Chapter 14 – Breakfast in America
Saturday morning broke, like the first morning to ever occur. April was beginning to transform into May, and that meant that the mornings were getting warmer by the day. Sunlight cascaded all around the cul-de-sac in shimmering rays of glow. It bounced off the myriad of trees dotted around, their soft green hue growing darker as the spring heat began to turn up. Birds chirped here and there, grabbing mouthfuls of seed from various different birdfeeders that cul-de-sac residents put out. Rolf was tending to business in his backyard, pulling weeds from the garden and cursing under his breath. Nazz was out jogging in her sports bra and sweatpants, listening to her Walkman as she did so. The whole neighborhood seemed as happy as it could be.
Sunlight even dared to pierce the glass doors that marked the entrance to Eddy's bedroom. Though the clock read 9:30, he was still slumbering as if it was the middle of the night. Eventually, though, the light became too much for him to handle. As a beam dashed towards his eyes and knocked for entrance, he popped his eye open to allow the entrance, even as unwelcome as it was. He grumbled a little as he stretched out in his circular bed, tugging back the faux-fur duvet and revealing his ruddy boxer shorts. He sat up on the edge of the bed now, giving his arms a final stretch as a large yawn bellowed out of his wide mouth. His mouth smacked up and down slightly as he finished, the light from the doors warming the back of his head, feeling right at home now. He got up now and slid into some fuzzy pink slippers that laid beside his night-stand; he also grabbed his white bathrobe and loosely tied the knot around his waist. The sound of bacon sizzling and coffee mugs clanking let him know that breakfast was right around the corner; and breakfast was something that the business of Eddy was always open for.
The door to his bedroom creaked open as Eddy walked out into the hallway, peering down to make sure that he hadn't woken up from a breakfast-induced dream. Indeed he hadn't; he could now vividly hear the sizzling grease and his parents mumbling about something or other. He stepped fully out of his room and closed the door behind him, leaving his bed carefully unmade.
The scene in the kitchen was fairly typical for a Saturday morning affair – his father, old Patrick McGee, was the slickest used car salesman this side of the Mississippi; it was often joked that he would be one hell of a politician if only the pay was better. His first name was Edward, just like Eddy, but he preferred going by his middle name, Patrick. Old McGee was perched at his normal spot at the family's breakfast nook in the kitchen, reading the newspaper with his skinny little reading glasses. He was adorned in a red-patterned plaid dressing robe, which sat atop a pair of blue pajamas. Old McGee was very much your average dad material; one foot in his grave, one in his bank account. He very much resembled Eddy; he was a stout man with springy gray hairs that he combed over to cover his balding head. His face as just as blocky and angled as Eddy's though his advanced age did cause a fair share of wrinkles and crows' feet, especially around his eyes. He popped the newspaper to the sports section and coughed just as his only good son came around the corner of the hallway and appeared in the kitchen, still half-asleep with the bathrobe he had on trailing on the ground. Old McGee looked up over his carefully balanced glasses and looked at his zombie-like son.
"Mornin' Eddy…. I was wondering when you were finally gonna wake up!" he said as he went back to his sports section. Eddy, still groggy, glanced briefly at the newspaper as he shuffled over to the breakfast nook, his pink slippers gliding across the slick tilework. He noticed one of his father's cheesy ads on the cover of the paper; a picture of him with his stuffed gorilla, holding up a sign that said "Spring forward with a used car from McGee's! With McGee, a loan is guaranteed!" .
"Yeah yeah yeah, I know…" Eddy mumbled as he took a seat in the booth across from his father. "Well I'm up now…"
"Well…" his old man said, flipping the page over and smiling at his boy, "I figured that if the sunlight didn't get ya, the smell comin' from the bacon just might…". He chuckled with his lips closed and flipped the page again, reading the last of the sports news.
"Hopefully tomorrow morning I'll be hitting the golf course, if this weather holds up… would you like to join your old man for a round tomorrow, Eddy?" he asked, flipping the paper over and folding it back in half, setting it down at the end of the nook table.
