Chapter 3
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Cindy had always had trouble keeping a secret, and that hadn't changed even though she was now an adult. After Christina poured out her feelings over the phone Saturday night, Cindy went to Phillip and Jan's house on Sunday to help her sister decorate a bedroom for the new babies from China. She just had to unload on somebody, so she told Jan everything.
When Cindy had finally finished her lengthy narrative, Jan regarded her with a suspicious look. "I hope poor Christina didn't tell you all that in strict confidence," she said.
Cindy cleared her throat and said defensively, "Well, she didn't ask me not to tell anyone." But there was a guilty expression on her face all the same.
Jan smiled wryly. "Now you know why Marcia and I refused to tell you any secrets, even after you started college!" Cindy made a face at her and dipped a brush into a can of pale-pink paint.
"I gotta tell you something, Jan," Cindy said heatedly. "I'm beginning to think Peter misled me just to get Christina's phone number. I told him not to hurt her because she's still recovering from that guy in Boston who dumped her, but from what Christina said, Peter didn't listen to me. Imagine the nerve of him, going out with someone else when he acted like he was really interested in Christina!"
"Wait a minute here," Jan said, putting down a roll of wallpaper border to focus her full attention on the dilemma. "You told me that Christina said he asked if she'd go out with him sometime, and she didn't accept right away. Right?"
"Yeah, so?" Cindy prompted, diligently applying paint to the wall.
Jan shook her head. "Then tell me this. Did you really believe Peter was going to sit around his place all weekend long waiting for Christina to make up her mind? Of course he wouldn't. I'm not surprised at all that he accepted another date. For heaven's sake, he's the family bachelor. Most families have at least one of those, you know, and Peter's ours. No matter what he might have told you last week, there's no way on this earth he's going to fall seriously in love with any woman. He just likes playing the field too much for that."
"Well, then why did he try so hard to convince me he was going to be sensitive to Christina's situation?" Cindy asked. "If he really didn't care, he should never have fed me that load of horse hockey. And I wouldn't have given him her number either."
Jan chuckled and turned back to her wallpaper border. "It's been a long time since anyone turned Peter down for a date. I think he needs that once in a while to remind him that he isn't God's supreme gift to femininity." That cracked Cindy up, and Jan joined in.
"I see your point," Cindy admitted after a few minutes. "Maybe if more women said no when he asked them out, he wouldn't treat them so lightly, and maybe he'd have settled down by now." She frowned and dunked her brush into the paint can again. "But this way, he'll never change."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
All week long Peter was thoroughly perplexed by Christina's icy demeanor to him at work. More than once he tried to ask her what was wrong, but she refused to give him enough attention to let him get the question out of his mouth. Somehow she always managed to slip away from him, or find something urgent that had to be done immediately, or cut him off with a terse "I'm busy" that clearly stated she had nothing else to say to him. By the time quitting time arrived on Friday, he'd had just about enough. So when he got back to his apartment and found a message on his answering machine from his mother, advising him that the whole family was having dinner that evening at the Brady homestead in order to meet Jan and Phillip's new daughters, he decided he didn't want to be there. And with that, he promptly called his mother and told her so, in no uncertain terms.
"Peter, what's gotten into you?" exclaimed Carol in a hurt tone. "What are you so angry about?"
"It's a long story, Mom, and I'd rather not talk about it," Peter replied curtly.
"All right," Carol said, and then her voice turned stern. "But you ARE coming here for dinner and meeting your new nieces. That's not negotiable. We'll see you at six." She hung up on him so that he wouldn't have a chance to try to get out of it.
"Well, that's just great," Peter snapped out loud to the empty room. "I know what's gonna happen. Everybody'll grill me about Christina and why I didn't bring her with me. Wait till I tell them - I'll never hear the end of it. They never did believe I was serious about wanting to hook up with her anyway." He collapsed heavily into an aging armchair and massaged his forehead, hoping in vain that it would relieve his budding headache. What was it going to take to thaw out Christina? He'd turned down dinner and a movie with Jenny Anderson, even when she offered to pay for everything, in the hope that Christina would overhear and realize he wasn't dating around. Of course, Christina had been nowhere near them when it happened, nor had she seen Jenny stalk away from Peter's desk in an offended huff.
