Chapter 5
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Six months passed, and Peter and Christina grew closer with each week. It seemed that Peter's life, after decades of setbacks, failures and disappointments, was finally starting to get really on track. He was made supervisor in his department and got a nice raise out of it, enabling him to start setting aside money to buy a house. Christina, meanwhile, found a job as a legal secretary, the same work she had done in Boston. Even Allison Caine finally backed off; evidently she had taken Peter's warning to heart, for she kept her distance from him. (Peter's friend and co- worker, Fred, had taken the suggestion Tim passed on from Peter and asked Allison out. The two were playing quite a game of cat-and-mouse, but everyone could see that Allison loved the attention, which kept her mind off harassing Peter.)
Christina had loved the Danish lace curtains, just as Marcia had predicted; and she got quite a kick out of her new coffee mug too. When Peter's birthday rolled around a couple of months later, she did him a favor by replacing his ancient watch with a brand-new one. They always made a date for either Friday or Saturday evenings, and after they'd been dating a month or so, Christina and Peter spent their first full weekend together.
In short, Peter was high on life, to coin a cliché. Everything was going so well that he started to get stomach pains, which completely puzzled him. Christina urged him to see his doctor about it, and after a few rounds of her insistence and his resistance, he finally caved in and went. The doctor, to Peter's utter astonishment, told him he was developing an ulcer.
"You're joking," Peter blurted. "I'm happier than I've ever been in my entire life. How could I be getting an ulcer now?"
Dr. Matsuyama gave Peter a long, thoughtful look, and at length asked, "Would you mind giving me a synopsis of your personal history, Peter?"
Peter thought about it. "Well, I suppose I've had sort of an eventful life," he said slowly. "My real mom died of cancer when I was in second grade, and my father remarried a few years later. I was one of those kids who are always trying to find their places in life. I kept getting fired from one job after another - a bike shop, the ice-cream place, the pizza parlor, all sorts of stuff. I tried the school paper in ninth grade and got booted off it after my science marks dropped. I spent some time in the Army, but they sent me all over the country and I got homesick. College wasn't anything special . . . it took me two years to settle on a major, and then I couldn't find a job that was related to my degree. I've had dozens of girlfriends and I've been engaged three or four times, but they always ended for one reason or another."
"I see," said Dr. Matsuyama.
"But my life is different now," Peter went on, leaning forward intensely. "I've got a great job, just got a promotion and a raise, my co-workers are super people, and I have the most incredible girlfriend in the world. I'm saving money to buy a house. I'm eating right, I'm close to my family, I get out of the house all the time and exercise a lot - bike riding, swimming, bowling, you know. I don't smoke and I drink in moderation, and I stay away from drugs. I even use sunscreen when I'm supposed to. So why would I get an ulcer only now, when I'm happy, and not in all the years before this?"
"I'm not an expert in matters of the mind," Dr. Matsuyama observed, "but I do have a theory. Given your history, Peter, I'd say you've subconsciously gotten accustomed to trying one thing after another and having it not work out. So as you grew up, you learned to expect failure. Something in your subconscious is having a hard time accepting that everything's going your way now, and it's agonizing over losing it all. It might think that you'll lose your job again, your girlfriend will break up with you, et cetera. It sounds to me as if you've found your niche in life now. You've got a job you really enjoy and that you're good at; you have a girlfriend you're very much in love with; and as you said, you're able to save money for the first time. So what you need to do is convince yourself that nothing will take that away. And you can't do it alone; you need the support of your friends and family. Do you have that?"
Peter opened his mouth to reply and then froze as a thundering realization slammed into him. Could it possibly be that . . . ?? He refocused on the doctor and breathed, "I think I know the underlying cause of all this, doc."
"What would that be?" Dr. Matsuyama prompted.
"My family," Peter said. "Not so much my parents, but my brothers and sisters and their spouses. I mean, we've all been pretty close, but I think they expect me to stumble at everything I try. I've been seeing my girlfriend for about the last six months now, and it took some doing to get her to go out with me. My brothers and sisters knew all about it, and you wouldn't believe how much they heckled me. They cracked jokes, they made smart-alecky remarks, you name it. Even now only one of my sisters really believes I'm going to succeed with my life and my relationship. The rest of them are just waiting for me to take another tumble. And if what you say about this unconscious thing - "
"Subconscious," Dr. Matsuyama corrected gently, stifling a smile.
Peter grinned sheepishly. "Okay, subconscious. Anyway, if that's true, then what it really means is that my brothers and sisters are behind this, uh, subconscious belief that I'm going to fail. They expect me to, and I guess something in me is programmed to live up to their expectations - and maybe my own, by extension - so I go ahead and fail. I've gotta find some way to succeed at what I've got now, so they'll quit expecting me to blow it again."
