Chapter 16: Freshman Summer of 1990

Alice met me at the door on Saturday afternoon and told me her daughter would be right down.

"She's nervous about what you're going to say to her," Alice said.

"I wish I knew what I was going to say, myself."

Alice studied me, her cheek twitching like she was going to smile before her eyes shifted to my tie. "She'll be pleased that you wore the blazer; you look very nice."

Brenda came down the stairs, dressed in a white pinafore with pink rabbits, white stockings and black patent leather shoes. Her hair was in pigtails, secured by ribbons that matched the rabbits. She did look nervous until she saw my jaw drop and then she smiled.

"Who's this lovely creature?"

"It's me, silly," Brenda laughed openly.

We made it to the front door before Alice stopped us.

"Wait, I want to take a picture," she said. We posed, me holding her hand, while Alice snapped three pictures before I stopped her saying we would be late if we didn't leave soon.

She laughed, "But this is so special. Every mom wants pictures of her daughter going on her first date."

"My mom makes me ride in the backseat," Brenda said as I was making sure her seatbelt was buckled.

"Your mom's not driving today, is she?" I asked and watched her smile, shyly.

We waved to Alice who was standing on the steps, acting more nervous than Brenda or me.

"Are we going to see a movie?"

"No, we're going to an ice cream shop where we can talk. You can't talk in the movies."

Brenda became quiet, like she was contemplating what we would talk about.

I ordered for both of us; a scoop of chocolate and a scoop of vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup, whipped cream and a cherry on top.

Brenda covered her dress with napkins before digging her spoon into the whipped cream.

"Do you always bring your dates here?" she asked.

"Yes, I like it here."

"Have you ever kissed a girl?" She wasn't quite eight years old but the question didn't surprise me as much as the way she held her spoon in the air, waiting for my answer.

"Yes."

"What was it like?"

"Kissing?"

"Yes, silly," she said, laughing at me.

"Do this," I said, placing the cherry between my lips. She picked up her cherry and did the same.

"Hold it between your lips, gently. Now, roll it around... roll it gently... don't let it fall out... move it around... like that... you've got it... no, don't eat... you just swallowed your boyfriend's lips."

Brenda giggled, and I swallowed my cherry too.

"Can I try it again?" she asked.

I had the waitress bring us more cherries and we both amused ourselves, rolling the cherries between our lips until the ice cream began to melt.

"Is that how it feels when my mom kisses Carter?"

"I don't know. I've never kissed Carter."

Brenda looked at me, questioning, her eyes widened and then narrowed before she giggled. She soon tired of playing with the cherries and concentrated on eating her ice cream.

I got her to tell me about school, her friends and what she thought third grade would be like. I believe that she was relieved when the date was over and we hadn't gotten around to talking about her mother's engagement, how she felt about the marriage or what she thought about Carter being her daddy.

She insisted that I give her a goodbye kiss. I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. She put her arms around my neck and held on to me. "I love you, Sammy," she said.

"I love you too, Brenda. Tell your mom we'll have another date when I come back from California."

She let go of me and watched as I stood up straight. "Is that when we'll talk?"

"Yes," I answered, still not sure what I would say but at least I had bought myself some time.

Shirley gave me the third degree in bed that night.

"Are you going to be good?"

"Yes."

"Will you miss me?"

"Yes."

"Will you send me mushy emails and say mushy stuff when you call me?"

"Yes."

"What will you say?"

"I don't know."

"Let's practice. I want to make sure you know how to write mushy stuff."

She shifted her weight, rose up and gazed down at me. I felt her bare thigh touch mine and tried to ignore the feeling it was giving me.

"Okay, here it goes. Did you receive the email I sent today?"

"Yes, thank you for sending it."

"Did you memorize it?"

"Yes, every word."

"What did I write?"

She jumped out of bed and tromped around the room, muttering under her breath. "You're trying to trick me into telling you what to write."

"You said you read my email. What did I write?"

She sat down on the bed and stroked my hair. "I thought of you often today. I missed you and last night I missed having you sleep on top of me. I can't wait until we're together again."

She stopped talking but continued to stroke my hair.

"I missed you today. I can't wait until we're together again. I can't wait until September the thirtieth," I said and felt her hand come down on my head, hard.

The next thing I knew she was back under the covers, kissing me. "I can't wait either," she whispered before falling asleep.

It was harder to say goodbye than I ever imagined it would be. We promised to email each other every day and to talk on the phone as often as possible. I turned to wave goodbye from the top step but she was gone.

Neil Fenton met me at the San Francisco airport as promised. He had one of his daughters with him. Neil was about forty-five and his daughter, Cassie, was a twelve-year-old tomboy. She had her hair cut short for summer and her left arm in a cast, the result of a skateboarding accident. She was obviously proud of the cast, offering to tell me all about how she got it.

"How was your flight?" Neil asked.

"Okay, I guess. That was the first time I've been on an airplane," I answered.

"I've been on lots of planes," Cassie was quick to inform me.