Then he thought of Greg. It was just possible Greg might have some advice; he'd always had it easy with women. Resentfully Peter reflected on Greg's never-failing popularity in high school, which had sometimes interfered with Peter's love life because the girls in his grade level always seemed to be more interested in Greg than in him. On the other hand, Greg had often given Peter good advice on girls, and Peter couldn't remember a time when any of Greg's suggestions hadn't worked. He might as well get something out of this night with his family and see if Greg had any ideas on what to do about Christina.
To his complete surprise, when he rang his parents' doorbell (which was necessary because the door was self-locking and nobody could get in from outside without a key, and Peter had forgotten his, as usual), it was Alice Nelson Franklin who answered it. "Alice!" he exclaimed, suddenly feeling better. If Alice was cooking, dinner would be worth whatever his family put him through. "Did you come up here just to meet Jan and Phillip's new twins?"
"You bet I did," Alice said with a big grin and returned Peter's hug. "You're looking good, Peter. Come on in and see the babies. They're just the cutest little things."
Peter followed Alice into the house and almost immediately spotted the babies - or more correctly, the admiring knot of Bradys gathered around the babies' playpen. "Hey," Peter yelled playfully, immensely cheered by Alice's presence, "you guys stand back and give those poor kids a little air before you suffocate them, huh?"
"Hi, Peter," called a ragged chorus of voices in response, and the crowd parted to give Peter enough space to squeeze in and get a good look at Misses Melissa and Deborah Covington. To Peter they looked identical, with soft, sparse black hair, inquisitive dark-brown eyes, a tiny dimple in each miniature chin, and even two front teeth apiece.
"How do you tell which one's which?" he asked Jan.
Jan grinned. "Patty and I have no trouble at all, but poor Phillip just gets all confused, so I dress Debby in green and Missy in pink. They're both wearing red sundresses right now because someone, who shall remain nameless, didn't realize they were identical twins."
"Oops," said Bobby, pretending exaggerated embarrassment, and everyone laughed. "Actually, you can blame Tracy for that. I think she's dropping hints at me lately."
"You're overdue to start a family anyway," Cindy teased him.
"Careful how much you nag us," Bobby warned her, half seriously, "or we'll start bugging you and Scott right back." He turned toward the kitchen and hollered, "Hey Trace, where's the food? We're all starving out here!"
"Keep your shirt on!" Tracy's and Alice's voices bellowed back in unison, and everyone laughed. Actually, dinner was served just then, and Peter kept his participation in the mealtime conversations as minimal as he could in the hope that nobody would think to ask where Christina was. It worked only partially, as quite a few comments about Peter coming stag circulated around the table; and Peter noticed some whispered remarks that were followed by guffaws. As it happened, Deborah and Melissa provided enough of a distraction to keep most of the other Bradys entertained once the meal had ended. However, Greg and Bobby cornered Peter and talked him into following them up to the bedroom the three brothers had once shared, so they could have some privacy.
"Don't tell me," said Peter with a long, put-upon sigh. "This is about Christina, isn't it?"
"Huh?" said Bobby in genuine surprise. "Christina who?"
Peter stared at him. "Whaddaya mean, 'Christina who'?"
Bobby shrugged. "We just wondered how come you didn't bring some date to this overblown shindig, that's all. Greg here thought there might be more to it than that, since you didn't say much at dinner, and he thought you looked kind of depressed or something."
Greg met Peter's stare head-on. "It's true, Pete, you look like something's really eating you. Why don't you cough it up?"
Peter sat on the sofa bed that now rested where he and Bobby had once had bunk beds, looking up at his brothers. "Sit down someplace, Bobby, you don't want to wear out those legs when you've finally got them back into some kind of working order." Bobby shot him a look, but when he saw Greg nod in agreement, he sat down without further protest. Peter looked at Greg. "How come he listens to you but not me?"
"Because I'm the doctor," Greg replied with a grin. "Now come on, Pete, quit stalling. Let's hear it."
Peter sighed again, his levity dissipating. "Well, I was gonna ask you for some advice anyway," he told Greg. "It does have to do with Christina. I can't figure out what the story is with her. She's been giving me the cold shoulder all week for some reason, and she won't talk to me even to tell me what I did to offend her so much. I even turned down a date with Jenny Anderson to show her I mean business, but I guess she wasn't even around to see Jenny ask, so she didn't see me say no."
