Chapter 52: The Pros and Cons of Selling The Cow First

Sunday, December 1, 1985

We were up and out a bit earlier than usual. Jas and Paige lived in the opposite direction from Mom and Dad’s church, but it wasn’t bad, and we arrived with plenty of time to spare.

Dr. Ott was his usual charming self, shaking hands with Dad and me and giving gentle hugs to all of the women. As usual, Angie and Paige were restrained. If you didn’t know they were a couple, it probably would have taken a sharp eye to notice.

Of course, a fair number of people did know that. Mom and Dad weren’t in-your-face about it, but they weren’t hiding it, either. Paige was ‘our daughter-in-law to be’ if anyone asked, and some people asked. Since Jas was also a daughter-in-law to be, and I was obviously her partner, some people didn’t like the answer that implied.

It seemed more and more likely that this Mom and Dad wouldn’t be like the ones from my first life. They had stuck with this church until the end, both of them. Both of their funerals had been in this building. I still remembered them well: the sad, poorly done service that was Mom’s (though Dad — the only one who truly mattered — had greatly appreciated it), and the somewhat better but still dour service that was Dad’s. They had many friends in the congregation and enjoyed going here, even though both of them had confessed more than once that they really didn’t like the ministers who followed Dr. Ott all that much.

This time? The continuing shift towards an ever more conservative Missouri Synod combined with a more liberal family would, I thought, take its toll on them. Having part of the congregation disapproving of their gay daughter and her wife, juxtaposed with their unequivocal support for both and refusal to say things like ‘love the sinner, hate the sin,’ would strain relationships. It wasn’t something they could simply set aside.

Perhaps they would stick, but I could see them grudgingly either take the (relatively) small step over to the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, an organization that would not actually exist for a few years yet) or the much larger step to join us Unitarians.

And, in a way, that was sad. I was — and always had been — sympathetic to the world-view that said ‘God does not change, and His word has not changed. Until He does, we will not, either.’ There was an intellectual purity to that, one that was lost when one became a ‘cafeteria Christian’ or a Unitarian.

On the other hand, the faith was changing. Martin Luther had split from the Catholic church over matters like dogma, lack of dissent, and allowing the common folk to form their own opinions about spiritual matters. Perhaps the beliefs had not changed (though I could certainly argue to the contrary), but the mechanisms were wildly different. Dissent meant expulsion. Forming your own opinions was frowned upon.

Weighty matters, but that is something church is for. And it dovetailed well with Dr. Ott’s sermon, which celebrated Thanksgiving by promoting things we as Christians might be thankful for. Included in his list were things such as freedom of religion, freedom to make up our own minds, and the separation of Church and State. A future minister in this very church might well say the same words but not mean the same thing at all.

There was no brunch surprise. We had too many Thanksgiving leftovers for one to make sense. That’s one problem with having multiple Thanksgiving meals: even scaled back, there are going to be a lot of leftovers and fewer people to eat them.

We helped Mom and Dad with some of theirs, then hit the road for College Station. I had a dinner date with Darla, after all, and we had things to do around the house. We also needed to get ready for the sprint that would be our last three weeks of the semester: one week of final projects and the occasional exam, one ‘dead week’ of studying (and, presumably, a bit of relaxation), and one week of final exams.

It was old hat for us after a year, but it would be new to Candice. I didn’t think she was stressing out badly, but I remembered how exhausted I had been after my first round of college finals. We would all need to watch out for her. Sherry, too, since this was a new (and tougher) school for her.

When not on the phone, I helped the others with our two biggest tasks: delayed cleanup from last week’s mini-party and decorating for Christmas. We didn’t finish decorating today, but we got a good start on things.

I called Darla at two and didn’t get her. Louise answered and said she hadn’t returned yet.

She was home when I called at four, though. After a bit of dancing around the subject, we agreed to dinner at Hullabaloo Cafe.

That was still an odd thing, even with Amy and Darla fairly well aware of each other and how they fit into my life. But it was a great dinner spot and would hopefully be quiet early on a Sunday evening.

This wasn’t a date, so we were meeting there. I certainly wouldn’t have minded the walk to Krueger, and it might have done me good after all of the Thanksgiving food, but rules were rules. Not a date? Meet at the restaurant.

I found myself slightly apprehensive as I walked to Hullabaloo Cafe. For one thing, while Amy and I were doing well now, it had been where she’d called me out. Meanwhile, here I was, about to have dinner with another girl while Amy watched. Perhaps I should have picked another venue...

