Chapter 85: A Day Away

July 5, 1981

We spent the day browsing through stores, Marshall Field’s in particular, and walking around downtown. We visited the Picasso statue after Field’s, then headed to a small dock on a spur of the river and boarded a sightseeing boat. The tour guide was lively and informative, cracking jokes and explaining the significance of various buildings, construction styles, and so forth. He told stories of things like how one person had dug the wrong way and flooded a bunch of downtown basements and tunnels, or another, years later, made a mistake that caused a project massive delays. Or how buildings had been repurposed over the years. I enjoyed it; Angie, of course, loved it. For all that she said she didn’t want to study architecture — and I believed her — it seemed to be a passion of hers.

After the tour, we headed to a local restaurant near the hotel for Greek food. Again, the cuisine was new to Mom and Dad; again, they loved it. “My, these are good!” Mom said, tasting the spanakopita.

“They’re not too hard to make, either. If you have philo dough, anyway. And you can buy that,” I replied.

The highlight was unquestionably the saganaki. Both Mom and Dad love cheese, and, hey, Angie and I do too. Combining something we like with dramatic flames at tableside? Hopa!

Neither of them were fans of Greek olives. Since they have a pretty strong flavor, I expected that. They’re not my favorite, either; I sometimes have trouble with things that are particularly bitter.

We finished about 7pm and headed out. I was suspicious when Dad led us in a direction that wasn’t ideal for getting back to the hotel, but said nothing. I was pretty sure Angie caught it, too, from a look she gave me. Mom? Not the best at directions when driving in familiar places or reading a map. She wouldn’t have caught it if we were headed directly away from the hotel.

I wasn’t prepared for our destination, though. Nor was Angie. I’d have said it was a gamble, but we’d provided the clues a couple months back. Turning a corner, we were suddenly in front of a theater hosting a Broadway touring company of ‘Annie’. Dad produced tickets from his pocket.

“Sam! We’re going to a show? But I’m not dressed for the theater!” Mom protested.

“Look around. No one is dressed up. We’re dressed casually but nice; that’ll fit right in.”

He was right. Almost no one wore anything fancy. Jeans and t-shirts were more prevalent than suits.

Angie giggled. “Well, I’m glad I wore something fairly nice. Though, I suppose bringing the orphan to ‘Annie’ in rags would’ve been appropriate!”

“Orphan no more!” I grinned, “Thanks to Daddy Notsomanywarbucks.”

“I could definitely use more of those!”

We headed in. Dad had gotten mezzanine seats with a nice view. We got seated and watched the crowd.

Angie smiled. “I’m only one letter off, you know.”

“And hair color.”

“Well, yes. But it’s funny.”

“It definitely is.”

Dad smiled. “I hope this isn’t going to cause trouble for either of you.”

We both smiled. “I don’t think so. I’ve heard the story and it seems like something I’ll like,” Angie said.

“Me, too. And it’s been a while since we’ve been to the theater, Dad. Last time was ... um ... a field trip, I think.”

“Yes, me, too. We went somewhere downtown. But not here.”

“We should go more often,” Mom said. “I loved the show at the high school, and I like the theater, both musicals and plays, but we never seem to make time for it. Or pay attention. I think if we tried it’s something we’d all like.”

“Me, too.” “Yes!”

The show started, and we were off. I like musicals, as noted before, and am not ashamed to admit it. And I like ‘Annie’. Which, of course, I could not have seen. That required careful attention to not appearing to know what was about to happen or anything like that. I had a great time, though, and I could tell Angie did as well.

We walked back, after, talking about the show. Mom kept trying to make sure Dad didn’t have any further tricks. Also, she wanted to know how we’d deal with the car being parked in downtown Houston.

“I suppose that’s a further trick. A couple friends of mine volunteered to go pick it up, drive it to the airport, and let me know where they parked it. Which they did. So, it’ll be waiting for us at the airport. They’ll give me the extra set of keys next week.”

“Sneaky, Dad! Good job!” Angie grinned.

“I’m impressed, but try to keep the number of surprises down!” Mom laughed.

“When we get back, I’ll look into what shows we might be able to see,” Dad said. “There are some pretty good shows at the Alley, plus Theater Under The Stars, and who knows what else? And Memorial usually has a couple productions, plus other schools. Now that I know you’re interested, maybe we can do more things like this.”

“I’d love that, honey,” Mom smiled. “It’s another thing we can do as a family. I hadn’t wanted to drag the kids if they’d be bored, but clearly, they won’t be!”

“I love the theater! Daddy Frank and I used to go sometimes; less often than I’d like, but enough that I liked it.”

“And I do, too; I didn’t just get tickets to ‘Oklahoma!’ because Ms. Smith was pushing them. I wanted to see it. Of course, we didn’t exactly do that as a family.”

“Yes, we did, son,” Mom smiled. “It’s not like we’d talk through the show, and we went there together, left together, and talked about it and all. I’d say it counts, even if you sat with your friends and we sat with the other parents.”

“Sounds like it’s a plan,” Dad said. “I’m even happier that I thought of doing this now. And that we could get tickets!”

Ang and I headed right to bed upon our return. We had a late morning flight, which meant a surprisingly late (by 2021 standards) appearance at the airport to check luggage, even factoring in security, which I was expecting to appear to me to be ridiculously lax. Angie didn’t have the post-9/11 perspective, and I’d refrained from filling her in on the details. Knowing something really bad happened had been enough, for now.

We rubbed noses, snuggling.

“Back home, tomorrow, big brother.”

“Yes. And we should try to — mostly — keep to our own beds.”

“Yeah. And that’s OK. This has been magical. I’m not sure if it would stay magical if it was an everyday thing. Or that we could avoid ... misbehaving. Or, well, a lot of things might not work. But we shouldn’t stop either. Once a week, maybe. Not any set day, just, when it’s ... right.”

“I like that. Mom won’t expect us to go back to normal, I think.”

“Not that we’re normal.”

“Consider yourself whapped.”

“OK,” she giggled.

“I do want to get back. We have just enough time to get through Driver’s Ed, and I have a bunch of stuff to do at the library.”

“I still haven’t committed, in my mind. But I want to come along when you research. No matter what, learning library skills would be nice. Mine are non-existent.”

“And mine are very, very rusty.”

“We’re going with others?”

“Pretty sure Cammie, Janet, and Lizzie, at least.”

“So, three lesbians, one bi chick, and the guy who’s had interest from at least half of them.”

“I literally had never thought of it that way.”

“Of course you didn’t. Any other guy would have been drooling.”

“Which would’ve disqualified him from their interest.”

“True. Night, big brother. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sis.”

July 6, 1981

I was right. Airport security in 1981 is shockingly lax from a 2021 perspective. I spent too much time imagining how easy it would be to get dangerous objects through the system.

The plane itself was fine, and the ride was pleasantly boring. Airplane service was much, much better, and I didn’t feel like a sardine. Angie and I held hands for takeoffs and landings. Both of us snapped a few pictures out the windows, using up some of the remaining pictures on our cameras. Since she had the window seat, I had to lean over her to take pictures. It’s not my fault that resulted in her boobs pressing against me, is it? Especially since I caught her leaning a bit forward a couple of times.