Greg's eyebrows had popped up about three inches during this narrative; Bobby's face was alive with disbelief. "Are you talking about Christina Jensen? Our brother-in-law Scott's sister? The one you mentioned two weeks ago?"
"You don't have to act so astounded," Peter said, annoyed.
But Bobby seemed to be on a roll. To Greg he said, "This has to be some kind of record. Pete's never been interested in a girl for more than a week or so at a time. Somebody call the TV stations and let them know Pete Brady still wants the same girl two weeks in a row."
Greg stifled a snicker at Bobby's clowning around when he saw Peter's murderous expression. "Can it, Bobby, you know Pete's had a few serious relationships before. Remember Valerie? That lasted almost two years."
"Yeah, well, look where it ended up," Bobby pointed out. "Same place all his other, shorter relationships have ended up. Face it, Pete, you've dated too many women on a short-term basis for me to believe you're really interested in just one. Scott or Cindy must've told her all about you and now she knows better than to fall into your clutches." He snickered at his own wit.
Peter was so angry by now that he could no longer control his temper. "You know, Bobby, you're a perfect example of what I've been thinking all evening," he roared. "I finally meet a woman I really want to take the time to get to know and build a real, solid relationship with, and my own past rears up and bites me in my butt. It's gotten so bad that nobody's taking me seriously. Jan's teased me, you're teasing me, Greg thinks it's funny, Cindy thinks I'm not good enough for Christina, and Marcia busted a gut when Wally said P stands for 'philanderer' instead of 'Peter'. I'm afraid to tell Mom and Dad about her now, in case they think she's just another way for me to kill a few Friday nights. And if that little loudmouth Mickey breathes another word about harems, I'm gonna punch his miniature lights out. You can quote me on that." Greg and Bobby gaped at Peter while he paced the room, still ranting. "I know Cindy's friends with Christina, and you'd think she'd put in a good word for me, but no. Instead she gives me the third degree every time I see her. Cindy knows something and she isn't telling me. Does she really think I'm a worthless cad?"
Greg looked a bit alarmed by now. "I think we ought to bring Cindy into this and get her side of it," he said. "Maybe she can fill in the missing links."
"I'll get her," Bobby volunteered. He pushed himself out of his chair, grabbed his cane and headed for the door in a surprisingly fast gait punctuated by a pronounced limp.
When he'd left, Greg gave an approving nod. "Bobby's making great progress. Pretty soon he won't need that cane anymore."
Peter snorted. "Progress, my hind leg. He just wanted to get out of here before I strangled him."
Greg laughed. "Ease up, Pete. Let's see what Cindy has to say."
Several minutes later Bobby returned with Cindy in tow. "Okay, here she is," he said to Peter once he'd cleared the door. "Now maybe you'll get off my back."
"What's going on?" Cindy asked, perplexed.
Greg explained, "Pete says you've been taking Christina's side in this whole dating thing. I guess the family's been doing a little too much teasing, and he's had it. And I think he has a particular bone to pick with you, since Christina's your friend."
"Oh, I see," said Cindy. She turned to face Peter. "What's the problem?"
"What'd you tell Christina to make her treat me like an escaped serial killer?" Peter wanted to know.
"I didn't say anything to her," Cindy defended herself. "However Christina's treating you, it's her decision, not mine. But maybe if you quit dating other women, she might talk to you again."
"I'm not dating any other women!" Peter shouted, at the end of his rope. "Can't she see that?"
"Not according to what she told me," Cindy shot back. "She said you went out with Maura Gray last Friday. She overheard Maura ask you to a movie, and you went right ahead and accepted. She said you even made a remark about how you've gone out with everyone in the place."
Peter glared at her. "So that's why she won't give me the time of day," he said. "It would've been nice if she'd been within earshot when I told Jenny Anderson I didn't want to go out with her, earlier this afternoon. Look." He began to tick off on his fingers. "I'm not interested in Jenny. Maura is only a friend. I didn't want to date Stephanie, Allison, Bonnie, Heather, Charlene, Julia, Wendy, or anybody else. I STILL don't want to date any of them. The only one I'm interested in is Christina, period! Got it?"
"Why don't you tell her that, then?" Cindy said.
"That's a good idea," said Greg. "Christina needs to hear it, not us, Pete."
