Variation on a Theme, Book 6
Copyright© 2024 by Grey Wolf
Chapter 85: Changes in Plans
Wednesday, January 22, 1986
I stopped dead in my tracks while flipping through the Batt and stared at a listing. A local theater — one I’d never heard of — was hosting a production of ‘Greater Tuna’ this week and next week. Tomorrow’s performance featured a champagne reception and a chance to meet the writers, Joe Sears and Jaston Williams, who we’d seen perform it in Houston.
This was, pretty much, a ‘drop everything’ moment, at least in my opinion.
It was also ... complicated. Darla would love it. Amy ... might also love it. I wouldn’t take both to the same performance, but did I want to see it twice? Three times?
After talking with the girls, we decided on two showings. I was going to invite Darla to tomorrow’s performance first. If she wanted to go, great! Otherwise, I would invite Amy. Someone had to be asked first. And, if Darla did go tomorrow, I would ask Amy to next week’s performance.
Darla voted yes to the play, so that was that.
It took a bit of doing, because she was playing shy, but I pried enough details about her evening out of her to know she had reached four, or maybe five. Or possibly six.
And that she was surprisingly unbothered by the taste.
And that I was not to take that as license to assume other, similar, tastes would be to her liking.
I gave her the very same instructions for tonight. That had her fuming a bit. And, also, smirking a bit.
She might have thought I wouldn’t notice it.
Maybe.
Amethyst was skeptical of the play, based on the title and a short description, but trusted my judgment enough to set her doubts aside and agreed to see it.
She had iffy news for this week, though.
“One of my classes is based around team projects. We have a Thursday meeting and a Friday meeting this week. ‘Kicking things off,’ they say. I ... it will probably be fine. Perhaps they will surprise me. After this week, we will meet every week, alternating between Wednesdays and Thursdays. Some people prefer one, some the other, and this is the compromise we agreed upon. I ... do not prefer that, but ... it will be fine.”
“It will,” I said. “We’re not rushing.”
“I am rushing!” she said, playing up her ‘social voice.’ “This is ... I am ... well. Next week, we will see. I am ... we will see the play Friday? And then ... see if there is ... more?”
“I like that,” I said. “Very much.”
She sighed.
“I like you very much,” she said. “It is surprising, but so ... I am so happy.”
Delivered in her Wednesday voice, that was hilarious. I might have said ‘unintentionally hilarious,’ but I thought she knew exactly what she was doing there.
“I am as well,” I said.
“Next Friday, then?”
“I’ll stop by in between, I’m certain,” I said.
“Take care, and do not die,” she said.
“Be well and healthy,” I said.
We kissed very quickly — she was working — and then I headed off to get tickets.
I called the box office for Stage Center, the local theater producing ‘Greater Tuna’, and wound up talking to someone named Mona.
She told me they weren’t sold out tonight and had well over the ten tickets I needed. Angie and Paige, Cammie and Mel, Candice and Sherry, Darla and me, and — in a slight surprise — Jas and Monique were all going. I confused Mona by asking for each pair of tickets to be seated separately. Once I explained that these were couples and that, while everyone knew each other, each couple wanted their own ‘date night,’ it made more sense to her. She was willing to put five sets of tickets at will-call as long as I promised to pay for all of them.
Trusting of her, but they weren’t sold out. I would give her a nice tip, assuming she was working in the box office when I picked them up.
This was not Darla’s big date. That would be Friday night. Jas and Monique were kicking me out of the bedroom for a while tomorrow, though, but that was partly because Jas would be helping me on Friday, most likely.
I added two tickets next Friday for Amy and me. If any others wanted a second date, they hadn’t told me yet. There was plenty of time to buy tickets if they decided to attend again.
Tonight was another GSS meeting. I didn’t go, nor did Jas. We weren’t done with them or anything, but we were distancing ourselves a bit. It wasn’t the ‘reality distortion field,’ either, but ... letting Angie and Mel get going was a big deal.
We were still just as much allies as we’d ever been, but GSS didn’t necessarily need allies at their meetings anymore. It was nice for us to just have the quiet house to ourselves for a bit.
It might be another preview of coming attractions. If so, that might not be for long, though. Little ones would demolish our peace and quiet soon enough! And very, very happily, too.
