Here's another chapter to assuage my inability to post for so long... I hope you enjoy.
The weeks that followed prom were crazy. Everyone had appointments to see lawyers of one sort or another, and there was always something to do. John bought himself a second hand 1968 mustang which he spent most of his free time underneath of. Claire didn't understand why he didn't just by a new one or take it to a mechanic. He shook his head and told her he wasn't going to even try explaining it. The rest of his time was split between school, his job at a garage, and with Claire. He realized quickly that the car had to take last place because his princess wanted his attention as often as she could get it; both between and the sheets and outside the bedroom on a host of other activities. One day he realized he was really living not just surviving, and it made life interesting but far more worthwhile than he'd believed possible, but life was not quite done throwing curve balls to John Bender.
After prom school was surreal for both John and Claire; people who normally wouldn't have spoken to either of them came up and shook their hands like they were some kind of celebrities. Claire thought she was used to popularity, but she hadn't ever understood what it really meant. The popular clique was as vindictive as ever trying to get a new smear campaign against Claire going, but very few people were interested and the ones instigating it were ratted out quickly.
John found the job as a mechanic at a place he'd been hanging around for years, but had never had the courage to go in when he looked like an abused rat. He went to the shop to ask where he could get a piece for his car, which turned into him working on the car at the shop after hours, it was sure more comfortable than Sarah's gravelly driveway, and he always made sure he could drive the car the next morning. As he lay beneath his car finishing up his new exhaust system he heard a pair of heels click. He rolled out from under the car and said, "Uh, we're closed." He stood up when he didn't hear the heels click away, and worked on getting the grease off his hands. What he saw was a woman he'd never met, but who looked richer than any of Claire's friends or their parents did. She was probably around 60, her hair was black with grey shot through it. He looked down and realized he'd have to go wash his hands. The woman had walked into the waiting room of the shop and sat down. John shook his head, "I'll be right with you."
He wanted to ask if the bitch was deaf, but his boss would kick his ass for being a jerk to anyone who looked as rich as she did. It was as though wealth literally came out of her pours. He went and washed his hands so they looked as good as Claire liked. He still had hopes of seeing her tonight. He walked into the office, and stepped behind the counter deftly while the lady was paging through a magazine. "Ma'am, we're closed, is there something I can do for you?" She looked up and studied him, it was damn disconcerting. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a piercing gaze?" John asked nonchalantly. "And would you mind telling me what you want, or does some cat have your tongue?"
She started to crack a smile then laughed. "I always figured you'd be a spitfire. Christina always had a razor tongue and wit when she chose to use them." She stood up and while John was probably six inches taller than her she was still an imposing figure. "I'm sorry ma'am, I am not sure who you are, and I still don't know what you want, but I'd like to finish putting the exhaust on my car and take my girlfriend out to dinner, so for the last time, what can I do for you?"
She extended a strong, thin hand with long manicured nails, "I'm Teresa Oliver, and if I am not terribly mistaken I am your grandmother. If you are interested, I'd like to take you to dinner. You may bring your girlfriend if you wish, but well, I am unused to a situation like this. Damn," she brought out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes, "I only just heard about the terrible situation surrounding Christina's death, and well we, my late husband and I didn't treat her very well, but I would like the opportunity to know you."
John was stunned; perhaps gobsmacked would be a better way of saying it. He stood there blinking at this very rich looking old woman, "my grandmother?" was the only thing John could say, and even that came out incredulously. John looked back at his car in the bay of the shop and shrugged his shoulders, "why not. Unless you want to wait the half hour it will take to finish installing my new exhaust, you are driving. And if we're going anyplace I suspect is typical for you, I have to go home and shower."
She watched this young man, with grey shot through his hair, gather his bearings and settle into the idea of her as his grandmother. With a husband who was an attorney, then politician she'd spent her life watching people and she could read them pretty well. She saw a spiderweb of scars across his hand, and wariness in his eyes that spoke of an incredibly difficult life. His gaze was equally piercing as she knew hers could be, but she suspected it had been used towards different circumstances. She thought about it for a moment, "Since I wasn't sure you'd even speak to me, I haven't made reservations or anything, but I am old and can be rather cantankerous when I am hungry so could we leave sooner rather than later?"