"As if she'll even listen to me," Peter scoffed. "There's no way I'll ever get her within earshot."
"So what you're saying is, you're honestly serious about wanting Christina for your girlfriend, on a long-term basis," Cindy said questioningly.
"About time somebody saw the light," said Peter. "It'd be nice if the rest of the family would try believing that for a change, and quit making snide remarks."
"Well, think about it from our point of view," Bobby suggested. "Come on, Pete, even you have to admit, you've got one heck of a track record where women are concerned. We used to think Greg was the Love-'Em-and-Leave-'Em champion, but that was nothing compared to you. Here you are in your mid- thirties and you're still acting like a college frat boy."
"Greg, can you resuscitate this idiot?" Peter demanded angrily. "Because I AM going to strangle him!" He actually lunged toward Bobby before Greg and Cindy gained enough presence of mind to restrain him. "I never asked for your two cents, Bobby, so keep it to yourself!"
"Quit pushing him, Bobby," Cindy said. "You still have this bad habit of sticking your nose into other people's love lives."
"Since when?" demanded Bobby.
"Since you horned in on a date I had with Rachel . . . Rachel what's-her- name, years ago," Greg told him. "It figures, I can't even remember the girl's last name, but I do remember Bobby making a first-class pest of himself and tearing a hole in the roof of our convertible with an umbrella."
"I remember that too," Cindy said, grinning. "Dad was furious for days."
"I thought we were discussing Peter, not me," Bobby protested.
"So you can dish it out but you can't take it?" Peter said. "Hey, you two, you can let me go. I promise not to wrap my hands around Bobby's throat." Greg and Cindy released him reluctantly, both watching him. After a moment Peter turned to his sister. "Since you're here, you can give me the answer I'm looking for. What can I do to get Christina to talk to me again?"
"You promise you're really serious about doing right by her?" Cindy asked, leaning toward him a bit and pinning him with a narrow-eyed look.
"On my life," Peter said.
Bobby couldn't seem to resist. "Cross your heart and hope to die?"
"Shut UP, Bobby," Greg, Peter and Cindy all growled simultaneously. Bobby put up his hands in surrender, and Cindy looked at Peter. "Okay, big brother, here's what you have to do."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Cindy had always had trouble keeping a secret, and that hadn't changed even though she was now an adult. After Christina poured out her feelings over the phone Saturday night, Cindy went to Phillip and Jan's house on Sunday to help her sister decorate a bedroom for the new babies from China. She just had to unload on somebody, so she told Jan everything.
When Cindy had finally finished her lengthy narrative, Jan regarded her with a suspicious look. "I hope poor Christina didn't tell you all that in strict confidence," she said.
Cindy cleared her throat and said defensively, "Well, she didn't ask me not to tell anyone." But there was a guilty expression on her face all the same.
Jan smiled wryly. "Now you know why Marcia and I refused to tell you any secrets, even after you started college!" Cindy made a face at her and dipped a brush into a can of pale-pink paint.
"I gotta tell you something, Jan," Cindy said heatedly. "I'm beginning to think Peter misled me just to get Christina's phone number. I told him not to hurt her because she's still recovering from that guy in Boston who dumped her, but from what Christina said, Peter didn't listen to me. Imagine the nerve of him, going out with someone else when he acted like he was really interested in Christina!"
"Wait a minute here," Jan said, putting down a roll of wallpaper border to focus her full attention on the dilemma. "You told me that Christina said he asked if she'd go out with him sometime, and she didn't accept right away. Right?"
"Yeah, so?" Cindy prompted, diligently applying paint to the wall.
Jan shook her head. "Then tell me this. Did you really believe Peter was going to sit around his place all weekend long waiting for Christina to make up her mind? Of course he wouldn't. I'm not surprised at all that he accepted another date. For heaven's sake, he's the family bachelor. Most families have at least one of those, you know, and Peter's ours. No matter what he might have told you last week, there's no way on this earth he's going to fall seriously in love with any woman. He just likes playing the field too much for that."
"Well, then why did he try so hard to convince me he was going to be sensitive to Christina's situation?" Cindy asked. "If he really didn't care, he should never have fed me that load of horse hockey. And I wouldn't have given him her number either."
Jan chuckled and turned back to her wallpaper border. "It's been a long time since anyone turned Peter down for a date. I think he needs that once in a while to remind him that he isn't God's supreme gift to femininity." That cracked Cindy up, and Jan joined in.
