A Capable Woman: 13/28 - Merdeith, A/A, Nathan & Peter

Chapter Thirteen

Six Months Later

1989

A month before Nathan was scheduled to leave for his first after graduation military posting Arthur Petrelli had his first “heart attack”. Arthur Petrelli was a man who knew mortality intimately, but it was only after his most recent, all too human bout with death that he felt perhaps his luck was beginning to run out. His depression returned which, as Angela told her son Nathan, is what happened with heart patients and to think nothing more of it. It was hard to get Arthur out at night and Angela worried for him, but she told no one of her fears. The information was kept from their young son Peter and no one was the wiser. Angela was forty-four-years-old and she was still a stranger to the truth.

Nathan, on the other hand, saw the weight that his father carried showed more upon the “old man’s” shoulders. Nathan himself had taken on adult responsibilities long before the appropriate age, both by family circumstances and his own actions. From being the father to Peter that Nathan’s own father had been to him, to taking on the family responsibilities, the burden, as the golden son – the heir apparent, it was nothing Nathan asked for or was asked of him. Nathan Petrelli took it freely, for he had been raised to be just that kind of a man – he felt it was his birthright. All Nathan yreaned to do was lift some of the load off his father’s shoulders– both his parents. The burden Nathan felt responsible for by nothing more than his own birth. Nathan Petrelli’s childhood had been a short one.

"Sometimes you have to make hard choices for the greater good, " Arthur Petrelli almost demanded to his son as they both stood outside on the back patio, looking up at the stars.

"Pop, I know..." Nathan had been caught by his father sneaking a cigar after dinner. His father didn’t care, Arthur knew what habits one picks up from military life. But really it was an occasional habit on Nathan’s part, and at the moment, was helping him relax away from what he only referred to as his “mother’s nagging.”

"Everything I do, everything I’ve done, I did to take care of this family, you know that, Nathan."

"Yeah, Pop, I know..." He figured his father had been talking about Linderman.

It was no secret in the Petrelli home what Arthur Petrelli did for Daniel Linderman, a known mobster and Arthur’s number one client. Peter and Nathan knew the details of their father’s business, at least they thought they did – they of course didn’t know the whole story – the story Arthur Petrelli was really alluding too.

“I know, Pop. I know..." Nathan saw the pain in his father’s eyes and it was something Nathan would never forget.

Arthur took the cigar out of Nathan’s hand and took a puff.

"Pop!" Nathan scolded him. After all the man had just had a heart attack, as far as Nathan knew..

Arthur Petrelli took another puff and smiled at his son. "Don’t tell your mother." He smirked and raised his eyebrows.

One of the few family secrets Arthur Petrelli did share with his son Nathan, one that no one else knew about, especially not ten-year-old Peter, was that when Nathan was born his family’s money was beginning to be in name and prestige only. Sure, they had some money, more than most, but most of it was caught up in investments, assets and debt passed down to Arthur from the previous generation; Arthur Petrelli actually had to work for a living. He worked for a living to keep his family in the manner to which they were accustomed to. And soon Arthur Petrelli had his fortune back and no one was the wiser. Thanks to Daniel Linderman, which in turn was thanks to the Company, the Petrellis didn’t need to worry for funds ever again. Peter and Nathan always knew their livelihood as children – room, board, education and food - was funded by blood money; they just didn’t know how literal it actually was. As far as the Petrelli boys were both concerned, Arthur Petrelli was a very successful Manhattan lawyer with one prominent shady dealing - and that was the way Arthur Petrelli liked it.

Once a month a man would arrive, usually in the mid-morning, at the Petrelli home. He would have a check for Angela to sign for - postmark - Las Vegas. Angela would then sit at her desk, among her silver desk set and her brown leather checkbook embossed with the words Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Petrelli and write the check’s amount into the household accounts. She would do all of this with a stern, silent demeanor and a very nice pen. By noon, on the dot, Angela would have her driver, David, take her to the family’s bank where Angela would deposit the check to the eager smiles of the bank manager. These checks made the transactions have a sense of purpose - a way for a large amount of money to mysteriously appearing in one’s checking account without appearing suspicious. At around five o’clock that evening Arthur Petrelli would take a break from his day’s work and pull out his own checkbook, the same color as Angela’s and write a check. He would then casually hand it off to his secretary, who would deposit the money in an account labeled: “college fund.” In the next couple of days Arthur Petrelli would have that money wired to an offshore account that had one purpose and one purpose only: Claire’s future. It was all just another necessary evil in the Petrellis life.