I got my first look at the building where I would be working as we drove by it on the way to Neil's apartment. He pointed out the trailer in front of the building, saying it was his office. We didn't stop.

Neil, with his wife and two daughters, lived in a new apartment complex not far from the building under construction. He introduced me to Mrs. Fenton, who told me to call her Doris and to Claudia, who didn't tell me to call her anything. Claudia, as I learned later from Cassie, was seventeen and had a boyfriend that her parents didn't approve of.

Neil directed me to another apartment across the hall. In addition to a large room, which was equipped with file cabinets, a drawing table, blueprint machine and a computer, there was a small kitchen and my bedroom.

From the large room, the new building could be seen at a distance, and with the help of binoculars, you could see the security guard roaming around inside.

The rest of the apartment was rather Spartan as my room only had a small bed and, aside from the toaster over and refrigerator, the kitchen only contained a few dishes, glasses and utensils. Neil apologized for the lack of furniture, but I assured him that I was used to living in dormitories where storage space was limited.

Before leaving, Neil reminded me that I would be taking my meals with his family and that dinner would be served at six o'clock.

"May I use the telephone, Sir?" I asked Neil as he headed toward the door.

"Certainly, feel free to use the phone and the computer; this is your place for the summer," he said.

Cassie hung around and listened to my conversation.

"Hi, I'm here," I said when Suzanne answered the phone. After I told her I had arrived safely, she called Shirley to the phone. I gave her my new phone number and we talked for several minutes, telling the other that we missed them, over and over, until finally we said goodbye.

"Was that your girlfriend?" Cassie asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you have a picture of her?"

"Yes, I have a few. Would you like to see them?"

"Wow, she's beautiful! May I take this one to show Claudia?"

"Why would Claudia want to see what my girlfriend looks like?"

"She wouldn't. I just want to show her Shirley's picture so she'll know you're not available," Cassie said. I laughed and told her she could borrow one of my favorite pictures; Shirley, wearing the yellow bikini.

At dinner I caught Claudia watching me, twice. After dinner the girls were told to clear the table. Cassie complained that the cast prevented her from reaching very far but she was told to do the best she could. She winced and then winked at me.

I didn't tell Shirley about my living arrangements until Saturday, when we talked on the phone. "There are two girls. The little one has a crush on me but the older one hasn't said two words. Doris is friendly but she doesn't talk much either. I believe they're all concerned about what I'll say to Mr. Oldham," I told her.

We talked about other things. I told her about the work I was doing, mainly running up and down the stairs to deliver messages to the contractors and cleaning up construction debris. After my first week on the job I was settled in, knew what was expected of me and felt like I was picking up a lot of knowledge. I told her about Neil being a workaholic. "You would think it was his building from the way he keeps track of the contractors."

We also talked about what Shirley was doing at the home office. She had moved up from filing to statistical work, having convinced the vice president that she was qualified.

She soon tired of talking about her work. "Where are those mushy emails you promised me?"

"I'll do better."

She laughed. "I see right through you. Those sneaky subliminal suggestions of yours don't go unnoticed. Is September the thirtieth all you think about?"

"Yes."

She laughed again before whispering, "Me too."

I tried to make my emails to her as 'mushy' as possible but I wasn't very good at it. She wrote that she looked forward to my emails and our weekly telephone calls. I knew her nights and weekends must be boring. That was why I was excited to learn that Marcy was coming for a sleepover where they would meet face to face for the first time and Shirley would have someone to hang out with for the weekend.

Hell, my nights and weekends were boring too. I was spending too much time with Neil and his family. We went to work at seven a.m., came home at five, had dinner at six and he worked until ten p.m., revising the construction budget and schedules. I felt obliged to hang around and help out where I could.

We went into the city to have dinner one Friday night. I sat in the backseat with the girls and listened to them bicker. Claudia was pissed about having to miss seeing her boyfriend and Cassie was pissed that I had to sit between them. Neil had placed me there as a buffer, I think.

Neil gave me weekends off to do what I wanted; only Cassie didn't see it that way. She knew better than to come near me until I had finished my Saturday morning telephone calls to Shirley and Marcy, but after that I was her playmate. Once she had the cast removed from her arm, we ran together, played tennis, and she took me to watch her soccer matches. I taught her how to play chess and sometimes we just talked about books and... she liked to talk about boys.

Marcy called me as soon as she got home from her weekend with Shirley. "Sammy, I'm sorry. I thought you told her everything."

"I did," I said. "I told her stuff that you don't even know. Shirley knows I told her everything."

"You didn't tell her about us," Marcy corrected me.

"Oh, shit! That wasn't... really... I didn't think..."

"What are you trying to say, that it didn't mean anything? It meant something to me."

Quickly gathering my thoughts, I lamented, "Crap! Now I've got both of you mad at me."

"Shirley's not mad but I'll have to give it some thought. I may or I may not be mad."

"Marcy, what we did together means a lot to me. It really does. I'm glad to hear you say it means something to you, too," I said, trying to appease her.

