Chapter 103: A Change of Plans

Sunday, June 2, 1985

We left Bastrop State Park in the late morning after sleeping in a bit, enjoying the bed one (well, two) more times, having a leisurely breakfast, and then making sure we’d packed up our leftovers.

It was tempting to stay, given how relaxing it had been. Right now, though, we had places to go and things to do.

The Seilers (and Angie) would be home today. We would set out on our trip to Florida on Tuesday. Tonight and tomorrow night would be ‘everyone sleeps at their parents’ house’ nights. If all went according to plan, we would be back from Florida around the 22nd.

After that, we were off to Chicago on the 28th. Amtrak had stopped running trains from Houston to New Orleans on Saturdays (for whatever reason — Amtrak’s decisions often defied the logic mere mortals would use), so Dad had taken Friday off. We would be up there until the 7th, when we were flying back. Dad had decided to also take the 8th and 9th off as his ‘recovery’ days rather than come back earlier, which I thought was both a good idea and a step in the right direction for him.

I dropped Jas off around three, stopping to talk with Camille and Francis briefly, and was at my parents’ house by four. Angie was already there, and she was the first to hug me, with Mom and then Dad close behind.

Once we’d hugged, I asked, “How was it, Sis?”

“Terrific!” she said. “I just told Mom and Dad about it, so I’ll repeat that stuff later, but — also repeating — it was really good. The Seilers’ relatives are good people. We got a tiny bit of grief from one of the cousins who’s more our age, but that was a drop in the bucket. He’s just one of those guys who’s convinced all we need is ‘the right man’ and we’ll drop each other instantly.”

I snorted at that, and said, “I’m sure you said you already had the right person for you.”

“Heck, yes!” she said, grinning.

We headed in. I filled everyone in on our trip, except for all of the love-making and anything to do with Michael other than his name and that we’d had breakfast with him. Angie would know what meeting Michael meant. Also, she would assume the love-making. Mom and Dad might, too, but they would be fine with it as long as it wasn’t mentioned (and wasn’t under their roof).

Angie crawled into bed with me around eleven.

“Just a brief visit,” she said, rubbing noses, then kissing me.

“Brief visits are fine,” I said, smiling.

“It really was a good trip,” she said, sighing. “I worried, but ... yeah. I think — I really think — they accepted Paige being with me and this being our future. There are a few who I suspect weren’t thrilled, but they didn’t say anything bad or anything. Most were warm and welcoming, but a few ... yeah, it was just, ‘Well, okay, then,’ more or less. I got the feeling some of them also thought it might be a ‘phase’ or something. Which, I mean, I get it. I’m not even nineteen yet! To everyone else, this feels like some ‘teen romance,’ and you know how those go.”

“I do,” I said, nodding. “As with so many other things, I’m pretty sure we’re a special case.”

“We’re a very special case!” she said, giggling.

“See anything fun?” I said.

“Yeah, actually. Even someone fun! We got to Harvard for a few hours and met Amit and Sheila for lunch. They’re so cute! Whoever set them up done good!”

She grinned at that, knowing it was me more than anyone else. I’d just planted a couple of suggestions, but they were good ones, clearly.

“I’m glad. It’s awesome that you got to see them.”

“Let’s see. We went to Boston Common, and we drove out to Cape Cod and walked the beach some. And we went up to Salem and saw some of the ‘witch trial’ historic stuff. That stuff is scary and awful!”

“I’ve been to those places,” I said. “Salem was both of those things.”

“Yes, but you haven’t been there in this universe!” she said, giggling.

“True!”

“I’d never been there, except for Logan when we went to Lexington,” she said. “So ... let’s see. We went to some fort in southern Maine. I forget the name. Also, we had a lot of lobster. So much lobster! Crab, too, but mostly lobster. I swear, the ‘lobster date’ thing cannot work up there, or every high school girl would be preggers!”

I chuckled at that.

“That makes too much sense,” I said. “I remember how many places sold lobster up there.”

“So good! I’m pretty sure we get lobster on the cruise, too, but now I’m all spoiled and will barely notice it.”

“You’ll notice, I bet.”

“Caught me! Lobster is always a plus.”

She shifted and said, “You’re bringing your tux, right?”

“Of course! There’s always a formal night or two.”

“We’re bringing some nice dresses. I know Jas is bringing a couple of ao dais and maybe something new.”

“Don’t ruin her surprise!”

“Duh! I want to live!” Angie said, grinning.

“I haven’t been on a cruise since ... hell... 2015? Yeah... 2015, I think.”

