Like Mom
Gwen smiled, but only because he smiled. Peter Parker, her light in the world. It was unfair to think this at the dinner table, over the pancakes that May had prepared. Her thoughts also came with a side effect of bittersweet feelings that twisted in her stomach as another bite of pancake settled in her stomach. Family dinner at her house was never like this, mostly because they didn’t really have family dinner. Her dad would often buy some cheap takeout and they ate it in front of the TV. Too cowardly to talk to one another at the dinner table that hadn’t been completely filled since her mom died. It was tough and her dad just never wanted to talk… ever.
But here, things were so simple. Gwen and Peter sat at the table, laughing at a comment that Ben had made. He was an easy kind of funny, the kind that made it simple enough to have a serious conversation with. There was no joking with her dad, he was too serious, even for a cop. He was always talking about real stuff, or not talking at all. It was a difficult balance that Gwen often couldn’t maintain. She loved her dad, it was just so hard to love him when you can’t say it out loud, or really anything for that manor.
“Ben, stop.” Aunt May started, apparently having enough rude comments from him. “We can’t be trash talking the neighbors all the time. We still have to live next to them.” Ben nodded, nonchalantly.
“I know May, I know. It’s just good to see these kids laughing.” Gwen smiled, a sour feeling nibbling its way into her stomach. This was the only place she could come to laugh. The only place where she could seem to get away from the seriousness that swirled through her house consistently. Even just thinking of going home already made her miss Peter.
● ● ●
After they both helped May with the dishes, Gwen and Peter went on the back balcony. After the light in the aunt and uncle's bedroom went off, Peter pulled out a package of cigarettes. Nothing they hadn’t done before. New Year's eve last year was a great party.
“So… Your dad? Is he working late?” Peter said, with a nervous side eye.
“No, he would have gotten off an hour or two ago.”
“And you didn’t go home to him?” Peter lit the cigarette and took a drag, passing it to Gwen.
“I don’t always have to, you know. It’s so suffocating to be in that apartment. Just him and me, going hours without saying anything.” She took a drag, coughing lightly and blowing it out her nose.
“Okay, okay. I get it, he's a serious guy.”
“Yeah, something like that.” Gwen mumbled, passing the cigarette back.
“Do you ever try talking to him? Like you did before your mom died?” Gwen let out a strangled breath.
“I really should be going. Maybe I should get back to my dad and try your strategy. If I hadn’t already tried it twenty times before this.” Peter put his hands up in defense, the cigarette ash falling on his sweater.
“Just a suggestion Gwen. I know it’s hard, but I’m sure it might get better if you would just-”
“Pete, you’re supposed to be on my side. You know what, I’ll just get my stuff and leave.”
“Okay then, goodnight Gwen.” Peter Parker, ever the peacemaker.
“Fine, goodnight Peter.” She couldn't even resist saying it back.
●●●
She walked up the stairs in her apartment complex, frustrated. Frustrated that she was supposed to be mad at Peter but she couldn’t be. Gwen knew he was only trying to help, he wanted her to be happy, like he probably was. It didn’t matter, tonight was going to be the same as it always was. She stopped at her apartment and unlocked the door. Gwen tried to be quiet, knowing it wouldn’t matter anyway. Her dad was a cop and seemed to always be on alert. As soon as she stepped through the door she could hear the blaring TV turn off.
“Hello Gwen. Don’t you have school in the morning?” George Stacy started almost professionally.
“Yeah, I should be fine.”
“You were at Peter’s again?”
“Of course. Where else would I be?” she mumbled the last part to herself. It seemed obvious to Gwen where she was.
“You’ve been to his house for dinner every night this week. Don’t you think you’re overstaying your welcome a little bit?”
“No, Peter invites me and I like going over.”
“Okay, it’s just we haven’t gotten to have dinner together like we usually do.” he had this tired but genuine look on his face. A small thought flitted in her brain, he is just trying his hardest.
“Dinner like we usually do? You mean where we just eat gross takeout and stare at the TV? I have a hard time believing that it counts as family dinner.” His face dropped, a pit forming in Gwens stomach.
“I like being with you. I like spending time with my daughter.” Gwen could see it in his eyes. He was attempting to approach this argument rationally, like a police officer would. That didn’t satisfy Gwen. She wanted an emotion from him, a human emotion, any emotion.
“I know that Dad, it’s just hard when we don’t talk, like at all.”
“Okay, you want to talk, let’s talk. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s not that easy, I’d like it to be easy. I want to talk.”
“If you want me to talk with you like you do with Peter, I can’t. You know that’s not going to happen. I’m not one of your peers.”
“NO.” She took a breath out and started softer. “No, that's not what I want. I just want us to talk-”
“You keep saying you want us to talk and I don’t know what you mean.”
“I want you to talk to me like you did before mom died!” He dropped eye contact and clicked the TV all the way off. He stood and began to walk in the direction of his room. Gwen felt the chasm between them ripping open wider and wider. He turned back in the doorway for a moment to look at her.
“You know I’ve been in my line of work long enough to know that death changes things. It’s changed things with the men and the victims I work with. It makes it harder somehow.” George took in a haggard breath. “I’ve thought about it… her…. Your mom a lot. I’ve thought about how things will never be how they used to be. It can’t, because she’s not here anymore. I know you want it to be easy, but it’s not. It’s going to take work to get to where we want to be Gwen. We can’t even start to make the first steps if you go out of your way to avoid me.” They stared at each other for a few moments, his tired eyes boring into hers. “Goodnight Gwen.” He said and left. Gwen just stood, feeling like her chest had just been ripped open. She wished her mom was here. She could fix anything and always knew why her dad acted the way he did. Gwen growled in frustration and stalked into her room. The overwhelming feeling to call Peter settled on her chest. She could tell him how she tried to take his advice. Peter would know what to say, Peter could help her reach her dad.
So she picked up her phone and called. He didn’t answer the first time. She called a couple times, still with no answer.
That should have been her first warning sign.