"Sounds to me like you've got it nailed down," Dr. Matsuyama said. "Good, then you work on your family and keep me informed. In the meantime, your ulcer isn't full-blown, so you should be able to control it with diet. But if it gets any worse, call me right away."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When he told Christina, she stared at him in surprise. "You think your brothers and sisters are to blame for this ulcer you almost have?"
"Well, this is what I told the doctor," Peter said and explained to her the theory he'd given Dr. Matsuyama. "It's not really so bad with Cindy - after all, she helped me when I was trying to get back on your good side." Christina smiled at that. "But the others . . . well, let's just say I'm getting a little tired of being seen as the family black sheep, if I can be called that. I just need to think of some way to convince them that I'm not gonna screw up this time."
"The question is, how?" Christina said. "I can understand, honey, believe me. To this day my brothers and sisters expect me to be the one who sits on the sidelines. It's so bad that whenever I open my mouth at family gatherings, they all stare at me as if the President's just announced that the South seceded again. So don't worry, Peter, I'm behind you one hundred percent."
Peter hugged her. "You're really good for me, sweetheart. You're the best. I just need a little time to think about what I'm going to do."
It took Peter exactly three and a half days to come up with the solution. On his way home from work he stopped for something important. It ended up taking him so long that he didn't get home till almost nine that night and thus missed a phone call from his parents. Mike's voice on the answering machine said humorously, "Guess what, Pete - it's another mass gathering of Bradys. Apparently there are several announcements being made here. One's from Greg and Nora, another one from Scott and Cindy, and Bobby and Tracy have some news too, it seems. Your mother figured we might as well get them all done at the same time, so we're having a big barbecue over here on Saturday afternoon. Don't forget to bring Christina."
"Perfect," Peter said aloud, resetting the machine. "This fits right in with my plan. I'm going to knock this family on its collective ear."
He punched out his parents' number on the phone, and when Carol picked up, he said, "Hi, Mom, it's Peter. I just got Dad's message about the cookout. Should we bring anything?"
"Now that you mention it," Carol said, "I think it would be a great idea to do a potluck. It would save your father and me plenty of time and money on the food. But Peter, I didn't know you could cook. Or is Christina going to do it?"
"I'm just full of surprises," Peter told her smugly. "When I was in the Army, I learned how to make tuna salad and peanut-butter-oatmeal cookies. So I can bring those, and Christina can bring her specialty, which is homemade chocolate-cheesecake ice cream."
"Oh my goodness," Carol said, "sounds rich. By all means, have her bring it. And we'll all look forward to your cookies and tuna salad." Carol paused for a moment. "Peter . . . did you say peanut butter and oatmeal?"
"Sure did," Peter said and laughed. "And believe it or not, Mom, they're really good. You'll see when we get there. What time do you plan on having us all there?"
"Let's say two," said Carol, "so we'll all have a chance to cook whatever needs cooking and eat without rushing. Especially Jan and Phillip, with a pair of one-year-olds in tow. All right?"
"Great, Mom, see you then," Peter agreed and hung up. Only then did he allow himself to grin widely. If his plan worked, he was going to truly savor his family's expressions. Maybe he should bring a camera and take pictures.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Peter and Christina arrived right at the stroke of two on Saturday afternoon. Peter carried two large covered plastic containers, and Christina bore another similar container. The place was already packed; not only were Mike's and Carol's cars in the driveway, but so were Jan and Phillip's minivan and Wally and Marcia's station wagon. Greg and Nora's car was parked at the curb, and behind that was Scott and Cindy's jeep. Peter pulled in behind that and remarked, "Looks like everyone's here except Bobby and Tracy."
"I can't wait to hear what all the news is," Christina remarked, handing Peter his containers of tuna salad and cookies. "I tried to get Scott to tell me his and Cindy's news in advance, but he wouldn't say a word. And he wouldn't even let me talk to Cindy."
"She probably wouldn't have told either," Peter said with a chuckle. "And if you'd known Cindy as a kid, you wouldn't have believed it. Back then she couldn't keep a secret if someone told her to keep it or die by slow torture. I guess my kid sister grew up."
Peter was right; the entire Brady conglomeration was crammed into the backyard, and the grill was already heating up. They'd just finished greeting everyone when Bobby and Tracy arrived - and Bobby was walking without his cane!
Everyone noticed just about simultaneously, and there was a hush so sudden and complete that it was almost funny. Then shouts and cheers exploded into the warm late-summer afternoon, and the whole family crowded around Bobby. Carol was in tears, and even Mike's eyes looked suspiciously shiny. Eventually the worst of the excitement died down, and the family gave Bobby and Tracy enough room to find lawn chairs and sit down with all the rest of them. "How long have you been going without the cane?" Greg asked.