John barked out a laugh, "I'll bet you can be cantankerous on a whim, and I'll bet even more that it doesn't take hunger to get you there."
Teresa Oliver smiled, it had been a long time since she'd met anyone quite like this young man. "Your name is John right?" He nodded his head and said nothing, but continued to put away the tools he'd been using, when he finished that he stripped off the jumpsuit he had on over his jeans and wife beater. Teresa saw his arms scarred he'd been whipped and burned; she quickly dropped her eyes. It took her a less than a moment to understand that he'd apparently been beaten severely and probably regularly. She took the blame firmly on her own shoulders; if she hadn't sent her daughter away her grandson would have lived a different life. John pulled a flannel on over the undershirt and buttoned it before asking, "So what should I call you? You just don't strike me as grandma, so I figured that was out, but I'm pretty sure you don't want me calling you Mrs. Oliver or some shit like that."
She arched an eyebrow at his succinct, if vulgar, summation of the situation. "You could call me Teresa, it is my name."
John shrugged, "wasn't sure if you were one of those rich folks who thought first names were too familiar." His statement was said with all the derision he felt for people who behaved that way, and she got the message. "So, I still need to shower, change, and I would like to pick up Claire as well; how do you want to do this?" He looked this woman over again, and if he thought about it much he could see his mom in her, but it was an odd fit.
She spread her hands out, "I believe I am the interloper in your territory. Tell me what you wish to do and we'll do it." John gave her a fairly evil smirk, "I wouldn't give a stranger a blank check if I were you;" he winked at her and walked back into the garage, "give me just a second." He wrote his boss a note about picking up the car tomorrow; he'd pay for the bay space if it was a problem. He started to write, something had come up, but decided his boss didn't give a fuck. John checked the space to make sure everything was put away, turned the light out, and joined Teresa in the office. "Ready?"
She stood up slowly, but gracefully, "whenever you are." John held the door for her and she walked right under his arm and towards a sleek black Jaguar. "Nice ride Teresa." John ran his hand along the side of the car, "she's a beauty." She smiled, "thank you, I like her. Everyone tells me I should get a driver, but why on earth would I want someone else to drive me around in my own car. I like to drive, and my beauty here, she drives so smoothly, and fast." She gave a smirk to John that was strangely like looking in the mirror, "what's the speed limit around here anyway?"
John outright laughed; "I think 25 through the residential neighborhood, and maybe 35 on the main streets. Turn right here." He directed her home, well to Sarah's place, but it really had become more of a home to John than the place he lived most of his life with his parents, and she went much faster than the speed limit. "Before we go in, let me give you a little explanation. I live here with a woman named Sarah Dearing, she's an English teacher at the high school. How I got here is a long story, but she is really important to me, catch my drift?" Teresa nodded, understanding that if she wanted any part of her grandson's life she needed to be nice to this woman, she prayed the woman was worth being nice to. She got out of the car and followed John to the front door.
John had been taken shopping by Claire and Sarah. While his style hadn't really changed his clothes were no longer ripped or dirty or stained. He felt better about himself and the clothes he wore, he no longer felt the need to slouch in his dirty, ripped old clothes and while he still layered his clothes it wasn't for the same reasons. "Hey Sarah; you home?" John asked as he took off his denim jacket and asked if Teresa wanted to hang her jacket as well. She shook her head, and heard from the other side of the small house, "I'm in the kitchen. Why do I fall for the same student nonsense each year and get talked into cooking for the year end celebration?"
John walked into the kitchen followed by Teresa. He smiled as she pulled brownies out of the oven. "Because you are a sucker. I'd like you to meet someone." Sarah stood up and wiped off her hands on the apron she was wearing, she tucked a stray hair behind her ear and looked at John expectantly. "Teresa this is Sarah Dearing; Sarah, this is my grandmother Teresa… shit I forgot your last name." He turned to Teresa.
"It's Oliver, the same name as your uncle George." John tilted his head a little. "Haven't seen him since I was a kid, so forgive me for not remembering. Mind if I leave you two ladies together so I can jump in the shower?" Teresa noticed he was asking Sarah not her if she minded being left without John. Sarah nodded, "go right ahead, before you start getting grease on everything." She cracked a grin because she knew that John tended to be extra careful not to get the house filthy with grease from work. Without another word John turned on his heel and walked down the hall to his room.
