Chapter 54: The Roles We Play

Tuesday, December 3, 1985

I swung by Hullabaloo Cafe after my last class. Amy was back on the job by herself in the nearly deserted restaurant.

“Hello!” she said when I came in. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too, and I am very happy that you haven’t died.”

“As am I, for you,” she said. “Very much so. And for myself, too, of course.”

“Of course!”

“How was your Thanksgiving?”

“It was very good,” I said. “Lots of good family time. How was yours?”

“Surprisingly ... it was ... pleasant,” she said. “I feel as if my parents are beginning to take me as I am and cease trying to make me who they wish I was. It is a slow process, but a positive one.”

“A very important step for parents,” I said. “Mine made that decision a few years ago, but I have unusual parents and had unusual circumstances.”

She snorted a bit, and said, “You are unusual. But, then, I am also unusual, but in a way parents might try to ... adjust ... differently from yours.”

I heard the echo of ‘Beetlejuice’ in her words. Immediately, I realized that I really hoped Amy was in my life when ‘Beetlejuice’ came out. Even more than the upcoming Addams Family movies, ‘Beetlejuice’ felt like a movie Amy would connect with at a deep level. That, and ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’. Both were so much on her wavelength that it was hard to imagine her not having a strong reaction to them.

But, then, she would also love ‘Heathers’, I thought. Not in the same way, not at all, but a deeply existential dark comedy about murder in high school and the failings of the universe? Totally up Amy’s alley.

I said, “I’m glad it was pleasant. Thanksgiving should be pleasant.”

“It is one of my favorite holidays,” she said. “Christmas is also good, but it is — understandably — wrapped up in religion, and...”

She shrugged rather than finishing that sentence, instead saying, “Thanksgiving is a thoroughly secular holiday. We are grateful, and give thanks, but ... well. Perhaps the early Pilgrims gave thanks to God, but that is not part of the holiday for most people. We are, simply, thankful. I have much to be thankful for, and it is enjoyable for there to be a day to express that with others.”

“That’s how I see it, too,” I said. “It’s probably the most important holiday for me. I might put Easter second, in terms of meaning.”

She wrinkled her nose at that.

“Sorry,” I said. “Not the religious meaning, or at least not literally. That, too, is important — Easter is, in theory, a much more momentous event for Christians than Christ’s birthday is, and I am at least nominally somewhat Christian — but it’s more about the connection to rebirth, renewal, new life, and all of the rest.”

“Oh!” she said. “No. No, I agree there. I ... it is bunnies and candy, which are fun but not serious. And the cross, and the tomb, which are ... depressing. And, if you do not take the religious side as definitive, then...”

She shrugged again.

“But the notion of rebirth and renewal, of new life, of changes ... that ... I can see that as a reason to rank it highly.”

“I’m glad,” I said. “Anyway, I probably should go ... though you’re not busy...”

She snorted, looking around and nodding.

“But I wanted to check in. I don’t have a date for a date yet, but I’m hoping to have one within a day or two.”

“My calendar is largely open,” she said.

“I did have an idea, but I have no idea what you would think of it.”

“Oh?”

“The MSC Madrigal Dinners people...” I started.

She nodded quickly, immediately.

“The dinner at the Hilton. I saw it in the paper,” she said, nodding to a newspaper rack full of copies of the Battalion at the entryway to the cafe.

“That’s what I meant.”

“It also sounds loud,” she said. “I ... think I will pass on it this year.”

“That seems fine,” I said.

“Besides...”

She shrugged a bit.

“It is not my sort of thing. Or ... it is not my sort of thing yet. I am willing to try it, but ... what I want, right now, is a quiet meal, perhaps something entertaining, and then time afterward. That is a loud meal and something entertaining together. That ... at some point, I will be happy to do that. But it does not fit right now.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “I’d much rather do what you want to do, and I’ll be going to this anyway. The girls want to go. But I didn’t want to not ask, because you might have liked it.”

