Chapter 70: Tipping Point

Saturday, March 2, 1985

Cammie called us together for a meeting as breakfast ended. The topic turned out to be something unexpected: flowers.

She and Mel were staying in the house over Spring Break, of course. Spring was pretty much here, or thereabouts, and they wanted to work on the backyard (and some on the front), put in flower beds, and plant seeds and plants.

She was interested in an herb garden, too, and maybe a few crops. Potatoes were super-easy (and I had ideas there). Tomatoes weren’t, but they weren’t difficult.

The six of us piled into the car and visited a nursery. Cammie and Mel did most of the shopping, but everyone wanted at least one thing. Even me — I wanted cilantro and basil. Angie did, too, but I got there first.

Yes, there was jasmine.

No, we didn’t buy any magnolias (which are trees, after all). Cammie actually joked about it, though, which seemed like a positive step.

We didn’t get any camellias, either. Cammie wasn’t nearly as partial to them as Jas was to jasmine.

I briefly talked with Cammie about raised-bed and container gardens (neither of which was common in 1985) and about the plastic trash bag method of growing potatoes. She thought those were great ideas — and was surprised I knew about them. My ex-wife and I had done a bit of gardening. Not all successful, but we’d tried, and I’d learned a fair bit along the way.

They would mostly have to water the old-fashioned way, though. Drip irrigation systems for home gardens weren’t easy to come by just yet.

Of course, Cammie and Mel were welcome to landscape as they saw fit. None of the other girls cared and (as we all joked) I could stand nearly anything.

The money wasn’t much of an issue, in the end. Since everyone benefited, we would share the costs. Some of the improvements might raise the value of the house, so those went against the ‘house’ account, not the ‘living’ account. And, after all, Cammie and Mel would be doing much of the work, but we would all enjoy the results.

There was still a lot of work to be done on the backyard (and some on the front), but this would make a difference.

I talked to Candice in the early afternoon. Her scholarship was all settled and things were looking promising for Sherry. Nothing formal or committed, but apparently she’d heard ‘we’ll have something for you for sure’ twice now. About as much as you can expect when there’s nothing formal in place!

Neither set of parents needed to see the house before agreeing. Most likely, we wouldn’t see them until the fall, when Candice and Sherry were moving in. That was fine with us.

Cammie and Mel offered to repaint their apartment whatever colors they wanted. Candice and Sherry said they’d get back to us. It really would be nice if we could get that done over the summer when no one was living in the basement!

I put them in touch with Aggieland Property Management. Payments would go there, and they had to fill out the property agreement and so forth. From the point of view of Candice or Sherry (and their parents) it would look straightforward, just like any other leased house with payments going to a business. They would never know the money went right into a bank account I owned and Jas controlled.

Or, rather, they wouldn’t know until we told them. We almost certainly would tell them — right after we told Mom and Dad, the Nguyens, the Seilers, and the Reillys. The latter would find out only if Mel was fully back in their good graces. After all, the profit share was Mel’s, not theirs!

Next week was our first exam week, so today we had a couple of study groups. Not psych, though, which was good. Seeing Claire either before or right after our date might be awkward. Our psych group was meeting Tuesday and perhaps Thursday, since that final was the Friday before Spring Break.

We had a few friends from accounting over today. Not my friends, but Angie and Paige’s. I still liked them, but I didn’t know them very well.

Jas fussed over what I was wearing tonight more than I did, I think. In the end, I wound up in my maroon short-sleeve button-down and black pants. She considered several ties, but rejected the entire idea of a tie after all. Too ‘over the top,’ in her opinion. I had to agree, but she was playing the role of ‘dating consultant’ and I was happy to go with that.

I arrived about ten minutes earlier than I needed to and waited in the car. Technically, that meant I was in the space longer than the five minutes allowed, but no one was in the other space and I was in the car, so it seemed likely to be fine. I headed up to her room with things timed carefully to put me at her door at five on the dot.

When I knocked, I got Kay again. Claire was again ‘almost ready,’ of course. I think that’s required for this stage of dating, and I found it amusing. The worst that could happen would be getting a ticket, and I could deal with that if I had to. Claire would probably be mortified if I did get a ticket, though, which might make that the worst that could happen.

