Chapter 22: Friday The 13th, Part I

Sunday, September 8, 1985

The six of us headed to church again this morning, with both Paige and Mel grumbling just a bit about wanting more sleep. Angie and Cammie both claimed coffee would solve that problem, and they were probably right.

We offered to take Candice and Sherry (obviously, not in one car), but they opted out at least for now. They might be interested later.

We each made a small donation to the church during our visit this morning. We also signed up for the next set of membership classes, which started on the 19th. Classes were held on Thursday nights starting at seven, and each class took about an hour. After the four class series, we would be ready to sign the membership book and officially become members.

The only thing that would change, really, would be that we could vote on congregational matters (such as the church budget). That wasn’t a big thing for any of us.

What was a big thing was the sense of belonging. For Cammie, this was a return (of a sort) to something that had been the center of her life until a year and a half ago: regular church-going. Mel was similar, if less so. While church had never been a major part of Jasmine or Paige’s lives, they were now interested in changing that.

For my part, I’d been a regular churchgoer during my childhood, had fallen out of the habit in college in my first life, and had started going to church again when we became Unitarians. Angie was similar: church until college, then nearly nothing until she woke up back in 1980.

I was pretty sure we would stick with it, even through the occasional complaints about not getting to sleep late on Sundays.

Unitarian Universalism wasn’t the only religion that had no problem with either lesbians or people in open relationships, but it was one of very few. That mattered quite a bit. It also had the advantage of not providing a preset answer about how death and the afterlife worked. Considering what Angie and I knew, not having an answer was preferable to having the church specify an answer we knew to be incorrect.

On the way back from church, I mentioned Darla’s comment about the police car checking out the party. Mel snarked that they were probably looking to see if anyone had parked half an inch too far from the curb, while Cammie thought perhaps they were looking for cars running stop signs several blocks away. Angie wondered if they were checking for fence permits.

It certainly pointed out that we had reason to be concerned about the police. On the other hand, nothing had happened, and police officers had plenty of tools at their disposal to harass college students holding parties, even quiet and polite parties. Who’s to say if it was ‘quiet and polite,’ anyway, if the officer insisted there were noise complaints and if he said he ‘could hear it from blocks away’?

In the end, there was nothing we could do but keep an eye out and try to stick within the strict letter of the law (well, that, or cover our tracks very well). Perhaps something would change, and perhaps this was all just a set of coincidences, but we had reason to be suspicious. It’s very hard to fight city hall, though, and attacking the police for writing nominally legitimate tickets and keeping an eye on parties gets you nothing but increased scrutiny.

The rest of the day was fairly low-key. We made our usual calls to our parents and many of our friends (including Jess, Laura, Marshall, Amit and Sheila, Gene and Sue, and Janet and Lizzie). There wasn’t a lot of news beyond our ongoing discussion of Baker v Wade. No one attributed it to us, thankfully — not even Laura or Jess — but there was a lot of discussion of how different things were now compared to how they’d looked in the months before Janet and Lizzie decided to go to their prom.

We also checked in with Andy. He and Cal were doing well, and it sounded like they would be playing some this year, albeit largely in backup roles. The coaches were very positive about both of them, and their prospects for subsequent seasons seemed very good.

Once they started playing, we might (or might not) see if there were ripples. I knew roughly how well A&M had done during this stretch (and that was very well indeed), but I also knew where the limits were. They had gone to the Cotton Bowl each of the next three years, but they hadn’t factored into the national championship battle or anything of the like. If that changed (in either direction), we might have a ripple. On the other hand, a finish within the top ten was entirely possible even if everything remained ripple-free.

I called Darla as well. That felt like nearly a requirement to me, but the call still seemed to surprise her. We talked for a bit, much of it spent with her praising ‘Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure’ again. That wasn’t all of it, but the movie was definitely a hit with her. And, since I’d proposed it, I was a hit as well, pretty clearly.

We tentatively made plans to do ‘something’ in two weeks. Officially, she didn’t want to go out on a date on Friday the 13th. I suspected that was partly an excuse to slow things down and keep the chase alive longer.