Thursday, January 23, 1986
The other shoe finally dropped. The paper reported that the Challenger launch had been delayed until the 25th. The weather forecast for Florida was showing cooler temperatures coming, as well.
We were approaching the make or break moment. Until we got there, who knew what might happen?
After classes (which had involved a certain amount of Darla-teasing, to both of our great enjoyment), I changed into date-wear. Dark green short-sleeve shirt, black pants, black dress shoes, and my new Scottish cap, off on its first outing in Bryan/College Station.
Darla had picked a burgundy top, a knee-length black skirt, and black heels. Her hair was in her nearly ubiquitous ponytail, though, and the ponytail holder was quite familiar.
I took her out to a steak place in Bryan, relatively near the theater. It was ... there. Darla made it quite enjoyable, though. Not a place I would avoid, but not a place I would seek out again, either. If we were in this part of town anyway, it was still an option.
We danced around anything too specific, at least for now. That included the play. I didn’t want to spoil it for her. Not that it would be easy to spoil. This would be somewhere around my fifth time seeing it, between two lives, and I would likely enjoy it just as much as I ever had.
Still, first times are meant to be special. Even if it’s the first time for a silly, but also very clever, play.
When we arrived, I went right to the ticket counter. Mona was indeed the woman working there. I picked up our pair, tipped my hat to her, then passed her a $20. She was very appreciative and repeatedly told us to enjoy the show.
We did, too. One thing I had not known prior to reading tonight’s program: ‘Greater Tuna’ was now the most produced play in the United States. I hadn’t realized it was that successful! Hats off to Joe and Jaston! I imagined they were probably doing fairly well just from the rights.
I knew they’d never really gotten rich, but they (and their collaborator, Ed Howard, who I’d never met or seen) had built a forty-year career and comfortable lives off of the ‘Tuna’ plays, including command performances for Presidents. That was quite something for two actors largely performing their own work!
Darla was mesmerized from the start. Neither one of us came from ‘small town Texas’ backgrounds at all, but we understood them well enough to get the humor, and in a way where it played equally well for laughs and sympathy. Yes, some of these people were ‘backward,’ but they were also, by and large, doing their best.
‘Greater Tuna’ was biting in a way the other Tuna plays were not. Oh, all of them packed a punch at moments, but the others balanced sweetness and bile better. This one, the first of the plays, sometimes just chased bile with more bile.
Still, it would sneak up on you. Just when you thought someone was just mean, or stupid, or whatever, something would pop up and remind you that there can be good and wisdom in everyone.
The actors tonight weren’t Joe and Jaston-level talents, but they managed. Apparently, an awful lot of actors did. That’s not easy, considering each has to carry nearly a dozen characters (male and female, of all different ages) and change wardrobes at the drop of a hat (sometimes nearly literally). They made each character stand out and never fumbled a costume change.
Darla and I chattered about the show at the intermission, and again after it. When it was done, we joined the champagne reception and toasted the playwrights.
I spoke only briefly to them, congratulating them on what a wonderful work they’d produced, telling them I’d seen it ‘several times,’ and wishing them the best in their future endeavors. That was enough.
I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to see the premiere of a new Tuna play. Maybe, but Joe and Jaston were notorious tinkerers and the premieres often were quite different from the ‘final version.’ Lesser, as well. They simply didn’t know what would work until they had tried it with a live audience, perhaps — and not a curated one, but random people.
On the other hand, maybe that would be good. We could certainly manage it if we wanted to, or at least I thought we could.
This wasn’t going to be a late date, despite Darla’s half-hearted protests, so I drove her back to Krueger.
On the way up, she said, “Do I get instructions?”
“You do,” I said. “Later.”
She pretended to pout the rest of the way to her door. Fortunately, her hall was deserted, so we had quite an enthusiastic goodnight kiss.
After that, she looked up at me, arms around my neck, and said, “And?”
“Enjoy your evening of rest, Little Red. I’m sure you’ll get plenty of attention tomorrow.”
She stamped her foot and groaned.
“Meanie! I want more! Now!”
“Are you sure you want more?” I said.
“I’m very sure!”
“Fine, Little Red,” I said. “Go ahead and touch yourself. In fact, I think ... you have to.”
“Uh-oh!” she said. “How many?”
“Zero,” I said, grinning. “When you think you’re close, lick off your fingers and get to bed.”