In any case, she came out two minutes later, wearing a blue blouse and a knee-length gray skirt. The whole thing worked very well for her.

We exchanged a quick kiss (much to Kay’s apparent amusement), Claire grabbed her purse, I offered my arm, and we were off on our date.

As we headed down the stairs (holding hands again), Claire said, “Kay finds this terribly amusing. She’s called me a home-wrecker about ten times in the last week.”

“No homes will be wrecked,” I said, chuckling.

“That’s what I told her!” she said, grinning. “When I pointed out you’d dated Jessica for two years and things were fine, she grudgingly said ‘It’ll probably be fine, I guess.’”

Claire dropped my hand to make air quotes for that, then took it again afterward.

I chuckled, and said, “I think, in the long term, that set Jasmine’s mind at ease the most. Of course, this was how she wanted the relationship to go, but until you actually try it, how can you know if it’ll work?”

We’d gotten to the car. I opened the door for her, then helped her in.

“Nice wheels,” she said, as I came around and got in.

“It’s a classic,” I said. “Big, with lousy gas mileage, but very safe and will haul up to six people comfortably nearly anywhere.”

“Definitely a plus for college!” she said. “On what you were saying, yeah, that was clear. To me ... well, it seems like it’s more likely to work if the girl is the one who brings it up.”

“It’d be interesting to see what Dr. Huffines thinks about it,” I said.

“Oh, God!” she said, chuckling and rolling her eyes. “I’m half looking forward to the sex part of the course and half dreading it.”

“It’ll be fun. I get to be singled out. So do Angie and Paige, maybe. Well ... doubled out?”

She giggled a bit at that.

“Maybe? Anyway, yeah. You guys did bring it on yourselves!”

“We did, and we’re happy to.”

“So,” she said, “Changing subjects. Where are we heading?”

“This little place called The Grapevine. It’s not far at all.”

“I’ve heard of that! Isn’t it, like, pricey?”

“Nah,” I said. “It’s really not. I mean, sure, compared to fast food or delivery pizza, or some of the cheaper restaurants, it’s more. But there are much more expensive places.”

She nodded.

“Looking forward to it!”

It took me under five minutes to make the drive, and that was with having to wait at one left turn.

When I parked, she looked around and said, “Looks nice!”

“It’s even nicer on the inside,” I said.

I walked her in and told the hostess we had a reservation. She sat us at a table for two, and Claire and I settled into a comfortable conversation. She was, definitely, someone I connected to. Perhaps not enough for a real relationship, but that’s very hard to judge when you’re going into a relationship knowing it’s probably got an expiration date and is just for fun.

Expiration dates are funny things, though. Technically speaking, Paige and I had been at that point once, with our own ‘expiration date.’ Yet, here we were, years later, living together and likely to be part of each other’s life potentially as long as we both shall live. Not as romantic partners, certainly, but as family, and there was no real ‘expiration date’ for our having the occasional date of our own.

Jess and I were the same way. Oh, there was some romance and definitely some sex, but we were never going to be ‘partners’ that way, yet I could see her being part of the family decades from now, old and gray like the rest of us (yet still outshining us effortlessly), talking about old times and stealing the occasional kiss.

Claire didn’t have to worry about all of that just yet. The default was ‘stopping,’ and we probably would, but that didn’t mean we might not be friends or potentially even family one day. I could see it because my experiences were vastly different than hers, and that was true even for just this life.

She fit in with the rest of us just fine, which made the rest possible.

After dinner, we headed back to my car, and I drove the ten minutes or so to the movie theater. She’d heard good things about the movie (some of them from the girls), and it wasn’t hard for me to reassure her I was happy seeing it again so soon.

In truth, I was pretty happy to be seeing it again. If I seemed to ‘know stuff,’ I had a built-in excuse. That made things a bit more comfortable overall.

The movie was, of course, just as good this second time around as it had been a week ago. Claire loved it. She also spent almost the entire movie snuggled up close. In a way, it reminded me of those early months of Study Group, only less hormonally charged. Even if I’d actually been ... however old I was ... I had also been a hormonally challenged fourteen-year-old, and that mattered.