Nathan didn’t want to leave his father so soon after his heart attack, but Nathan knew his own military service made his father proud. And although he didn’t want to leave town, Nathan knew how much it meant to his father if he honored his commitment and not use his father as an excuse; his mother agreed. It pleased Nathan even more when the news brought a smile to his father’s face.

Peter, although only ten, was too young to truly understand what was happening around him. As far as Peter was concerned he always saw his father as a very serious, sour man, so to Peter there was nothing out of the ordinary about his father’s behavior. But, perhaps Peter just didn’t know where to look yet. Peter would occasionally catch his mother and father holding hands when they didn’t think anyone else was looking. And his mother crying alone when she didn’t think anyone was around. His mother tears was something Peter could understand and it made a deep impression on him.

When Nathan was away at Annapolis, it was hard on his little brother, but they were always in contact by phone or postcard – not to mention holiday visits. But, with Nathan’s first official posting, Peter felt alone without his older brother only a phone call away. Nathan had had other military postings during his summers off from school, but this felt different to little Peter. It was the idea that Nathan was one step closer to going off to war, a war he didn’t understand and this weighed heavy on Peter’s heart. It would on anyone, but Peter just felt it stronger and more intense, picking up on the thoughts and discomfort of those around him, like he almost understood what they were feeling. He knew something was wrong, that his mother seemed troubled all the time. That she only started smiling when he entered a room, but he could have no idea the type of pain she was going through. All Peter knew was that both his parents had many worries on their mind; just like all adults.

The truth going on in the Petrelli household was that Arthur and Angela Petrelli were becoming more and more disillusioned by the world, and even more so by the Company they now felt ensconced in like quicksand. They knew the Company needed to be in place and that even removing one floorboard would bring the whole ship down. And when that piñata burst, it would not be raining candy. They had resigned themselves, long ago, that for the sake of the world, for the sake of their children, they would have to mortgage their souls. But it was at this time in their lives that Arthur and Angela fully understood that there was no turning back, only looking forward; something Angela was well acquainted with.

The new partnership Angela and Arthur had formed with Peter’s birth was snowballing each day from a secret to a conspiracy, as they fought for and against the very thing they were. Loved and hated the very thing they perpetrated. Trying to do the right thing for everyone concerned. Trying to stay afloat in a world that they themselves had created and knew too well could literally suffocate them both. It took no prisoners. It was absolute. And if it meant doing the things they had to do to stop that cycle with them, it was worth it. Evil must be stopped, they used to say, when anyone questioned the practice of the Company. Angela and Arthur now knew that all too well.

Every day was a waiting game and every moment was a question mark, as Angela and Arthur waited for Claire’s arrival. The waiting was always the hardest part.

The Petrelli Home

Four Months Later

The first thing Angela remembered was Nathan’s huge smile when he opened the door. He came home a few hours earlier than was planned and he surprised everyone when he walked into the house after four months flying jets in Texas.

Angela was caught off-guard and gasped happily.

“Nathan!” Peter yelled, leaping down the stairs into his older brother’s arms, as Nathan knelt down and hugged him.

“Oh, I missed you, kid.” Nathan held on for dear life, just like his mother had to him when Nathan had left himself. “What are you going to do when I go off to war, Ma?” He joked to her at the time, but she didn’t find it funny.

Angela walked to her son and he kissed her on the cheek.

“Ma.” Nathan smiled at her.

“You look good, “ she laid her hand on his chin for a moment. “Well fed. Good, you look good.”

“Three squares a day...” His eyes darted off and he caught sight of his father. “Pop!” His father looked well and that gave Nathan great joy.

“Son.” Arthur smiled and put out his hand for Nathan to shake.

The men shook hands as Nathan’s Annapolis ring gleamed in the sunlight.

“Sir.” Nathan would later recall that it was the first time he really felt like a man in his father’s presence.

Nathan grinned that Petrelli grin like a mirror in his father’s direction, while Peter stood happily at his brother’s feet. Angela knew that grin well and it gave her a melancholy feeling.