"About a week or so now," Bobby answered, basking in his family's joy. "I actually started trying it about a month ago, and I've been increasing my unassisted walking time every day. The doc thinks that by Halloween I can get rid of it for good."
"He's really been gung ho," Tracy remarked proudly, squeezing Bobby's hand. "I practically had to stop him from carrying me across the yard when we got here."
Everyone laughed; then Marcia asked, "So is that your news?" She beat Peter to the punch; he'd been thinking the same thing.
"Part of it," Tracy said. "You'll hear the rest later when all the announcements are being made."
"Oh, come on, Aunt Tracy," Jessica Logan pleaded, "can't you tell us now?"
"Yeah, we can't wait that long," Patty Covington put in.
Tracy grinned at them. "Sorry, girls, it's top secret till later. And nothing in the world is gonna change my mind, so don't even try it. Otherwise I'll tell your mothers on you both."
"Tracy's so good with kids," Christina said wistfully, watching Peter's nieces giggling with Tracy.
"Yeah, she's a nut," said Peter. "Not as bad as Wally. Tracy's a nut in a good way." He glanced at Christina and grinned at her look askance. "Well, Wally isn't a bad sort of nut. He just has a way of bumbling around and putting his foot in his mouth. He's not the most tactful guy I ever met, but he loves his family and tries to do right by them. And he's crazy about Marcia, so I guess that makes him all right, at least in my book."
"I just wish I felt as easy around kids," Christina said. "I even took awhile to get used to my nieces and nephews. It's as if kids know I don't know what to say to them, and they avoid me."
"Let's see if I can fix that," Peter said and crossed the yard to where Phillip was standing, chatting with Mike and Greg at the grill, and Marcia, Jan, Cindy and Nora were filling trays with tall glasses of lemonade. "Hey, Jan, can I borrow one of the twins?"
"Go right ahead," said Jan. "You know how they love attention. Besides, it'll get them out of my hair for awhile. I'll never finish putting together my Caesar salad this way." Both Deborah and Melissa were clinging to their mother, each twin clutching an ankle. Peter leaned around Cindy and plucked Deborah off Jan's left ankle, lifting the surprised child high into the air and spinning around on one foot. Deborah laughed, and Peter whisked her off to where Christina sat.
"This is Jan's daughter," Peter introduced her, "Deborah Covington. Debby, this is Christina. She's a real nice lady, and she'll play with you till your mommy gets done making salad."
"Hi, Debby," Christina said, eyes widening with enchantment. "What a cutie you are!" She took Deborah onto her lap and began to bounce gently. It was an old trick, but timeless; Christina had never known a baby or toddler who didn't love to be bounced. Deborah fell right into it, giggling and squealing in delight.
Jan, looking harried, appeared then with Melissa. "Since you've saddled poor Christina with one of these mini-tornadoes, you get to take charge of the other one, Pete. All I ask is a half hour."
"They must really keep you on your toes," Christina said quizzically.
"Oh, they do," Jan assured her, smiling. "But Patty's a big help with them, and I wouldn't trade my girls for anything on earth." She glanced between the twins for a moment, her smile lingering, then seemed to come back to earth. "Well, I better get to that salad while I can."
They kept the twins entertained, now and then fielding comments from other family members and occasionally getting some help from the older Brady grandchildren, until nearly four o'clock when Mike finally issued the call to dinner. Wally and Marcia, Greg and Nora, and Phillip and Jan had brought along patio tables to supplement Mike and Carol's, and Scott and Cindy had brought a card table for the kids. Jan brought out the twins' playpen and set it near the older children's table, giving each girl sliced bananas and apples in bowls. Everyone else grabbed plates and plastic utensils and made a circuit through the kitchen, where all the food had been set out buffet-style.
Mike waited till most of them had had their fill before getting to his feet and calling for everyone's attention. "Well, folks," he began, "this supper was delicious . . . "
Mickey Logan released a loud, long burp. "Sure was," he said.
Amid the poorly stifled laughter, Marcia said sternly, "You know what you're supposed to say, Michael Walter Logan, don't you? Let's hear it."
"Excuse me," Mickey said, somewhat grudgingly.
"Pig," said Jessica, turning up her nose.
Marcia shushed them while the chuckles gradually subsided. When quiet reigned again, Mike went on. "Thanks, all, for contributing. I hear Peter's brought peanut-butter and oatmeal cookies, so that gives us something new to look forward to. But first . . . some of you have told Carol and me that you have some announcements to make, so why don't we start with you, Greg and Nora."
He sat down and Greg and Nora stood up. "Well, Kevin already knows about this," Greg said, "and he hasn't quite decided how he feels about it yet. We were hoping for a warmer reception from the rest of the family." He grinned. "Nora's three months pregnant."