"Don't sweet-talk me, Oldham. Its Shirley you need to talk to. She's a wonderful person and you're lucky to have her. She's not mad, but I think she feels cheated right now."

"You mean she wants me to diddle her?"

Marcy laughed. "Now you're catching on. I think she wants that stuff we did on the rock, too."

"Did she say that?" I asked, not believing what I was hearing. Shirley never even let me feel her breasts, let alone go near her pussy.

"I don't know. I'm sorry I told her about the stuff we did, but now that she's heard how good it was I think she wants to try it."

"It was good, wasn't it?"

"I wish we had done more that day on the rock."

"Marcy, as I've told you before, I'm afraid that going all the way would ruin what we have together."

"Someday, Oldham, someday."

"Someday what?"

"You know," she said as she hung up.

I wrote an email to Shirley, knowing she wouldn't receive it until the next morning when she got to work.

Dearest Shirley,

This is not about September the thirtieth. This is about us and equal trust. Trust is the only thing we have to hang on to. Trust holds us together. Trust is the line we throw to the other when one of us is in danger of sinking.

Shirley, our line has a lot of knots in it to make it easier to hold on. If I've untied one of those knots, I'm sorry. It was an unintentional mistake.

Please let me work on tying more knots in our trust line.

Sammy

I didn't get a chance to open my email until Monday evening.

Dearest Sammy,

I'm not mad at you. That was the mushiest message you've ever written. It tied another knot in our trust line.

Marcy made me realize I've treated you badly. I promise to be more... trustful when you come back to me.

You're so full of... mush!

Your frigid girlfriend,

Shirley

Her emails were always short, usually confined to things that happened at work or at home. She was quite different on Saturday mornings when we spoke on the phone.

"September thirty is still a firm date... but..."

"Yes?" I asked, wondering where she was headed.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"I trust you too."

"What are you saying?"

"I was thinking that we could... you know... diddle a little?"

"We can do that if you want," I said.

She changed the subject. "Ned's taking me to a driving range tomorrow."

"That's good; my clubs are in the back of the car. You can use my drivers," I suggested.

"Thanks but Suzanne's loaning me some of her old clubs."

She changed the subject again. "We were talking about you last night."

"Oh?"

"Mr. Oldham says he may let you come home early. I think they both miss having you here."

"How early?"

"He talked about a week early. I was wondering if we could go back to school before Charlie and Angie get there. I don't want to wait until the last minute to get the apartment ready."

"Does that mean you're planning to move in with me?"

"I don't know, Sammy. What if things didn't work out? I've almost got to keep a room in the dorm just in case."

"I think you're right."

"You do?"

"Yes, I know you need the security of having the room, just in case."

For a second I thought she dropped the phone. Her voice was weak and I had trouble hearing her. "I'm so lucky to have..." Click.

I took Cassie to her soccer game. Neil let me drive his car.

"Claudia broke up with Morris," she said as she was getting out of the car. She ran off to join her teammates before I could find out what happened to make Claudia ditch her boyfriend. I had only seen him twice but I wondered what the attraction was between them in the first place.

Once it became official that I would be coming home the middle of August, Shirley began the countdown and inserting code words in her email messages.

Dearest Sammy,

There are only twelve more days until I can use your chest as my pillow. Have you made your reservation yet? Don't diddle. That would be a close shave.

I can't wait to rub your white away. I have some white you can rub away too.

Shirley

P.S. I didn't mean it that way. You can diddle. You can also rub and shave.

"Only one more week," she said when we spoke on Saturday morning.

"I have to tell you something," I said, wanting to get it over with.

"Oh, no, I don't think I like the sound of this."

"Claudia came into my room last night."

"Oh, no, were you... ?"

"It was late and I was in bed. I got up and put my clothes on. She said she wanted to talk."

I heard her sigh. "Sammy, I don't think I can... I don't think I want to hear more."

"Don't you trust me? We just talked, nothing more. Actually, we talked about you."

"Hmmm, did you tell her how sweet I am?"

"I told her we have something special together and that you're going to move in with me at school."

"Sammy, I'm your girlfriend, not your wife."

"I was just kidding. She was very interested in us though. She said she's never known anyone who wrote daily emails like we do. She just broke up with her boyfriend and I think she wanted to know more about how our relationship works."

"How was she dressed?" Shirley asked, suddenly suspicious.

"She was dressed for bed, long T-shirt and scuffs."

"Panties, too?"

"I don't know. I said the T-shirt was long."

"How long did she stay?"

"Not long. I think she was concerned that her parents would come looking for her. I shouldn't have told you."

"You were right to tell me. I'm counting the days. Are you counting the days?"

"Yes."

I told her how the building was progressing. "The San Francisco office is showing the space almost daily and we're beginning build-out for two tenants," I reported but I could tell she wasn't interested in what I was doing at work.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

"Code books, mainly," I had to admit.

"What's that?"

"There are building codes for everything in construction. The building inspectors come by periodically checking to see if we're complying with the codes. If they find something wrong it could set us back by weeks so we try to stay ahead of them."

"You're really interested in the business, aren't you?"