Chapter 60: You Can Call Me Al

Sunday, December 8, 1985

With the girls a bit tipsy, we had all gone to bed relatively early. Thus, church wasn’t a problem. Paige complained about her aching head, but it was clearly a joke, not anything serious.

After that, we spent the day checking in with family and friends far and wide. Unlike before, the four of us could all talk to Lizzie and Janet about our upcoming visit. Cammie would have loved to be there, but the circumstances obviously didn’t allow it, so she promised to get together with them soon.

Mom and Dad were looking forward to seeing us. No beans were spilled about the trip, but there was an air of excitement, one that was increasingly becoming real to me. Less than a month to go before Jasmine and I were actually engaged! It was quite a thought. One we had been looking forward to since at least the fall of 1982, but it was different being so close.

Camille and Francis were excited, too, and happy for the upcoming holidays. Tony and Jean likewise, and the Rileys had apparently reached the point where they could say they were looking forward to Cammie staying with them. She would have to share a pullout sofa bed with Emily to do so, but it was a queen size. They would have no trouble.

Yes, the irony of putting a lesbian into a bed with another girl instead of with her girlfriend was not lost on any of us. And we all found it slightly amusing that the Rileys didn’t question Emily being happy to share. She was, as far as we knew, completely straight, and had known for years that Cammie and Mel were gay, but it was still funny.

The Rileys had faced an ‘evolve or die’ sort of moment and evolved. Emily and the twins would have put their feet down had Cammie been excluded, and that proved more than enough to swing the balance. Permanently, too, apparently. We were well past the point of threats now. Thankfully so!

Professor Berman sounded well, as did Grandmother. There were the usual aches and pains but nothing new of note. Every week was another bit of pushing back the inevitable. I would never say it to them, but I could nearly hear Amethyst’s ‘I am glad you have not died’ echoing in my head. They would, and it would be sooner than I wished, no matter what I wished.

Gene and Sue were doing great. In a moment when Sue was away from the phone, Gene confided that a proposal was in the works. They might not marry until after graduation (thought there was some chance they would), but they were serious and wanted to make it official. He passed along that he was pretty sure Amit and Sheila were in a similar situation.

Neither Amit nor Sheila confirmed that, but it was clear they, too, were doing great. Amit said Harvard was ‘kicking his ass,’ but apparently that meant having to spend a lot of time and effort on multiple drafts of essays and studying more than he had really needed to in high school. It didn’t mean he was struggling or even at risk of mediocre grades.

Sheila, meanwhile, was ‘kicking Boston College’s ass.’ That seemed like more of a surprise to her than it was to Amit or any of us. It did, perhaps, point to another ripple. Would the Sheila of my first life (presuming she existed) have chosen Boston College? Or any other highly competitive university? Knowing how she had felt back in her sophomore year, my guess was ‘no.’

We would never know, but it was an interesting conjecture. Amit and Sue had both followed the same path their first-life versions had, but neither Sheila nor Gene had. Gene being on a different path was understandable. Curtis’s death devastated him, upended his senior year, and greatly changed his course. This was, perhaps, the course he should always have been on.

Or, perhaps, nearly two years of Angie’s intimate influence, and even more years of our study group, were the difference here.

None of them would be in Houston during the time we were, so we wished them well and said we would see them soon. That had the side effect of confirming that we wouldn’t be back until at least the 7th of January, a fact Jas and Paige seized on gleefully as further evidence that our trip was longer than we would own up to.

Marshall was doing great, as I expected he would be. Curtis was a major influence on him, but so were his coaches. And, first and foremost, his mama. All of them were in sync, too, the others only reinforcing the standards Marshall already had for himself. Amelia would never simply ‘rest easy,’ but I was certain her boy was going to make something of himself, and most likely more than she had dared hope thus far.

The coaches thought he would start next year, and Coach Brown himself had come by and told Marshall that the NFL was well within his reach if he continued to develop at the pace he was on. I’m sure Mack Brown had said that to a number of players who never made it to the big time, but I doubted he was lying, either. It came back to the same thing we always said: some things take luck, but luck won’t do you much good in the long term if it’s not backed by effort and carefully developed skill. Cammie and I would have won a few tournaments if we had just relied on luck, perhaps, but we never would have sniffed elimination rounds at ToC or Nationals if we hadn’t worked our asses off. Marshall would never be starting if he hadn’t worked his off, either.

