Chapter 2: First week of classes

Saturday was moving day so Megan and I didn't even consider running. After a continental breakfast of orange juice, cereal, toast and coffee, we set off in different cars. Charlie and Debra went to the hardware store for cleaning supplies. Megan and I were to stop by the landlord's house to pick up the key and open the house up.

As I took Main Street to River, I kept noticing Megan leaning over to check the odometer.

"It's a mile from my apartment to River Road and about another half mile to Luke's cabinet shop," I said.

The placid look that I was becoming accustomed to seeing returned to her face. "So, we'll be increasing the distance between our beds from three feet to a mile and a half," she said with a little grin on that face as I looked over at her.

"You did move your sleeping bag closer to me," I said, accusingly.

"I thought it would be easier to talk," she said, smiling.

"But we didn't talk," I said.

"We said enough," she bantered back.

Thinking of what we'd said to each other was making me uneasy. She'd asked if I was glad that it was our last night sleeping in the same room, and I'd answered that I was relieved. "Me too," she'd said.

"Sammy, you're driving right by the house!" Megan exclaimed. And then, "Do I distract you?"

"Yes," I said.

"I'm sorry."

I drove for another two blocks, letting her think that she was the cause for me passing the house, and then I pulled over to the curb. "This must be the landlord's house," I said.

I ran to the front door, got the key, and came back to the car. Megan was still blushing from thinking that she affected me so much that I'd forgotten where I was. We didn't talk until we were stopping in front of the house.

"This is so ... I'm usually not this way ... we're going to have to be super careful," she said.

"I know," I said, getting out of the car.

"We'll just ... we'll just go our separate ways ... and ... we'll still run together, won't we?"

"Yes." We were walking to the front door.

"And there's the class we have together."

"Yes." I was opening the door.

"I won't come to your Friday night pizza and beer parties," she offered. I let her enter the house ahead of me.

"That wouldn't be fair to you, and it wouldn't be fair to Debra. Hell, it wouldn't be fair to me, either," I said, following her inside.

"It wouldn't?" she asked, turning to look at me.

It was like the first time we met, only two days before. She was dressed the same, shorts, sneakers, and T-shirt, only now she had a bandana wrapped around her forehead.

Neither of us had actually put our attraction for each other into words. I decided it would be best if we kept it that way. "Those people moved in and moved out without doing a fucking thing, didn't they?" I asked, looking around at how dirty the house looked inside.

"You're right, those people didn't do a fucking thing," she said, and we burst into laughter, knowing the tension had passed.

"Let's take it room by room. We'll start in here," I said, picking up two kitchen chairs and moving them into the living room.

"The Commander's already taking over," Charlie said from the doorway, having overheard me. Megan was right behind me with the other two chairs.

"Sorry, Charlie, this is your house. What would you like for me to do?" I asked.

"You can help move the furniture and then start on the windows. Deb's going to work on the kitchen and I'll mop the floors. You can help move the furniture back as I finish a room," he said.

I was impressed with his organizational skills, but I didn't comment because he might have thought I was being sarcastic.

"What do you want me to do?" Megan asked.

Charlie was reluctant to tell her what he wanted her to do. Debra spoke up. "Would you mind cleaning the bathroom, Meg?"

Megan laughed. "Give me a scrubber. Those people probably didn't do a fucking thing in the john, either," she said, winking at me.

I helped Charlie move the kitchen table into the living room and then started on the windows, washing the outside first. When I couldn't reach the top of the window, I used one of the kitchen chairs. When I got around to the bathroom window, I saw Megan scrubbing the tile in the shower. I knocked on the window and she turned, smiling like she had expected me to knock.

Each time Charlie called me, I'd go inside to help him move the heavy pieces. When I made it all the way around the outside, Charlie had finished with the floors, Megan had finished cleaning the bathroom, and Debra had lined the kitchen cabinets. She'd also cleaned the sink and counter top. While Debra, Megan and I washed the windows on the inside, Charlie went to pick up sandwiches and sodas for lunch.

