Not another word was uttered in the supermarket between the Curtises. Pleasantries to the cashier, who was none the wiser about the family drama that had unfolded in the middle of his shift, were about it. In the silence, Darry prayed his wife would forget the entire altercation. A silly little hiccup, an odd run-in with a couple local hoods. Everything had been going just fine thus far. All he wanted was to settle in before drama reared its ugly head. They hadn't even made it twenty-four hours. He knew damn good and well no matter how hard he hoped and prayed, she was going to give him a piece of her mind.
Tillie opted for sooner rather than later, "Darrel," The engine hadn't even turned over yet. Her tone was calm and even, but he knew exactly what that meant. There was so much to unpack here, so many things she wanted to say she wasn't sure where to start. "Do you think that was appropriate?"
Silence was his default. He'd rather take a verbal lashing and move on than talk it out. Tillie didn't go for that; she was a talk-it-out and find-a-resolution type. When she put on her teacher voice, as she just had, he knew he was in a world of trouble. "I don't know what you want me to say," He grumbled.
The audacity of this man. How, Tillie wondered, did he not see that not saying anything was the entire issue here. She didn't have to say anything else. He could feel her eyes boring holes into him as she sat there, gobsmacked he couldn't see the issue at hand. "I can't control what my brother does," He was grasping at straws. Trying to deflect blame as if his lack of communication wasn't the reason for this mess. "Besides, he was the one who insulted me,"
Darry made the mistake of looking over at Tillie when he said this, and the incredulous look on her face was so much worse than he'd thought. "He had every right to," Rarely did Tillie defend actions like that. But there wasn't a way she could rationalize in her head where Soda was the one in the wrong. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. Deep down, he knew she was right. He deserved a lot more than being called a coward. "You acted like he was a stranger."
"He didn't even give me a chance to speak," He braced himself for her to call bullshit. The few moments of stunned silence felt like a lifetime; there had been plenty of opportunity. If they could rewind and go back he'd have the same reaction.
"You didn't even try to say a word," She countered. It was becoming apparent that stubbornness ran in the family.
"Don't matter he was lookin' for a fight," The justification sounded weak, even to him. Darry was standing firm that he wasn't in the wrong.
"And why's that?" The question earned a huff from her husband. Before they left California, he assured her he'd reached out and let his family know he was coming home. Today proved he most certainly hadn't. "Darrel," Her voice was a bit softer now, "You left and came back without so much as a word. I think you owe him an apology."
"I'm not going to apologize for thinking of my future," His brows furrowed. "That doesn't make me a coward."
Hot tears burned Soda's eyes, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to let them spill over. Animosity boiled inside of him, and his frustration manifested in these stupid tears. A trait he'd gotten from his mother. While it didn't happen often, she was an angry crier. Which, in turn, only irritated her even more.
A cigarette calmed his nerves a bit and the second one a bit more. Had they not rounded the corner to his street Soda probably would have lit up a third. Steve searched for the words to comfort his friend, but there wasn't much to be said. 'Sorry, your brother is such a jackass' while true felt like it would only stir the pot. Steve could empathize with those feelings of abandonment. Even though he was really young when his mom ditched, and he'd come to terms with it, he couldn't imagine what it would feel like if she showed back up out of the blue. Steve knew he wouldn't have shown as much grace as Soda did.
The car was barely stopped when Soda jumped out and stormed through the front door. The force with which he slammed the car door shut felt like it could knock it straight off the hinges. Two-Bit held his breath, hoping that wasn't the case. It wouldn't be the first thing that had fallen off this old car.
Truthfully, Soda just wanted to be alone. Take some time to process all of this, and regain his bearings. That was easier said than done. Pony was cozied up on the sofa with his new girlfriend, Darla, comparing their class schedules. Eagerly they checked to see if they shared any classes (it was no surprise they didn't. Pony was always in advanced classes, but she'd been so hopeful and excited to check). Mapping out how close their classes were, which ones they could walk to together, and where they'd meet for lunch to maximize their time together during the school day. On a normal day, Soda would give his little brother grief, but he just wasn't in the mood.
The youngest Curtis had been awaiting their return, though he was less than enthused seeing the look on Soda's face. "Don't tell me you're in on it now too," Pony almost whined. It wasn't until he really took in his older brother's appearance that he grasped the gravity of the situation. As much as he'd hoped this was one big gag, Soda's face assured him it wasn't.
"Ain't a joke," Soda croaked out, doing his best to shove everything back down inside. He wasn't very good at hiding his feelings; he'd always worn his heart on his sleeve. He cleared his throat before continuing, "Darry's back got a wife now too. Startin' their own little family."
"What?!" Pony jolted forward, nearly flying off the couch. He probably would have hit the ceiling if Darla hadn't all but been on his lap. She scooted over awkwardly with a small 'Hmph' "He got married?" The resentment in his tone rose with each word.
"Yup," Soda said, sounding defeated. Aunt Birdie, who had been doing dishes in the kitchen, peaked around the corner to listen in.
Steve and Two-Bit had made their way inside. While Steve was unsure how to navigate this awkward family drama, Two-Bit had no issue chirping in. "A real looker, too. Seemed like a sweetheart."