Nathan finally gazed up and noticed a makeshift sign hanging in front of him with the words, “Welcome Home, Nathan,” in different color crayons, and Nathan knew it was Peter’s hand.

Nathan Petrelli took a deep breath; it was good to be home. And it was a good day because Nathan was with what his mother would say was the most important thing in the world, “family.”

Four Months Later

The Petrelli Home

Angela helped Peter with his homework at one end of the living room, while Arthur and Nathan discussed Nathan’s future at the other.. Nathan would finish his law degree, take his tour of duty overseas, then after a few years come home and intern at his father’s firm. His father had made arrangements, how Nathan didn’t know.

It was all laid out for Nathan on a silver platter and it made him happy for the future, because he was one step closer to being a man like his father.

Angela and Peter set their foreheads together in a loving gesture and Angela smiled. Now finished with his homework Peter ran off and Angela stood. She looked over at Nathan and her husband and all seemed well - happy. Angela tried to pretend that this wasn’t always the time when everything fell apart. She tried to forget the words Arthur used to say to her, “looks can be deceiving.”

There was suddenly a knock at the door. Angela’s head turned toward the foyer and the sound. . She looked at Arthur and Nathan to see if they were expecting anyone, but they looked at her just as dumbfounded as she was.

Angela made her way into the foyer just in time to see Peter standing in front of a half open door.

“Peter dear, who is it?” Angela entered the foyer and walked to the entrance way. She took hold of the door above Peter’s head and turned it from a small opening to a larger one.

It was then that the person behind the door was revealed to Angela Petrelli. The face was unmistakable and Angela knew just who the girl was. Blonde hair, rosy cheeks, large smile, small stature - it was Claire’s mother. Angela’s stomach sank because the time had come. She had dreaded it, but it was done – the time had arrived. Plans made, must be hatched.

Nineteen-year-old Meredith Gordon put her swollen fingers over her almost six month pregnant stomach. This caused Angela to eye her action with great detail.

Meredith looked down at Peter and smiled, “Well, you must be Peter – your brother has told me so much about you, it’s like I already know you, “ she purred in her southern tones.

“Peter, go in the back yard and play...” Angela instructed Peter coldly and he obeyed.

There she was, standing in Angela’s doorway, the mother of Nathan’s first child, with her golden curls, young as a new day sky, big bright eyes, bags packed and at her feet. Petrelli boys sure had a type.

“I’m looking for Nathan.” Meredith rubbed her stomach as her eyes danced.

But, Angela already knew that.

                                                                 ~

Angela locked the back door behind Peter and bolted the deadlock. She didn’t want her son to know anything about what was to transpire - no one could know. It would have to stay between the four of them: Angela, Arthur, Nathan and Meredith. It was the only way to keep Claire safe. In Angela’s life that’s what secrets were for, to keep people safe.

Angela entered the living room and she could see Nathan and his father talking passionately through parts of the study’s glass door, the rest was obscured with soft white curtains.

Angela smiled at Meredith, who was sitting on the couch, with her own polite fake smile.

Meredith appeared to be out of place as she sat in the Petrelli living room, drinking a glass of milk, looking around at the finery she saw around Angela’s home. She had seen nothing like it in Texas.

Angela looked the girl over and had her pegged. Angela had her pegged from the moment she opened the door, and it had nothing to do with pre-cognitive dreaming. Angela Petrelli knew people, she knew what they wanted based on how they behaved, their body language, what they said and how they looked; that was from experience. And when Charles had first brough the concept to her attention he never could have dreamed this would be the way she would end up using it - to manipluate.

It was starting to get awkward between the two women. “Excuse me,” Angela shined that same polite smile again and entered Arthur’s study.

Arthur’s voice ripped through the living room.“Do you really want to be saddled down with a wife and a kid, Nathan? Now.”

“No, of course not!” Nathan said with the brashness of a snotty kid with no sense of the world.

Angela closed the door behind her as Meredith tried to pretend she hadn’t heard what Nathan had said and Nathan tried to forget he knew Meredith had heard him.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing, here!” Nathan yelled to his father. “I’m just tryin’ to do what you would do, Pop.”