"Sure dad, I could use some practice on the ole backswing…" Eddy chuckled, pretending to swing a club from his seat. His grogginess had subsided for the most part, and he had his old man's full attention. Old Man McGee leaned over the table and sipped from his coffee mug, smacking his lips until they formed a tight grin.
"That's my boy…" he said, leaning back once again with mug in hand. Eddy could hear the slow sizzle of bacon and he could see the carton of eggs on the counter, looking like they were going to be used. But he didn't see his mother anywhere; Holly McGee was almost always on-call when it came to a weekend breakfast.
"Yo pops, where's mom at?" he said, placing his arm on the back of the booth and looking around the kitchen.
"Went to the bathroom, probably…" the old man said, sipping once more on his coffee and drumming his fingers on the small, rectangular table. "She'll be back in just a second."
"Coolio…" Eddy said as he got up and strolled over to the fridge. He popped it open long enough to grab the carton of OJ and poured himself a tall glass of the orange goop. He took a good ole swig and took his seat back at the booth. His father looked out the little square window that sat above the breakfast nook, looking over his nicely manicured lawn. Eddy looked at the little square TV that sat on the kitchen counter next to the fridge, the tiny little rabbit ears poking up from its top. The morning talk shows were flashing in fairly rough resolution, mostly there for his mother's entertainment while slaving over the hot stove.
Speaking of his mother, Holly McGee came rolling into the kitchen, sporting her fluffy pink bath robe as the sound of a flushing toilet echoed in the hallway. Her flouncy blonde hair bounced on her shoulders as she came in, seeing her two men perched at the old breakfast nook.
"Ooh good morning sweetie!" she said, tiptoeing over and kissing her grimacing son on the forehead with a loving smile. Eddy's face flattened and his old man chuckled, crossing his legs beneath the table and removing his skinny little reading glasses.
"Morning mom, but do you have to do the kissing thing…?" he said, wiping his forehead with his sleeve." Jeeze I'm nearly seventeen for goodness sake!"
"But not too old for some of mommy's love!" she rang out, grabbing a pan down from the hook and cracking a few eggs. His father smirked and chuckled along with his son.
The two of them were thick as thieves but Eddy still kept a slight distance from his old man. Eddy admired his old man's hustle and how he had honed the art of the scam down to a science; but he also felt like his father expected too much out of him. He always experienced his father's fussing whenever his grades came out, and he always assumed that his old man expected his son to be a genius on the scale of Double D. But truth be told, Old Man McGee had come to terms with his son's shortcomings after all those years of bad grades and letters home. Eddy wasn't the brightest bulb in the pack, he knew that; but he realized that it wouldn't be the end of the world, so long as Eddy graduated. His oldest son, Eddy's infamous brother, was such a washed-up failure that Eddy seemed like a prodigy by comparison. Old McGee just wanted Eddy to be content and make a living for himself. He figured everything else would fall in place.
Pretty soon Holly McGee finished up with the breakfast and laid out the warm plates in front of both father and son. The plates, decorated with fried eggs, bacon, and buttered toast made the boys' mouths water with anticipation as they picked up their forks. She herself sat down next to the old man, her plate instead showcasing some fruit salad adorned with some low-fat vanilla yogurt. She crossed herself, elbowed her husband and son to do the same, and the family began to enjoy their breakfast as the little TV squeaked away with some infomercial about a grass seed that grows wherever you put it.
"You know son…" the old man said, chewing up a floppy piece of egg in the corner of his mouth and wagging his fork in the general direction of Eddy, "Only a few more weeks until summer vacation starts…"
"Ooh goodness don't I know it…!" Eddy howled out, putting away three strips of bacon and chugging some of the OJ from his cup.
"What I mean is,…would you like to come work for your old man over the summer? I could use somebody to clean the cars that come in, and who knows, I might even stick you on the sales floor if you prove your salt!"
