Chapter 23: Norman Osborn
"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me,
'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.'"
-Fred Rogers
Peter watched Mary Jane closely, acutely aware of her every movement. She was different. Something had changed about her and even as he stared past Harry at the red-haired vixen standing beside Gwen, he felt his spidey-sense dully pulsing at the base of his skull, a response he knew to attribute to impending danger.
What is different about her? Why do I keep feeling like Shriek is about to pop out of the birthday cake? Peter's eyes narrowed as his concerns mounted.
"Peter-"
She shouldn't be here. She needs to get out of here and back to California. She can't be here! She did not walk - rather, she floated through the crowd, hips swaying to a primordial rhythm. Every so often, she threw her head back, exposing the delicate flesh of her neck as her crimson lips parted in laughter.
"Pete?"
Who is this woman? She wowed the crowds and in a matter of minutes, even had Captain Stacy laughing along with her - a man Peter thought incapable of laughter. She looped her arm through Gwen's then glanced side-long, peering at Peter from beneath her thick lashes. The corners of her painted mouth turned up ever so slightly as if to say, "I know all of your lies and secrets, Peter. I can see right through you."
"YO! Space cadet?!" Harry hit Peter's shoulder hard, jarring him back to reality. Mary Jane stared for a long minute then turned her head again, releasing Peter from her grip.
"Sorry, Harry." Peter turned to his friend, offering him a small smile.
"I don't blame you, man." The corner of Harry's mouth hooked upwards into a cheeky smirk. "She's something else, isn't she?"
Peter knew exactly who he was referring to. "Yeah, somethin' else." He began to feel feverish again as beads of sweat formed on his brow. "Do you sense something different about her?"
Harry turned to look at her. After a moment, he turned to face Peter again. "Sure, yeah," He shrugged, nodding his head in smug approval, "It's the ass, right? She's been working out a lot more. I got her this awesome trainer-"
Harry continued to ramble but his words fell on deaf ears. Peter's thoughts were elsewhere.
After the sun had set and the drinks had run dry, the party guests began to slowly trickle out the front door. In the end, it was only Gwen, Mary Jane, Peter and Harry. They sat in Gwen's parent's living room; Peter and Gwen nestled in the corner of the sofa, Gwen's head resting on Peter's strong shoulder while Harry sat in a dining room chair he had pulled into the living room and Mary Jane sat cross-legged in a tall, straight-backed loveseat.
"So, where to next?" Harry smiled at each of their faces, a devilish glint in his eyes, "Bar-hopping on the East side?"
"Actually," Peter smiled, "We were just going to head back to our apartment and order Chinese food."
"Chinese food?" Harry had to clear his throat to stem the guttural chuckle that threatened to spill forth. "But it's Gwen's birthday!"
Gwen spoke up, lifting her head from Peter's shoulder. "Oh, but I love Chinese food! Koi's has the best egg rolls."
Harry opened his mouth to say something more when Mary Jane's sultry voice cut him off, "I think that's a darling idea, Gwendy." Absent-mindedly, she glanced at her fingernails. "It's a shame we don't stay in more often." Again, Harry began to speak but her quick, sharp glance in his direction forced his mouth shut for the second time, effectively nipping in the bud any offensive words Harry might have spoken.
"Well then," Harry stood from his seat, "I guess now is as good a time as any for you to meet my dad."
Mary Jane's eyes widened until the whites of her eyes could be clearly seen around her green irises. Gwen and Peter looked on, an amused smirk slowly forming upon Peter's face. "Uh - what?" Mary Jane's sultry tone had vanished and in its place, the small, fearful voice Peter had remembered from so long ago.
"Yeah, I told him we were coming into town. He's excited to finally meet you."
Peter watched as the actress took over - the look of terror melting away into a placid mask.
"Oh, but Harry, it's so late already." Her lips pouted as she spoke, "I can't wait to meet your dad... but, how about tomorrow instead?"