"Shut up," Steve elbowed Two-Bit, who jerked his arm away. "You talked to her for two minutes."
"Still seemed friendly enough," Two-Bit grumbled in response, shoving his hands in his pockets where he was met with his souvenir of the afternoon. "Hey, Aunt B," He called; reluctantly she turned her attention away from her nephews. "Didn't you need a tomato for dinner?"
He offered his prize to Aunt Birdie, who looked suspicious. She did, in fact, need one for dinner but knew she hadn't mentioned it. "Thank you, Keith," While appreciative, she knew better than to question how it came about. Some things were better left unsaid. Besides, he looked so proud of himself.
The small distraction allowed Soda to slip away to his room. Unfortunately, Pony was hot on his heels. As much as he wanted to tell his brother to leave him alone, he couldn't bring himself to do so. "Guess you were right Pone," There was more animosity in Soda's words than Pony had ever heard. It was startling. "Darry don't want nothin' to do with us no more."
The last time Pony had seen Soda this worked up was at the funeral. The older boy had done a great job of staying strong and unphased since. Purely for Pony's benefit and not his own. "And you're sure he's actually married?" That tidbit he still couldn't wrap his mind around.
"Yup, came over and introduced herself as Matilda Curtis." Soda gave a brief recount of the short interaction at the store. Each detail fueling the already festering resentment in Pony. He looked downright disgusted.
"We don't need him anyhow," Pony scoffed. "Been doin' just fine without Boy of the Year all this time." There was no effort to hide his bitterness.
Soda ran the back of his hand over his eye. He wished these stupid fucking tears would dry up. It was only frustrating him even more. He just wanted to be angry without looking like a baby crying because his brother hurt his feelings. He wanted to throw the family picture on his dresser as hard as he could into the wall. Watch the glass shatter into a million pieces, then rip Darry's stupid face right out of the photo.
"Don't know why he even bothered to come back. I wish he would have just stayed gone," Pony paced back and forth across the small room, fists balled so tight it was a wonder his nails hadn't broken the skin. Soda had busied himself digging to the back of his sock drawer until his fingers grazed the hidden pack of Kools. Kept safe in case of an emergency. Also not likely to be found by Aunt Birdie, who was none too fond of either of them smoking.
Soda pushed open the window and popped out the screen. If they got caught smoking in the house, Aunt Birdie would have their asses. "I'm sure he'll realize he's too good for Tulsa and leave again," Soda took a drag, offering the smoke to Pony, who all too eagerly accepted.
"I hope it's sooner rather than later," Pony spat before continuing to rant. Soda tuned most of it out as they passed their smoke back and forth. He'd learned you just had to let Pony get it all out, not that you could get a word in edge-wise once he started a tirade.
"Go spend some time with your girl," Soda said finally, carefully trying to flick the butt of the cigarette as far away from the window as he possibly could. "'Fore ol' Two-Bit scares her away,"
The realization that he'd totally ditched Darla only dawned on Pony when Soda said that. A hint of panic glistened in his eyes. He'd been so caught up in his bitching he didn't think about the havoc Two-Bit could cause in such a short time. "You sure you're okay?" Pony was already half out the door but didn't want to abandon his brother.
Soda waved him off as he set to pop the screen back in place. "I'm fine, go," He must not have been too convincing because still, Pony hesitated at the door. "I'm fixin' to go catch up with Buck. He needs someone else to ride tonight."
Turns out the cold shoulder was worse than getting scolded. It had been a few hours since the pair had arrived home from the store, and Tillie hadn't said a word to him since the car ride. She was adamant that he call and apologize. Darry was too stubborn to choke the words out. Apologizing meant admitting he was in the wrong; he didn't feel in the grand scheme of things he was wrong.
It was Tillie who broke first. Darry was fully ready to sleep on the couch indefinitely to prove his point. She shoved the receiver of the phone at him. "Call your brother, or I will,"
This wasn't a threat. If he called her bluff, she'd make the call in two seconds flat. For such a tiny thing, she was fierce. With three brothers she learned to stand her ground pretty early in life. The thirty or so second staredown had felt like hours. Her arm was outstretched with the phone, not wavering once. When they were kids, Pony loved to have staring contests to see who could go the longest without blinking. He never won, and most times didn't last but a few seconds. For a moment, he wondered if this was how he'd looked to his kid brother, stone-faced, unmoving, and a little intimidating. Only when they were kids Pony would laugh and laugh, wanting to try again, doing anything he could to try and get Darry to blink first.
Reluctantly he took the phone, giving a far more dramatic sigh than was necessary. Tillie stepped aside, leaning against the counter. They both knew if she walked away he'd claim he called, and there was no answer. He wasn't going to get off the hook that easy. With what possibly held the record for the slowest dial, Darry punched in the numbers. As the line rang, he prayed nobody answered. Just when he thought favor smiled upon him allowing him to hang up, someone picked up.
"Hello?" It was Ponyboy. The last person he'd wanted to answer. Darry was silent long enough for Pony to repeat himself.
Tillie was ready to nudge him to say something, but he managed to choke out a wary, "Hey, Pone."