Sarah chuckled, "would you like to have a seat and can I get you something to drink? Water or Coffee is pretty much the choice right now." Teresa noticed a fresh pot of coffee, "I'll take some coffee, thank you." She sat down at the table and looked around her. The house was small, but comfortable. It was obvious that the woman living here wasn't wealthy, but she had many quality items and everything was clean. Sarah put down a small sugar bowl and a miniature pitcher for cream, then set a cup of coffee in front of the older woman and took a seat. "I wasn't sure how you took your coffee."
Neither woman was quite sure what to say, Teresa started, "Thank you for taking John in. As I understand it my daughter…. How do I say this…"
Sarah spoke up, "I don't mean to be out of line here, but your daughter was a crappy mother and took the cowards approach to trying to help John. He was in the hospital when she…did what she did. He's really a good kid, and he's been given the short end of the stick for too long now." Teresa heard the unspoken words in Sarah's commentary. This woman would not take kindly were she to upset the boy. Interesting, Teresa thought, they are fiercely loyal to one another. The kind of loyalty she was not used to amongst her friends or family. She found herself really enjoying Sarah Dearing's straight forwardness; it seemed to be a characteristic she shared with John, though Sarah was somewhat less colorful in her language.
She took a sip of coffee and started, "a few months back my husband passed away. He was…a stickler for a particular kind of behavior…and anyone who strayed from that antiquated set of morals was cut away without question. It's taken me this long to simply find John. I have heard all manner of rumors regarding my daughter, her husband and John. I don't know what to believe, but I wish I could have been a better mother to Christina. I am sorry to say I don't think I was ever very good at being motherly. Your brownies for instance, I have no idea how to cook."
Sarah smiled, and realized the woman was doing her best and didn't really know how to handle any of this. "Can I take it that you were married to a man whose husband's word was law?"
Teresa nodded, "something like that. He wasn't abusive or mean, but yes, he was rather firm."
Sarah continued, "Is that why you had no contact with your daughter, as I understand it?"
Again Teresa nodded, "Yes George, my husband, cut her out entirely and any desire I had to see my daughter was quashed pretty quickly. I met John once, when he was about 2; Though, I was forced to leave shortly after they arrived."
John got out of the shower, walked to his room and called Claire. On the second ring she picked up, "Hello." Just hearing her voice released some of the tension in John's shoulders. "Hey gorgeous, um an unexpected guest appeared at the shop and so instead of having dinner here we're going out."
Claire harrumphed at John, "are you going to tell me who showed up or do I have to guess? Where are we going? How should I dress?" John chuckled, "calm yourself princess. I have no idea where we are going, but as for who showed up, apparently I have a grandmother and from the way she behaves I'd say she's loaded, but she just showed up and is all, fuck I don't know, but Christ Cherry, I fucking need you here. I'm afraid I'm gonna offend the old bird." Claire was incredibly surprised at the news, "Do I need to tell you to breathe and just be yourself. If she doesn't like you then she's not worth your time. And this is coming from me, who doesn't know how not to behave according to expectations." He smiled and felt more settled within himself. "Just get your pretty little ass over here, alright?"
Claire laughed, "no problem sweetheart. I'll be there as soon as I can, give me a half hour? At least I am already showered." John smiled, "no shit, if we had to wait for one of your showers it would have been at least a couple of hours before you'd get here." Her response was, "shut up, and I'll see you soon." They hung up after a quick I love you to each other.
John poked his head into the kitchen he was drying the ends of his hair with a towel. "I just talked to Claire, she'll be here in just a bit, and I'll be out in a few as well." He was in Jeans and Teresa saw his back, she turned back to the kitchen and closed her eyes, and mouthed something. He'd grown comfortable enough around Sarah, and Claire, that he forgot his back was covered in scars. His bedroom door shut before Sarah quietly spoke up, "please do not ask him about his back or any of the other scars you see. He has only just grown comfortable with himself, and I don't want that ruined."
Teresa nodded, "may I ask you?"