Eddy looked up, slightly shocked. His old man had never proposed a summer job before; Eddy usually relied on his elaborate, albeit short-sighted, summer scams to get by with cash. He always figured his old man thought he was too immature to work at the car lot. He smiled a wide grin and slowly nodded his head up and down, taking a proud sip of OJ and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
"Now the pay ain't the best, but I'll match the work you put in, if you put in the right amount. You'll mostly be doing little things; cleaning the cars, waxing them, taping price signs in the windows, putting up balloons, all that crap. But like I said, if you do good at that, I might try you with sales. We've been dipping a little since the peak of tax refund season, but hopefully the summer buyers will be rolling in by July. Play your cards right, you might even have a nice little ride waiting for you by the end of August… how about that!"
"Pops, I like your way of thinking…" Eddy said, pointing a finger-gun at his old man and grinning.
"Isn't that just cute…" his mom said, smiling at her boys "Father and son working together and making money… I think you'll really like it honey. Earning a little money of your own will be good for you, and it won't make you lazy like last summer…"
"A little dough in my pocket sounds like a good summer to me…" Eddy said, eating his last strip of bacon and swigging down the last of the OJ. He got up out of the booth and started strolling out of the kitchen, back to his room to shower and get dressed for the day. His old man and mom simply smiled and shook their head, piling their plates up with the typical clang of china. Holly McGee got up and began transferring all of their various dirty dishes to the dishwasher that sat below the countertop.
"Do you really think that Eddy is ready for something like that, dear? I mean, working at the car lot is a pretty big deal…I just don't know…"
"Ahh, don't worry about it honey…" the old man responded, folding his right leg over his left and nursing his second cup of coffee, "Eddy needs to learn how to earn his money. He graduates in a year, and we can't have him laying around here for years after. I figure if I start him out at the lot, he'll learn a bit about the trade. Lord knows his grades ain't getting him anywhere. I just don't want him to end up like his brother…"
"Ain't that the truth…" she said, shaking her head and piling the last dirty plate into the washer.
Barbara Kanker finally opened her eyes at the bright amount of sunshine that was streaming in through her bedroom window, squinting them to fight back the power. She rolled over and looked at the clock next to her bed and found that it said 8:30 AM. She could hear the birds chippering away outside, and the sound of Donny up the road revving his motorcycle. Saturday was, on a typical week, one of the few mornings she didn't have to be up at five; but as soon as the weather started getting above freezing, Donny would pull that freakin' motorcycle out and start cranking on the –
Anyway, it didn't matter; she got up and slid into her bathrobe and her slippers, heading out the door and toward the kitchen. She descended the stairs that her father had built several years ago as an addition to the trailer. He had grown very frustrated that his daughter had to live in a trailer in the first place, but he could not tolerate the fact that there was only one bedroom. At first Barbara slept on a pull-out sofa while the girls all shared the one bedroom; after a few weeks of their living there, he hastily drove down, got a permit from the city, and built the small second floor addition onto the trailer. He had wanted to build on to it even more, but the city wasn't very keen on the idea of a permanent grounded residence in a trailer park. She climbed down each step carefully, and she noticed that the light from the kitchen glowed into the darkened living room. She could hear the small CD player/radio in the kitchen playing some ancient 1940s music, and she could hear her tone-deaf father causally singing along. As she rounded the stairs and had clear sight of the kitchen, she saw her father standing over the breakfast bar, frantically whisking a bowl of something and humming away.
"Dad, what on earth are you doing…!" she said, scratching her head and stretching her arms a little. "How long have you been up…?"
"Oh I got up around six or so; I wasn't really sure. I helped myself to some coffee, I hope you don't mind. I made a whole pot..." he said, transferring the bowl over to the counter next to the stove, where a pan was heating up.
"Not at all dad…" Barbara responded, shuffling into the kitchen and pouring herself a cup of coffee. She stirred in her normal cream and sugar, before glancing at her father's mug on the breakfast bar; black as night and looked about as strong as steel.