She nodded quickly. “I might have liked it. Yes. And I am quite happy that you asked! It is the nicest date anyone has ever asked me to. At least, if you do not think dances are better. I think a dance might be better, but not any of the few I went to. They were very loud, and mostly it was my date seeing who else he could dance with while making sure I received the obligatory number of dances.”

“That does sound awful,” I think. “I have some wonderful memories of dances, but our experiences in high school were extremely different.”

She smiled, and said, “I will want to hear more of your experiences. I am very curious. Sometimes it feels like hearing nice stories fills in gaps, as if I had done things I have not done.”

“That’s interesting,” I said, and meant it. “I’m happy to share. There are things I can’t talk about — or won’t, either way — but I’m pretty open to questions about nearly anything.”

“Except, for instance, girls you have slept with.”

I chuckled a bit, nodding.

“Yes. That’s off the table. I will admit to Jasmine...”

She snorted a bit.

“There could be no question about that. Nor Claire.”

“I would not say anything about Claire.”

“Ah! But Claire would! Especially since you and I have started dating, I have heard a number of things.”

“That’s between you and Claire. I won’t share, even if I know you know.”

She nodded.

“That is ... a confusing thing. It is a rule that men should refrain from telling tales, but that rule seems to be broken more often than it is observed.”

“I care far more about maintaining the respect of women than I do about getting points from men because of my exploits. Seven women in my house, zero other men.”

She snorted at that, and grinned a bit, too.

“Wise of you,” she said.

“So, we’ll figure out something else soon. Friday and Saturday are out, and Wednesday is complicated.”

“Complicated?”

“I need to be home at nine. I don’t usually watch ‘St. Elsewhere’, but...”

“I remember. A friend of yours, one you dated, will be acting on the show. You do have interesting friends. In that case, let us go with Thursday.”

“Thursday it is!”

“Until then,” she said.

“Until then,” I agreed.

Jas spent nearly an hour in our bedroom with the door closed during the evening. I was pretty sure she was talking with Darla. Darla had a lot to share, so that didn’t surprise me. That she would share it with Jas was, as she’d said, surprising but also understandable. Jas was a good sounding board, and they could talk in specifics about a lot of things. Talking with anyone else would either require lengthy explanations or a decision about how much discretion was required. I was an open book with respect to Jas, though. Darla didn’t need to decide what she could share, and I completely trusted Jas to share whatever she found appropriate. I was pretty sure I couldn’t marry someone I didn’t trust that much.

“So,” Jas said, when we snuggled up for bed. “We talked.”

“I was pretty sure of that,” I said.

“You get to talk now. I’ll start with asking how things were with her from your perspective. I want to hear all of your thoughts before I get to anything she said.”

“Really good. She had ... a lot. Big thing: we’re on for Friday at the Hilton, and I won’t be back until Saturday.”

“She told me that,” Jas said. “Go get ‘em, Wolf!”

“Planning to.”

“I might hold Monique hostage overnight since you won’t be here. We already talked about it. She’s pretty into the idea. I think me ‘holding her hostage’ is actually a plus.”

“Go get ‘em, She-Wolf!” I said.

Jas giggled quite a bit, nodding.

“I’m sure she’ll find a way to get in good with her captor,” I added.

“Mm...” Jas said. “I don’t know. She might have to do a lot of sucking up!”

We both laughed, and I hugged her.

“What else?”

“She had a lot from Thanksgiving — relationship stuff — and a lot about us. And ... what we’re getting up to.”

I went through it. Jas probed a bit at some of the things Clara had said, and was even more curious about Wolves and the tomboys they might prey upon.

“I should taunt the Wolf more often, I think,” she said. “Ponytail? Some tomboy clothes?”

“If you like it, I’m hardly going to turn you down,” I said. “It sounds like fun.”

“I like a ponytail sometimes,” she said. “Really good handle. Sometimes a girl just wants to be manhandled and reminded she’s little and weak and her man has needs!”

I chuckled at that. “We can get away with that. I can with Darla now. Paige.”

“Angie.”

“Let’s ... yeah.”

“You could. I’m not saying you should, but you totally could.”

“Yeah, well, in the ‘could but definitely not should’ category, Cammie.”

