Every year, Sarah had to devise a new excuse to explain to her family why they wouldn’t be visiting. “I won’t miss a single-family holiday because of your parents!” her husband Peter always insisted. But this time, Sarah stood her ground and defended her family values.
The end of autumn and the beginning of winter had always been my favorite time of year.
Сrisp air carried the smell of woodsmoke, and the golden leaves gave way to the first frost.
It was the season when my family would gather, no matter what, to share holiday dinners and exchange thoughtful gifts.
Those gatherings were the heart of my childhood, moments of warmth and laughter that felt like nothing else in the world.
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But since marrying Peter, those moments had become memories. Each year, I found myself on the phone, explaining to my parents why I couldn’t make it.
Why, once again, I’d be spending the holidays with Peter’s family instead of my own.
My mom would try to sound understanding, but I knew it hurt her. It hurt me too.
This year, though, things were going to be different. For the first time, Peter had agreed to spend Thanksgiving with my parents.
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It had taken weeks of discussion—if you could call the arguments discussions—but he finally relented.
And now, here we were, strolling through the grocery store, picking out a bottle of wine for my mom, a new roasting pan for my dad, and the ingredients for the pumpkin pie I wanted to bake.
I clutched a small bundle of festive napkins with turkeys printed on them and held them up for Peter’s opinion.
He shrugged. His lack of enthusiasm was obvious, and it had been simmering all day.
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“Are you okay, love?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
“Yeah. Couldn’t be better,” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.
I sighed.
“Are you still upset about going to my parents’ house?”
He stopped walking and turned to me, his face tight with frustration. “Of course, I’m upset! Why should I skip my family’s holiday for your whims?”
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“My whims?” I said, my voice rising despite myself. “I’ve done this for you every single year since we started dating, Peter. Every. Year.”
“Oh, here we go,” he said with a bitter laugh. “It’s always about you, isn’t it? You didn’t like this, you didn’t like that. What about me? Why don’t you care if I’m happy?”
“Peter,” I said slowly, keeping my voice as steady as possible, “we’ve already talked about this. I just want one season with my parents. If that’s too much for you, maybe we should celebrate separately.”
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His eyebrows shot up.
“Season? Are you saying you’re skipping Christmas with my family too?”
“Yes,” I replied firmly, though my stomach churned.
“This year, I’m spending the holidays with my parents.”
He laughed, a harsh, humorless sound.
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“Fine. Then you can explain that to my parents.”
“I will,” I said, keeping my tone quiet and even.
I felt wrung out, as if every ounce of energy had been drained by this conversation. I just wanted it to be over.
We stood in the aisle for a moment, the silence between us louder than the buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead.
He grabbed the cart handle and pushed it forward without another word.
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I followed, clutching the napkins to my chest, trying to hold on to the excitement that had felt so real just hours ago.
The tension hung heavy in the car as we neared my parents’ house.
Peter gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw set in a way that warned me not to push too hard. But I couldn’t let it go entirely.
“Peter,” I started softly, “please, just be kind to my parents. They’re excited to see us, and they’re nervous about making a good impression.”
He let out a sharp laugh.
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“Oh, great! Now you’re giving me instructions? Should I juggle for them too? Or maybe do a little dance?”
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m not asking for much. I just want this to go well.”
“Well,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly, “maybe you should’ve just invited them to join us at my family’s house. Wouldn’t that have been easier?”
I shook my head, exasperated. “Peter, they’re old. Traveling for the holidays isn’t easy for them.”
“Great. Just perfect!” he muttered, throwing one hand up dramatically before gripping the wheel again.
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The rest of the drive was silent except for the hum of the engine.
I focused on the frosty trees lining the road, trying to calm the knot in my stomach.
When we arrived, I forced a smile and rang the doorbell.
My mom, Charlotte, opened the door almost immediately, her face lighting up as she threw her arms around us.
“I’m so happy to see you! Finally, you’re here!” she exclaimed, her warmth like a balm to my nerves.