Unfortunately, we would miss Marshall, too, most likely. We would overlap in Houston for only a few days, and none of them felt like they would be options to meet up. Given that, we would get together as soon as we could.

We didn’t call Laura or Jess, since we’d talked to them just a few days ago and would talk to them within the week. There were other friends to check on, though, and we did. We had exceeded expectations at maintaining many of our high school friendships, and I was increasingly confident we would continue to do so. In my experience thus far, the first year was the hardest one. Once you’d kept in contact that long, it became easier to stay in contact.

We tentatively planned a party for Friday night. Perhaps even a large one. We wanted as many people as possible from the multiple study groups to come over and enjoy our hospitality. It wasn’t going to be a blowout, though. We weren’t even going to offer alcohol. BYOB would be fine, but that was the limit. Finals were yet to come, and this was a ‘thank you’ for their helping us study as well as a ‘let’s kick ass, then repeat it all next year!’ type of event.

I checked with Darla, and she loved the idea of a Saturday date. It seemed quite likely it would involve one room or another at our house. Which one was up in the air.

I didn’t want to get too ambitious yet. Some things were going to wait, either because it would tease her or because she needed some time to really settle into the new relationship we had formed. I, at least, was sure she needed that time, even if she wasn’t.

On the other hand, I had already penciled in the following Friday for her. The parents would hardly care if we arrived on Friday the 20th after they were in bed (or nearly so) or on Saturday the 21st. It was important enough to justify the delay, especially since we would spend considerably more time with the parents than Jas and Paige were aware of.

The evening was spent hanging out, then spending about an hour soaking in the hot tub. I enjoyed it, and the others (including Candice and Sherry) did, too. They were becoming ever more comfortable with it, and exposure of boobs, pussies, and (in my case) a cock was shrugged off.

I was certain both Candice and Sherry noticed. Candice was familiar, after all, though it had been years. She didn’t seem particularly interested, and I was glad of that. Sherry seemed more interested, but I was pretty sure it was just curiosity. I had no way of knowing whether she had ever seen one outside of photographs before me.

Heck, Cammie noticed. She had seen it before, though. Even seen it in action, for that matter. I couldn’t fault her for noticing. I certainly noticed her beautiful body, even if it was almost entirely off-limits save for platonic contact.

Well, and the very occasional kiss.

I got a partial answer about Sherry, though it lacked an enormous amount of context. Partly to avoid dangly bits upsetting some girls, I was up and out and into the now well-stocked changing room a bit before the girls. Jas followed me closely, and she didn’t close the door entirely.

As I was drying off, I heard a hasty, whispered conversation between at least some of the girls. Sherry seemed to be one of them. Angie gave me a wink when she came in that seemed to confirm it was about me. Sherry seemed just the slightest bit red when she came in, and her gaze going anywhere but me confirmed that.

Perhaps I would find out more later. I had a plan for tomorrow that might help.

Once in the bedroom, Jas hugged and kissed me.

“So...” she said. “Resuming our conversation about Darla.”

“Yes?”

“There’s something Darla refused to tell me. She said you could tell me, but she wasn’t going to.”

“I’m ... not sure,” I said. “Context?”

“The context has something to do with me. I think. She was really vague.”

“Oh!” I said. “I’m pretty sure I know what it was. We had a really ... interesting ... conversation. She started by pretty much saying that girls do nothing for her. Sex-wise, I mean. Which, really, was all she had to say.”

“Definitely. Which means anything else she said consisted of hints.”

“That’s how I took it. Trying to get as close to her actual words as possible, she said she couldn’t really imagine wanting to do anything to a girl. Except kissing — she specifically excluded kissing.”

“That seems consistent so far, if ... well, I see the nuance,” Jas said. “Interesting. And kissing is fun!”