"No, no," Peter spoke up, hardly able to keep the laughter from bubbling through his words. "I think that's a great idea, guys! Norman is going to love you, MJ. He'll be ecstatic to meet the future Mrs. Osborn." The color from Mary Jane's face paled to an ashen white. She kept her body very still but Peter could see the revulsion twitching at the corners of her mouth. Peter chuckled, thinking it all in good fun. Last time Peter had seen Norman, a little over a week ago, he had seemed completely normal with little sign of the dark streak that had plagued him before. He never would have sent Mary Jane into the lion's den unless he knew, or thought he knew, that Norman was harmless.
Sensing her best friend's discomfort, Gwen elbowed Peter hard in the ribs. As MJ stared up into Harry's resolute face, she realized he wasn't going to budge.
"Okay." She sighed and stood from the loveseat, brushing the creases from her dress. "Let's go meet the infamous Stormin' Norman."
So dedicated to his work, Norman Osborn's primary residence was located high above Oscorp's labs at the very top of Oscorp Towers, two tall towers that loomed over the east side of New York City. I was deathly quiet on the drive there, allowing Harry's excited babble to fill the silence. I peered out of the car window and when the ominous towers peeked high above the tops of the distant skyscrapers, my heart sank.
Meeting your significant other's parent(s) was too serious. Too committed. I squirmed in my seat. There was too much pressure and I felt it squeezing my rib cage, threatening to crush my lungs.
'Grace Kelly. Marilyn Monroe.' Inside my head, I repeated the names of my favorite actresses as a calming mantra. 'Audrey Hepburn. Elizabeth Taylor. Brigitte Bardot. Grace Kelly. Marilyn Monroe. Audrey Hepburn. Elizabeth Taylor. Brigitte Bardot.'
Their beautiful faces passed behind my closed eyelids, slowly at first then faster as my mantra sped up with my mounting anxiety.
"We're here." Harry's voice cut my mantra short. I kept my eyes shut for a moment longer.
"Marilyn Monroe." I said aloud then opened my eyes to look into Harry's puzzled face.
"What about Marilyn Monroe?"
I shook my head, waving my hand in the air to brush off the question. "Nothing." I had decided to become Marilyn Monroe; demure, sweet, charming and utterly unassuming. Marilyn Monroe's apparent lack of intelligence would serve well in the presence of Norman Osborn, a man known for his extreme pride. I would wear Marilyn on my sleeve like armor, disguising my true personality and thus, protecting myself from his critical eye.
"You know, I used to think you were in love with her."
Chinese food suddenly lodged in Peter's throat and he began to cough hoarsely. After a moment, he swallowed hard and was able to clear his throat.
"Who?" He peered at Gwen from across the table. She smiled back at him, a reassuring smile that let him know her words meant no harm.
"You know who." She shrugged her shoulders, a sheepish look passing briefly across her face before she bit into her egg roll. "Man, these are really good!" She examined the egg roll she had just bitten into, looking for the magic dust that had made her taste buds dance.
"No, actually I don't. I've only ever been in love with one person and I'm lookin' at her."
Gwen took another bite of the egg roll then smiled. "MJ." Peter's face went pale. He stuttered, unable to formulate his words. As always, Gwen came to his rescue. "It's okay. I know you aren't... but for a while, I thought you were. I figured that's why you were taking so long to ask me out. I mean, can you blame me? MJ is every guy's dream. She's beautiful, driven, witty-"
"She's immature, Gwen." Peter's voice was resolute, borderline harsh. This conversation made him uncomfortable and he wanted to end it as soon as he could. "She puts up a front with everyone she meets, except for maybe you."
"She's been through a lot, Pete." Gwen put the egg roll down and stared at him from across the table. No smiles. "She never talks about it but I used to see it in her face sometimes. She wears a mask because she wants to be brave."
'Sounds like Spider-Man.' Like a jigsaw puzzle finally being pieced together, the truth dawned on him: while he wasn't in love with Mary Jane, Spider-Man had been in love with her. Gwen knew him better than he knew himself... and although she wasn't aware of his alter ego, she had sensed something in Peter while Spider-Man was still in commission. His realization caused him to shift in his chair uncomfortably.