“Oh, God!” she said, giggling. “You could overwhelm Cammie.”

“She knows self-defense.”

“She’d hesitate if it was you,” she said, still giggling.

Then she calmed down and said, “You were right. With me, with Darla, with Paige ... you have permission. If and when Mel says you have permission, I’m pretty sure you would have ... Wolf permission. Cammie might kinda like watching that. Angie would give you permission in an instant if you two were going to do anything anyway. But ... Claire? Definitely not. Amy? Who knows? Jess? Jury’s out. Laura? Hell, no!”

“That all sounds about right. But it’s not only about the Wolf catching someone. I’m much more sure that I can chase someone now. Darla was important to getting there, though. She wanted to be chased. I’ve known that for years, really. There are good reasons I didn’t do it in high school, but it’s not ... starting at zero. After this, if I had the number of a pretty girl, I could let the Wolf out a bit and see how it went. At some point I would have to make sure, but...”

“But girls are usually good at showing if they’re enjoying the chase,” she said. “Except ... oh, heck. You have to worry about the non-confrontational types who turn into deer in headlights when someone goes after them.”

“That doesn’t sound like ‘enjoying the chase.’”

“So ... it’s not. But ... some girls are deer in headlights because they want the wolf to come get them. Some are because they want the wolf to lose interest and go away. And, if that’s all they do, you have no idea which.”

“Communication, communication, communication.”

“Definitely! So ... what did you think about Darla and ... you know. Getting caught. In a ... bigger way.”

“She had a good point: for her, waiting for Mister Right is the ideal in terms of home runs. But, practically speaking, doing that is a huge gamble. What if you think the guy is Mister Right and he’s not? We didn’t get into the more daunting cases, like waiting for marriage and then finding out the guy is impossible in bed or something, but she’s undoubtedly thought about them.”

“You turn out to be impossible in bed after marriage and we will have some words!” she said, then giggled.

“Heck, it’s nearly impossible that I’m here in this bed at all!” I said. “Once you’ve done something that impossible, what are a few more little impossibilities?”

She bopped me with a pillow.

“I am highly grateful to the probability gods for allowing you to be here with me!”

“I’m even more grateful, honestly,” I said, hugging her warmly.

“So ... I think we got sidetracked...”

“I know we got sidetracked.”

She giggled and nodded, then said, “I’ll share a few thoughts with you. The biggest is that nothing you said was much of a surprise. You’re reading the situation right, which means she’s communicating well. Points to her! Some of what we talked about ... it wasn’t probably the easiest for her to share.”

“Oh, I definitely agree,” I said. “She was pretty red at points.”

“Whereas I can just say that I really could get into some of that. I haven’t asked, because it’s not a big thing right now and ... um. Well. You have no lack of aggression!” she said, giggling. Not blushing, though.

I growled playfully at her, which made her wiggle.

“Down, Wolf!” she said. “We’re just talking.”

I made a little whimper sound, as dog-like as I could.

“We’ll see,” she said, patting me on the head. “Anyway! She’s probably at least a step over from me and from Paige. And ... though I suppose you don’t need to know this ... Angie.”

“I don’t, but I don’t mind knowing it, and you kinda said it before.”

“Oh, this is a broader statement. All of us have that ‘little and helpless’ thing going on, to varying extents, sometimes. And ... yes, you’re right, there is no consenting to sex in advance. However, you can assume I have, and you can also assume Paige has. Angie ... no. That’s obviously a real decision thing, and encouraging spontaneity is completely the wrong thing to do. But dragging me, or Paige, off, tossing us on a bed, spanking us if we try to get away, and having your way with us is totally pre-approved. You know me and you know Paige. If we weren’t in the mood, we would let you know and wouldn’t be upset with the attempt.”

“Noted,” I said, growling again.

“Not now!” she said, giggling. “Anyway! Oh, I should say ... I said me or Paige. ‘Both’ is equally on the table.”

“Wolf likes,” I said.

“Well, duh! I mean, the two of us can fuck you under the table and keep right on going, but you’ll have a great time and plenty to watch once you’re out of energy.”

“Girls are superior,” I said.