“Kissing is a lot of fun! Anyway ... it’s the same thing again. She could have just stopped there. Instead, she immediately went on to listing a bunch of other things she would have said she would hate a few months ago that we just proved she thoroughly enjoys.”

“Well ... okay, then. That’s not just leaving the door open a crack. It’s...”

“It’s putting it on me,” I said. “The example she gave me was my sending you between her legs. That’s ... passive, obviously. I’m taking it as a hint, obviously. Maybe we will and maybe we won’t, but...”

“But it’s on the table because she put it there.”

“Yeah. She carefully distinguished between, say, her doing something actively with a girl and fingers or tongues doing something to her. Pretty much, if I could do it without using my cock, it felt like she was maybe saying it was okay if a girl did it. That’s how I’d read it, anyway,” I said.

“Which also makes sense. I get the emotional difference, and it’s actually a big one. Twice over! She would know it’s a girl, and it’s adding a person, which ... I mean, heck, that’s a high hurdle! She likes guys, but I daresay adding another guy is absolutely, completely, one hundred percent off the table.”

“I hadn’t gone down that path in my mind, but ... yeah. Mind you, it would only be okay with me if she specifically asked for it. It goes without saying that it would be fine by me if you wanted it.”

She smiled widely, hugging and kissing me.

“I know. Believe me, I do know! My feelings haven’t changed, but I know it’s about my feelings. They could change, with the right guy, and that’s one-on-one or two-on-one. Or ... heck. Two on two is possible. Not Mama and Papa’s way, but ... well. Hypothetically, imagine Angie and Paige were Allan and Paige, say. And Allan was, somehow, close enough to be in the inner circle. Would we? I don’t know, but it’s possible. I think, right now ... eh. A one-shot thing with ... oh, heck. Harrison Ford! That’s a good example.”

“The older man! I see!”

She giggled.

“Technically, you’re much older than Harrison! And, yes, part of me is well aware of that. You being the older, sophisticated divorcé who sweeps the lovely young girl off her feet, romances her, and makes her his is a really cherished mental image for me. I see both sides of you, back and forth as they fit.”

“Excepting unusual circumstances, then.”

She grinned.

“Harrison is hot. Married, so he’s not actually an option, but if he wasn’t. For that matter, and much older, Sean Connery is hot! I’m tempted! In theory, anyway. Seriously, if either of them knocked on the door and asked, though, it would be... ‘No, I need to think this through. Deeply.’ But it’s on the table.”

“That’s more than fine,” I said. “It always has been. We know we belong to each other.”

“It’s a hot fantasy. The thing is, it’s not entirely out of the realm of possibility. You’ve met Michael J. Fox and Robert Zemeckis. Been in a room with Spielberg. It’s not impossible we’ll bump into hot male stars that push my buttons. When it’s just ‘Oh, heck, he’s hot!’ it’s one thing. I’ve had to start considering what happens if it’s not just ‘hot’ but also actually a real, in-person, in-the-moment possibility. It’s all theoretical, but...”

“We’ll cross that bridge when you come to it,” I said, which made her giggle. “I love you, I will always love you, and if I ask you to not sleep with someone, it’ll be because of something about them, not something about their anatomy.”

“In case I haven’t said it recently, I love you more than words can express!”

“And I love you enormously and beyond compare.”

We kissed a few times, but there was more to say.

“Back to Darla,” I said.

“I was going to say that!”

“The way I read it — and this is a tiny stretch, but ... not much of one — sending her between your legs is also on the table. With other things, she pretty much made it clear she wants me to be pushy and demanding when I feel like it. Which really means she wants me to feel like it. Darla’s a debater. She was very honest with me, but she was also aware of what she was saying, not saying, and implying.”

“That’s how I was hearing it, too, in what you said. Interesting! I’m putting it all on you, too. Planning works, obviously, but if I’m here without Monique or whatever, that’s good as well. You said she mentioned me specifically?”

“I’m not reading too much into that. Some, but you’re the one in an obvious open relationship and who’s comfortable with me. She doesn’t know about Paige as an option, and anyone else really isn’t.”

“Yeah. On the other hand, maybe she’s attracted,” Jas said, grinning.

“Can’t blame her for that!”