"I see your point," Cindy admitted after a few minutes. "Maybe if more women said no when he asked them out, he wouldn't treat them so lightly, and maybe he'd have settled down by now." She frowned and dunked her brush into the paint can again. "But this way, he'll never change."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
All week long Peter was thoroughly perplexed by Christina's icy demeanor to him at work. More than once he tried to ask her what was wrong, but she refused to give him enough attention to let him get the question out of his mouth. Somehow she always managed to slip away from him, or find something urgent that had to be done immediately, or cut him off with a terse "I'm busy" that clearly stated she had nothing else to say to him. By the time quitting time arrived on Friday, he'd had just about enough. So when he got back to his apartment and found a message on his answering machine from his mother, advising him that the whole family was having dinner that evening at the Brady homestead in order to meet Jan and Phillip's new daughters, he decided he didn't want to be there. And with that, he promptly called his mother and told her so, in no uncertain terms.
"Peter, what's gotten into you?" exclaimed Carol in a hurt tone. "What are you so angry about?"
"It's a long story, Mom, and I'd rather not talk about it," Peter replied curtly.
"All right," Carol said, and then her voice turned stern. "But you ARE coming here for dinner and meeting your new nieces. That's not negotiable. We'll see you at six." She hung up on him so that he wouldn't have a chance to try to get out of it.
"Well, that's just great," Peter snapped out loud to the empty room. "I know what's gonna happen. Everybody'll grill me about Christina and why I didn't bring her with me. Wait till I tell them - I'll never hear the end of it. They never did believe I was serious about wanting to hook up with her anyway." He collapsed heavily into an aging armchair and massaged his forehead, hoping in vain that it would relieve his budding headache. What was it going to take to thaw out Christina? He'd turned down dinner and a movie with Jenny Anderson, even when she offered to pay for everything, in the hope that Christina would overhear and realize he wasn't dating around. Of course, Christina had been nowhere near them when it happened, nor had she seen Jenny stalk away from Peter's desk in an offended huff.
Then he thought of Greg. It was just possible Greg might have some advice; he'd always had it easy with women. Resentfully Peter reflected on Greg's never-failing popularity in high school, which had sometimes interfered with Peter's love life because the girls in his grade level always seemed to be more interested in Greg than in him. On the other hand, Greg had often given Peter good advice on girls, and Peter couldn't remember a time when any of Greg's suggestions hadn't worked. He might as well get something out of this night with his family and see if Greg had any ideas on what to do about Christina.
To his complete surprise, when he rang his parents' doorbell (which was necessary because the door was self-locking and nobody could get in from outside without a key, and Peter had forgotten his, as usual), it was Alice Nelson Franklin who answered it. "Alice!" he exclaimed, suddenly feeling better. If Alice was cooking, dinner would be worth whatever his family put him through. "Did you come up here just to meet Jan and Phillip's new twins?"
"You bet I did," Alice said with a big grin and returned Peter's hug. "You're looking good, Peter. Come on in and see the babies. They're just the cutest little things."
Peter followed Alice into the house and almost immediately spotted the babies - or more correctly, the admiring knot of Bradys gathered around the babies' playpen. "Hey," Peter yelled playfully, immensely cheered by Alice's presence, "you guys stand back and give those poor kids a little air before you suffocate them, huh?"
"Hi, Peter," called a ragged chorus of voices in response, and the crowd parted to give Peter enough space to squeeze in and get a good look at Misses Melissa and Deborah Covington. To Peter they looked identical, with soft, sparse black hair, inquisitive dark-brown eyes, a tiny dimple in each miniature chin, and even two front teeth apiece.
"How do you tell which one's which?" he asked Jan.
Jan grinned. "Patty and I have no trouble at all, but poor Phillip just gets all confused, so I dress Debby in green and Missy in pink. They're both wearing red sundresses right now because someone, who shall remain nameless, didn't realize they were identical twins."
"Oops," said Bobby, pretending exaggerated embarrassment, and everyone laughed. "Actually, you can blame Tracy for that. I think she's dropping hints at me lately."
"You're overdue to start a family anyway," Cindy teased him.
"Careful how much you nag us," Bobby warned her, half seriously, "or we'll start bugging you and Scott right back." He turned toward the kitchen and hollered, "Hey Trace, where's the food? We're all starving out here!"
