Variation on a Theme, Book 6
Copyright© 2024 by Grey Wolf
Chapter 84: Classes and Teases
Sunday, January 19, 1986
I checked the paper in the morning out of what had become a habit. The weather was still warm-ish in Florida. Not hot, but this couldn’t have been ‘the day’ yet.
Challenger’s launch was still scheduled for four days from now, as far as I knew. I hadn’t seen any updates yet.
We would check every day from now until a successful launch or disaster. I couldn’t think of anything I might say to Gene Thomas to sway him that I hadn’t already said.
If they tried a launch on a freezing morning, though, Operation Bomb Threat would swing into action. It would be our last hope.
Church was good. Nothing big, but it didn’t have to be ‘big.’ We hadn’t attended in a month, and plenty of people welcomed us back and asked about our vacation, which was nice.
Asking about our vacation inevitably turned into admiration of shiny objects and best wishes for the brides-to-be (along with the occasional ‘congratulations’ aimed at me).
Very different from the last time we’d set foot in a church. I had to wonder how things were going for Mom and Dad.
I found that out this afternoon. Mom and Dad had gone, and it had been ‘fine.’ It seemed entirely clear that ‘fine’ was not acceptable to Mom. Nor Dad, but this was Mom’s call in the end. She had told some of her friends about the engagements. Most of them were happy. At least two couples weren’t, if I was reading between the lines correctly. Two might well be enough, considering these were friends. The overtly anti-gay people at the church were already not Mom’s friends, after all.
I didn’t intervene, but I was ready to help however I could. It was slightly regrettable that the ELCA merger hadn’t fully happened within the ‘liberal’ Lutheran branches, but the merger agreements were already in place and things were happening. They could pick any of the merging branches and be fairly certain of where things were going.
Dr. Ott was irreplaceable, of course, but he was going to retire sooner or later, anyway. Maybe sooner, if the denomination leaders continued to be upset with him. I felt certain that what was keeping him from retiring was the obligation he felt to his congregation, but the denomination could mess with that and might do so. Assigning a firebrand conservative to be the junior minister, for instance, might do the trick.
In any case, Mom and Dad knew they were on borrowed time with him. It didn’t matter, though. We had put a clock in play, and that clock read ‘the summer of 1987.’ Not being able to talk about engagements seemed to already be a bridge too far for Mom, but her daughter’s marriage being off the table? That would be the end for certain.
We also talked about jewelers. Dad had some ideas and promised to ask his customers for more suggestions. I was pretty sure I would get a good list of candidates. How we would whittle it down from there was a mystery, for now. We would almost certainly need a trip to Houston to interview the final candidates.
We talked to a bunch of other people, of course. Lizzie and Janet were still thrilled about having a Best Man. They hadn’t settled on a date in July, except that it wouldn’t be the first weekend. The Lucie Stern Community Center was booked then, both on Saturday and Sunday. They had an agreement that the Center would call them if anyone tried to book any other weekend days and they could take it or give it away. That gave them time to make sure photographers, videographers, florists, caterers, bakers, and everything else were all arranged, and that it was a good date for all of their must-be-there guests.
Including me, of course. Lizzie was still gloating about being able to lead me around the dance floor while I was wearing my kilt. It was probably the most fun she was ever going to have while holding a man in her arms, after all.
Meg was included in the must-be-there guests. I couldn’t have imagined otherwise. The whole thing was going to turn into a Memorial debate reunion, and Lizzie and Janet were even tentatively planning a debater-only party two days before the wedding.
Well, debate and drama. With the expanded circle, it had to be that way. Steffie might even come!
Our next call was to Grandmother and Professor Berman. He was slightly under the weather, but it sounded like just a cold. At his age, even ‘just a cold’ could matter, but I wasn’t worried. What would be would be, and every conversation was a blessing.
The next call confirmed something Gene had hinted at before. Gene and Sue had joined those of us in the ‘impending nuptials’ club. Their wedding was tentatively scheduled for early June 1987. Good timing, since we could attend their wedding and they could attend ours, since we were sticking to early to mid-July. It would, almost certainly, not conflict with Cammie or Mel’s, either. They were tentatively leaning toward right after finals in May. That would probably let them get back from their honeymoon in time for Gene and Sue’s wedding.