She gave me a shove.

“It doesn’t count if the ship hasn’t even been built yet!” she said, giggling.

“Well, heck!” I said, chuckling. “Then I’ve never been on a cruise.”

“See? It’s all new!”

“Seriously, it is,” I said. “Ships in the 2010s were nothing like the ones we’re going on. You, Paige, and Jas are going to think this ship is ‘huge’ and I’m going to think it’s ‘modest.’”

She giggled.

“Yeah, you said,” she said. “I can’t wait, except also I can.”

She shifted again, then sniffled.

“What’s wrong, Sis?” I said, hugging her.

“It’s ... nothing ... nothing’s wrong!” she said, still sniffling. “It’s ... it’s what’s right! I mean ... that’s by far the best part of this whole thing! Feeling like my entire life is in front of me, pretty much, and I’ve got so much time! Which ... I know, you feel that, too, but it’s ... look at all this time we’ve had so far, and ... it’s ... I haven’t fucked it all up already! I’d have been thirty-one when I got out of prison, which isn’t that old, except a thirty-one-year-old ex-con is ... I don’t know if I’d ever have had that feeling of ‘I can do whatever I want and the future is wide open.’”

I nodded, hugging her.

“This is like the second time I’ve had this conversation in three days,” she said, sniffling again. “Which is why it’s hitting me now, maybe. Paige and I got to talking, and she said something about feeling like she could do anything she wanted with work, career, hobbies — everything! — and know she was loved and supported. And how great that made her feel. It was all ... oh, God, yes!”

“I feel that, too, Sis, and I think Jas does as well. Not like we do, but for themselves, not just for us. And, I mean, Tony and Jean, and Camille and Francis, are great. Both of them would have been loved and supported in what they wanted to do. But it’s different when you’ve found the person who’s hopefully ‘the love of your life’ and they’re right there with you on the same page.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m eternally grateful for this. Whoever, Whatever, Whyever ... unless there’s some twist ending where it turns out the whole thing is evil and malicious, I’m grateful. And ... heck, if there’s a twist ending, it’ll be a doozy!”

“Definitely,” I said. “I doubt it, but... ‘Count no man happy... ‘“

She sighed, smiled, and said, “I get that, but fuck it! I’m happy! If it’s fickle, at least I got all of this, plus likely a lot more.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Who knows? Miracles happen — we know that. Maybe anti-miracles happen, too. In the meantime, it’s the same as it ever was: we do what we think is best, pay attention, and enjoy the journey, not just go crazy trying to get to the destination.”

“Yes!” she said, hugging me. “That, exactly!”

“That’s kinda what our last few days were like.”

“That sounded awesome. I’m all for that. For Paige and me, that was New Orleans. We did a lot more, but what we wanted, when we wanted, pretty much. Except the jerk, but ... eh. That got us attention and free stuff, and Paige is all healed up.”

“And we’ll be there in two days,” I said.

“And then again in a few weeks! It’s awesome!”

“You really like it there.”

“We do,” she said. “But it’s definitely a ‘for a visit’ thing. Neither of us wants to move there. I think, for us, the ‘special’ things wouldn’t be so special if we were living there. Maybe? If we’re really rich, a vacation house or something could happen, but we’d be better off renting, probably.”

“You could always...” I started, but then she got to the same place and started talking.

“If we had a vacation house, though, Mom and Dad could stay there whenever they wanted. Mom would love that!” she said.

“That’s what I was going to say.”

“You and Jas, too. Well, any of us.”

“Could be awesome. We’ll have to see. I have thoughts,” I said.

“The hurricane?”

“Yeah. I mean ... heck, you could just prepare for it or whatever. It would be wrong, I think, to buy something and sell it anywhere near the hurricane — like, within a few years — but taking steps to prepare is probably fine.”

“Or buying in higher-ground areas,” she said.

“That rules out a lot of the Garden District, though,” I said.

“Which is exactly where we’d want to be, yeah. So ... we’ll figure it out. Years to go!”

“Definitely!”

“Okay,” she said, “bedtime!”

“Sounds good!”

We kissed, rubbed noses, said ‘I love you’ to each other, and then she scooted off to her own bedroom, while I went to sleep in mine.

Monday, June 3, 1985

We had lunch with Candice and Sherry today. Switching things up a bit, it was at Rico’s. They really liked the tacos, and it was a great chance to catch up. They had some big news. Candice was now living at Sherry’s place. She was a high school graduate, and going to UH for summer classes along with Sherry, so Erwin and Sandy had given up on that point. They were pretty much over the moon about it, all things considered, at least considering that a relationship with a guy was out of the question. They really liked Sherry and felt good about Candice’s long-term future with her.