Behind her, my dad, Kevin, offered a small, reserved smile, his usual quiet presence grounding the moment.
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Peter muttered a half-hearted “hello” and walked inside without eye contact.
I gave my mom an apologetic look, silently willing her to understand. Then, with a deep breath, I followed him into the house.
Inside the warm glow of the house, my mom and I moved around the dining room, setting the table with care.
The soft clatter of plates and the occasional hum of her voice filled the space as we arranged the dishes.
In the living room, Peter sat stiffly on the couch, his arms crossed, while my dad quietly flipped through a magazine beside him.
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Mom glanced toward Peter, her movements slowing. “Is Peter okay?” she asked softly. “He seems… upset.”
I hesitated, trying to find the right words.
“He’s just… frustrated, I think,” I said finally, keeping my voice low. “He wishes we were spending the holiday with his family.”
Her hands paused mid-air, holding a serving spoon. “Oh,” she said, her tone tinged with confusion and sadness. “Did we do something wrong?”
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“No, Mom,” I said quickly. “It’s not you. It’s just—” I stopped, unsure how to explain the unspoken tension between Peter and me. “It’s complicated.”
She looked at me, her brows drawn together.
“We’re not family to him?” she asked quietly, almost to herself.
Her words hit me like a cold wind. I didn’t know how to respond.
Was that how Peter saw it? My family, my parents—were they nothing to him? The thought stung more than I wanted to admit.
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“I’m sorry,” I murmured, though I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for. For Peter’s mood? For his indifference? For years I’d put my family on hold for his?
Mom placed a hand on my arm, her touch warm and steady.
“You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart,” she said gently.
But her eyes still held a shadow of hurt, and it lingered in the air as we finished setting the table in silence.
The table was set beautifully, with crisp white linens, shining silverware, and the aroma of roasted turkey filling the room.
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My mom, Charlotte, stood back to admire her work before clapping her hands.
“Everything’s ready! Come and eat!” she said with cheerful warmth, her voice echoing into the quiet living room.
We all gathered around the table. My dad, Kevin, pulled out my mom’s chair for her, and I couldn’t help but smile at his small gesture of old-fashioned chivalry.
Peter followed sluggishly, barely making an effort to engage, and slumped into his seat with a sigh.
The meal began, but the air was tense like a storm waiting to break. My mom tried valiantly to spark a conversation.
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“So, Peter,” she started brightly, “how’s work going? Busy this time of year?”
He gave a noncommittal grunt, stabbing a piece of turkey with his fork.
“Dad’s been working on the deck in the backyard,” I chimed in, trying to fill the silence. “It’s really coming together.”
My dad nodded. “It’s slow, but it keeps me busy. Maybe you could come by and give me some tips, Peter.”
Peter didn’t even look up. “Yeah, maybe,” he muttered, flicking a crumb off the table.
I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Peter,” I said softly, leaning toward him, “what’s wrong? Can I help?”
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He dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter and leaned back in his chair. “Everything’s wrong!” he snapped, his voice loud enough to make my mom flinch.
“How is this even Thanksgiving without my mom’s chocolate pudding?”
“Pudding?” my mom echoed, her voice unsure, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for her glass of water.
“It’s fine,” I interjected quickly, trying to calm the situation. “His mom always makes it for him. It’s no big deal.”
Peter scoffed, his eyes blazing. “No big deal? Of course! Because nothing I want ever matters. It’s always about Sarah, isn’t it? What Sarah wants. What Sarah needs.”
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“Peter, please,” I begged, my voice cracking. “This is supposed to be a happy day.”
He pushed his chair back, the chair’s legs screeching against the floor. “Listen, I’m done! We’re leaving. Get your coat, Sarah!”
“NO, YOU LISTEN!” my dad shouted after Peter, jumping up from his chair. But Peter just ignored him and walked right past! I saw my dad clutch his chest.
The weight of the moment pressed on me as I stood slowly. My mom’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, Mom,” I said, my throat tightening. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this.”