Or, perhaps they might honeymoon in New Orleans. Or have part of it there.
Our wedding would effectively be a second Debate reunion, just one year after the first. Gene’s wouldn’t be as much of one, partly by design. They were getting married in New Orleans in a fairly small venue. Ours would be in Houston, making it convenient for a lot of people, and in a much larger space. And Cammie and Mel weren’t going to try, since only one of them was a debater in the first place.
Gene and Sue hadn’t heard about our engagements, either, so best wishes went back and forth. We didn’t snitch on Lizzie and Janet, but we did suggest they let Lizzie and Janet know.
Marshall, meanwhile, wasn’t engaged or even close. But his girlfriend seemed to be a keeper, so far. Curtis, Marsha, Gene, and Sue had all met her and had positive impressions. She was in pre-law, right up everyone’s alley, and had the same grades and SAT scores the rest of us had. In fact, that had both been a stumbling block and a bonding moment for them.
We hadn’t heard the whole story until now. Sandra, Marshall’s girlfriend, had been in one of his classes, but barely knew him. She’d heard some of the talk about his being a football hero and had pretty much ignored him. Handsome, sure, but big, strong, and handsome by themselves didn’t do enough for her to be interested.
What did was finding out he was the closest person behind her academically in that class, then finding out it wasn’t a fluke and that he was pre-law as well. And was very serious about it. Big, strong, handsome, and smart was much more to Sandra’s liking. Finding out Marshall also had a sense of humor — and some credentials to back that up — was even more to her liking.
Meanwhile, Marshall liked her sense of humor, found her very attractive, and enjoyed what had become a friendly academic rivalry.
They definitely weren’t ‘serious,’ not yet, but they were ‘exclusive’ and seeing where things went.
I was thrilled for him, and so were the girls. Marshall was a quality guy. Having someone who could keep up with him and be a real partner would be a huge plus, no matter where life took him.
We joked about meeting her at Gene’s wedding. The subtext was clear, though — if they were still together a year and a half from now, that would say quite a bit for how things were going, all by itself. The odds were we would meet her sooner anyway, really.
Sheila and Amit weren’t engaged, but there were some little hesitations around the subject that suggested it was on their minds. I thought the odds were very good they might be the next ones up. Gene and Sue had turned into nearly a necessity by this point. Amit and Sheila weren’t there, but they seemed very much in love and highly compatible. Unless Amit wanted a wife shorter than him, or the Indian thing stopped working for Sheila, I guessed we would hear an announcement by the summer.
It was at least somewhat possible that the stumbling block might be a trip to Britain to meet the extended family. They hadn’t done that yet, and it could matter. It hadn’t held Jas and me back, but ours was almost the opposite: it made much more sense to be engaged before the extended family meeting. No one was going to imagine Sheila was trying to bamboozle the hot Indian guy, though, so the same logic didn’t apply.
Not that Amit wasn’t handsome. He was. But, relatively speaking, he wasn’t the catch that Jasmine was, at least to my eyes. I would be entirely happy if Sheila vociferously disagreed!
Connie and Jimmy, who I wished I talked to more, were also doing well. They were both on the phone when we called. I wasn’t sure what their timetable was for an engagement (if any, honestly), but they seemed quite interested in ours. Engagement or not, it sounded like they were going strong. Connie was deep into her pre-med work. Despite her attempts to downplay it, Jimmy made it sound as if she was nearly the equivalent of Angie, far ahead of her peers and acting almost as much like a T.A. as a fellow student. Knowing Connie, that hardly surprised me.
I talked to Dave Mayrink as well. No engagement there, but the tone of his voice and the questions he asked about my engagement suggested he was actively thinking about it. I really didn’t know him well at this point in my life, but I was pretty sure Carolyn could do a lot worse. This wasn’t my first-life Dave, who I’d had some reservations about in terms of his readiness to get married. Nineteen-year-old Dave here seemed considerably more mature and grounded than twenty-four-year-old Dave had seemed in my first life.
I hoped for the best for both of them. They deserved it!
After getting off the phone with all of them, I made a call I’d been putting off for too long. It had been quite a while since I’d talked to Anderson and Rita, and I really didn’t want to lose them as friends.