Nah. If necessary, I could still back things off with Amy. With Darla, too, but we were much more committed to the chase. I hated the idea of backing things off with Amy, but dinners like this would happen. It was worth testing things.

Thinking about it, though, that wasn’t my big worry. Darla was my big worry. It would be a real blow if Darla called off the chase. This new me — my ‘Big Bad Wolf’ side — was ... interesting. New. Different. I learned something with every new lady in my life, but Darla — or the pursuit of Darla — was qualitatively different from anyone I’d dated before. That was true even if I extended it to my other life, too.

She’d had a few days with Clara and with her own thoughts. If the right thing for her was to end the chase, so be it. I would be fine. I very much hoped she wouldn’t, though, and ... I was worried about it.

Good to know, and good to think through beforehand.

When I arrived, I had a surprise — one that settled the first worry. Trev was behind the counter, with no sign of Amy. The cafe itself wasn’t empty, but there were only a few people there.

“Hey!” he waved as I came in. “A has the night off, if you were looking for her.”

“Nah,” I said. “Having dinner with a different girl.”

Trev gave me a curious look, and said, “A told me about that. Your relationships. All that stuff. It’s kinda cool, right?”

I nodded and said, “It is. It’s really cool. On the other hand, it’s ... maybe not what people would think.”

“Oh?” he said.

“The thing is, it’s still dating, and ... it’s not the same as just saying I’m free to ... you know. Cat around.”

He nodded, looking curious.

“I could, but we have some rules. The rules don’t forbid that, but they do forbid me from doing things I think are bad for me, and I think just doing that would be bad for me.”

He nodded a bit more.

“I ... yeah, I kinda like that. People are ... I mean ... variety is the spice of life, right? But if you just do that, what does it all mean? And ... hell, A is all about what it all means. So I couldn’t see her with just anyone. But the way you put it, it makes sense. Not that I was worried before, ‘cuz A is a lot more fierce than you would think.”

“She is,” I said.

The door opened and Darla came in. She wasn’t in full-on dating attire, but had a casual red blouse that might have had an extra button undone, a denim skirt, tennis shoes, and had her hair in a ponytail. The skirt kept it from being pure tomboy, but the look was well to that side. I had to figure it was to send a message, and it was working.

“Catch ya later,” Trev said as Darla rushed over and hugged me.

I hugged her back and gave her a warm kiss. We separated, and I said, “Hi!”

“Hi!” she said. “Good Thanksgiving?”

“It really was,” I said. “I’ll tell you all about it. Yours?”

She giggled. “Even better than I hoped. I’ll tell you, too. But maybe not all, about either, because ... other stuff to talk about.”

She winked when she said that, which quieted some of the nerves. Not all of them, but some.

I turned to Trev and said, “We’ll continue that later. Right now ... what do you want, honey?”

“We’re not going Dutch?” she said, grinning.

“I can afford it. Break the bank!”

“We would need to be at a steak or seafood place for me to even have a chance of doing that.”

“You could order one of everything,” Trev said.

She giggled. “What? And have the world’s largest doggie bag?”

“We have some doggie boxes in the back,” Trev said, grinning.

“I will stick with ... share a pizza, Steve?”

“Twenty thousand calories over Thanksgiving,” I said. “What harm can one small pizza do?”

“It’s just a wafer thin mint!” she said, grinning.

Trev laughed immediately, which was certainly a point in his favor. He added to it by opening his arms wide and saying, “Boom!”

We both laughed, and I ordered after we settled on just pepperoni.

“Keeping it simple!” Trev said.

We both stuck with water. I didn’t want a lot of caffeine at this hour and she seemed to feel the same.

We settled in at a table in a corner, away from the other diners.

Once we’d gotten settled, she said, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” I said.

“Tell me about your Thanksgiving!”

I went through an edited set of stories. The family dinners, but not all of the emotions. Talking a lot with Mom and Dad, and Camille and Francis, but not the more important things we’d shared. No money, no proposal, and no travel plans, but it still covered a lot.

“You were much busier than I was,” she said. “But I only have the one family.”

“That’s something Dad made a point of,” I said, since I hadn’t mentioned it specifically. “That this was our fourth Thanksgiving with Jasmine and our third with Paige. And our sixth with Angie, but that’s almost old news now. Except ... it’s not, because it has to be right up there on the list of things we’re all thankful for.”

She nodded, looking thoughtful.

“That’s ... I get that. It’s ... maybe unusual, but it fits you so well. All four of you! I barely knew you without Angie, and I never knew Angie without you, so she’s just ‘always been there’ to me.”