"Still drinking it black, huh dad…?" she asked, sipping from her own mug and cutting a lamp on in the living room. She perched up on the breakfast bar and leaned over it, smiling as she looked at her father.
"Been drinking it that way for sixty years…" he said, searching the various drawers in search of something.
"What are you looking for dad?"
"Ladle…I'm looking for like a um….a soup ladle…"
"Over there to your right, in that big jar on the counter. Should be one in there…" she pointed, taking a second sip.
He glanced over and squinted his eyes through his thick glasses, and finally he saw exactly what he was looking for.
"Ah yes, that's the one…" he said as he grabbed it and began ladling out circular disks of batter into the hot, buttery pan. He picked up his spatula and eyeballed the pan, waiting for the precise moment to flip.
"I figured you girls could use a nice homecooked breakfast for a change. And no one makes them better than me…" he chuckled, flipping the substance in the pan and looking to his daughter.
"Making your famous Dutch pancakes there, dad?" she asked, sipping her coffee and kicking her feet back and forth on the stool.
"Naturally…" he replied, watching the pancake rise up in the pan into a fluffy, buoyant dome. He chuckled once more as he transferred it to the growing stack of pancakes that he was keeping warm in the oven. "Welp, I suppose I could use a wee break. Those will keep warm in there, and I don't suppose the girls will be getting up anytime soon…"
"No…" she giggled to herself, "they'll sleep all day if you let them. But I'm sure the smell of that food will get them up in no time. Just fry a little sausage up, they'll come runnin' like goats at a petting zoo!"
"Ha ha, I bet they will!" he replied, washing his hands and drying them off with a paper towel.
"Well I'm heading outside for a smoke; you wanna come out with me dad? I got some plastic chairs out there you can sit on…"
"Sure, that sounds good dear…" he answered back, turning the stove off and walking out into the living room. She followed him out the front door, removing the green Marlboro pack from the robe pocket as the door shut behind them. Opa descended his fresh, newly constructed steps and looked at them with pride and nodded his head. "Yep, now that is fine craftsmanship!"
"Yeah, they're really nice, dad. A whole lot better than the old rotten ones that were here before. I was convinced that one morning I was gonna come out here and my foot would go straight through the planks…"she said, taking a seat on the top step. "The chairs are over there, pull one up if you want…"
Opa grabbed one of the white, plastic chairs that sat to one end of the trailer. He brushed the pine needles and seeds from the seat before he sat down and crossed his legs. He took a large sip from his mug of coffee before sitting it back down.
Barbara pulled a thin cigarette from the pack and placed it between her lips; she cupped her hand over the end and lit it quickly, smoke billowing out like incense at Mass. A grimace smeared across her father's face as he sipped his coffee.
"You really should give those up, Barbara…" he said, waving the smoke out of his face. "They can really hurt you in the end. A buddy of mine just got diagnosed with lung cancer because he smoked those things his whole life…"
Barbara twirled the cigarette around in her hand, eyeing the smoke that came up from the smoldering ashes at the end.
"I know dad, believe me; I've been trying to quit for years. But it's not that easy, and it's one of the few things that keeps me sane, in light of everything…" she dragged off the filter and was sure to blow the excess smoke away from her father. "Besides, you used to smoke too.."
"That was a long time ago, dear, back when we didn't know any better. I picked it up during the war and it took me years to give it up too. I remember how tough it was. But the doctor said it was one of the best decisions I could have made. Plus, they're just too damn expensive…"
"Ain't that the truth…" she said, flicking her ashes down to the pavement and chuckling.
The two sat in silence for a few more minutes; the occasional sip of coffee or puff of cigarette interrupted the silence.
"Do you have to work today…?" he asked, leaning forward.
"Oh, no…" she replied, flicking her cigarette with the ashes falling. "I work every-other Saturday, for the overtime pay. It really helps out, especially when Christmas time rolls in."
