Chapter 125: Strained Relationships

Sunday, April 13, 1986

Darla joined us for church (‘Why not?’ being her explanation as to why). Monique didn’t. She headed home after breakfast, but promised to be back for studying.

There was nearly no teasing at breakfast. A bit, but gentle and lighter than we sometimes teased among the six of us.

Church was interesting. I got asked a few times if I was fine. After missing as many services as I had, it made sense. I told people it had been related to some side projects of mine, plus the concert last weekend. That settled everyone down. About twenty people in our little congregation had been to Houston and were still raving about the concert, so I was in good company there.

After that, the day was mostly studying. Not entirely, since we had the usual phone calls. Only a few things really stood out, but it was good to catch up with people.

One noteworthy update was that Cammie’s bridesmaid dress had shipped out on Friday. She was understandably nervous. While I hadn’t seen any particularly hideous bridesmaid dresses at the weddings I’d attended, jokes like ‘Bridesmaids’ dresses look like that so the bride will look particularly lovely by comparison’ are very common.

I had no doubt whatsoever that, barring some major unexpected life change, I was going to attend more weddings before my first-life wedding date than I had in my entire first life. Given that, I should be able to view a good sample of bridesmaids’ dresses.

While Cammie was talking about the dress over dinner, I mentioned the dresses at the various impending weddings. The consensus was that I should be thinking about getting a good sample of the bridesmaids instead of the dresses. Mel even proposed it as an exception to my ‘get to know the girl first’ rule.

In her opinion, “Weddings make girls horny, and you’ll make some bridesmaid happy if you nail her. Anyone willing to get nailed went there in hopes of exactly that.”

Even Candice and Sherry agreed, so perhaps Mel had a point.

I still doubted it would happen, but ... never say never?

The other major topic from the phone calls was Andrew’s graduation. It was set for Sunday, June 15th. That seemed really late to me, but apparently that week was when the University of Oregon usually held graduation. I’d either never heard, or had forgotten, that he was studying mathematics. Apparently, he was looking at computer science for graduate school.

That would have put him in fairly close proximity to Marcus, my first-life best man (and one of my best friends), though not in the same class year. I had to wonder if they knew each other. I had long since decided not to try to connect with Marcus, and this didn’t change that, but it was interesting to know.

We were planning on being in New Jersey at that time. Jas just waved her hand when I asked if she wanted to change that. She’d apparently already told him we had a conflict, and he had been fine with that. It felt like he hadn’t been expecting us to attend, anyway. It was entirely possible that he would miss Jasmine’s graduation, depending on where he went to graduate school.

Camille and Francis would be heading to Oregon, though. That was hardly a surprise. Hopefully, they would have a nice trip!

Most of the study group had left by dinner time. Not all of them, though. We’d intentionally let Darla, Lindsay, Claire, and Monique know to hang out. Candice and Sherry knew to be on hand, too.

The reason was obvious when we brought out the cake. It said ‘Happy Freedom Day, Cammie’ on it.

Cammie burst into tears when she saw it.

“Oh, my God!” she said. “I almost forgot this time!”

For the benefit of those who didn’t know, we told an abbreviated version of the story. How, two years ago today, Cammie’s parents had grudgingly agreed to let her go and move on with her life. We didn’t mention all of the ensuing drama. They pretty much knew the police shakedown was connected, and there was no point in rehashing it.

It was a big deal, and it would remain a big deal. Two years removed from that date, Cammie still bore scars from it. Many were better, but they were there, and some might always be there. Her therapist was doing a terrific job, but your parents turning on you and putting you very much in what could fairly be described as ‘in harm’s way,’ in multiple ways, isn’t something you just ‘get over.’ Angie had been in much the same boat with Sharon, but Sharon had repented of her own failings. The Clarkes had not, thus far.

Nor do you just ‘get over’ your feelings for the people who raised you. At several points while telling the story and talking it over with friends, it was clear that one of the things that absolutely infuriated Cammie was not being able to talk to them. They still meant a great deal to her. Perhaps they always would.

I’d had friends who had ‘disowned’ their parents to various levels during my first life. Some of them seemed to have managed to step far enough away that they truly didn’t care. But others were closer to where Cammie was. They were well aware that there was nothing good that could come from interacting with those people, but still wishing there could be. That was the worst part. Perhaps, one day, some sort of reconciliation could yet be possible, but there was so far to go before that day came.