Sarah shrugged, "It's not my story to tell really. He was very seriously physically abused by the man who called himself John's father. His mother was rarely able to shield him; at least that's what I tell myself. He also spent most of his life in poverty. If you show him pity he will be derisive, so I suggest you get ready for the ride that is John Bender. Claire, his girlfriend, reins him in a bit; however he simply rolls with the punches – I suggest you do the same. He's an amazing young man." Teresa was incredibly grateful to this woman. In the past, she might have believed she knew what was best. Since her husband had passed she found she wanted different things than he had, but apparently he controlled her enough to let go of all of the principles her parent's had taught her about being caring towards people.
John entered his room again, thinking 'fuck, I didn't remember to put a shirt on'. He really needed to be more fucking careful. His nerves were all kinds of on edge, so he packed a bowl and took a couple of hits. He put everything away and looked around his room. It did look like he lived there, but he was a damn sight neater than he had been at his folks house. That was how he thought about it. Did he really want to get to know this woman who had turned his mom out? Fuck it, why not. It was a calculated risk to open the door to this woman, but he was going to try it anyway. He pulled one of the black t-shirts Claire bought him, a clean pair of blue jeans, a long sleeved black button down that he left open, and his docs. He took another deep breath and decided he'd left her with Sarah long enough for her to get a read on the old broad.
Walking into the kitchen he smiled at Sarah and Teresa, poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. "So, where would you like to go for dinner?" He asked Teresa, and then quickly turned to Sarah, "You haven't started dinner or anything, have you?" She shook her head, "nope."
He turned back to Teresa, "why haven't I heard anything from you before now?" He took a sip of coffee.
Teresa blushed a little and looked down at her hands, for a moment looking ashamed of herself. "Because I let my husband run my life, and by doing so l lost my children. I met you briefly when you were around 2, but George started a fight with Christina and we left."
John took another drink of coffee and wondered if she wanted sympathy of something; he didn't feel any sympathy she made her choices, so he said nothing. The silence which had fallen was not a comfortable one; John finally broke it, and said "so it was your husband who was the jackass?"
Sarah choked back a laugh and thought to herself, that's a perfect John response. Teresa looked mildly mortified; however, in the grand scheme of things the boy was right so she nodded. "I don't expect you take kindly to excuses so I won't offer any, suffice to say I have been rethinking many things since George passed away. It's taken me almost all of that time to find you. I didn't know your mother had given you her husband's last name."
John reached back and opened the kitchen window wider, pulled himself up to sit on the counter, and lit a cigarette. "According to the letter she left me, he adopted me; still don't know why cause the motherfucker never liked me."
Teresa's eyes squinted for a moment as though she was trying to remember something. "I'm not sure it was ever legally processed John. I must admit I hired a private detective to find you and Christina."
John's eyebrows shot up, "then I guess I'm even more surprised to see you. Anything a private dick could find is likely to be less than glowing about my old family."
Tears came to the old woman's eyes, "no, there was nothing glowing, but there did appear to be lots of pain. I am sorry I was never there for your mother." John shrugged, "s'alright, if you were never there for her, she learned the lesson you taught her well." He opened the screen and pitched the cigarette out the window. He closed the screen and the window part way then jumped down and walked out of the room.
Teresa looked at Sarah and quietly said, "Did I say something wrong?" Sarah shook her head, "No, that's just John, and I think Claire is here so he went to greet her at the door." Teresa let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Would you like to come to dinner? I would be pleased for the additional company."
Sarah understood; she needed a John Bender translation service. Sarah knew Claire was probably better for the job but this woman seemed to be growing older by the minute. She'd need to buck up if she wanted John to give her any place in his life.
John opened the door to find a very stylish looking Claire Standish about to ring the doorbell. "How do you do that?" He smirked, "I heard your car pull in sweets. No fucked up mental powers required. However, I think Teresa, my mother's mother, is going to take us all out to dinner, and I'm pretty sure she'll love you."
As soon as the door was closed she wrapped her arms around John's neck and kissed him deeply and tenderly. As the kiss ended she rubbed his nose with hers', "I feel like it's been forever since I got to last kiss you." He kissed her again. "That's to tide you over through dinner." John sat on the arm of the couch with Claire between his legs, his hands on her hips talking about their afternoons. "Ok, so I am starving, when is this dinner you keep mentioning." He laughed and kissed her forehead, stood up and took her hand leading her to the kitchen.
Teresa was thumbing through a magazine when the two of them entered; John asked, "Where's Sarah?"