Summer classes gave Sherry a chance to get ahead and Candice a chance to catch up with us a bit. Even so, Candice was impatient to get started at A&M. Sherry was impatient, too, just not as impatient.

I reminded them about Cammie and Mel being there all summer if they wanted to bring anything up early or just go hang out for a day or two and get to know the area. They said they were considering it.

We promised to help them with registration for A&M once it was time for them to do that. Sherry might be able to get into some of our classes, but she would — most likely — be in a different place in her coursework than we were. Still, Business Law was a real possibility for her, at least.

They were a little jealous of our travel plans, but not much. They had their summer planned out, and they’d have enough breaks and enough money to get away a bit.

Besides lunch, our biggest activities were packing and getting our laundry done. When all was said and done, it would be roughly a two-and-half-week trip, with a week of that on a cruise ship. We would likely leave some things (mostly clothing) in the car. Even so, it was a lot of stuff. The land yacht’s trunk would manage, but it would be tight.

We gave Cammie and Mel a call before heading out. Cammie was hopping mad, as it turned out. She’d gotten a parking ticket.

It was, technically, a valid one. She’d slightly messed up while parking at the house. The rear fender of the car was half an inch further from the curb than the law allowed. Mel had measured. Twice.

Fortunately, the car hadn’t been towed, though that was a matter of luck. She’d forgotten some groceries in the car and had gone back out, spotted the ticket, and moved the car to the driveway just before the tow truck arrived.

On the other hand, we’d seen dozens of poorly parked cars on our street and none of them had ever gotten a ticket.

She hadn’t been parking in the driveway because it gave a potential graffiti artist more opportunities to deface the car, but this might tip the balance on that.

We would have to look at putting in at least a concrete pad, or maybe a full garage, and then parking our cars behind the gate. For now, she was going to park in the front part of the driveway, but be very careful to not encroach on the sidewalk in any way.

Tuesday, June 4, 1985

Angie and I said goodbye to Mom and hit the road, stopping first to pick up Paige, then Jas. With the trunk carefully packed (large bags further in, overnight bags for each couple where we could easily get them out), I pointed the car east and headed for New Orleans.

We made it there in time for our dinner with Curtis and Marsha. It had been a long time since Jas or I had seen them, and they seemed to be thriving in New Orleans. Curtis made the observation that being a Federal Circuit Court judge was simply different in ways that weren’t immediately obvious to many people. He had far fewer cases, but the cases were much more complicated and the pressure to make a correct decision was even higher. Federal District Court judges don’t much like being overruled, but Circuit Court judges really dislike it.

Besides that, his staff was considerably larger. He had clerks interning with him, permanent employees to help, and so forth.

We talked briefly about the GSS decision. He strongly supported the decision and felt the Supreme Court perhaps should have upheld it instead of denying certiorari. Still, it set a precedent for our circuit, and he felt it was strong enough that others would fall in line. He was well aware of PROMISE and was amazed that something looking like a movement had started at Memorial, of all places.

I got the feeling there were things he wasn’t saying (and almost certainly wasn’t allowed to mention). That’s probably always the case with a job like his. We would watch the papers and be ready for things to happen, as things always do.

We also talked a bit about Marshall. It felt like Curtis and Marsha had become, perhaps, godparents to him, or the classic ‘aunt and uncle’ related by preference, not blood. He was over at their house at least every other week. Marshall was keenly interested in the law and Curtis thought he very much had the mind for it.

Another coincidence that was just a coincidence, but that we’d made meaningful. We hadn’t done anything to put Curtis in New Orleans (except save his life). We hadn’t done anything at all to put Marshall in New Orleans, either, unless one postulated some benefit to Marshall from two years of fairly intense competition with Angie.

Still, once they were both here, we’d provided the connection between them. Who knew where this was going to lead? Judge Briggs, perhaps? Or perhaps he’d be some other influential attorney somewhere. There were plenty of things one could do with a law degree. His future, like ours, was wide open. That, for a black kid from an iffy school in a poor part of Houston, was its own little miracle.

We said goodnight after a while and headed to our favorite little hotel, just up the road a bit in the Garden District. We could have stayed somewhere less expensive (not that it was all that pricey), but the feeling of having a ‘favorite hotel’ and it being across from our ‘favorite breakfast place’ was special.