“Then listen to me, kid...” he bellowed with full force, putting out both his hands toward his son.

“Nathan,” Angela tried to interrupt, but before she could get another word in edgewise Nathan brushed her off.

“Ma! Do you mind.” He wouldn’t take her gaze. “ I don’t want to hear from you right now – let me just talk this over with Pop!” He turned away from her.

Angela wasn’t sure if Nathan felt it unbecoming for a man to talk to his mother about such things or if he was generally embarrassed for what had happened. Knocking up one’s girlfriend isn’t something one talks to one’s mother about.

Arthur nodded his head for Angela to go.

Angela took a breath and rolled her head skyward; she wasn’t happy. Still, Angela left the study and shut the door behind her. And there was Meredith again, leaving the two women in another awkward moment.

Meredith looked around. “Nathan wasn’t kiddin’ when he said two different worlds – he use to joke we were from two different worlds. I ain’t never seen such things in my life. You have a lovely home.” She drank her milk. “Wow, “ she exclaimed looking around and nodding her head and smiling. “I like that one.” She pointed to a chair. “It’s real nice.”

“It’s a Stickley,” Angela said pointedly, rubbing two of her fingers together and looking at her nails for a moment.

“Oh...” Meredith mouthed not knowing what that was. She would later learn by accident it was a famous furniture designer and Meredith would remember this moment, feeling proud that she finally knew what the word Stickly meant. Claire remembered her mother telling her that story, Meredith just failed to mention any names.

Meredith put her hand to her stomach.

“How far along are you?” Angela ran her hands over the back of a chair directly in front of the study door and opposite Meredith.

“Six months, just about seven...”

“I was about your age when I had Nathan,” she sat down in the chair. “When did you know?”

“Oh, I don’t...I wasn’t sure at first – three-four months?” She nodded her head shy and uneasy.

“Really? Because you’re a small girl, smaller than me I think, not by that much, but still pregnancy holds more on a smaller woman especially in a girl as young as you. Your first pregnancy, I’m assuming? Which means you would have had to have started to show a little before that – whichsaysto me you waited to come here and tell Nathan. “ She paused and stared the girl down. “I think you waited a few more months so you could... make an impression.” She eyed Meredith’s stomach.

The girl swallowed hard. “Nathan will do the right thing,” she said quickly.

“Yes, he will.” She said in a soft and pointed voice. “ Nathan always wants to do the right thing. But what he thinks is right and what his father and I think is right are two different things entirely.” Angela slid a piece of hair behind her ear and locked eyes with the girl with all her power. “The right thing can be very subjective.” Angela, without moving a muscle, had shifted the power play to her corner. “How much do you want?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How much do you want?” Angela eyed the girl for a moment, waiting for her to speak. She held her hands in front of her, setting her fingers together.

“Fifty thousand.” Meredith didn’t have to think hard on that one. “And some money for expenses and stuff, for the kid.”

“Twenty thousand. We pay for your room and board, in Texas . You’ll get a very generous allowance once a month. All correspondences are done through me --You tell no one who the child’s father is. No one. You do not see Nathan, he does not see you. And as long as you keep that child alive and healthy, your allowance will grow every year until the child finishes college, which we will also pay for.” Angela spoke with clarity, grace and power.

There was a long pause while the two women stared each other down.

Angela slightly shook her head in a condescending way as she talked, “It’s the best you could ever hope for, dear. “ She paused. “You’ve hit the jackpot. I’d take the deal.” She rose and nodded her head. “It won’t be on the table for very long.”

Meredith looked at Angela and waited a moment, looking as if she wasn’t sure what to do. Finally, Meredith sealed her fate and nodded her head yes.

“I thought you might say that...” Angela grinned and her eyes widened.

That night Nathan told Meredith he wasn’t ready to be a father and she didn’t tell him about the money. Angela and Arthur told Nathan not to worry, that they would make the arrangements, he never knew they already had.

And sometime later, after the Petrelli’s driver took Meredith to the airport, alone, Angela had her first dream in which Peter was dead; it frightened her to her core. At least Claire was safe, but now Angela had to worry about Peter; she just didn’t know why yet.


                                                              ~

Next Chapter: 1991: Angela sees Peter’s future firsthand. She meets Claude & The Haitian.