"Keep your shirt on!" Tracy's and Alice's voices bellowed back in unison, and everyone laughed. Actually, dinner was served just then, and Peter kept his participation in the mealtime conversations as minimal as he could in the hope that nobody would think to ask where Christina was. It worked only partially, as quite a few comments about Peter coming stag circulated around the table; and Peter noticed some whispered remarks that were followed by guffaws. As it happened, Deborah and Melissa provided enough of a distraction to keep most of the other Bradys entertained once the meal had ended. However, Greg and Bobby cornered Peter and talked him into following them up to the bedroom the three brothers had once shared, so they could have some privacy.
"Don't tell me," said Peter with a long, put-upon sigh. "This is about Christina, isn't it?"
"Huh?" said Bobby in genuine surprise. "Christina who?"
Peter stared at him. "Whaddaya mean, 'Christina who'?"
Bobby shrugged. "We just wondered how come you didn't bring some date to this overblown shindig, that's all. Greg here thought there might be more to it than that, since you didn't say much at dinner, and he thought you looked kind of depressed or something."
Greg met Peter's stare head-on. "It's true, Pete, you look like something's really eating you. Why don't you cough it up?"
Peter sat on the sofa bed that now rested where he and Bobby had once had bunk beds, looking up at his brothers. "Sit down someplace, Bobby, you don't want to wear out those legs when you've finally got them back into some kind of working order." Bobby shot him a look, but when he saw Greg nod in agreement, he sat down without further protest. Peter looked at Greg. "How come he listens to you but not me?"
"Because I'm the doctor," Greg replied with a grin. "Now come on, Pete, quit stalling. Let's hear it."
Peter sighed again, his levity dissipating. "Well, I was gonna ask you for some advice anyway," he told Greg. "It does have to do with Christina. I can't figure out what the story is with her. She's been giving me the cold shoulder all week for some reason, and she won't talk to me even to tell me what I did to offend her so much. I even turned down a date with Jenny Anderson to show her I mean business, but I guess she wasn't even around to see Jenny ask, so she didn't see me say no."
Greg's eyebrows had popped up about three inches during this narrative; Bobby's face was alive with disbelief. "Are you talking about Christina Jensen? Our brother-in-law Scott's sister? The one you mentioned two weeks ago?"
"You don't have to act so astounded," Peter said, annoyed.
But Bobby seemed to be on a roll. To Greg he said, "This has to be some kind of record. Pete's never been interested in a girl for more than a week or so at a time. Somebody call the TV stations and let them know Pete Brady still wants the same girl two weeks in a row."
Greg stifled a snicker at Bobby's clowning around when he saw Peter's murderous expression. "Can it, Bobby, you know Pete's had a few serious relationships before. Remember Valerie? That lasted almost two years."
"Yeah, well, look where it ended up," Bobby pointed out. "Same place all his other, shorter relationships have ended up. Face it, Pete, you've dated too many women on a short-term basis for me to believe you're really interested in just one. Scott or Cindy must've told her all about you and now she knows better than to fall into your clutches." He snickered at his own wit.
Peter was so angry by now that he could no longer control his temper. "You know, Bobby, you're a perfect example of what I've been thinking all evening," he roared. "I finally meet a woman I really want to take the time to get to know and build a real, solid relationship with, and my own past rears up and bites me in my butt. It's gotten so bad that nobody's taking me seriously. Jan's teased me, you're teasing me, Greg thinks it's funny, Cindy thinks I'm not good enough for Christina, and Marcia busted a gut when Wally said P stands for 'philanderer' instead of 'Peter'. I'm afraid to tell Mom and Dad about her now, in case they think she's just another way for me to kill a few Friday nights. And if that little loudmouth Mickey breathes another word about harems, I'm gonna punch his miniature lights out. You can quote me on that." Greg and Bobby gaped at Peter while he paced the room, still ranting. "I know Cindy's friends with Christina, and you'd think she'd put in a good word for me, but no. Instead she gives me the third degree every time I see her. Cindy knows something and she isn't telling me. Does she really think I'm a worthless cad?"
Greg looked a bit alarmed by now. "I think we ought to bring Cindy into this and get her side of it," he said. "Maybe she can fill in the missing links."
