Chapter Thirty-Four: The Lecture

Peter woke to the sound of clanging dishes coming from the kitchen. He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand beside the bed. It read 8:45 A.M. He slowly eased his way out of bed, doing his best to ignore the stabbing pains in his ribcage and chest from his previous injuries. Gradually he made it to his feet and slipped on the navy blue slippers Elizabeth bought him for their anniversary last year. He smiled as his feet glided into the soft padded paradise for feet; they looked something you would find in a nursing home. They lacked any style or fashion sense known to mankind. But he loved those slippers, and he was not sure if he loved them more because they really were incredibly comfortable, or if it was because it was a simple gift from his beloved wife. Either way he was grateful for them at this very moment. They protected his bare feet from the cold hard wooden floors in his parents' house.

He slowly made his way down the hall and into the kitchen. He was fully prepared to hear Neal tease him about his old-man slippers, and he was ready to fire back at Neal about his fashionable pajamas and silk housecoat. Sometimes he wondered if Neal secretly had a fedora that matched his fancy silk robe; it wouldn't surprise him if he did.

Peter was surprised as he entered the kitchen to see his mother and wife were the only ones up, busy preparing breakfast. He smiled and gently wrapped his arms around El, who was mixing what looked to him like pancake batter.

She smiled as she felt his arms tighten around her waist. She turned to face him. "Hey sleepyhead. How did you sleep?"

"Great." He released his arms from her waist and turned to face his mother behind him. He reached down and gently kissed her on the cheek. "Morning, Mom."

"Good morning, honey, you hungry?" Carla patted her son on the cheek.

"Starved. Where are Dad and Neal? No, let me guess, Dad is up at the barn working, and Neal is in bed sleeping."

"Um, well, actually we haven't seen either one of them this morning." Elizabeth sounded somewhat hesitant to relay the news to Peter.

"What? Did you check the barn?" Peter was now beginning to sound concerned.

"I called Neal's phone but there was no answer. Honey, don't worry about it. I'm sure Neal is with your dad and you know how your dad likes to show people around. He probably just wanted to let you rest so he took Neal out for a bit." Elizabeth smiled and she really did want to believe that, but she also knew Neal, and she knew Peter knew Neal better than anyone and he would imagine the worst.

"They didn't leave a note?" Peter walked to the window over the kitchen sink. It looked out into the yard where the cars were parked. He instantly noticed his father's truck was missing. "Dad's truck is gone."

"Stop it. Stop worrying. I told you your father probably took Neal somewhere. They will be back soon. You go lie down and rest in the living room." Elizabeth was pointing a wooden spoon covered in pancake batter at him.

Peter could tell she meant business. He knew she just wanted him to rest and not overreact. But was he overreacting? It was Neal he was talking about, after all, and Neal knew how to find trouble no matter where he was. He pressed his lips together then relaxed them into a smile. "Okay, okay. I'll be in the living room if you need me." He turned and started towards the sofa.

Elizabeth watched as he left the kitchen; she could tell just by his mannerisms he was worrying. She called out to him, "Stop worrying. They are fine, Peter."

He chuckled at how well she could read him. "All right, I won't worry."

"I don't believe you," she replied with a skeptical tone.

"Well, that makes two of us then." He answered her but he kept it quiet so she would not hear. It was somehow intended more for himself than for her.

Carla and Elizabeth finished breakfast about half an hour later. They both piled their plates full and decided to eat in the living room with Peter. Elizabeth carried her plate and one she had made for Peter. She sat down beside Peter and handed him his plate of food. He looked down at it; it looked glorious. Scrambled eggs topped with cheese and tomatoes, golden-colored hash browns next to a stack of fluffy pancakes topped with strawberries and a strawberry glaze. Despite his worry for Neal and his father, he couldn't wait to take his first bite. They always ate incredible breakfasts when they visited his parents; it was one of the perks.

They sat in silence as they all enjoyed the morning feast when suddenly it was interrupted by Peter's cell phone ringing on the coffee table. Peter was mid-bite when it began singing its tune so Elizabeth picked it up. "Hello."

She paused and her eyebrows rose then she pulled the phone from her ear and handed it to Peter. She smiled. "It's your father."

Peter frowned and took the phone. "Dad, where are you? Is Neal with you?"

Elizabeth could tell Peter was not giving his father much of a chance at explaining anything as Peter quickly continued as soon as he discovered Neal was with him. "Dad, you can't just take Neal off like that. He is not supposed to leave this house without me. He and I could get into serious trouble.… He did what?" Suddenly Peter's brow furrowed. The look of frustration in his eyes turned to anger. Peter stood to his feet but now any pain he felt was almost non-existent as he moved towards the hall. "Tell me everything that happened," he demanded as he walked down the hall and disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Elizabeth sighed and picked up Peter's plate. "Well, that doesn't sound good."

"What do you think happened?" Carla asked as she watched Elizabeth take the plate back into the kitchen.

"Neal did something stupid and got into some kind of trouble and now Peter's mad about it. I just hope he didn't get John involved too badly."

