Chapter 59: Getting Closer

April 4, 1981

Angie went to see Dr. Stanton. I don’t know what they said, but I know she seemed happy when she came home. I felt weird about not going, but it was better for her to go by herself sometimes. There was still no explaining why I would need regular sessions for myself.

April 5, 1981

Nancy greeted me with a big hug and kiss at study group. “Hi!”

“Hi, Nancy!” I hugged her right back. “What’d your parents think?”

“Dad likes you. Much more than he liked Bill. But I like you a lot more than I liked Bill, so that goes to show he has good taste. Mom’s impressed, too, but she just wants me to be happy. She was fine with Bill, as far as that went.”

“Shall we?” I offered my arm.

“Yes, indeed!” She took it and we headed downstairs.

We all rehashed the dance. Most everyone had a good time. Except, of course, Jimmy. He’d been fine with his date. But just ‘fine’. No spark. A little peck on the lips. Little chance of a repeat. I figured it was partly his fault, in that his heart was at the other table. He’d be fine if he and Connie were really over. But in limbo? If you’re fine when your relationship is in limbo, your relationship isn’t in limbo, it’s dead. It might come back, but it’s not just ‘in limbo’.

All Nancy and I did was study together. And chat a bit. And smooch, just a little. And hold hands. Nothing deep, no great life plans worked out.

But I still felt closer. And it seemed like she did, too.

April 7, 1981

Just after arriving at study group, hanging out in the driveway with Mike, Rita rolled up. What I saw made me smile. I gave Ang a nudge, and she turned and looked. “Yay!”

Jimmy and Connie were holding hands again. They caught our reaction, and both flashed grins our way. Connie said, “We’ll talk about it when everyone’s here, but, you have the right impression.” She giggled, and they headed down. Mike looked a little down, which surprised me.

Once everyone was there, Connie stood. “We, um ... wanted to thank you for not pressuring us. It’s, well, my parents pushed me to date, um... ‘inside our culture.’ Meaning a Vietnamese boy. It got so bad that I agreed, and Jimmy and I split temporarily. Then, well, you met Daniel. He meant well, but ... Ugh. I gave up last night and had it out with them and told them, ‘You find me a Vietnamese boy who’s as nice and caring and sweet and smart as Jimmy and then I’ll try again. But until that, why do you want me to lower my standards just because of what someone looks like?’ That got to them. And it’s not like Vietnam doesn’t have a long history of dating ‘outside the culture’. A lot of the country is half-French, and, of course, all the half-American kids. Daniel’s like a third French when you add up all the pieces. It’s just stupid!”

Jimmy added, “Don’t let Connie take all the blame. I kinda screwed up a bit on Valentine’s Day. We already worked that out, but it affected things. Thanks, everyone, for being there for us.”

Then we got bad news. Sarah and Mike announced they’d split. I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t even see where they saw it. Parental pressure? Not on Mike’s side. Most likely something they wouldn’t share.

Besides relationships, not much else was going on, at least. No tournament. Last dance over. Not a bad thing, with the week full of exams for the end of the fifth six weeks.

9:30pm

Angie came in and flopped in the bed, rubbing noses, smiling. “I’m so happy Connie and Jimmie worked it out!”

“Me too, Sis.”

“So proud of Connie, too. Telling her parents off like that. We did that, you know?”

“Did we?”

“I’m certain we did. Not just you and me, all of us, but that’s also you and me. She was a little mouse when we met her. She lost that with us after a bit, but I’m guessing she had it with parents until recently. Standing up to them over Jimmy is a huge thing for her. And really good.”

I shook my head. “She had it in her all along.”

“Well ... yes. And Iceberg Steve had it in him to be you. What gets out is more important than what’s inside. All the potential in the world is meaningless if it just stays buried inside.”

“You have a point there.”

“I know.” She wiggled her chest. “And two there.”

“Very nice ones. So ... couples. One step forward, one step back. What do you think about Mike and Sarah?”

“I don’t know what their problem is. They need to pull their heads out of their asses, take some damn naps, and get back to loving each other. They’re way too good a couple to let some teenage angst bullshit fuck them up.”

“I agree. Too soon to say anything about Nancy and I, and you and Gene even less so.”

“You two are too new, and I’m still deciding on Gene. Leaning towards yes.”

I wondered how I’d handle interviewing my old friend (who didn’t know me) if she invited him. “Sounds good. Connie and Jimmy we’ve covered.”

“Still wedding bells. And before you get there, I have no clue about Emily and the twins except ... maybe? They might have a chance, as unusual as that whole thing is.”

“Marcus and Debbie?”

“I ... don’t know. I hope they’re fine, but we’ll see. They’re the ones I’d most expect to split up. Neither of them is as mature as the rest of us, I think, and when Mark and Morty are in that mix, it’s saying something. Even though they’ve matured a lot.”

“You have no idea, comparing it to my first go-round.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know them much, but my memories agree it’s a big change.” She stretched, which emphasized her points. “Tired, Steve. Bedtime.”

“I’m tired too, Ang.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

A few wiggles and she was gone.

April 8, 1981

Cammie didn’t see it either.

“Hey, Steve? What do you think of Mike and Sarah?”

“I think it sucks. They’re perfect for each other. Yeah, OK, they’re, what, both fifteen now? Way too young to stop looking, I guess. But still.”

“It’s just a bummer.”

“Yeah. I feel like, you know. Cheating. Wandering eye. Moving. Incompatible college goals. Meanness. Arguing. None of that seems like them.”

“The thing is, it makes me think about Mel and me. And the thought of losing her hurts.”

“I hope you don’t.”

“Me too, Steve. Me, too. OK. Give me some cheerful news. You and Nancy?”

“Who knows? So far, so good. We’re just dating, taking it slowly.”

She grinned. “She knows what she wants.”

“We’ll see.”

“Yeah. We will.”

April 9, 1981

I caught up with Nancy at English. “Hey, interested in lunch tomorrow? Just the mall, unless you’ve got something in mind transportation-wise?”