We walked to the car talking about the movie and continued in that vein for a bit, but then Claire started quieting down.

“Something on your mind?” I said.

“Um ... so. Kay will be home,” she said.

I just nodded.

“Not ... maybe ... the best ... um...” she continued. After pausing, and biting her lower lip for a second, she said, “Maybe you know someplace quiet we could sit and talk for a bit?”

“I ... might?” I said.

“Back where I grew up, there was this park...” she said, smiling just a bit.

“We had one of those, too,” I said.

“I don’t know...” she started, then stopped.

“Maybe I could find one?”

“Um ... there’s also ... you have that basement...”

That set off bells. Not warning bells, per se, so much as just an alert. This was a tipping point. Take her somewhere else, somewhere in the car, and we might make out and have a great date. Take her home, and we would have somewhat less of a great date. But, either way, we would both know I’d had the opportunity to take her to a nice, quiet, private basement and passed on it. That, and she had brought it up, and well before we’d gotten into making out, which passed the ‘of sound mind’ test. It also answered whether going there was within her bounds for a date.

Given all that...

“We do, and I doubt anyone’s down there now, so it’s definitely nice and quiet.”

She just grinned as I started heading toward the house.

When I got there, a couple of lights were still on. Even if they spotted me, though, they were more than smart enough to guess why I wouldn’t come right in and realize I was probably in the basement. I walked Claire up the driveway and around to the basement entry. It had been months since I’d used my key, but it opened right up. I turned on the light and ushered her in.

“Looks nice,” she said.

“I thi-” I got out, before I was silenced by her lips.

At some point in the kissing, I managed to maneuver us to the couch and settle down with her in my lap. I’m not at all sure how long it took to get that far, but we definitely did.

I’m also not quite sure when both of our shirts got unbuttoned, but that also happened before we came up for air.

She looked at me, cheeks flushed, panting, and said, “Um ... I...”

I hugged her, and said, “If you’re going to say ‘sorry’...”

She giggled.

“I considered it, but no. It’s ... um ... oh, to hell with it! Part of me says I should stop, but I don’t want to stop.”

“Maybe we should let you argue with that part of yourself first? I’d much rather regret not taking the opportunity than regret taking it. There’s always later, but there’s no undoing what’s been done.”

“Um...” she said, then bit her bottom lip.

After a second, she nodded (to herself, I think), and said, “Maybe ... um ... let me excuse myself?”

“You know where it is,” I said, smiling.

“I do!” she said, giggling. She kissed me again, quickly, which nearly set us both off, then scooted out of my lap and off to the bathroom.

While she was away, I caught my breath and thought things through. That was surprisingly easy. If she wanted to stop, that was it. I would have no regrets about it. On the other hand, if she didn’t want to stop, I didn’t want to stop, either. That was the surprising part, perhaps, given my track record, but she was an adult, knew what she wanted, and could make her own decisions. I didn’t see it going wrong, but anything can go wrong, and being preoccupied with that was simply a way to avoid taking any risks. Which, of course, created the complementary risk of missing out on a good thing.

There was no doubt about it: I was horny, and eager, and that played into things, but I was as certain as I could be that the right head was doing the thinking. That head would always choose the safer course.

The toilet flushed after a bit, and Claire emerged after that. Judging from the look in her eyes, plus her shirt still being unbuttoned ... well, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t think we were just stopping, anyway.

She slipped back into my lap, blushing just slightly, and looked up at me.

“Um ... so...” she said.

“So,” I said, smiling.

“What are you thinking?”

“That you’re very lovely and I’m very lucky.”

She giggled and blushed.

“Okay, Mister!” she said. “That’s laying it on a bit thick! Like I said months ago, I know my limitations.”

I shrugged, smiling, and said, “But, do you know your strengths?”

She frowned cutely.

“I ... don’t follow?”

“I think you do, you’re just not thinking about it. You’re very cute, for one thing. Not just ‘cute,’ but also ‘pretty,’ ‘lovely,’ and even ‘beautiful.’ You’re in great shape, and you have a great shape...”

She giggled at that.