"I'll get her," Bobby volunteered. He pushed himself out of his chair, grabbed his cane and headed for the door in a surprisingly fast gait punctuated by a pronounced limp.
When he'd left, Greg gave an approving nod. "Bobby's making great progress. Pretty soon he won't need that cane anymore."
Peter snorted. "Progress, my hind leg. He just wanted to get out of here before I strangled him."
Greg laughed. "Ease up, Pete. Let's see what Cindy has to say."
Several minutes later Bobby returned with Cindy in tow. "Okay, here she is," he said to Peter once he'd cleared the door. "Now maybe you'll get off my back."
"What's going on?" Cindy asked, perplexed.
Greg explained, "Pete says you've been taking Christina's side in this whole dating thing. I guess the family's been doing a little too much teasing, and he's had it. And I think he has a particular bone to pick with you, since Christina's your friend."
"Oh, I see," said Cindy. She turned to face Peter. "What's the problem?"
"What'd you tell Christina to make her treat me like an escaped serial killer?" Peter wanted to know.
"I didn't say anything to her," Cindy defended herself. "However Christina's treating you, it's her decision, not mine. But maybe if you quit dating other women, she might talk to you again."
"I'm not dating any other women!" Peter shouted, at the end of his rope. "Can't she see that?"
"Not according to what she told me," Cindy shot back. "She said you went out with Maura Gray last Friday. She overheard Maura ask you to a movie, and you went right ahead and accepted. She said you even made a remark about how you've gone out with everyone in the place."
Peter glared at her. "So that's why she won't give me the time of day," he said. "It would've been nice if she'd been within earshot when I told Jenny Anderson I didn't want to go out with her, earlier this afternoon. Look." He began to tick off on his fingers. "I'm not interested in Jenny. Maura is only a friend. I didn't want to date Stephanie, Allison, Bonnie, Heather, Charlene, Julia, Wendy, or anybody else. I STILL don't want to date any of them. The only one I'm interested in is Christina, period! Got it?"
"Why don't you tell her that, then?" Cindy said.
"That's a good idea," said Greg. "Christina needs to hear it, not us, Pete."
"As if she'll even listen to me," Peter scoffed. "There's no way I'll ever get her within earshot."
"So what you're saying is, you're honestly serious about wanting Christina for your girlfriend, on a long-term basis," Cindy said questioningly.
"About time somebody saw the light," said Peter. "It'd be nice if the rest of the family would try believing that for a change, and quit making snide remarks."
"Well, think about it from our point of view," Bobby suggested. "Come on, Pete, even you have to admit, you've got one heck of a track record where women are concerned. We used to think Greg was the Love-'Em-and-Leave-'Em champion, but that was nothing compared to you. Here you are in your mid- thirties and you're still acting like a college frat boy."
"Greg, can you resuscitate this idiot?" Peter demanded angrily. "Because I AM going to strangle him!" He actually lunged toward Bobby before Greg and Cindy gained enough presence of mind to restrain him. "I never asked for your two cents, Bobby, so keep it to yourself!"
"Quit pushing him, Bobby," Cindy said. "You still have this bad habit of sticking your nose into other people's love lives."
"Since when?" demanded Bobby.
"Since you horned in on a date I had with Rachel . . . Rachel what's-her- name, years ago," Greg told him. "It figures, I can't even remember the girl's last name, but I do remember Bobby making a first-class pest of himself and tearing a hole in the roof of our convertible with an umbrella."
"I remember that too," Cindy said, grinning. "Dad was furious for days."
"I thought we were discussing Peter, not me," Bobby protested.
"So you can dish it out but you can't take it?" Peter said. "Hey, you two, you can let me go. I promise not to wrap my hands around Bobby's throat." Greg and Cindy released him reluctantly, both watching him. After a moment Peter turned to his sister. "Since you're here, you can give me the answer I'm looking for. What can I do to get Christina to talk to me again?"
"You promise you're really serious about doing right by her?" Cindy asked, leaning toward him a bit and pinning him with a narrow-eyed look.
"On my life," Peter said.
Bobby couldn't seem to resist. "Cross your heart and hope to die?"
"Shut UP, Bobby," Greg, Peter and Cindy all growled simultaneously. Bobby put up his hands in surrender, and Cindy looked at Peter. "Okay, big brother, here's what you have to do."