While we were eating, they talked about how they would use the third bedroom, where they would place the telephone, and what kitchen utensils they would need. I stayed out of it, already having had Charlie refer to me as the Commander once that morning.

"How are you going to manage on your own, Sammy?" Debra asked.

"Besides cleaning and laundry, there's shopping and cooking."

"I haven't given it any thought," I admitted, realizing that this was the first time I was going to be living alone. Charlie had lived with me for two years and there had been Shirley, Gladys and, later, Kelley on weekends.

Megan asked me to help turn the mattress on her bed. I could tell that she had something on her mind. We had the mattress standing on its edge and couldn't see each other. "I still want you to show me the river route, but after that ... you prefer to run at night and I like early mornings," she said.

"I run in the morning," I countered, pulling the mattress to me so it would tip her way.

She let it fall and we moved the mattress several times, adjusting the corners to line up with the box-springs below. We didn't look at each other until the match was perfect.

"I never know what time I'm going out. I don't want to abide by a schedule. I don't believe you do either," she said, watching me closely as she made her case.

"There's always the telephone. You could call or I could call you," I said, not ready to give up.

"I think my way would be better, and I know you think the same."

"I understand what you're saying and I agree, but the river route may be dangerous," I said, remembering seeing guys fishing along the river bank when Shirley and I used to run together.

"I'll be careful. I always am," she said.

"Damn it! Megan, why are you being like Kelley? Can't you see that I don't want you to run alone?"

"Show me the route tomorrow, and let me decide if it's dangerous," she said.

"Okay," I said, not wanting to argue with her. I had to admit that she had a point. The river route was not nearly as dangerous as what might happen if we ran together every other morning.

We went back to the apartment to get their belongings. I called Kelley while they were packing. I told her that we'd been cleaning the house, and that I was going to help them move their stuff.

"How was the pizza party?" she asked.

"Great, everyone showed up. Skip is already feeling sorry for himself because Laura isn't with him this year."

"Did Megan enjoy herself?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"What are you going to do tonight?" she asked.

"Sit around and feel sorry for myself. What are you going to do?" I asked.

"The same as you, honey. Is it okay if I call you?"

"I'd like that."

"What did Victor say when you told him that he can't live there?"

"I haven't told him yet. He knew that he couldn't stay last night because Megan was here. I'll tell him next time I see him."

"Am I being unreasonable?"

"No, I know your reasons for not wanting him here."

"It's only when I'm there that I don't want him watching me walk around naked. It's okay with me if you let him stay on weekends when I'm not there."

"You're the best, Kelley. Victor's going to be working for Luke on Saturdays, and I know he'd prefer to come here than have to walk to and from the dorm."

"I only want what's best for you, sweetheart. Maybe he can help out with the cleaning."

"That's a good idea. Debra was just asking how I'm going to manage everything."

"Have you talked to Marcie yet?"

"Of course not, I called you first."

"I'll let you go so you can talk to her," Kelley said, making me wonder what had gotten into her as we hung up. Had she done something that she didn't want to tell me about?

I looked into my room to see if everything had been carried out to the cars and saw Debra and Megan were making my bed.

"It's the least we could do," Debra said.

"I wanted to turn your mattress, but Deb wouldn't hear of it," Megan laughed.

"You can turn my mattress any time you want," I said.

Debra shrugged her shoulders. "You guys should get a room."

Megan looked at me, and we laughed together, both talking at the same time. "You misunderstood, Deb."

"Right," Deborah Simmons said, ending the conversation.

I helped them move their stuff and went back to the apartment, wanting to be alone. Marcie wasn't much help. I made the mistake of telling her about Megan, and found that she already knew about her. Kelley had told Suzanne and Suzanne had told Marcie about Megan. Somehow, Suzanne had heard something in Kelley's voice and translated it to mean that I was infatuated with Megan.

Marcie kept saying, 'poor Sammy' and 'how do you let yourself get into these situations'? She was scolding me, not being sympathetic at all.

"Tell me about Adam Corning," I said, wanting to change the subject.