I walked to the doorway, where Peter stood waiting, arms crossed.
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“Put your coat on! We’re leaving!” he barked.
“No,” I said, surprising myself with the strength in my voice. “You’re leaving. I’m staying.”
“What? You’re my wife. You’re supposed to listen to me!”
I took a deep breath, meeting his glare.
“You don’t respect my parents, you don’t respect me, and behaving like this, you don’t even respect yourself. I’ve put up with your selfishness for years, hoping the loving man I married was still there. But now, I don’t believe he is.”
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“You want to talk about respect?” he sputtered, disbelief written all over his face.
“Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “Leave, Peter. It’s over.”
His mouth opened, but no words came. He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
I returned to the dining room, my heart pounding, and found my parents sitting quietly, their faces a mixture of sadness and concern.
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“I’m sorry, Mom. Dad,” I said, my voice soft but resolute.
“I let this go on for too long. But not anymore.”
Charlotte stood and wrapped me in a warm hug. “You’re home now. That’s all that matters,” she whispered.
For the first time in years, I felt free. I had chosen the family that truly mattered and wouldn’t trade them for anything.
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Lorenzo Lamas from ‘Falcon Crest’: Age, height, family, children, net worth
You could say Lorenzo Lamas was always destined to become an actor. His parents worked in the industry, and it didn’t take long before he entered it himself.
Lamas has starred in classics such as the television series Falcon Crest and the legendary film Grease. Still to this day, the California native is working as an actor – and at 65, he looks terrific!
However, Lamas’s life has had its ups and downs, and he’s gone through some rather tough times. Here’s all you need to know about Lorenzo and the many struggles he’s overcome.
One was getting over the fact that his son had an affair with his ex-wife.
Even as a young kid, Lorenzo Lamas’s stars had aligned where acting was concerned.
Born Lorenzo Fernando Lamas on January 20, 1958, in Santa Monica, California, he was raised by his mother Arlene Dahl, an American actress of Norwegian descent, and his father Fernando Lamas, an Argentinian who worked as an actor and director.
Lorenzo Lamas – early life
Lorenzo grew up in the fashionable area of Pacific Palisades, California. At age two, his parents divorced, and eight years later, he moved to New York with his father.
Lorenzo has often drawn upon the fact that his family comes from different parts of the world. He once starred as Dracula in a Halloween production of the famous Bram Stoker novel and had no problem at all adopting a different accent.
“I grew up with a man who had a voice like Dracula and every other bigger-than-life character you could ever think of in my father,” he told the New York Times in 2007. “I take a little bit from him to do the accent. I’ve also done four movies in Bulgaria.”
While Lorenzo was transitioning from a kid into a young man, his father had a pretty wild lifestyle. According to Lorenzo, his father had “been with every woman.” Yet as a child, he adored him.
“I idolized my father, especially as a young boy. He was bigger than life. He commanded the room. He’d done everything, seen everything,” he told Fox. “It’s pretty heady stuff to grow up with.”
“He was Latin, he was very judgmental, he thought a woman’s place was in the kitchen. He just happened to marry a woman who was a top ten box office star of the ’50s, and she retired to serve him!”
First work in acting
Lorenzo’s father married actress Esther Williams in 1969, a year after their move to “The Big Apple,” and life for Lorenzo got tough at times. For example, when Esther’s children visited, Lorenzo wasn’t even allowed to sleep in the house!
“He was many things, but he was also fair, so if he wasn’t going to allow another man’s children in his house, then he couldn’t allow me in the house,” he recalled.
“So my roommate was a Rolls Royce. I had a key that let me in the backdoor where there was a guest bathroom. But I came from military school, so living in a garage in Beverly Hills was plush to me. I had shared a urinal with 30 guys for the last four years. Looking back, I know that’s not normal. I know that I would never do that to my kids. I run my three teenage daughters around like a chauffeur.”
Lorenzo Lamas attended private school and graduated from the Admiral Farragut Academy in 1975. Instead of staying on the East Coast, he decided to leave for his home state of California.