Fortunately, I hadn’t. Rita was happy to catch up a bit, and thrilled that so many of the kids she’d known were doing well. She was downright jumping for joy (literally — I could hear her feet hit the ground) when she heard that not only were Jas and I, and Angie and Paige, engaged, but also Cammie and Mel, Emily and the twins, and Gene and Sue.
“Oh, my goodness me!” she said. “Five weddings from you all. So far! That’s ... it’s just ... well. I’m sure glad I did such a lousy job of keeping a close eye on you, now! No accidents, five couples, four ceremonies! I’m tickled pink, I am!”
“I’m sure you’ll get invitations to most of them,” I said. “Gene and Sue’s will be small, and in New Orleans, though.”
“As long as they’re in Houston for at least one, we’re all good!” she said. “Oh, and, I’m missing the big news. Susan and Kimmie are engaged, too! Just recently. I hear they caught the engagement bug from your friends Lizzie and Janet.”
“I’m going to be the Best Man at their wedding,” I said.
“Oh, that will be a hoot!” she said.
“Dancing backward with Lizzie, with her in a tux. We did that at their prom.”
She burst out laughing.
“I would love to have seen that!”
“This one will be better, and I’ll make sure you get pictures.”
“Better how?” she asked.
“I own a kilt now.”
“A ... kilt. And you’ll be following a woman wearing a tux! Oh, my stars! I think Susan and Kimmie will be invited. They’re fairly good friends, now. I won’t spoil your surprise, hon. They’re going to just die!”
After we’d caught up, I spoke for a bit with Anderson. He was happily keeping up with PROMISE, was thrilled by all of the success everyone was happy, and was looking forward to the weddings.
He had two jewelers to recommend. I was pretty sure both were slightly on the high end, but not ridiculously so. He was actually quite happy that we were redoing heirloom rings. In his opinion, the usual advice was ‘hogwash,’ and the goal was to wind up with a ring the bride-to-be loved for what it meant, and how it looked, not how much it cost.
“You can just pour money into those things,” he said, and I could see him shaking his head as he did it. “It usually doesn’t make them better. Sometimes it just makes them tacky. Certainly, I’m not saying just go get a crystal or a cubic zirconia, though I’m glad you used those as placeholders! An engagement ring should be a meaningful gift. But an elegant piece of jewelry should be just that. Elegant, not loud. Rita’s ring was ... meaningful. I could have paid ten times as much. She’s much happier that I didn’t, because now we decide what to do with the rest together. And she has the ring that speaks to her, not a ring that’s about me bragging about how well I’m doing. Family rings are the best, though. You know you’re part of something bigger than yourself.”
“That’s exactly how we feel,” I said.
We talked for a bit longer, and then parted with promises to talk again before too long.
I owed Anderson a lot. Quite a lot, really, in so many ways. We all did. Rita opened up the house partly because of Mike, but also because of Anderson. He had been a gracious host for three years and remained a good friend even after his son had nearly blown everything up. Kyle was part of our team thanks to Anderson, too.
We talked briefly about Mike and Trish. No wedding bells, but they were living together and doing well. I would have to tell Angie. It wasn’t, perhaps, ‘redemption,’ but it didn’t have to be. I wanted Mike to be happy. Trish, too. We’d had our moments, but Trish hadn’t proven to be the snake she might have been, and Mike had made what seemed like a poor decision, but one that now looked more reasonable.
My last call of the day was to Darla. She was grumpy that it had taken me so long to call. Cutely grumpy, though, and I didn’t think it was even vaguely sincere.
“How are you, Little Red?” I said.
“You know how I am,” she said, giggling a bit.
I was fairly certain that meant Louise was there.
“Been a good girl for me?”
She growled, just a little, and said, “Yeah. Fortunately!”
I chuckled and said, “One?”
“Just! Unfortunately!”
“Want more?”
“That would be wonderful! I’d love to!” she said.
“So ... two. Tonight. Both of them. We’ll talk tomorrow about more.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Mister Marshall.”
“Tell me something. Are you going to explain this to Louise?” I said.
“Um ... only if I have to, probably.”
I chuckled.
“No girl talk?”
“Some things are a bit more complicated than others,” she said.