Surprised exclamations rang out, along with applause. Greg and Nora sat again, and someone asked if they wanted a boy or a girl. Kevin's voice rang out: "If I gotta put up with a baby in the house, it better be a boy." Everyone laughed.
"I guess we're next," Bobby said and stood up, then tugged on Tracy's arm to make her get up as well. "You've already seen one part of our news. The other part is . . . well, Tracy's expecting too, and she's almost two months along. So we're finally starting a family. Your turn now, Cindy," he hinted at his sister, who rolled her eyes at him.
"Surprise," Cindy said and stood up, addressing the family as a whole but staring right at Bobby as she said it. "I'm also three months pregnant!" She grinned and sat down again as the family erupted into babbling.
"My word," Carol finally said, loudly enough for most of them to hear. "Three new grandchildren coming along all at once. I don't know if I can take it."
Peter decided, in the midst of the confusion, that now was the right time. The butterflies in his stomach had been growing into ever-bigger mutations, so that he figured now there were about twenty pterodactyls in there. They weren't going to get any smaller, so he might as well say his piece. He stood up, drawing everyone's attention.
"If you say there's a baby coming . . . " Carol began.
Peter grinned. "No, Mom, nothing like that. I thought I'd provide a little variety, since I have an announcement of my own to make." He turned to Christina and added, "Mine's in the form of a question. Christina Jensen, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
Christina looked as if someone had dropped a sledgehammer on her foot, but only for a moment, while Peter's abdominal pterodactyls struggled to morph into helicopters. And then she leaped out of her chair, overturning it, and cried, "Yes!!"
"YAHOO!" Peter shouted, and that touched off a round of loud cheering and applause for him. If this didn't cure his ulcer and get his family to realize how serious he was about this woman, then nothing would. Christina fairly threw herself onto him and wrapped her arms around him; Peter hugged her back, thrilled at his good fortune.
"The last holdout's finally gonna tie the knot, huh?" cackled Wally gleefully. "This calls for a celebration. Mike, you happen to have any champagne?"
And so all the adults had champagne and peanut-butter-oatmeal cookies to top off the meal, plus a small bowl of Christina's chocolate-cheesecake ice cream. Peter presented Christina with a small diamond ring - the item he'd gone to buy after work the night Mike had called about the cookout - after which everyone drank a toast.
It was when the Brady siblings and their spouses and kids began preparing to go home that it happened. "Don't you think all your former girlfriends are gonna be jealous?" Bobby asked Peter, passing by with a shopping bag full of Tupperware in which Tracy had brought potato salad.
"Who cares if they are?" asked Peter, frowning. "They'll just have to live with it."
"You just better hope they don't show up and stop the wedding," Bobby said and grinned. "See ya later, Pete."
Since Christina was in the kitchen helping Carol clean up in spite of Carol's protests, Peter might have gone after his brother to pound on him, except that he overheard his own name and paused to reply. Just in time he stopped himself, because the word had been part of a conversation. "I hope this one sticks. Peter's been engaged before and it's never worked out." The voice was Jan's.
Peter could see that Phillip and Jan were about fifteen feet away in the gathering darkness, collapsing the twins' playpen and chatting softly. "Well, third time's the charm, isn't that what they say?" inquired Phillip mildly.
"This is the fourth time," Jan informed him.
"Come on, Jan," Phillip said. "I really believe Peter's serious about it this time. Look what he went through to win that girl over. Why would he back out now?"
"He was serious about Valerie too," Jan said. "He was all excited about getting married to her and then broke up with her because she made more money than he did." Peter had an overwhelming urge to correct her: he'd broken up with Valerie because, in the end, Valerie had proven to be more interested in her career than in him. But Jan spoke again, keeping him quiet. "Peter's really pretty insecure when it comes to women. It always seems like every time he gets really close to one, something turns out to be wrong and he backs off. What's going to make this any different?"
Peter turned away and started for his car, shaking his head to himself. 'Nothing ever changes,' he thought morosely. 'The happiest day of my life and they have to go and spoil it.'
He didn't get a chance to brood any further because Mickey's voice carried through the summer evening. "Hey, Dad, am I gonna have to get dressed up for Uncle Peter's wedding?"
"If Uncle Peter has any sense, he won't invite you," came Jessica's disgusted reply. "Not after the complete lack of table manners you displayed this afternoon. You're too disgusting to invite anywhere, Mickey."
"That's enough, you two," Marcia's weary voice said. 'She must say that a hundred times a day,' Peter reflected to himself.
Then Wally said, "Don't get too excited yet, Mickey. First we've gotta wait and see if there really will be a wedding, and then we'll worry about you getting dressed up for it."