"You really shouldn't work so much…" he said, patting her on the hand. "These girls need you, and if you're not careful, they'll start to wander. And I know you don't want that…"
"They're good kids dad, I don't think there's much to worry about…" she replied, dragging a smoke and tossing the filter to the ground. "Anyway, let's get back inside and finish this this breakfast. I'm getting hungry, and I know the girls will be too, when they get up…"
"Sure thing dear, I'm getting rather hungry myself…" he said, getting up behind her and following her back into the house.
Opa went back into the kitchen and Barbara took her rightful place atop the orange plastic stool that sat at the breakfast bar which separated the kitchen from the living room.
"Sausage is in the fridge, dad. Bottom drawer, underneath the cheese".
"Ah yes, thank you dear. Nothing like a little sausage to wake those girls up…" he responded, leaning into the fridge and grabbing the package of breakfast links. He closed the fridge door behind him and got busy with throwing the plump, pink sausages into a hot pan with a little pat of butter: his secret ingredient in pretty much anything.
"Oh trust me dad; as soon as they smell that sausage, they'll come sprinting. Sometimes it's the only way I can get them out of bed…" Barbara chuckled as she came in to pour herself a second cup of joe.
Not long after the sizzling sausages filled with trailer with a buttery, savory aroma, the bedroom door opened wide and all three sisters pilled into the living room with eager eyes and empty stomachs; they sniffed and snarled like a pack of hounds, and Lee even rubbed her tummy in anticipation.
"I thought I smelled some sausage fryin' up in here!" she called out, sitting down next to her mother at the bar.
"Yeah, it sure does smell delicious!" May said, plopping down on the sofa and grabbing the remote. She flicked the TV on and scrolled through the channels.
Marie stretched her arms and sat down next to May, trying to get the remote from her with little success.
"It sure does!" Barbara said to May, giving her daughters "the look" so they wouldn't start bickering. "Your Opa got up early this morning to cook for you all, so you'd better be thankful when you get.
"Oh we sure are!" Lee replied, licking her lips. She got up and went into the kitchen, giving her grandfather a warm hug. "Thank you Opa, sure is nice to have a man around the house…"
"Oh, you're quite welcome sweetie… I know how you girls like to eat…" he said, warmly embracing her before letting go to stir the browned sausages. Lee popped the fridge open and grabbed the carton of OJ that sat on the bottom shelf. She screwed the top off, gave it the obligatory sniff, and poured it into a blue plastic cup. She carried it back with her to the bar, and sat right back down.
"You sure didn't hurt yourself asking anyone else if they wanted something to drink…" May whined at Lee from the sofa, crossing her arms.
"Well you didn't hurt yourself getting off your lazy a-"
"That's enough girls!" Barbara said as she whipped around on the stool, holding up her finger. "You had better cool it down right now!"
"That's right girls, you'd better listen to your mother. Or else you won't get any of this…" Opa said as he pulled the tray out of the oven containing all the poofy, delicious pancakes.
"ooh let me at em!" Lee said, licking her lips and clenching her fists. "Nothing like Opa's Dutch pancakes on a Saturday morning…"
"One at a time now girls, there's enough here for everybody!" he said, flipping the stove off and pouring the sausages into a little square dish. Barbara and Lee went into the kitchen as May and Marie took their places at the breakfast bar. Barbara got down some of the assorted plates from the cabinet over the sink, and Lee got the bottle of syrup out of the fridge, along with the carton of OJ. The girls formed an assembly line in the kitchen, each one grabbing a plate with fork and knife, watching as their grandfather piled their plates with pancakes and sausages until there was no more room. Barbara protested a little at the sheer volume of food, but Opa quickly disregarded her protests with the demand that everyone gets as much as they want. The three girls sat at the breakfast bar and ate, while Barbara sat at the little square table on the other side of the kitchen. She invited her dad to take a seat across from her at the table, but he chose to eat his food standing up at the counter.