I nodded, smiling, and said, “In any case, it was good, and I’m curious about yours.”

She giggled a bit, blushed, and nodded.

“It ... um. I think I was asking about yours to put off mine. Not that it’s bad — it’s good! — but it’s ... well. You know.”

“I know,” I said, reaching over, taking her hand, and squeezing it.

She sighed and relaxed a bit, looking down at our hands and smiling.

“So...” she said. “Thanksgiving itself was good. The food was good, Mom and Dad were happy, Daniel was doing well, and so forth. Oh, he’s still going to fail a class this semester, but no one is even upset about that. We had one Thanksgiving go to pieces because Mom got into it with him about failing a different class. I think she’s just resigned to it, now, and Dad doesn’t seem to care. I think he does — I know he’s talked to Daniel in private — but he won’t make a big deal about it, at least not when we’re all there. So ... that was good. I really like things like that. For all that I gripe about Daniel or Mom, I love them. He’s a good guy. He’ll give you the shirt off his back. And he’s nice, and kind, and a good friend, and ... a lot of things. There are problems, but ... eh.”

I nodded, squeezing her hand and listening.

She smiled and said, “Mom ... well, we’ll get to that more, but she’s always just wanted the best for us. The big problem is that she doesn’t know when to stop. She’s trying to live our lives for us, and ... I mean, sure. If you’re fifty, you probably have some really good life experience and insight we just don’t — can’t! — have. And, if I lived my life like I was fifty and knew all of those things, I might make some different choices. But that’s not really living. Maybe my choices will be better for me, even if some of them are dumb. And ... she’s not going to be there forever. If I don’t learn how to live my life, sooner or later that’s going to be a disaster.”

Part of that hit home. I knew from personal experience that being fifty could give you really valuable life experience and insight. It did for me, at least. But, as best as I could tell, I wasn’t trying to live anyone else’s life for them, just my own. Ang and I certainly suggested things to Jas or Paige, but we didn’t try to be their parents, nor were we controlling partners. It was worth considering, though. I felt like I was nineteen and a peer of Jasmine’s with no authority over her, and I was pretty sure I lived life that way, but I wasn’t the usual nineteen, and I’m sure I sometimes saw her approaching a misstep and warned her off of it. But I would have done that anyway.

I nodded, smiling, and said, “That makes a lot of sense. I know she wants the best for you. But ... well. I only have your side of it, but I’ve always thought it sounded like she was too involved. Telling you when to study instead of teaching study skills, and that sort of thing.”

Darla nodded.

“That’s gotten much better, but I live two hours away and she can’t check my homework or watch my study time. Daniel hasn’t adjusted nearly as well as I have, though.”

“You were more aware of things in high school.”

“True!”

She sighed a bit, shifted a little in her seat, and then said, “Anyway, that’s Thanksgiving, pretty much. We did a bunch of family stuff, catching them up on our lives and all that, and they caught us up on theirs. Which ... is still dodging the real stuff.”

She paused, nibbled at her lower lip, then said, “Mom and I got some time to ourselves on Saturday. Like ... a bunch of time. Daniel was in his room, Dad was watching TV, and ... well. Dad probably knew we needed to talk. Daniel was oblivious, but that’s normal for him.”

I nodded along with her.

She said, “I ... well, I blew it. Some, anyway. It’s ... I didn’t expect her to really believe me, just believe some of what I said. But I gave her a hypothetical about a friend who was trying to decide how far to go with her boyfriend, implying it was my roommate.”

“She realized it was you.”

“Um ... yeah, but it’s complicated.”

“Go on?” I asked.

She smiled and nodded. “I said, ‘My friend is seeing this guy, and she feels like he’s got everything he needs to be the one, but ... how can she know, right? There are all of these good things, but it still might fizzle out, and ... she’s trying to decide.’”

“I can see her thinking that was just you,” I said.

“Well, but ... so ... she asked me how I was doing, dating-wise, and I said, ‘I’ve been on a few dates, but the guy I’m seeing right now won’t be the one. We’ve had a lot of fun, and I like him, but he’s not the guy I’ll be with long term, and I’ll move on before too long. I don’t have anyone in sight, though, and ... it’s not like people see us dating, so anyone who’s going to ask me would still ask me.’”

I nodded, and said, “I’m about to do something highly dangerous.”

She giggled, squeezed my hand, and said, “Oh? I mean, there are a lot of dangerous things guys can say to girls.”