Peter cursed softly to himself. He'd really thought this was going to do it; he'd even given Christina a ring, and that should have proven just how committed he was. Yet no one's opinion had changed at all! What was he going to do now?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Six months passed, and Peter and Christina grew closer with each week. It seemed that Peter's life, after decades of setbacks, failures and disappointments, was finally starting to get really on track. He was made supervisor in his department and got a nice raise out of it, enabling him to start setting aside money to buy a house. Christina, meanwhile, found a job as a legal secretary, the same work she had done in Boston. Even Allison Caine finally backed off; evidently she had taken Peter's warning to heart, for she kept her distance from him. (Peter's friend and co- worker, Fred, had taken the suggestion Tim passed on from Peter and asked Allison out. The two were playing quite a game of cat-and-mouse, but everyone could see that Allison loved the attention, which kept her mind off harassing Peter.)
Christina had loved the Danish lace curtains, just as Marcia had predicted; and she got quite a kick out of her new coffee mug too. When Peter's birthday rolled around a couple of months later, she did him a favor by replacing his ancient watch with a brand-new one. They always made a date for either Friday or Saturday evenings, and after they'd been dating a month or so, Christina and Peter spent their first full weekend together.
In short, Peter was high on life, to coin a cliché. Everything was going so well that he started to get stomach pains, which completely puzzled him. Christina urged him to see his doctor about it, and after a few rounds of her insistence and his resistance, he finally caved in and went. The doctor, to Peter's utter astonishment, told him he was developing an ulcer.
"You're joking," Peter blurted. "I'm happier than I've ever been in my entire life. How could I be getting an ulcer now?"
Dr. Matsuyama gave Peter a long, thoughtful look, and at length asked, "Would you mind giving me a synopsis of your personal history, Peter?"
Peter thought about it. "Well, I suppose I've had sort of an eventful life," he said slowly. "My real mom died of cancer when I was in second grade, and my father remarried a few years later. I was one of those kids who are always trying to find their places in life. I kept getting fired from one job after another - a bike shop, the ice-cream place, the pizza parlor, all sorts of stuff. I tried the school paper in ninth grade and got booted off it after my science marks dropped. I spent some time in the Army, but they sent me all over the country and I got homesick. College wasn't anything special . . . it took me two years to settle on a major, and then I couldn't find a job that was related to my degree. I've had dozens of girlfriends and I've been engaged three or four times, but they always ended for one reason or another."
"I see," said Dr. Matsuyama.
"But my life is different now," Peter went on, leaning forward intensely. "I've got a great job, just got a promotion and a raise, my co-workers are super people, and I have the most incredible girlfriend in the world. I'm saving money to buy a house. I'm eating right, I'm close to my family, I get out of the house all the time and exercise a lot - bike riding, swimming, bowling, you know. I don't smoke and I drink in moderation, and I stay away from drugs. I even use sunscreen when I'm supposed to. So why would I get an ulcer only now, when I'm happy, and not in all the years before this?"
"I'm not an expert in matters of the mind," Dr. Matsuyama observed, "but I do have a theory. Given your history, Peter, I'd say you've subconsciously gotten accustomed to trying one thing after another and having it not work out. So as you grew up, you learned to expect failure. Something in your subconscious is having a hard time accepting that everything's going your way now, and it's agonizing over losing it all. It might think that you'll lose your job again, your girlfriend will break up with you, et cetera. It sounds to me as if you've found your niche in life now. You've got a job you really enjoy and that you're good at; you have a girlfriend you're very much in love with; and as you said, you're able to save money for the first time. So what you need to do is convince yourself that nothing will take that away. And you can't do it alone; you need the support of your friends and family. Do you have that?"
Peter opened his mouth to reply and then froze as a thundering realization slammed into him. Could it possibly be that . . . ?? He refocused on the doctor and breathed, "I think I know the underlying cause of all this, doc."
"What would that be?" Dr. Matsuyama prompted.
"My family," Peter said. "Not so much my parents, but my brothers and sisters and their spouses. I mean, we've all been pretty close, but I think they expect me to stumble at everything I try. I've been seeing my girlfriend for about the last six months now, and it took some doing to get her to go out with me. My brothers and sisters knew all about it, and you wouldn't believe how much they heckled me. They cracked jokes, they made smart-alecky remarks, you name it. Even now only one of my sisters really believes I'm going to succeed with my life and my relationship. The rest of them are just waiting for me to take another tumble. And if what you say about this unconscious thing - "
"Subconscious," Dr. Matsuyama corrected gently, stifling a smile.
Peter grinned sheepishly. "Okay, subconscious. Anyway, if that's true, then what it really means is that my brothers and sisters are behind this, uh, subconscious belief that I'm going to fail. They expect me to, and I guess something in me is programmed to live up to their expectations - and maybe my own, by extension - so I go ahead and fail. I've gotta find some way to succeed at what I've got now, so they'll quit expecting me to blow it again."
