Post 2

The end of Peter Valgard’s senior year of high school was fast approaching. At the end of May – two short weeks away – he would be graduatng near the top of his class. His parents were certainly proud of their youngest child.

It was Saturday, and Peter sat at the desk in his room with pencil in hand and paper in front of him. His calculus book was open on one side and his class notes were on the other as he worked through some of the more difficult problems, getting ready for final exams.

His t-shirt still bore green and black stains from having worked on the lawnmower earlier that day. He had to get it tuned up and ready for his summer job, but more importantly, so that he could go over and cut the Sinclair’s lawn. This would be the last summer he had to sweat it out all day pushing that lawnmower over acres of lush, green grass that has no business growing in this part of the country. Isn’t Denver supposed to be an arid climate?

Around his desk were several piles of boxes full clothes, books, trophies from teams when he was younger, and other stuff. All the baseball posters that normally covered his walls were rolled up neatly and stored in cardboard tubes. His parents had decided that he could move into the bigger bedroom for his last summer at home before he goes away to college, and he took the opportunity to go through the things he owned and put them in categories – things to keep, things to take with him to college, and things to donate or sell.

The words on the page began to blur as Peter allowed his mind to drift for a moment. He thought back to the last time he was even allowed in the room that he was about to move into. His brother Daniel lived in it then. They had had a fight about Peter touching Daniel’s stuff, and Daniel refused to allow him into his room any more after that. Peter smiled as he recalled the events then. Though he denied it at the time, he really was the one who was sneaking into Daniel’s room and moving things around. Daniel figured out that it was Peter just by the evidence Peter left behind. He definitely showed early signs of having the aptitude for his profession as a police officer.

That was back when Peter still believed in his imaginary friend “Gutter.” Peter hadn’t even thought about that name in years. When he was younger and his siblings and other kids weren’t around, he would talk to Gutter, telling him all the secrets in his life. He felt comfortable with this friend, and filled his alone time pretending to play with him. There were even times, looking back, when Peter swore he could see Gutter, out of the corner of his eye if the light in the room was just right.

Peter’s reverie was broken when his mother called up the stairs for him. “It must be dinner time,” he thought to himself as he looked towards the door to his room. He put his books away and as he stood up, he noticed how dirty his shirt was, so he quickly changed and went downstairs. As he got to the bottom of the stairs, his mother called him again from the dining room, but he couldn’t smell anything like he normally would be able to when dinner is ready. His mother’s cooking always filled the house with delicious smells that you notice long before you got to the dining room. He began to wonder what was going on.

His mother, Heather and his father, Patrick were sitting at the dining room table. His mother had been crying, and his father was visibly upset. A notepad was on the table between them with some scribbled notes on it. Next to it sat a box of tissues. His father still held the pen in a tight grip.

“Peter, honey, it’s about Sarah,” said his mother softly. Peter began to wonder what happened to Sarah, his sister. She’s pregnant with his parent’s first grandchild, and they kept in touch with her all the time. “I know we promised you the other bedroom, but Sarah is going to need it.” Peter could only look at them quizzically as the words sank in.

His father interrupted. “We’re sorry, Peter, but we wouldn’t do this if we didn’t need to. Her no-good husband found himself another woman to spend time with.” His mother began to sob quietly again. “She’s going to move into that room, so you’re stuck where you are.”

Peter didn’t know what to say as his father handed his mother a tissue and put his arm around her. Patrick continued, “I hope you understand. With the baby coming, she is going to need the extra room.”

“I understand, dad,” said Peter. He was a little disappointed, to be sure, but it wasn’t like there wasn’t a good reason for Sarah to take the room ahead of him. “I only would have used it for a couple months anyway.”

“We’re going to move her in right away. She’ll be here any minute. We’ll spend the weekend after next getting her stuff from their house,” his father said.

“Isn’t that when Dan gets back from his friend’s place in New Jersey?” asked Peter.

“Yeah,” said his father, “but we were hoping you could pick him up from the airport. Would you mind doing that? You can take my car.” Since they’re using the truck, he means the Mercedes.

“Uh, yes, I can do that. No problem,” he answered.

The doorbell rang and Heather got up to answer it. As she opened the door, Peter saw Sarah, visibly distraught. The last time Peter had seen Sarah, she was barely showing. Now you could definitely tell she was pregnant. Heather and Sarah gave each other a long hug at the door before Sarah walked all the way into the room. Peter went over and gave his sister a hug, too. As he did, he was overcome with the feeling that he should protect her. “I’m sorry, sis,” is all he said.

At his father’s request, Peter got Sarah’s suitcase out of her car and put it up into her room before the four of them got into the Mercedes and went out to eat. Conversation at dinner was about anything except Jason and the other woman. They talked about Peter’s upcoming graduation and college plans, about Heather’s job, and even about the weather.