"Why do you eat standing up like that Opa?" May asked, stuffing some pancake into her cheeks and chewing away.
"Oh, I don't know…" he said, not really realizing he was even doing that. "Just out of habit, I guess. Back in the war we usually ate our rations standing up, unless you wanted to get your uniform muddy. I guess I just carried that little habit with me."
"Opa, don't you ever feel bad for having been a Nazi…?" May then asked, finishing her pancake and swallowing it down with some OJ.
Barbara's face swelled in shock and her eyes widened. She turned around and looked straight at May:
"Now May, you know you shouldn't ask your Opa questions like that! We've been over this a thousand times! Don't bring up those-"
She was cut off by her father, who chuckled and waved his hand. He swallowed a piece of sugar-dusted pancake (no syrup) and turned to his daughter.
"Dear, dear, it's okay! No need to get so worked up! I'll handle it, like I always have." He smiled and leaned against the counter, facing the three girls at the bar and looking specifically at May.
"Now May, you must understand something: I wasn't a Nazi; I was a conscript in the German military. A Nazi was someone that was a member of the party; I wasn't. I was essentially a prisoner in a uniform. I had no choice in the matter. But I tried to make the best of it and get along. For my brothers, it was very much the same way. We all tried to make the best out of a very bad situation. War buddies are still war buddies, no matter which side you fight on. We still joked and played cards and traded cigarettes because we had to, to stay sane at least. I'm not proud of the things I did or the things I saw others do; but I am fond of the memories I made with the people I grew close to. It's the only way to not go crazy when they get shot or blown up…"
May quietly looked down at her now empty plate, and the room took a much more somber mood than it had earlier. The TV squeaked with some commercial about allergy medicine, and the delicate sound of silverware clattering on plates was more evident since no one was speaking.
"Anyway, enough of that foolishness…" he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin and putting his plate in the sink. "You girls finish eating and go get dressed. We're going to go to the mall today and have a little bit of fun; my treat!"
"Yay!" the girls screamed out in unison as they dismounted their stools and went pouring into their bedroom to start getting ready. Opa probably underestimated the length of time it would take for three teenage girls to "get ready".
Barbara smiled and got up from the table, pushed her chair in, and walked over to the sink. She gathered all the dirty dishes and started to rinse them with hot water.
"Thanks for the breakfast, dad. Here, let me clean up!"
"It sure did fill me up!" he said, patting his belly and smiling.
"You really shouldn't be spending all this money on us though, dad. You've spent enough already…" Barbara said, putting on her gloves and scrubbing the dishes.
"Oh nonsense…" Opa said, waving his hand through the air and leaning up against the bar. "I get plenty of money with my pension and retirement; besides, you girls are plenty worth it. You deserve to be treated like this every now and then. Gives you reasons to live!"
"I guess so…" she said, chuckling and putting the last of the plates into the drying rack. She snapped her gloves off and tucked her hands into her robe pockets.
"Now you go get ready to, dear! Got a big day ahead of us!"
And indeed, it was a big day at the mall for the Kanker family. They walked around to all the stores and Opa bought the girls enough make up and clothes to last a lifetime. Barbara wanted to reject, but he insisted. For her he bought a new purse and some new pots for her kitchen – stainless steel! They all had lunch in the food court, and afterwards the sisters went to the arcade with a ten dollar bill a piece for some play time. Opa went to the candle shop to watch them make candles, and Barbara spent close to an hour in one of those massage chairs. By evening time, they were all pretty tired. They piled into the old Lincoln and Opa treated everyone to ice cream from the shop that Lee worked at.
It was the most fun the girls had had in a long time, and Barbara knew that they needed more days like this. Part of her wished that Opa wouldn't go back. By eleven o'clock that night, the girls were passed out in front of the TV, and Opa had fallen asleep in the chair with them. Barbara watched with particular wonder at the family she desperately wanted to keep together.