Through Another's Eyes
Andrea Steadman was a kind, caring woman and, though her children would sometimes refute it, a wonderful mother. This was why, when her youngest daughter, Teresa, invited the new boy home for dinner without any warning, she was able to produce enough food and set another place at the table without even a hint of being flustered by the arrangement. She welcomed him graciously into her home; a quiet boy, though he could no doubt be as mischievous as any other boy his age. He was very polite and thanked her and apologised for the late notice, even though Andrea was sure she had not shown that she'd minded at all. His clothes were mostly ripped and otherwise battered, and almost certainly a few sizes too big for him, though these days it was hard to tell if that was out of necessity or a stylistic choice.
He'd then followed her daughter off upstairs to play. If there was one thing her daughter was, it was friendly, and it certainly wasn't the first time she'd brought home one of the more lonely member of her class.
By the time dinner was called, Andrea had learnt that his name was Sam, though she hadn't caught his surname. He piled the food on his plate like he hadn't eaten in days, though it was clear from his physique that he had. Sam certainly hadn't lost his puppy fat yet.
He didn't say much while eating. Andrea made a note to possibly ask his parents how they taught him to not speak with his mouth full, because no matter how many times she told her son that, he would still do it.
"How was school today?" she asked. Her son, Mark, grunted and shrugged – the typical reply to any question asked of him. Her eldest daughter, Laura, launched into a tirade against Mr Jones the physics teacher and how he makes each lesson more boring than last, even when that doesn't seem possible. Teresa, though, looked towards Sam with shining eyes.
"Sam saved me today!" she said, Andrea looked at Sam, who smiled sheepishly. Laura was also watching him with polite interest while Mark feigned complete disinterest, though he did glance up.
"Really?" Andrea prompted.
"Yeah! There was this huuge dog on the way home and it was all growling and baring its teeth but then Sam jumped in front of me and chased it off all fierce and stuff and I probably would have died if he wasn't there!" Andrea smiled and looked to Sam again, who was positively squirming in his seat.
"Is this true, Sam? Do I owe you my daughter's life?"
"The dog wasn't that big and I only hit it on the nose with my book," Andrea laughed; it was very like Teresa to exaggerate things like that.
"Well, thank you for returning her to me safely, all the same." There was silence again while everyone went back to eating and took what second helpings they wanted. Sam piled his plate high again, which caused Andrea to raise her eyebrows. "Don't they feed you at home?" she asked jokingly. Sam swallowed his mouthful before replying.
"Oh yes, but Dean doesn't cook as good as this," Andrea smiled at the compliment, glad that someone appreciated her cooking. She glanced towards Mark, who only ever picked at his food.
"So, Sam, what does your mommy and daddy do?" Sam quickly finished what was left of his lasagne before replying.
"My mom's dead," Andrea's insides froze. 'Stupid woman!' she berated herself, trust her to bring up something like that! "And my dad does odd jobs, whatever gets the most money," perhaps the rough clothing wasn't a fashion statement, "Or he goes hunting,"
"Hunting? That's a strange pastime," taking into consideration how little money they seemed to have it was strange, anyway. The very briefest look of panic flashed across Sam's face that Andrea would have missed had she not had to deal with fibbing children for almost her entire mothering life.
"He just needs to relax sometimes," Sam said with a shrug. Andrea decided not to push the subject; she knew all sorts of things her husband did to wind down. Teresa, on the other hand, was far too interested to let it drop.
"Ooh! Hunting?" she squealed, "Does your daddy take you with him?"
"No," said Sam, smiling. He looked a little more comfortable talking to another child, "I stay at home with my big brother, Dean,"
"Eww! You brother looks after you? That must be horrible!"
"Shut it, squirt," retorted Mark.
"Watch it, you two," warned Andrea before any more words could be exchanged.
"No, I like it. Dean lets me do stuff dad wouldn't ever let me do,"
"Oh yeah! Like the time Laura let me-"
"Teresa!" said Laura desperately and Teresa slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide when she realised whatever it was she was about to reveal.
"What did Laura let you?" Andrea asked, Sam giggled. It was quite an amusing situation, especially looking at Teresa's face, exaggerated as always.
"Umm, she let me... she let me..." the expression of panic that had so briefly flitted across Sam's face was now plastered on Teresa's, "She let me wear her make-up and jewellery!"
"Really?" Andrea wasn't buying a word of that excuse and she made that much plain with her tone, but she would follow this line of inquiry at a later date, when they didn't have guests.
"What's for dessert, mom?" asked Laura.
"Pavlova," Andrea accepted her daughter's choice of subject change and Laura visibly relaxed.
"Dessert?" said Sam, "I didn't realise we were having dessert!"
"You didn't fill yourself up too much, did you?"