"He hasn't called today," she said.

"When are you going to see him?" I asked.

"Tonight."

"You really are being silly to think he'll call when he's going to see you tonight. Is he staying over?"

"Do you think I should?" she asked, turning my question into one of her own.

"Marcie, you're the only one that can answer that question. If you have to think about it, the answer is no. If you don't have to think, the answer is yes."

"How can you be so cold and calculating at a time like this, Sammy Oldham? You're supposed to be supportive and..."

"I love you more than anything, Marcie. How much more supportive can I be?"

"You're supposed to tell me what to do," she said, obviously ready to cry at any moment.

"You're the second girl that's reminded me of Kelley today. You know what you can do with your tent, don't you?"

She actually laughed and I began to feel better until she returned to the subject of Megan.

"What if you find out that she's really not blond? Will there be irreparable damage to your psyche?

"Believe me, there's no question ... wait ... I haven't spoken to Suzanne and Kelley wasn't especially impressed when I told her Megan was blond. You're all making more of this than it warrants."

"Would you like for me to talk to Kelley, sweetie? I can assure her that you may be dumb, but you're not stupid."

"You stay out of this, Marcie. I'm perfectly capable of talking to my girlfriend."

We agreed that we were both useless when it came to advising one another and ended the call, laughing of course.

Kelley called later that night and I heard nothing in her voice that made me think she was even suspicious that I had feelings for Megan. "I can't wait to see you," she said when we said goodbye. I told her that the next two weeks were going to be the longest of my life.

Should I talk to Suzanne? She was the culprit. I'd never heard her profess that she possessed mental telepathy talents. Was she listening too intently, or was she hearing what she wanted to hear? I decided to take a wait and see attitude and went to bed, alone.

I got up early and showed Megan the river route. It was more unsafe than I remembered, not because of the occasional fisherman that eyed her as we passed, but because of how the river had eroded the path since Shirley and I had been on it.

She told me more about her boyfriend as we ran. Mel was living at home and working for his father as an automobile salesman. She said that Mel was ambitious. "He has plans to take over the dealership before he reaches thirty," she said.

"What made you major in business?" I asked.

"It wasn't my idea. I'm doing it for my father. He was disappointed when my brother joined the Navy. My dad let me know that I'm expected to take over the family business," she said, nearly stopping when she spotted a tree that had fallen across the path. I looked back and watched her hop over the tree and follow me up an incline.

"What kind of business is it?"

"He's a business broker," she said.

"Oh," I said, not knowing what a business broker was.

"My dad helps people go into business. He either matches them with a business that's for sale, or he helps them set up a business that suits their personality and skills."

"That sounds interesting," I said, just to keep her talking, but she wasn't enthusiastic about the career her father had selected for her.

"My dad started grooming me to take over when my brother got the appointment to the academy," she said.

"And you'd prefer to do what, be a stay-at-home mom and raise kids?" I asked.

"I don't know what I want. We plan on waiting until I'm twenty-five and Mel's twenty-six to get married. That will give me three years to fit into my Dad's business."

I looked back and saw that she was concentrating on the obstacles in the path and decided not to comment. Who was I to advise someone about career choice or when she should get married?

I waited until we were nearing their house to mention the dangers of the path along the river. "I really don't recommend running that route," I said.

"I told you that I'm careful," she said, showing irritation with me.

Well, I didn't argue with her. If she wanted to be obstinate, I'd let her do as she pleased. I had my hands full convincing Kelley to listen to me when I made suggestions.

Megan thanked me, and I left to play tennis, thinking that we had an understanding: an 'I'll see you when I see you' agreement.

Zelda and I took on all comers the next two days. We got so involved with finding out which freshmen had potential that we missed lunch in the cafeteria. I took her to a sandwich shop where our tennis togs wouldn't offend anyone.

"When's Kelley coming to visit?" she asked as she unwrapped her turkey sandwich and took a bite.

"A week from next Friday, twelve days from now," I said, already looking forward to seeing her step off the plane.