"Sounds to me like you've got it nailed down," Dr. Matsuyama said. "Good, then you work on your family and keep me informed. In the meantime, your ulcer isn't full-blown, so you should be able to control it with diet. But if it gets any worse, call me right away."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When he told Christina, she stared at him in surprise. "You think your brothers and sisters are to blame for this ulcer you almost have?"
"Well, this is what I told the doctor," Peter said and explained to her the theory he'd given Dr. Matsuyama. "It's not really so bad with Cindy - after all, she helped me when I was trying to get back on your good side." Christina smiled at that. "But the others . . . well, let's just say I'm getting a little tired of being seen as the family black sheep, if I can be called that. I just need to think of some way to convince them that I'm not gonna screw up this time."
"The question is, how?" Christina said. "I can understand, honey, believe me. To this day my brothers and sisters expect me to be the one who sits on the sidelines. It's so bad that whenever I open my mouth at family gatherings, they all stare at me as if the President's just announced that the South seceded again. So don't worry, Peter, I'm behind you one hundred percent."
Peter hugged her. "You're really good for me, sweetheart. You're the best. I just need a little time to think about what I'm going to do."
It took Peter exactly three and a half days to come up with the solution. On his way home from work he stopped for something important. It ended up taking him so long that he didn't get home till almost nine that night and thus missed a phone call from his parents. Mike's voice on the answering machine said humorously, "Guess what, Pete - it's another mass gathering of Bradys. Apparently there are several announcements being made here. One's from Greg and Nora, another one from Scott and Cindy, and Bobby and Tracy have some news too, it seems. Your mother figured we might as well get them all done at the same time, so we're having a big barbecue over here on Saturday afternoon. Don't forget to bring Christina."
"Perfect," Peter said aloud, resetting the machine. "This fits right in with my plan. I'm going to knock this family on its collective ear."
He punched out his parents' number on the phone, and when Carol picked up, he said, "Hi, Mom, it's Peter. I just got Dad's message about the cookout. Should we bring anything?"
"Now that you mention it," Carol said, "I think it would be a great idea to do a potluck. It would save your father and me plenty of time and money on the food. But Peter, I didn't know you could cook. Or is Christina going to do it?"
"I'm just full of surprises," Peter told her smugly. "When I was in the Army, I learned how to make tuna salad and peanut-butter-oatmeal cookies. So I can bring those, and Christina can bring her specialty, which is homemade chocolate-cheesecake ice cream."
"Oh my goodness," Carol said, "sounds rich. By all means, have her bring it. And we'll all look forward to your cookies and tuna salad." Carol paused for a moment. "Peter . . . did you say peanut butter and oatmeal?"
"Sure did," Peter said and laughed. "And believe it or not, Mom, they're really good. You'll see when we get there. What time do you plan on having us all there?"
"Let's say two," said Carol, "so we'll all have a chance to cook whatever needs cooking and eat without rushing. Especially Jan and Phillip, with a pair of one-year-olds in tow. All right?"
"Great, Mom, see you then," Peter agreed and hung up. Only then did he allow himself to grin widely. If his plan worked, he was going to truly savor his family's expressions. Maybe he should bring a camera and take pictures.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Peter and Christina arrived right at the stroke of two on Saturday afternoon. Peter carried two large covered plastic containers, and Christina bore another similar container. The place was already packed; not only were Mike's and Carol's cars in the driveway, but so were Jan and Phillip's minivan and Wally and Marcia's station wagon. Greg and Nora's car was parked at the curb, and behind that was Scott and Cindy's jeep. Peter pulled in behind that and remarked, "Looks like everyone's here except Bobby and Tracy."
"I can't wait to hear what all the news is," Christina remarked, handing Peter his containers of tuna salad and cookies. "I tried to get Scott to tell me his and Cindy's news in advance, but he wouldn't say a word. And he wouldn't even let me talk to Cindy."
"She probably wouldn't have told either," Peter said with a chuckle. "And if you'd known Cindy as a kid, you wouldn't have believed it. Back then she couldn't keep a secret if someone told her to keep it or die by slow torture. I guess my kid sister grew up."
Peter was right; the entire Brady conglomeration was crammed into the backyard, and the grill was already heating up. They'd just finished greeting everyone when Bobby and Tracy arrived - and Bobby was walking without his cane!
Everyone noticed just about simultaneously, and there was a hush so sudden and complete that it was almost funny. Then shouts and cheers exploded into the warm late-summer afternoon, and the whole family crowded around Bobby. Carol was in tears, and even Mike's eyes looked suspiciously shiny. Eventually the worst of the excitement died down, and the family gave Bobby and Tracy enough room to find lawn chairs and sit down with all the rest of them. "How long have you been going without the cane?" Greg asked.