"Even if you had ended up with her, I wouldn't have been upset with either of you." She shrugged her shoulders, laughing under her breath. "Isn't that strange? But maybe it isn't. I just want her to be happy and I know she isn't. I had so hoped Harry and California would make her happy-" Tears had begun to form in her eyes. "But she's still being someone else; she's still hiding behind that stupid mask." She paused to wipe away a stream of tears from her cheeks. "Today at the party - didn't you see it?" The tears were falling freely from her eyes. Peter stood from his chair and walked around the table to gently pull her up from her chair and wrap her trembling body in his arms.
"I just want her to be happy, Peter," She cried into his chest and Peter could feel her warm tears soaking through his shirt. "But I don't know how to do that."
"Look at me," He pulled away from her. "You can't save everyone, Gwen. MJ has to save herself."
Oh, the irony.
Norman's home was impressive in the way that museums are impressive; dark cherry wood walls, ancient artifacts on marble pedestals, dim lighting, dusty Victorian sofas. Harry was surprised to see his childhood home in such dismal condition.
"Man," Harry drew his fingers across a granite table beside the front door. His fingers left deep trenches in the layer of dust nestled on top of the granite. "It looks like the maids have been slacking."
I turned from him and looked towards the main part of the home. It appeared that everything had been overlooked by the maids for quite some time.
"Dad?" Harry's voice bounced off the marble floors and echoed throughout the halls. He crossed into the living room and I followed. I noticed tall mounds of ashes in the grand fireplace, muddy footprints caked onto the glossy floor, and old food on dirty plates strewn throughout the home. Harry continued to call his father's name, worry beginning to speed up his pace as he travelled from room to room. Finally, a muffled voice called out in reply, "Harry? Is that you?"
"Dad! It's me and MJ." Harry called out, unsure of where he should direct his voice. From somewhere deep within the home, I heard the sound of something large scraping against the floor and then the muffled sound of something being shut and locked. After a moment of silence, Norman's footsteps echoed throughout the home and I felt my heartbeat pounding against my ribcage with each step. I wanted to run for the door and it took every fiber of my being to keep myself still.
"Harry, my boy!" Tall and spindly, Norman Osborn emerged from the opposite end of the home, arms outstretched. Harry walked to him and the two embraced. He seemed so normal and for a moment, I felt myself relaxing as I watched them.
"Dad," Harry pulled away from him then took his hand and pulled him over to where I stood. "I want you to meet the talented and beautiful Mary Jane Watson."
He said nothing, simply looked me over like a buyer at the butcher shop. His glance lingered upon my breasts for a moment too long to be considered an accident and when he finally spoke, he seemed disgusted. "So, this is the woman who stole my son's heart? Pleased to finally meet you, Ms. Watson."
There was no changing his mind. Norman Osborn hated me. In our hotel room, Harry would later try to tell me that his father was like that with every woman but I wasn't some stupid fool. I heard the way he spoke about Gwen Stacy; the way he deliberately brought her up in conversation every chance he got - "I understand that you're acquaintances with Gwendolyn Stacy? Now, there's a woman!" or "Ms. Stacy is our most promising scientist." or "Harry, your friend Peter is a wise man for snagging Ms. Stacy."
Ms. Stacy this. Ms. Stacy that.
Gwen deserved every bit of credit for her hard work at Oscorp but the way Norman spoke about her - not what he said about her but how he said it - disturbed me. The lust I heard in his voice... the way his hands trembled when he said her name...
Norman Osborn violated Gwen by simply saying her name. Sitting at the dining room table, listening to him rape her name with the tone of his voice, the trembling of his hands, I wanted to defend her but how could I?
To Harry, his father was simply speaking our friend's praises.
But to me, I sensed the danger beneath his praises.
Author's Note: Sorry it took me longer than normal to update. I've been trying really hard to get the plot just right. Stay tuned for next week's installment. There's going to be a lot of twists and turns and I promise it's going to be a doozy. ;)