Chapter 51: Over The Hills And Far Away

Thursday, January 3, 1985

Today was mostly about getting things in order to head back to College Station. We packed, figured out where we’d stashed this thing or that, did laundry, and all of those things.

We had lunch with Jess, this time at the burger place. She didn’t have time for more, and neither did we, but it was good to see her one more time. Most likely, the next time we saw her would be on TV!

We also started saying our goodbyes to the people we needed to say goodbye to. Jas and I dropped in on the Seilers and said hello to them, hanging out a bit. We certainly could stand to see them a bit more.

I checked in with a bunch of other people, too. Dropping by Memorial let us say hello to a handful of teachers (most notably Tom Myerson, who was very happy to see we were all doing well) and Principal Riggs. He told me this year’s student council was still doing well, but that was no surprise with Megan in charge. Next year would be the question, for me, but that was because I didn’t know as many of the ‘new people.’ Megan did, and she was a great judge of character.

We met Candice and Sherry for dinner. They were a bit jealous of our going on the ski trip, and Candice gave me one quick little smile which acknowledged the connection without making anything of it. She might be hesitant about a ski trip herself, but who knows? Maybe one with Sherry would be good for her. For both of them, even!

They promised to keep us up to date with scholarship offers and decisions. For our part, we wished them well. It was out of all of our hands now. A&M’s scholarship office would decide if A&M was even a possibility for them. No scholarship, and they’d be at UH or something else where Candice did have one.

Our final goodbye of the evening was to Dad. He’d stayed up a bit late so he could say goodbye before going to bed. We’d see Mom in the morning, but he’d be long gone to work.

He didn’t say it, but we could definitely feel how happy he’d been with our visit. It was just as clear he’d miss us, but also that he was more than content. That’s how things should be. You can’t move out and be on your own without moving out, after all. He’d never have wanted us to just stay here for any reason.

This was one of those times where I knew pretty much exactly what he was feeling. Been there, done that. It was something I couldn’t explain, couldn’t even hint at, but knew intimately. Letting go is hard. Going from seeing your child every day to seeing them once or twice a quarter — if that — is tough.

We’d done the best we could, and they’d done the best they could. That best was very good, too. It just included moments like this one.

Dad took the opportunity to demand plenty of pictures from the ski trip. We promised we’d take a bunch. Pictures were always a good way to keep parents happy! I’d learned that myself both as a parent and as a son.

Jas and I wound up staying up fairly late, talking about everything and nothing at all. Politics, life, religion ... whatever, pretty much. All of the above. Some of the best times I’d had with my ex-wife had been these sorts of discussions. Jas and I had them every so often, but this was a particularly good one.

The best part was that, with Jas, I didn’t feel like I was having to look out for potential minefields or that I didn’t dare mention some topic or express some opinion.

We finally went to bed all snuggled up in each other’s arms. Houston had been great, but it would be good to get back home, too. Even if we weren’t staying that long, there’s no place like home.

The vacation promised to be fun, too. How much fun remained to be seen, of course. We might come back nursing broken bones or the like, after all.

Or just having frozen our asses off!

Friday, January 4, 1985

We spent a leisurely time having breakfast with Mom. Or, rather, talking with her while we ate breakfast. She’d eaten long ago.

Along the way, Mom congratulated us on having apparently kept to our diets, and we in turn congratulated her, too. That, surprisingly, got a bit of a blush. Perhaps she’d thought we hadn’t noticed she was thinner and more fit?

We got into a discussion of what we ate, and it pretty much met with Mom’s approval. That conversation itself was interesting. The Mom of my first life — and, as much as my ‘other’ memories told me, this Mom, too — had been very indulgent of young Steve. If I wanted to eat a bowl full of chocolate chips, there would be chocolate chips in the house for me to eat. It’s not fair to simply blame parents for kids who get fat, but the parents are involved in the process most of the time. Mom had aided and abetted me multiple times.

I’d ‘broken the habit’ myself, of course, but in so doing, also wrought changes in Mom and Dad’s diet they, in turn, reflected back onto Angie and me. This Mom would say something if she knew we were eating an unhealthy diet.

Not that we were super-healthy eaters. Burgers and fries were sometimes on the menu. So was pizza. But salads, fresh vegetables, lean chicken dishes, and many other healthy things took center stage.

Jas and I got on the road around 10. Picking up Angie and Paige, plus saying farewell to Jean and Camille, took us until eleven-thirty. With all of that, we made it home just before two.

Cammie and Mel were happy to see us. I think they were also happy we were only here for a couple of days. They certainly didn’t mind being around us in general, but this was a rare chance for the two of them to have a week to themselves. No family, no friends, nothing but the two of them.

Especially with Mel having been gone on the trip, Joseph’s nasty Christmas card, and the (fortunately diminishing) tensions with the Rileys, having ‘quality time’ would be precious, and would hopefully get them a great start on the spring semester.

Mel let us know GSS’s first meeting of the semester would be on Wednesday the 16th. We’d be there, of course!

We had lunch at home, then busied ourselves with unpacking (Christmas gifts and other new things, including the new whiteboards) and packing (all of our ski and cold-weather gear). We picked up our rental gear, too.

Something occurred to me while packing that I should have thought about earlier, having lived where it was cold. At least it hit me now instead of later.

