This chapter was meant to be posted on Christmas in 2019. I actually typed up the chapter but unfortunately, the entire thing got deleted without my knowledge. All in all, do enjoy this chapter.
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Peter Parker was walking through the cemetery to visit the graves of Richard and Mary Parker. He had two bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm. When he stopped before two identical tombstones that were situated side by side, he removed the withered flowers and replaced them with the fresh ones that he had brought. As he got up, he placed one hand on each stone, running his fingers along the concrete. When he was about to leave, his eyes caught sight of a different tombstone that somehow stood out among the rest. It wasn't that the fact that the gravestone was slightly smaller as compared to the others, it was the name that was etched onto the smooth surface. It read:
IN THE LOVING MEMORY OF
STANLEY MARTIN LIEBER
1922 - 2018
EXCELSIOR!
Flashback/
Peter is 8.
One Peter Parker Stark-Rogers swung his legs as he sat on the bench, eyeing the stream of cheery children that ran to their respective parents and guardians who were here to pick them up. His friends Harry and Ned had left a while ago and now, he had no one left to talk to. He eyed the snowflakes that fluttered onto the open sidewalk. He had on a blue and red jacket, the two colors that represented both his parents. It was a gift from his uncle Bucky from his previous Christmas which was the first Christmas he had spent with his adopted family.
"Hey, kid. What are you doing out here all alone?" Peter looked up at the old man in a yellow jacket and a pair of mufflers. His gloved hands were resting on the handlebar of the hot dog cart that he was pushing along the path. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." Peter replied which in turn made the man chuckle. "You've been well taught. Don't worry. I'm just an old man whose trying to sell some hot dogs. This winter season makes it bad for business. What's your name?" There was a pause before, "Peter."
"Well, Peter. I'm Stan. Stan Lee. Nice to meet you. Where are your parents? It's awfully dangerous to be by yourself at this time of the day."
"My daddy's gonna be the one to pick me up from school today. But I don't know where he is." Peter replied. He was a little disappointed as he said it for his father was usually on time for these sort of things. "Do you think he's forgotten about me?" Peter whispered sadly.
"Now, I may not know who your father is, but I'm sure he didn't forget you. Maybe he's caught up at work."
"Maybe."
There was an awkward silence for a moment as Stan eyed the boy sadly. He knew how kids at Peter's age were like. They were so fragile when it came to the love of their parents. "Say. Do you want a hot dog? It's on the house. I'm about to head back anyway. And it'd be a real waste to have to throw them out." Peter was about to decline but his stomach growled in earnest and he shot the man a sheepish smile. The man who had introduced himself as Stan Lee fished out a bun and lifted the cover of his cart. Retrieving a pair of tongs, he fished out a hot dog straight out of the boiling water and slide it nicely between the bread. "Ketchup or Mustard?" Peter thought for a moment before nodding to the idea of both condiments. Once Stan was done, he handed the bun over to the boy who took it with a smile, shooting him a thanks in return.
The man watched as Peter scarfed the hot dog down as if it were his last meal on earth. When Peter polished off the entire thing in a matter of minutes, he chuckled. "You've got quite the appetite there, Peter."
"Thank you for the hot dog."
"Don't mention it, kid."
Just as he was about to ask another question, Peter heard the honking of a car. His eyes lit up when he saw the familiar black SUV pulling up into the sidewalk. The windows rolled down and the face of one Tony Stark was revealed. He wore shades as he cupped his hands and bellowed, "Peter! Come'on kiddo!" As Peter raced to the car, he didn't forget to wave Stan goodbye.
"Sorry for being late. My boss wouldn't let me leave a meeting!" As Peter happily chattered about his day to his father as he got into the car, Stan stood by his hot dog cart, leaning against his elbow for support. And as the car began to pull out of the sidewalk, he waved at the retreating vehicle.