Saturday the 14th was out because of football. We had decided to invite our friends over on Saturday to watch A&M take on the Crimson Tide of Alabama. I expected it to be a decent game, but also for A&M to lose. Winning would have put them firmly in the national championship hunt, and I was pretty sure that hadn’t happened.

The hot tub was a draw, too. We couldn’t promise that it would be ready, but it should be. It would be fairly warm for hot-tubbing, but that didn’t slow down the interest all that much.

I invited Darla to the party, naturally. She agreed eagerly. She remained noncommittal on the subject of bringing a swimsuit, though. Jas pointed out later that she wouldn’t need one, but she was joking. Darla skinny-dipping, especially in mixed company, seemed quite unlikely anytime soon.

Tuesday, September 10, 1985

Candice and Sherry had skipped dinner both days this week thus far. I expected that to be the pattern going forward. A few dinners here and there, with notification in advance, but mostly them keeping to themselves day in and day out. We would likely spend more time together on the weekends, though they had plenty of things to do as well.

After dinner, Cammie said, “Okay, everyone! Living room! House updates!”

We all chuckled and settled into our usual seats in the living room.

“So...” she said. “There’s still a bidding war on the first house. We’ve got some room to move, yet, and I think the other bidder is preparing to back out, based on what I’m hearing. At the moment, we have the high bid. If the other bidder doesn’t counter, I’m nearly certain the seller will accept and that’ll be the end of it. I mean, pending a good inspection report and appraisal and all of that stuff.”

Everyone clapped, and Jas said, “Yay, Cammie! And Mel, too!”

Mel grinned and said, “Just the girlfriend, here. I’m in charge of managing any renovations and repairs needed.”

“I buy ‘em, she fixes ‘em,” Cammie said. “Division of labor!”

Everyone got a good chuckle out of that. It made sense, though. Cammie was enthusiastic about real estate, while Mel was more motivated by building and fixing things. Houses counted. She wasn’t really into designing them, which left architecture out.

“On the other two, we nearly have a deal on the second and we’re within perhaps a percent on the third. I’m expecting both to be under contract by next week.”

“And we can afford all of this?” Paige said.

“Thanks to your girlfriend and her basketball insight...” Cammie said.

That got a laugh.

“Yes, we can. It’s not just that. As noted before, we’re taking out mortgages on all three. Maxine is giving me a lot of help with getting qualified for them. Needless to say, there have been some rather pointed questions about a brand new LLC with a nineteen-year-old manager. Owning a house free and clear, with it already being profitably rented out, seems to be helping enormously. But we wouldn’t be approved without a substantial down payment. I think we would have had that anyway, but ... well, thanks, Villanova! And thanks, Angie! And Steve!”

Angie giggled at that, nodding. I nodded, too.

“Anyway, we’ll update on things again next week. Hopefully, within a few weeks, Camel will have four rental properties, not just one.”

We all cheered at that. How many college sophomores could say they had a successful rental property business up and running? Not many, I’m sure, especially entirely with their own funding.

Cammie was going to make some professors’ heads spin before all of this was over. So was I. And, quite possibly, the rest of us as well.

Wednesday, September 11, 1985

Even after five years of living in the 1980s, it still felt just slightly odd for September 11th to just be a regular day. Only Laura really knew what today meant, and she found it just as odd as I did. With luck (or hard work, or ripples, or whatever), though, perhaps no one but us would ever know September 11th as anything but a regular day.

Aside from that, the week was going about how I would expect it to. We were all settled into our classes and reconnecting with our friends.

Candice and Sherry seemed to be comfortable in the basement apartment. They joined us for dinner tonight (letting us know in advance), but were otherwise quiet. For the most part, really, they were friendly tenants or neighbors, ones with whom we had a connection but definitely weren’t close to. That seemed to suit everyone just fine.

My most interesting class, thus far, was Martial Arts. Oh, it was ‘easy’ compared to the others, but we were all learning a lot. It was one of the few places where we were almost all together, and I was putting in a lot of time being manhandled by various girls.