“I’ll ponder telling you to explain it.”
“Hrmph! Well, that might be annoying, but we can make it work.”
“Which is your favorite date night this week?” I said.
“Wed-” she started. Then she stopped. “Um. Maybe. I guess it depends on whether we could ... what your ... weekend looks like.”
“Hoping to not have to go home?”
“That would be good, I think.”
I chuckled a bit more.
“We’ll see. Friday, maybe. Or Saturday, but there’s church on Sunday.”
“Either! I’ll figure it out.”
“Take care of yourself, Little Red,” I said.
“Oh, I will!”
“Twice.”
“Yup!” she said.
“I love you.”
She hesitated, then said, “I ... love you, too.”
Well, that was going to be a conversation with Louise, unless Louise already knew. From the way she’d said it, I thought Louise hadn’t. She’d heard enough to understand it was a possibility for me, or I thought she had, but it was still probably new information.
And information Darla was willing to share.
We would see. I had my own reasons for wanting her to sleep over here, of course, and the first of those reasons was Jasmine. Darla might get a very big surprise. I hoped she liked it — or, at least, didn’t hate it. Or, worse, have to get her grandmother’s basket involved.
I caught everyone up on Mike and Trish. As I had somewhat expected, that turned into an unanswerable question: was Trish less of a snake because Angie had been an antagonist this time instead of an accomplice? We all thought the answer was a qualified ‘yes’ to that.
Did that matter? Quite possibly. It was another little ripple in a sea of them, but we had learned never to take the little ones for granted. Sometimes the little ripples turn out to mean a lot more than you think they did at first.
Curtis might be the epitome, but there were so many more. And ... it was entirely possible that, for every ripple we saw, another two or three might be out there as well. There had been a new judge on the Fifth Circuit in my first life, after all. It just hadn’t been Curtis. What was that person doing now? Probably running their district court, and that meant some other judge wasn’t. Might they rule differently in a case, changing the lives of those involved?
It was madness even trying to think about it. Best to savor the happy ripples and not start thinking too deeply about the mass butterfly culling that might be going on around us. And all of the fluttering newborn butterflies that never would have existed without us, too.
Monday, January 20, 1986
Class was back in session, and we spent most of the day collecting syllabi, figuring out what our new professors were like, deciding where to sit, scoping out potential study group members, and so forth.
At least I had more classes with friends this semester.
My first class was CS 311: Analysis of Algorithms. Angie was here, and so were some of my old CS buddies: Carl Peterson, Hank Carlson, and Paul Kensington. Carl, in particular, was fun to catch up with. He knew Marshall, after all, and it turned out they were also keeping in touch. I think I had been part of the inspiration for that, which was a good thing all around.
We would study together, which might amount to my being their TA. This had been a class I’d struggled with as an undergrad, then aced in grad school, after all. I knew it sucked the first time through. It was heavy math — the ‘symbolic logic’ and ‘proof’ sort of math — and that throws people who just want to write code and debug programs for a loop sometimes.
It was, however, really valuable. If you don’t understand why some algorithms are computationally far more expensive than others, you’ll make stupid mistakes. Some things are very hard to compute that seem, at first glance, like they’re not. Knowing how to classify things helps avoid stupid ‘I can code that — it’ll be easy!’ mistakes.
The thing is: it may actually be easy to code. It’ll just take forever to run, and you’ll never be able to optimize it enough to make a true solution run efficiently. Instead, you’ll have to look for statistically ‘good enough’ solutions.
After CS 311, I had nearly an hour to get from Zachary — the Engineering building (located at the north end of campus, relatively near our house and also near Blocker, the main Business School building) — to Read, the home of Martial Arts (and literally in the shadow of Kyle Field — Read was under the east-side stands). Even on a campus as big as A&M’s, an hour was plenty of time, so Angie and I stopped at the library and checked out the newspapers. Nothing new on Challenger. Soon, I hoped! If it launched on the 23rd, I had high hopes of it reaching orbit. But I doubted very much it would launch that early.
Martial Arts was fun. I could spar again, and spar I did. I also got thrown, kicked, and punched (all with pads, so nothing hurt me). Plenty of girls wanted to beat up their favorite attacker-surrogate, and I was up for the challenge.
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