"About a week or so now," Bobby answered, basking in his family's joy. "I actually started trying it about a month ago, and I've been increasing my unassisted walking time every day. The doc thinks that by Halloween I can get rid of it for good."
"He's really been gung ho," Tracy remarked proudly, squeezing Bobby's hand. "I practically had to stop him from carrying me across the yard when we got here."
Everyone laughed; then Marcia asked, "So is that your news?" She beat Peter to the punch; he'd been thinking the same thing.
"Part of it," Tracy said. "You'll hear the rest later when all the announcements are being made."
"Oh, come on, Aunt Tracy," Jessica Logan pleaded, "can't you tell us now?"
"Yeah, we can't wait that long," Patty Covington put in.
Tracy grinned at them. "Sorry, girls, it's top secret till later. And nothing in the world is gonna change my mind, so don't even try it. Otherwise I'll tell your mothers on you both."
"Tracy's so good with kids," Christina said wistfully, watching Peter's nieces giggling with Tracy.
"Yeah, she's a nut," said Peter. "Not as bad as Wally. Tracy's a nut in a good way." He glanced at Christina and grinned at her look askance. "Well, Wally isn't a bad sort of nut. He just has a way of bumbling around and putting his foot in his mouth. He's not the most tactful guy I ever met, but he loves his family and tries to do right by them. And he's crazy about Marcia, so I guess that makes him all right, at least in my book."
"I just wish I felt as easy around kids," Christina said. "I even took awhile to get used to my nieces and nephews. It's as if kids know I don't know what to say to them, and they avoid me."
"Let's see if I can fix that," Peter said and crossed the yard to where Phillip was standing, chatting with Mike and Greg at the grill, and Marcia, Jan, Cindy and Nora were filling trays with tall glasses of lemonade. "Hey, Jan, can I borrow one of the twins?"
"Go right ahead," said Jan. "You know how they love attention. Besides, it'll get them out of my hair for awhile. I'll never finish putting together my Caesar salad this way." Both Deborah and Melissa were clinging to their mother, each twin clutching an ankle. Peter leaned around Cindy and plucked Deborah off Jan's left ankle, lifting the surprised child high into the air and spinning around on one foot. Deborah laughed, and Peter whisked her off to where Christina sat.
"This is Jan's daughter," Peter introduced her, "Deborah Covington. Debby, this is Christina. She's a real nice lady, and she'll play with you till your mommy gets done making salad."
"Hi, Debby," Christina said, eyes widening with enchantment. "What a cutie you are!" She took Deborah onto her lap and began to bounce gently. It was an old trick, but timeless; Christina had never known a baby or toddler who didn't love to be bounced. Deborah fell right into it, giggling and squealing in delight.
Jan, looking harried, appeared then with Melissa. "Since you've saddled poor Christina with one of these mini-tornadoes, you get to take charge of the other one, Pete. All I ask is a half hour."
"They must really keep you on your toes," Christina said quizzically.
"Oh, they do," Jan assured her, smiling. "But Patty's a big help with them, and I wouldn't trade my girls for anything on earth." She glanced between the twins for a moment, her smile lingering, then seemed to come back to earth. "Well, I better get to that salad while I can."
They kept the twins entertained, now and then fielding comments from other family members and occasionally getting some help from the older Brady grandchildren, until nearly four o'clock when Mike finally issued the call to dinner. Wally and Marcia, Greg and Nora, and Phillip and Jan had brought along patio tables to supplement Mike and Carol's, and Scott and Cindy had brought a card table for the kids. Jan brought out the twins' playpen and set it near the older children's table, giving each girl sliced bananas and apples in bowls. Everyone else grabbed plates and plastic utensils and made a circuit through the kitchen, where all the food had been set out buffet-style.
Mike waited till most of them had had their fill before getting to his feet and calling for everyone's attention. "Well, folks," he began, "this supper was delicious . . . "
Mickey Logan released a loud, long burp. "Sure was," he said.
Amid the poorly stifled laughter, Marcia said sternly, "You know what you're supposed to say, Michael Walter Logan, don't you? Let's hear it."
"Excuse me," Mickey said, somewhat grudgingly.
"Pig," said Jessica, turning up her nose.
Marcia shushed them while the chuckles gradually subsided. When quiet reigned again, Mike went on. "Thanks, all, for contributing. I hear Peter's brought peanut-butter and oatmeal cookies, so that gives us something new to look forward to. But first . . . some of you have told Carol and me that you have some announcements to make, so why don't we start with you, Greg and Nora."
He sat down and Greg and Nora stood up. "Well, Kevin already knows about this," Greg said, "and he hasn't quite decided how he feels about it yet. We were hoping for a warmer reception from the rest of the family." He grinned. "Nora's three months pregnant."