The only response was the sound of the dial tone. Pony had hung up so fast and aggressively it was a wonder Darry didn't hear the clash too. Less than a minute later, when the phone rang again, Pony didn't say a word when he picked up.
"Ponyboy," The sixteen-year-old was a bit smug at the desperation he heard, but not enough to listen to another word. The elation he felt hanging up was unmatched.
That is until he got hollered at, "Slam my phone down one more time," There was no need for Aunt Birdie to finish her sentence. He could fill in the blanks himself. To combat any future calls, Pony took the phone off the hook and laid it on the counter. Maybe Darry would get the hint no one wanted to talk to him when he couldn't get through.
Some nerve he had to call now after everything. Like it was no big deal calling to catch up and say hello. Chances are, if he hadn't gotten caught earlier today, he still wouldn't have made an effort to say anything. Tulsa was big enough who knows how long he could have kept on living as if he had no family to speak of. For all of the hurt Soda felt, Pony only felt anger. Contempt. Disgust. There wasn't a thing Darry could ever say to change that. He could grovel and apologize until he was blue in the face. Pony would simply let it go in one ear and out the other.
As he continued his chores, putting the clean dishes back in their rightful places, Pony felt like the phone receiver was staring at him. Glaring, as if Darry's frustration from not getting through was still coming through the line. He tried to brush it off. Darry didn't deserve a second thought from him. His assumption was correct Darry tried twice more to get through before Tillie let him give up. For the time being, that is. She was determined to get through if she had to sit by the phone all night.
"Hang up so hard it fell off the hook?" Aunt Birdie looked suspiciously at her youngest nephew, holding the receiver in her hand. She raised an eyebrow, and momentarily he wondered if she'd picked that habit up from Two-Bit.
Notably, Ponyboy was not a great liar. He took a second to turn and face her, scrambling for an excuse. He knew a simple sorry wouldn't cut it. "I uh," He placed the last plate back in the cupboard, scrambling for a reason. "I figured they'd stop callin' and believe me that this was the wrong number if they couldn't get through." Not entirely a lie, but not the whole truth either. As far as he was concerned, Darry was a stranger with no business dialing their phone.
"Hmm," She wasn't convinced but didn't have a reason not to believe him. The phone was promptly placed back on the hook. "Don't forget to take the trash out Sodapop forgot 'fore he left."
"Yes, ma'am," Pony was just happy she didn't press the issue. He'd gripe at his brother later about avoiding trash duty. He and Soda were pretty evenly matched in size now. If they got to wrestling, there was a chance Pony could even come out victorious.
Not even five minutes passed before the phone rang again. Immediately Pony stopped, almost dropping the trash he was ready to take out, to grab the phone. Unfortunately for him, Aunt Birdie was faster. She'd picked the phone up so quickly that he barely had time to react; he cursed under his breath.
"Curtis-Shultz residence," Her greeting was cordial and proper as if she were answering the phone at a business. As she listened to the caller on the other end, her eyes found Pony; he knew he was busted. "Junior! So good to hear from you,"
Feigned surprise overtook his features as he mouthed, "Darry?" Though his acting skills were sub-par as well. Aunt Birdie quickly shooed him away.
"The last few weeks have been hectic," Darry replied, feeling like a kid explaining to his parent why he'd been misbehaving in class. He'd rather be anywhere else right now. "We're finally back in town. Got in last night." The last time Darry talked to Aunt Birdie, he mentioned they were contemplating coming back to Tulsa. It hadn't been ideal, and he was hoping things worked out differently, but he had at least let her know. That wasn't sufficient communication as far as Tillie was concerned.
"I'm so glad you made it back safely," Ponyboy was eavesdropping from the dining room and rolled his eyes at her response. There wasn't much he was getting from the one side of the conversation he could hear, mostly a bunch of small talk. At least he wasn't asked to come to the phone. Any punishment Aunt Birdie saw fit would be better than suffering through a phone call with Darry.
"Why don't you two come over for dinner on Sunday?" Aunt Birdie offered; Pony's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He had to bite his tongue, literally, to stop the protest ready to fly from his mouth. Was she serious right now? He and Soda had made it abundantly clear they didn't want to talk to Darry, let alone sit through a meal with him. Hell, Darry had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with his family anymore. What part of Sunday dinner seemed like a good idea?
Darry hesitated in his response and stumbled over his words, once he managed to form them. That seemed like an awful idea to him, but Tillie felt otherwise. She'd all but pressed her ear to the phone trying to hear the conversation. "Say yes," she mouthed to him. Darry quickly shook his head. "Yes!" She whispered to him, a bit aggressively.
"Sunday's great," The fake enthusiasm was hard to mask.
"Ask her what we should bring," Tillie added, desperately wanting to take the phone and finish planning. She was close enough to the phone that Birdie could hear her, answering before Darry could even ask.
"Don't worry about bringing anything but that wife of yours. We can't wait to meet her," Aunt Birdie responded. Pony had to stop himself from gagging. Speak for yourself Aunt Birdie, no one else is excited about this stupid dinner.
Author's Note: Feedback is always appreciated!