"I believe she went to change so she could go to dinner. I told her what she had on was fine, but she insisted." Claire chuckled, "wouldn't you at least want to brush your hair and make sure you were presentable?" Teresa nodded, "I concede, you are correct, I too would insist upon making myself look presentable even if I already was." Claire stuck out her hand, "Hi, I'm Claire Standish girlfriend to this rude guy," She smiled and elbowed John. Teresa smiled; this stylish young girl did indeed bring something out in her grandson. Teresa stood, and took her hand; "it's a pleasure to meet you. Standish, do you have relatives in Chicago, because I seem to remember George talking about a… what was the name…Robert perhaps. Anyway, It's nice to meet you." She shook Claire's hand, both gave warm full handshakes. Teresa noted a glint on the girl's right ring finger and thought it looked vaguely familiar. "May I have a closer look at your ring? Sure, maybe you can tell me more about it." Claire grabbed John's hand and looked up at him with a smile. "John gave it to me during a particularly rough patch of life I was having. He was my savior in many ways; this was a gift from him." Claire looked a little dreamy eyed and kissed her boyfriend and put her head on his arm, which he moved to pull her into him. "Yeah, well Cherry, I'm pretty sure you've saved me too." He kissed her on top of the head.
She studied the ring for a moment then sat down just as Sarah was coming in the room. John spoke up, "How about you tell us either on the way to food or at dinner cause I'm starved. Claire where should we go? You know real restaurants better than I do. Claire gave a few options and the women decided on one, John refused to cast a vote either way. They piled into Teresa's Jag and went to a very upscale family restaurant. John was laughing about getting to see little kids in suits like little grownups. As they were seated John noticed this place was much like the restaurant Rob had taken them to the day they got out of the hospital. After looking at the menus for a few minutes, John swept a look first at Sarah and then Claire hoping his eyes expressed his lack of understanding what most of these dishes, or entrees were. Claire smiled and winked at him, "Teresa, I don't know what your palate is, but this place has some of the best manicotti around, it's got meat and ricotta cheese stuffed in and it's covered in marinara. A waiter came to the table and bowed he said, "Complimentary salad and breadsticks" he set them on the table and left them to peruse the menu for a few more minutes. John reached out and snagged a breadstick.
Teresa said, "thank you for the recommendation. Is the fish here any good?" Claire again replied," I've only had the scampi which it melts in your mouth, my father says the scallops are good." John got the manicotti; everyone else got something with fish in it. John was really hungry so he stood up and asked if anyone wanted salad and put some on all the plates. He sat back down and when he started eating very quickly with his arm around his plate Claire put her hand on his knee; it was the sign he'd asked for if he did something totally out of keeping with the situation. John sat up, took a deep breath, and made a conscious effort to not embarrass Claire and Sarah, but damn this was a lot of fucking work, and he would kill for a smoke. John stood up, "I'm going outside for a smoke." He stood up and walked away.
Once again Teresa was afraid she'd said or done something to hurt or offend him. Claire smiled kindly at her, "Mrs. Oliver," before she could continue the older woman held up her hand, "you are obviously very important to my grandson, and while I am not even sure he is going to let me be a part of his life… I would like you to call me Teres, or Teresa." Claire listened patiently and smiled again, "Ok Teres, you need to relax. John isn't easy to get to know, and he has no reason to trust you. Please be patient and if you really want to be a part of his life than you need to accept him for the man he is, no matter what. He noticed you noticing him eating and felt awkward. Until recently he'd never been to a restaurant like this, it's a little upscale for him to be comfortable."
The old woman started biting her bottom lip. "I know he has no reason to trust me, hell he has every reason to hate me if the things I have read are even half true. That said, I do want to get to know him, he is all I have left of Christina and well, I would like to be there for him in whatever capacity I can." John had, unbeknownst to her arrived back at the table and heard Teresa's comments. He sat back down in his chair grabbed another breadstick and said, "I don't hate you. I don't even know you. My mother told me you were assholes and I shouldn't bother wasting my time. I'm guessing her glasses were kind of dim considering she was pitched for getting knocked up."
Teresa sighed, "Yes, I get that I blew it with my daughter. I really don't want to do the same with you, and I don't have much time left. Would you like a little story about that ring of yours?" She directed the question to Claire, not knowing what to say to John or Sarah at the moment.