After ten minutes Peter appeared in the living room again. He looked extremely angry. Elizabeth frowned. "What did Neal do this time?"

"He called Mozzie to come up, and he and Mozzie took off early this morning to confront Greg. I told Neal to let it go. Anyhow the guy that Greg owed money to wound up showing up and holding Neal, Mozzie, and Greg at gunpoint. He wanted Neal to steal something. Thankfully Dad heard Neal leave this morning so he followed him and he wound up having to bail Neal out of this mess. But then Dad did it without calling the police. He should have called the police."

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she listened to Peter relate the story. "Oh my goodness. Are they okay?"

"Yeah, they're fine and on their way home now." Peter crossed his arms over his chest.

"Thank goodness. What are you going to do?" Elizabeth asked as she leaned forward on the sofa, placing her hand on her chin.

"I'm not letting him off the hook for this, that's for sure."

Suddenly they were interrupted by the front door opening. Peter walked towards the door as he watched his father enter first.

John dropped his jacket onto the bench in the entryway. Mozzie walked in behind him. He looked at Peter and paused, then took a couple of steps back. "The Suit doesn't look too happy. I think I might head home, Neal."

"Don't even think about it, Mozzie. Take a seat in the living room." Peter sounded firm and his finger pointed towards the living room forcefully.

Mozzie frowned and moved towards the chair beside the chair Carla was sitting it.

Neal walked in finally and had a look of shame on his face.

Peter looked at Neal and frowned. "What were you thinking? Do you never listen to me? I told you to drop this."

Neal nodded his head. "I was angry that Greg was not having to deal with the consequences of his own actions. You were injured and almost killed because of his stupidity."

"Oh, kind of like the way your stupidity almost got Mozzie and Dad in serious trouble, huh? Is that what you mean?" Peter took a step closer to Neal.

Neal looked away from Peter. His eyes met with Elizabeth; he almost looked like he was searching her for help. She stood to her feet. "Don't look at me, Neal. I agree with Peter on this one. He did tell you to leave it be. You walked into this yourself. You can find your own way out."

"Look at me, Neal," Peter demanded.

Neal pressed his lips and turned back to face Peter.

"Do you have any idea how badly this could have gone? And the fact that you are not supposed to leave this house unless I am with you; what if it gets back that this happened? You could be sent back to prison. Does that thought ever even occur to you when you make stupid choices like this?"

"Not at the exact time, no. I was more concerned that Greg was responsible for what happened to you."

"And what, you just thought you'd go see him and set him straight?"

"I don't know what I thought. I—"

"You made a dumb-ass decision that a child would make. Are you ever going to grow up?"

"Okay, Peter. I think the kid had good intentions here he just carried them out wrong." John stepped between Peter and Neal. He could tell the frustration and tension between them was more than just from the events of the day; they had been building for a long time. He suddenly felt the need to be the mediator.

Peter's head quickly snapped to stare squarely at his father. "Oh, don't even get me started on you, Dad. You never should have gone into that house. You should have called the police right away and let them handle it. You do not have the training nor the qualifications to do what you did."

John frowned and took a step backwards. "Well, we made it out okay, didn't we. We are all here and no one was injured. I think I had plenty of training to handle the situation. It's called the training of life. I saw a family member that needed help and I did not hesitate to offer that help."

Peter's face suddenly softened. His mind was continuously repeating the words he just heard from his father's mouth. "A family member." Did John really see Neal as his family? Did he see him as his son? He felt stunned. But he looked over at Neal and realized he was not the only one in shock at hearing those words from John.

Neal was staring at John from behind him. He felt surprised, but even more than that he felt privileged to be called a member of the family. He was searching his own feelings at that very moment. Did he himself feel like he was part of this family? It had taken him a while before he felt like he truly was Peter's brother. But now this. Could he embrace this family as his own. He wanted to. Beyond a doubt he wanted to.

John quickly realized the room had gone quiet. The sound of the wind outside could be heard; a tree branch was gently scratching on the living room window. Hardly noticeable before, but now it was almost as loud as fingernails dragging across a chalkboard. He then himself began to realize what it was that caused this uncomfortable silence. He had spoken the words himself. He spoke them in a rage of emotion, not even realizing what he was about to say. They say when you speak in the heat of the moment like that, it often depicts your innermost feelings. Now he knew how he really did feel about Neal. He felt like he was his own son.

Peter noticed his father become shifty. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Peter took a deep breath and brought his hand up to his head and rubbed his forehead. He looked back at his father and smiled. "I'm sorry, Dad. I appreciate what you did for Neal. But next time, please just call the police." He then looked back at Neal. "Neal, you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'll knock your head off. And I can, because now I'm not just your handler, I'm your big brother. Is that clear?"

Neal smiled and nodded his head. "Yes, sir."

Peter turned to Mozzie who was patiently sitting in the living room. He looked like he was entertained. "Mozzie, next time Neal calls you for anything, ignore him or deal with me!"

Mozzie smiled and tipped his head once.

Elizabeth smiled and walked over to Neal. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and squeezed as she looked at Peter and John. "We're a family. Let's start acting like one."