I rounded up Jas, Angie, and Paige and encouraged them to pack several ‘outside’ layers. ‘Inside’ layer (thermal underwear and the like) were great, but you couldn’t take them off when you went in for lunch, nor if the day warmed up considerably. Layers between your first ‘outer’ layer and your last ‘outer’ layer were key.

The bus to Winter Park would leave at two tomorrow afternoon. With necessary stops (dinner, the occasional bathroom break to avoid overloading the bus’s bathroom, breakfast, lunch, and driver changes) we would arrive in Winter Park around 2 pm on Sunday. Skiing would be Monday through Friday. They were having the promised party on Wednesday. I suspected the idea was to make sure everyone had a good chance to meet the others while we still had time to form friendships, but also give people time to meet before the party so they would know a few others at least.

On Friday, we had to be checked out of our rooms by noon. They’d hold our luggage. We had to be off the slopes by four, to our final ‘family-style’ dinner at five, and on the bus by seven. We would make it back to College Station in the late afternoon on Saturday. That would give us Sunday to rest and recover.

The group going to Crested Butte had it worse. They’d get back late in the day on Sunday, with classes looming Monday morning. They got two parties, though — but no group meals.

I had no idea how many buses (and, therefore, kids) were going. Would they all be full? It should be fine either way — we were two couples, so we could sit with each other and not have to sit with anyone else.

Lodging was two to a room, though they had a four-to-a-room option for slightly less money. I suspected some people picked that, but we certainly didn’t.

By dinner time we’d pretty much gotten ready. There’d be more double-checking tomorrow, of course, but we seemed pretty set.

Jas and I had gotten into the habit of giving each other’s packing a once-over. I think Angie and Paige did something similar. It’s not like I hadn’t been packing for myself for forty years or more, but things do get forgotten sometimes. Having a trusted person double-check you can make the whole thing more relaxed.

As my ex-wife and I had repeatedly said to each other, we weren’t going to the wilderness. Winter Park had stores. If we forgot something truly important, we could fix it there.

If we forgot something unimportant, it was only a week-long trip. No matter what ‘it’ was, we could grumble our way through missing it.

Jas and I snuggled up around midnight after taking advantage of the bed for a bit. Being home had its perks!

“First overnight trip on a bus,” she said. “For both of us! For some reason, it feels special.”

“I agree,” I said. “We probably won’t do it often, but...”

“But it’s such a ‘college student’ thing to do,” she said.

“Yeah. Oddly, as atypical as I am, I suppose I’m also more of a ‘typical college student’ this time.”

“That is odd! I can see it, though.”

“Between my two lives, I’ll have the whole experience. Lived in the dorms then, overnight bus rides and hosting parties now,” I said.

She giggled.

“Now that’s funny. Two lives to get what a lot of people get in one! It also means I’ll miss out on some of those experiences. Not that I’m complaining — this is much better than a dorm!”

“I definitely agree! Especially considering the dorms here. At least UT’s were coed.”

“Coed sounds more fun!” she said, grinning.

“Definitely is here!”

“I’ll say so!” she said, giving me a kiss.

That one led to another, which led to another, which...

Well, ‘coed’ is definitely more fun!

At least if you’re interested in the opposite sex that way, anyway. Which, fortunately, we both definitely were.

Saturday, January 5, 1985

We triple-checked our packing, made a big outing to the grocery store to help Cammie and Mel restock the house, hit up the libraries for some books to read on the trip, figured out which cassettes we were bringing, and generally just got ready.

Around one, we loaded up Angie’s car with all of our stuff. Cammie was driving us to the parking lot where we’d meet our bus and get on our way. Mel came along, because why not? We all fit, even with our luggage.

The buses were meeting out in the ‘BFE’ lot area, which had an enormous amount of parking for those who wanted a car near the bus stop. Cammie planned to be here at five on Saturday the 12th. We would likely be able to call a few hours before that and fine-tune the arrival time.

We were among the earlier arrivals. Over the next half hour, a steady stream of students arrived. Luggage varied from some people with a single carry-on size suitcase to people with two huge bags plus skis and ski poles. I assumed it would all average out and that we would fit just fine on the buses.

The crowd appeared to be about even between guys and girls. With A&M still about two-thirds male at this point, that suggested skiing, or winter trips, or whatever, attracted more girls. That, or girls had been more successful on average at getting parents to part with travel money. I’m sure there were other self-funded students here, but there couldn’t have been many.

That pointed out a fundamental difference between us and the average college student. We had our own money (or, in the case of Paige, had a girlfriend who would happily share), and we had no doubt we would have more money soon enough. The cost of this trip was roughly equal to a semester’s tuition. Some students would see it as a ridiculous luxury. Others, who came from wealthier backgrounds, would see it as a place where ‘the parents’ could crack open the checkbook.

We didn’t live like kings or anything, but we were definitely ‘privileged,’ and would continue to be. That was good, but it might also cause some people trouble with relating to us. We, though, could probably relate to them better than they would expect. Angie had been a ‘starving student’ in the past, and I’d had to pinch pennies a lot more in my first life than I did now.

We chatted with some of our fellow travelers while waiting, but it was hard to really connect with anyone under the circumstances. We’d likely meet more of them along the trip. There were a lot of us, though.