Though his father could be a strict man, he always encouraged his son to follow his dreams and backed him wholeheartedly in pursuing his dreams of becoming an actor. Lorenzo enrolled at Tony Barr’s Film Actors Workshop. In 1977, he got his first minor role in television, starring in two episodes of the show Switch.
While cultivating his acting talent, Lorenzo also found that he had a tremendous interest in martial arts. He got in shape – and later on, earned black belts in both taekwondo and karate.
Lorenzo Lamas in ‘Grease’
Now, getting roles in bigger productions often takes time for most actors. Some have to try out at hundreds of auditions to get one part; others have to wait years, maybe even decades, to land their first role in a more significant Hollywood production.
For Lorenzo Lamas, however, this wasn’t the case. In 1978, he was cast as the good-looking stud “Tom Chisum” in the legendary film Grease, featuring John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John. He played the boyfriend of Olivia Newton-John’s character, “Sandy”. That said, he initially wasn’t chosen for the part.
Steven Ford – son of former President Gerald Ford – was considered for the role, but was reportedly too nervous to play “Tom”. The part had no dialogue, but that didn’t bother Lorenzo when he got the gig.
People probably knew that the film had potential at the time, but even so, it’s safe to say that Lamas secured himself an extraordinary place in film history with his relatively small credit in Grease.
“I’m amazed by the longevity. It keeps finding new generations of people,” he told Studio 10.
Lorenzo had dark hair at the time, but the producers thought he looked too much like a “T-Bird” to star as Sandy’s boyfriend. As a result, they dyed his hair lighter – something that he didn’t mind at all.
“I would have dyed it green, fuchsia, anything,” he told People.
At the time, John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John were already stars. For Lorenzo Lamas, it was a dream come true just to meet them. What made the whole thing even better, was that Olivia Newton-Jon had been Lorenzo’s childhood crush.
Became a star on ‘Falcon Crest’
“I was 19. It was only the third thing I’ve ever done. And I was at the Paramount lot, meeting my childhood crush, Olivia Newton-John, and Mr. Saturday Night Fever, John Travolta. So I was kind of in a complete zombie state, to begin with,” Lorenzo recalled.
He explained that he had all her albums, and in high school, he and his friends even had routines dancing to her albums. When they finally met, Lorenzo was almost knocked off his heels.
“I couldn’t take my eyes off her,” he told Studio 10.
Grease was, of course, a big deal for Lorenzo and a fantastic opportunity when looking back. Naturally, though, it wasn’t quite a breakthrough since he only appeared in a few scenes.
In 1981, he got the role of Lance Cumson on Falcon Crest. The nighttime soap became a huge success, with Lamas starring alongside Oscar-winning actress Jane Wyman for 228 episodes.
Wyman portrayed Lamas’ grandmother on the show – at that time, she was a massive Hollywood star. Lamas had problems with illegal substances at this point in his career, until one day on set, Wyman had enough of his behavior
Became a star on ‘Falcon Crest’
“I was 19. It was only the third thing I’ve ever done. And I was at the Paramount lot, meeting my childhood crush, Olivia Newton-John, and Mr. Saturday Night Fever, John Travolta. So I was kind of in a complete zombie state, to begin with,” Lorenzo recalled.
He explained that he had all her albums, and in high school, he and his friends even had routines dancing to her albums. When they finally met, Lorenzo was almost knocked off his heels.
“I couldn’t take my eyes off her,” he told Studio 10.
Grease was, of course, a big deal for Lorenzo and a fantastic opportunity when looking back. Naturally, though, it wasn’t quite a breakthrough since he only appeared in a few scenes.
In 1981, he got the role of Lance Cumson on Falcon Crest. The nighttime soap became a huge success, with Lamas starring alongside Oscar-winning actress Jane Wyman for 228 episodes.
Wyman portrayed Lamas’ grandmother on the show – at that time, she was a massive Hollywood star. Lamas had problems with illegal substances at this point in his career, until one day on set, Wyman had enough of his behavior
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