"No! I'll manage more!" Andrea and Laura cleared away the plates. Mark stalked off upstairs to sit in his bedroom, claiming he wasn't hungry. Andrea hoped like never before that he'd grow out of this phase soon, it was really very annoying.
When Andrea came back into the dining room bearing a reasonably sized pavlova adorned with strawberries, Sam's eyes bugged and his mouth dropped open. That was, until Teresa laughed at his face and he realised quite how ridiculous he looked. Andrea wondered how old he'd been when his mother had died and how she'd died and whether he could remember her or not. In that moment she felt a rush of gratitude to whatever higher powers there were that they had seen fit to keep her alive to watch over her children. It wasn't natural for 12-year-old boys to be so amazed by a simple pavlova.
Sam took a slightly smaller portion for dessert but still tucked into it with gusto. He finished before anyone else and sat back, hands on stomach and groaning slightly, but there was also a large grin on his face. He waited like that until everyone else had finished theirs and Teresa was able to talk without spraying meringue everywhere. She then started rattling on about Sam: Eating Extraordinaire! Able to eat twice his weight in food and quicker than anyone else could manage it. This set the two of them giggling while Andrea cleared the table and Laura went upstairs to her bedroom to do whatever it was she did in there.
Andrea left Sam and Teresa playing at the table and sat in the living room reading the paper until there was a knock at the door. She put the paper down and checked her watch, seven-thirty, that was odd, Sam was supposed to be staying for another hour and her husband wasn't due back for another three.
Andrea opened the door to find a teen standing there with the most winning grin on his face. He was wearing an old leather jacket and jeans, though the roughness around his clothes struck Andrea as somehow more meant that Sam's.
"Hi, is Sammy in there?" Sam came rushing in at the sound of his name. He glanced at the clock, obviously wondering why this boy, who could only be his brother, was at the door.
"Dean! What are you doing here already?"
"Oh, thanks, you really know how to me feel loved, you know that?" but there wasn't a trace of hurt feelings in his voice, then he turned more serious, "Dad called, he wants us both back in the house," he shot a look at Sam that obviously meant something, but Andrea couldn't for the life of her work what it was.
"I've left some stuff upstairs, let me go get it," Dean nodded his approval so Sam and Teresa rushed upstairs. Dean smiled at Andrea and scuffed his toe on the porch.
"Hope he wasn't too much trouble,"
"No, no," said Andrea, "He's a very nice boy. He's welcome here whenever he wants," Dean laughed and stuck his hands in his jacket pockets.
"You wouldn't say that if you lived with him," he flapped his hands, which opened his jacket slightly and Andrea caught a glimpse of something she'd rather not have. She didn't want to say anything but what she'd seen had worried her and it plainly showed on her face because Dean was looking at her questioningly.
"Do you have a... a gun in your jacket pocket?" Dean opened his jacket and yes, there it was – a gun. He pulled it out.
"Oh, it's not a real one. I carry it around to scare anyone off, you know, in case I'm attacked. You'd have a hard time harming a fly with this thing,"
"You're not that likely to be attacked around here," yes, it was dark, but not even the alleyways of this neighbourhood harboured anything more dangerous than a cat.
"Better to be safe than sorry!" said Dean, putting the gun, fake gun, back in his pocket. The two of them stood in silence at the door for a little while longer before Dean became restless, looking up the stairs.
"Sammy, get your ass down here!" yelled Dean. Andrea stared at him, shocked. It was only then that Dean realised that most people didn't yell things like that when standing in someone else's front door.
"God! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout that, it just slipped out," Andrea smiled and shook her head.
"No, it's fine, I think your brother's the youngest one in this house, anyway," and he certainly hadn't said anything Teresa hadn't already heard from an older sibling's mouth.
"Coming!" Sam called back and he appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later carrying his school things and coat.
"Did you have a good time?" Dean asked as Sam reached the door. Sam nodded vigourously and turned to face Andrea just as he crossed the threshold of the doorway.
"Thank you for having me, Mrs. Steadman!" Andrea smiled down at him.
"It was my pleasure, Sam,"
"Bye, Sam! See you at school!" Teresa called from behind her mother, waving wildly. Sam waved back but was being firmly steered away by his brother's hand on his shoulder. Andrea shut the door and Teresa went into the living room to watch TV.
Andrea really did want Sam to visit again. He had a slightly odd family, but what family didn't have their own little quirks? She hoped she could meet the father because she was every bit as friendly as her daughter and also to perhaps wheedle out of him and few tips on getting his children to obey him. She hoped she could find out a little more about the family's history, if only to satisfy her curiosity and perhaps persuade Dean that a fake gun wasn't required. She hoped that Teresa would get to know Sam better and that they could become good friends, they were certainly well on their way already. All these things she hoped.
Next week they had moved and Andrea never heard of them again.
FIN
Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed!