“So, that’s that. Anything else?”

I nodded, and said, “On that subject, she said she might ‘Grandma’ the whole thing. That means calling a halt to it.”

“She told me the names. I love that! I mean, the idea, too, but it’s not a new idea. The names are terrific! Total fit with the theme! And you know I’ll respect them.”

“Definitely. We’ll see. I think ... well, by our current tentative timetable, we have months. I imagine something might happen. That’s it on that subject. On another one, she very clearly, unequivocally, put her ass up for plundering.”

Jas giggled and nodded.

“She asked me a lot about that ... earlier. I gather she’s talked to at least a few other girls about it, too. I’m totally not surprised. She’s obviously really curious. And ... I mean, what you did last night mattered to her. It was a big deal, emotionally. No ... it was huge. Her ass won’t be. Even if she totally loves it — which I would bet she will — it won’t matter the same way. It’s...”

Jas stopped and paused, eyes going wide.

“What, honey?” I said.

“Um. So. I want to back up. It’s ... well. There are toys, and toys are toys whether it’s a girl or a guy doing the playing.”

“Interesting!” I said.

“I think a two-on-one might absolutely melt her brain. Not soon, for that, though. It would have to be after her ass had been plundered a few times, we knew she liked it, we also knew a girl wasn’t going to get Grandma’d immediately, and she was ready to be quite relaxed.”

“Am I detecting a hint here?”

“Um...” she said, blushing. “Paige and Angie have toys.”

“That’s a yes.”

“Never said it wasn’t!”

“That’s all I can think of right now, about Darla.”

“Sooooooo...” she said. “If I was to say I was feeling a bit ... little ... right now? And perhaps somewhat red?”

I gave her a playful growl, then a little howl.

“Eep!” she said, giggling. “Big Bad Wolf sighting!”

It turned out that Jas was, in fact, a very good girl. And that she wouldn’t slap me for calling her that. Repeatedly.

And that, sometimes, what a girl really wanted was to get pounded into the mattress.

Repeatedly.

Good thing my plans involved Angie tomorrow! Rest was definitely called for.

Monday, December 9, 1985

As we were getting up, I told Jas that I wanted to spend tonight with Angie and Tuesday night with Paige. She loved the idea, even when I told her it might be better if she didn’t wear Paige out too much. She strongly felt that a bit of wearing out would be just fine, and who would I be to argue?

Besides, Paige was quick to recharge. I was, almost always, going to be the easiest to wear out, no matter what. But I would have a lot of fun getting there!

I drove over to the Bryan police station with Cammie. We headed in just before five and were quickly directed to Al Cooper’s desk. It was in the middle of a room full of desks that looked exactly like a stereotypical TV show police station. The sign on it said ‘Corporal Albert Cooper’.

Corporal Cooper himself turned out to be a late-20s or early-30s black man. Thin, wiry, with a short, close-cropped haircut, he made a good first impression.

“Hello, Corporal Cooper,” I said, extending my hand. “Steve Marshall.”

“A pleasure to meet you!” he said, shaking hands and very slightly testing my grip. “Call me Al!”

“Cammie Clarke,” Cammie said, shaking hands next.

“You’re interested in some housesitting,” he said.

“Yes,” Cammie said. “There are eight of us who live there. We’ll all be out of town. We have two cats, and we have also had a series of minor security concerns. It’s just better if someone’s there.”

He nodded, looking serious.

“Tell me about the security concerns,” he said, taking out a notepad. “I don’t like hearing that.”

Cammie went over the anti-gay graffiti. He didn’t react in particular to the message, just shook his hand at the graffiti itself. I related both my experience at surprising the culprit and also my being attacked on the walk home. That was a long time ago, but it still counted.

I mentioned Detective Frederick, and he said, “Mark is a good guy. We’ve worked together before. I’m still on the beat, but I am going to make detective and I want to be as good at it as he is. We’ll work well together if we have to. I hope we don’t, but if we do, it’s good that I know him.”

“I’ll point you to my lawyer, too. Our lawyer, I probably should say, but ... eh. It’s complicated. If you need him, he’s easy to work with, too.”