Surprised exclamations rang out, along with applause. Greg and Nora sat again, and someone asked if they wanted a boy or a girl. Kevin's voice rang out: "If I gotta put up with a baby in the house, it better be a boy." Everyone laughed.
"I guess we're next," Bobby said and stood up, then tugged on Tracy's arm to make her get up as well. "You've already seen one part of our news. The other part is . . . well, Tracy's expecting too, and she's almost two months along. So we're finally starting a family. Your turn now, Cindy," he hinted at his sister, who rolled her eyes at him.
"Surprise," Cindy said and stood up, addressing the family as a whole but staring right at Bobby as she said it. "I'm also three months pregnant!" She grinned and sat down again as the family erupted into babbling.
"My word," Carol finally said, loudly enough for most of them to hear. "Three new grandchildren coming along all at once. I don't know if I can take it."
Peter decided, in the midst of the confusion, that now was the right time. The butterflies in his stomach had been growing into ever-bigger mutations, so that he figured now there were about twenty pterodactyls in there. They weren't going to get any smaller, so he might as well say his piece. He stood up, drawing everyone's attention.
"If you say there's a baby coming . . . " Carol began.
Peter grinned. "No, Mom, nothing like that. I thought I'd provide a little variety, since I have an announcement of my own to make." He turned to Christina and added, "Mine's in the form of a question. Christina Jensen, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
Christina looked as if someone had dropped a sledgehammer on her foot, but only for a moment, while Peter's abdominal pterodactyls struggled to morph into helicopters. And then she leaped out of her chair, overturning it, and cried, "Yes!!"
"YAHOO!" Peter shouted, and that touched off a round of loud cheering and applause for him. If this didn't cure his ulcer and get his family to realize how serious he was about this woman, then nothing would. Christina fairly threw herself onto him and wrapped her arms around him; Peter hugged her back, thrilled at his good fortune.
"The last holdout's finally gonna tie the knot, huh?" cackled Wally gleefully. "This calls for a celebration. Mike, you happen to have any champagne?"
And so all the adults had champagne and peanut-butter-oatmeal cookies to top off the meal, plus a small bowl of Christina's chocolate-cheesecake ice cream. Peter presented Christina with a small diamond ring - the item he'd gone to buy after work the night Mike had called about the cookout - after which everyone drank a toast.
It was when the Brady siblings and their spouses and kids began preparing to go home that it happened. "Don't you think all your former girlfriends are gonna be jealous?" Bobby asked Peter, passing by with a shopping bag full of Tupperware in which Tracy had brought potato salad.
"Who cares if they are?" asked Peter, frowning. "They'll just have to live with it."
"You just better hope they don't show up and stop the wedding," Bobby said and grinned. "See ya later, Pete."
Since Christina was in the kitchen helping Carol clean up in spite of Carol's protests, Peter might have gone after his brother to pound on him, except that he overheard his own name and paused to reply. Just in time he stopped himself, because the word had been part of a conversation. "I hope this one sticks. Peter's been engaged before and it's never worked out." The voice was Jan's.
Peter could see that Phillip and Jan were about fifteen feet away in the gathering darkness, collapsing the twins' playpen and chatting softly. "Well, third time's the charm, isn't that what they say?" inquired Phillip mildly.
"This is the fourth time," Jan informed him.
"Come on, Jan," Phillip said. "I really believe Peter's serious about it this time. Look what he went through to win that girl over. Why would he back out now?"
"He was serious about Valerie too," Jan said. "He was all excited about getting married to her and then broke up with her because she made more money than he did." Peter had an overwhelming urge to correct her: he'd broken up with Valerie because, in the end, Valerie had proven to be more interested in her career than in him. But Jan spoke again, keeping him quiet. "Peter's really pretty insecure when it comes to women. It always seems like every time he gets really close to one, something turns out to be wrong and he backs off. What's going to make this any different?"
Peter turned away and started for his car, shaking his head to himself. 'Nothing ever changes,' he thought morosely. 'The happiest day of my life and they have to go and spoil it.'
He didn't get a chance to brood any further because Mickey's voice carried through the summer evening. "Hey, Dad, am I gonna have to get dressed up for Uncle Peter's wedding?"
"If Uncle Peter has any sense, he won't invite you," came Jessica's disgusted reply. "Not after the complete lack of table manners you displayed this afternoon. You're too disgusting to invite anywhere, Mickey."
"That's enough, you two," Marcia's weary voice said. 'She must say that a hundred times a day,' Peter reflected to himself.
Then Wally said, "Don't get too excited yet, Mickey. First we've gotta wait and see if there really will be a wedding, and then we'll worry about you getting dressed up for it."
Peter cursed softly to himself. He'd really thought this was going to do it; he'd even given Christina a ring, and that should have proven just how committed he was. Yet no one's opinion had changed at all! What was he going to do now?