"I'd love it. I told John there was probably paperwork about it someplace." Teresa smiled, "smart girl, there is paperwork in a safety deposit box that belonged to Christina; it's yours now." She said to John.
"The ring came from my mother; it was her engagement ring. When she gave it to Christina as a sweet sixteen present, I was appalled. I thought she was too young and too wild. When George sent her to live with George, jr. and his wife I thought she'd sell it. She said she'd never speak to us again and a host of other things including she'd sell anything she was ever given by us. The ring looks good on your finger Claire. Back to the ring, I believe it was made by a jeweler in Ireland, there is something special about the emerald as well as the diamonds, but I don't remember the details now."
Teresa took a deep breath and blew it out. She looked at John and asked if his mother was ever happy. John had resumed eating during her story about the ring, which interested Claire and Sarah far more than John. When she asked her question he put his fork down and wiped his face with the napkin. He shrugged, "I don't know. She told me that once upon a time Joe Bender made her happy, but I never saw it. By the time I was nine or ten she was stoned too often for it to matter." Teresa was looking sad, but something John said sparked another question, "you call your father by his first name?"
John had taken another bite of food and looked a little irritated. He finished chewing and said, "Gratefully, according to ma that sonofabitch was not my father. She said it was a guy named last name Grey who was the sperm donor. Can I finish eating now?"
"Do you want to meet him?" Teresa asked.
John put his fork down again, having nearly gotten a bite to his mouth. "who?"
"John Grey."
Again John shrugged, "I don't know, she said he went by Alex."
Teresa nodded, "He did as a child and young man, but as soon as he left his parents house for college he started using his first name. Now that I think about it, I can't believe I didn't see it earlier, you look a good deal like him."
John gave up the idea of finishing his meal and figured he'd take it home. He leaned back in his chair, "He some kind of family friend? Ma said you didn't believe her about who my dad was. Probably why she thought you were asshats; she said she kind of tramped around, but there was no question in her mind about who knocked her up."
The waiter returned, and each of them asked for to go boxes – their plates were taken and John ordered dessert, he winked at Claire letting her know he got it to share. Teresa said, "well sort of, he's our family lawyer now, it was his father, but John took over smoothly. There are some things, things which belong to you now. Would you be interested and willing to come up to Chicago at some point?"
"Lemme think about it, and well, It's gotta be after graduation."
Teresa asked, "when is that?"
Claire grinned, "Next Saturday." John groused, "You know I'm only going because I have some kind of fucking weakness for you two, and Christ why do we have to be there so early?"
Sarah smiled, "because they want you to practice prom king." John sputtered, "fuck you, I didn't even run!"
Teresa started laugh, deep belly laughs, though her voice sounded like she hadn't laughed like that in a very long time. "How did you become Prom King if you didn't run?"
Claire spoke up with a giant grin on her face. "First you must know that John only went to Prom for me. Prior to… getting together with me he wouldn't have been caught dead at a student function. The weeks prior were… difficult to say the least and John and I grew very close so he lowered himself to take me to prom. Anyway, I used to be on the prom committee and it was demanded that there be a write in option by student council. John won because everyone wrote in his name." Claire smiled at John. "He's everyone's favorite badass." John gave her a very thorough kiss as she was about to open her mouth again. When they separated Claire looked a little bedazzled, and John looked smug. Sarah and Teresa both had their eyebrows raised. "What? It's my favorite way to get her to shut up." The chocolate cake he ordered for dessert was brought to the table by a different waiter, but it looked spectacular, and tasted very good but it was really rich, what he thought was funniest was the three ladies he was with ate more of it than he did.
The waiter returned with a bag full of their leftovers, and they stood to leave. Teresa was moving much more slowly than she had at the start of the day. John squinted at her, "How about you give me the keys and let me pull your sweet Jag around to pick you ladies up?" Teresa sighed as though she was very tired and handed the keys to John without a question, which surprised the hell out of him.
John slid into the sleek leather of the car, got the mirrors all arranged, and started the car. As he pulled around he noticed that Claire was holding on to Teresa. John thought to himself, something is not all it seems here.
I know it seems late to add new characters, but there is a reason... I promise.
Please, please, pretty please leave me a review.