Derek stopped walking, still facing away from his father. He slowly turned and looked at him. The expression on Derek's face threw him for a loop. It was one of anger, sadness, fear and despair, all rolled into one. The force of it almost knocked George over. "Can we sit and talk for a bit?" He asked Derek softly, motioning to the couch.
Derek said nothing, but moved to sit, settling heavily on the couch. He took a drink of beer before putting the can on the end table. George sat in the chair opposite him and tried to gather his thoughts. On the way here, he went over what he wanted to say in his head. However, now that the time had come, and his son was sitting in front of him waiting to hear what he had to say, the thoughts were gone, leaving words swirling around in his head. George felt a headache coming on. "First of all, I'd like to tell you how very sorry I am for hurting you. It was never my intention. You are my son, and I love you." At this, he moved his eyes up to check Derek's reaction and was stunned to see tears in his son's eyes. He angrily brushed them away when he noticed George looking at him. George swallowed the lump in his throat and continued. "After Nora died, I was knocked flat. I didn't want to live, Derek. I couldn't get up in the morning. There would be days when I didn't leave my bed. Edwin would have to come down and physically get me up to shower and eat.
"After Marti and Lizzie left . . . there was no light in the house. Only a dark cloud that seemed to hover over us." George paused, thinking back to those days when everything was gray, when food had no taste, when there were no colors – all of his senses were dulled. He was in a tunnel, walking deeper and deeper into it, the darkness choking him, making him claustrophobic.
He continued, "I wouldn't have made it without Casey . . . she took care of me," He stopped when he heard Derek snort. Ignoring it, he went on, "She made me want to live again, and I'm not talking about the physical stuff when I say that. Just the fact that she was there everyday . . . putting her own needs on the back burner while keeping me together, not to mention handling everything else around the house and still working part-time . . . well, I honestly don't know how she did it."
Derek said nothing, but George could tell that he was listening intently. He continued, "It was like Casey said. We never meant for it to happen. We were just two people who were thrown together in a terrible situation who turned to each other for comfort. The problem was, once it happened, we couldn't seem to stop. It was almost like an addiction . . ." George said, trailing off, his eyes glassy with memories.
Derek couldn't take anymore. He shot up from the couch and started pacing. "Didn't it ever occur to you that you were taking advantage of her?" He spat at George while raking a hand through his hair. "Jesus Christ, Dad! The girl had just lost her mother, and here you come – moving right in for the kill. You're supposed to be the parent, not the other way around! And parents aren't supposed to comfort their children with sex! My god, didn't you even think about these things?" he asked, looking at his father incredulously.
George hung his head in shame. He had no defense for any of that. He knew what he did was wrong, but he also knew that both he and Casey were adults, and Casey would certainly dispute that George took advantage of her. In fact, she was the aggressor on many occasions. He thought back to a time when Casey had ambushed him as soon as he walked in the door . . .
He snapped out of it, ashamed at where his thoughts were taking him. George lifted his head to look at Derek, who was standing there stiffly with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for an answer. George breathed in deeply. "Derek, I know what happened shouldn't have happened, and maybe I did take advantage of Casey, although at the time, that wasn't my intention. But let's remember a few key things here, Derek. Number One: Casey and I are adults. And number two: She is my stepdaughter, we are not blood related. I know that doesn't mean much to you, but obviously, it's a big deal to me." George looked at Derek, willing him to understand. "Anyway, Casey and I decided to end it for good. We don't want our family to be torn apart by this." He stood up and slowly approached Derek. "Son, Casey and I feel horrible for what happened and we just want our family back together again. We're thinking it's time for Marti and Lizzie to come home. We need to move on and try to get things back to normal as much as possible." Looking at Derek, he reached out and grasped his shoulder. "We would love it if you came home for Christmas, the first since Nora . . ." George trailed off, swallowing thickly. "What do you say?"
Derek stood there looking at the hand on his shoulder, then moved his eyes up to his father's face. It was obvious that George was torn up about what had happened. And Derek felt badly about that – for about a minute. He shrugged his father's hand off and leaned over, grabbing the beer and gulping it down. "Yeah, well, that's nice and all, but you should have thought of that before you starting fucking her." Derek was finding it hard to even say Casey's name, let alone look at his father's face. And the thought of them together, their bodies rutting against each other, the sounds he heard ringing in his head . . . it made his blood boil. "I'm going to have to pass on Christmas, pops. I already have plans." He looked at his watch. "Now, if you don't mind, I have somewhere to be." He said, essentially dismissing his father.
George saw red. He moved toward Derek and shoved him against the wall, pinning him there with his hands. Derek's eyes widened and he looked shocked. He had never seen his father so angry before. "Derek, I will not have you disrespecting me like that. I've apologized, Casey's apologized. We understand that it will take awhile for you to get over this, but you need to stop pouting and grow up." He said in a deadly voice.
Derek's face went from shocked to angry. "Get off me, before I do something I won't regret later." He spat in George's face.
"Dammit, Derek! Why are you being so obstinate about this? I can understand your anger, but it's bordering on ridiculous!" George said, breathing hard in Derek's face.
Derek struggled against his father until George let him go, stepping back. "I'm ridiculous? I'm ridiculous?" Derek ranted, his voice getting louder with each word. "Ridiculous is a 40-something-year-old man fucking his 20-something stepdaughter! While his sons are in the same house! Did you two fuck when Marti and Lizzie were there? Could you at least keep it in your pants then?" Derek was raving now, the words falling from his lips without thinking. "How many times did you do it? Did she seek you out or did you just take her? How does she like it, huh? Slow and gentle or fast and rough?" Derek asked hatefully, his face red.
Stunned, George stared at him before deciding he couldn't listen anymore. "Enough!" He yelled loudly, shutting Derek up. "Derek, what has gotten into you? How dare you ask those questions of me! Have you no respect for your sister? You make her sound like a slut. She's not. She's a young woman who was lost after her mother died. I was a man who was desperate for something, anything, after losing my wife suddenly. It happened. It's over. That's it." He said resolutely. George said nothing after this, instead examining Derek's face carefully. There was something here that he was missing, and it was bothering him.
Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. It all made sense now and he couldn't believe he didn't see it before. His heart sank and he hoped he was mistaken, but somehow knew that he wasn't. "I can't believe I didn't see it before," George said softly, making Derek's head snap up. "You . . ." He took a deep breath before venturing further. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"
At this, Derek's face turned red and a panicked look flashed across his features before disappearing. "What the hell are you babbling about?" he asked his father scornfully.
George ran his hands through his hair. "You have feelings for Casey, don't you? That's why you were beyond upset at discovering our involvement." George said, his stomach sick at the thought. "Oh god. Derek. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. How could I know?" George asked helplessly, shaking his head.
Derek barked out a laugh. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about. Now I want you to get out. I'm late for work." Derek said, his face betraying nothing, but George could tell by the look in his eyes that he was rattled.
George got out his keys. He figured he had said what he needed to say, and along the way discovered something that made everything make sense. He would need to think about this, and the trip home was the perfect time to do it. "OK, Derek. I'm leaving. But I'm not giving up. We need to deal with this, and I still want you to come home for the holidays. Marti will be there, and you know how disappointed she would be if you weren't there." George said, hoping guilt over his little sister would make Derek cave.
Derek nodded sharply but didn't commit one way or the other, instead opening the door and signaling for his father to leave. George sighed and walked past him, entering the hallway and slowly making his way toward the main door. Derek's eyes followed him for a while before he turned and shut the apartment door soundly behind him.
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