“You... you... oh, my God! That’s ... I...”
I caressed her cheek.
“You love it.”
She blushed and looked down. Very softly, she said, “I can’t help it.”
I stroked her cheek a bit more. Softly, I said, “You could, Darla. You are tough, and you can and will kick ass and be your own woman. This works for you because of that, not despite it. You would hate it if I thought you were weak, or if you were weak. But letting yourself be weak works for you. It’s just ... all you have to do is snap your fingers, the spell breaks, and you can do anything you want.”
She suddenly teared up and pressed herself against me.
“That ... it’s... yes!” she said, softly but very emphatically. “All of that! Thank you, Steve. I was almost starting to ... well, question myself.”
“It’s not just a game, Little Red, but it is a game. We know the rules. We know you are the one who decides when we play and, in the end, how we play. I have you right where you want me to, and as long as I’m the Wolf you want, that’s how it’ll be. If I start thinking I’m the Wolf because of my power over you, that’s when I find myself a very lonely Wolf huffing and puffing at your brick house.”
She sniffled again, then kissed me.
“I love you, Steve,” she said.
“And I love you, Darla,” I said.
She quickly wiped away the worst of her tears, then headed into her room. Louise wasn’t there, which was probably lucky. Still, I think all she would have had to do is say ‘happy tears’ and Louise would have understood. Not everything, but more than enough.
Friday, January 24, 1986
NASA had already moved Challenger’s launch date again, this time to the 26th. We would have to follow this very closely, and I wasn’t sure how to do it. This was long before ‘NASA TV’ or anything else. We might have to glue ourselves to cable news or whatever.
Bomb threats weren’t going to call themselves in, and the networks didn’t do live coverage for launches anymore. They hadn’t for quite some time now.
If we got to that cold morning — which looked, from the weather forecasts, to perhaps be the 28th — we might have to call NASA, see if the launch was on, then plan our response on the fly.
We weren’t giving up, either way. Lives were on the line.
Darla had bad news when I saw her in the afternoon. She’d gotten a bad cold, one that had her hacking and sneezing and decidedly not in the mood for fun and games. She fretted a great deal over whether I would come down with it, too. I made it clear that it was a price I would happily pay if necessary.
Given all of that, we put off her big night until next weekend. Amy had next Friday, too, but Darla had taken a step I hadn’t considered. She’d already talked to Amy and let her know tomorrow was up for grabs. Darla told me to go talk to her, so I would. I didn’t want Amy to feel ‘second best,’ but Darla assured me that was silly, and she was almost certainly right.
Of course ... we could go with a weeknight instead of waiting for next weekend. We would see how worked up Darla got. She might simply demand an end to waiting! I had mostly used up my plans for messing with her as it was, and adding a week might just prove to be a letdown.
I didn’t need to decide right now, anyway. Plenty of time for that later.
When I got home, I called Mona at the Stage Center box office. She remembered me, of course, and would be happy to move my tickets from next weekend to tomorrow night if we decided to do so. I told her I would call back later, and that seemed to be fine. I didn’t want to disturb her while she was helping customers, but it sounded like she could handle it.
The tip probably helped. I hadn’t meant to make extra work for her, but at least I’d done well by her in advance.
Instead of going to Hullaballoo Cafe during Amy’s shift, which probably wouldn’t have given us a chance to talk, I arrived around six instead. She was wrapping up as I arrived and handing things off to Kim, whom I’d seen before but hadn’t actually met. Amy seemed quite happy to see me, and introduced me to Kim. She was a tall, leggy blonde, was pleasant in our very brief conversation, and now I ‘knew’ her at least a bit. Might be handy if I wound up coming here at night.
Once we left, Amy took my hand.
“Sorry, but I do have to rush at least a bit. Our meeting is at six-thirty at Evans.”
Evans was Sterling C. Evans, A&M’s main library.
“I’ll walk you there,” I said.
“Thank you. It is good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too.”
She smiled a bit and we set off.
“No picking up Kim,” she said.
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“She has a boyfriend.”
“In that case, she’s off limits,” I said.
“I doubted you would anyway, but ... she has been known to not disclose that. It ... she says she is not serious with him, but ... I have my doubts.”
“But she’s not clearly a cheater.”
Amy nodded.
“Even without your example, I would not have called her out. It is ambiguous.”
“Makes sense. Not ambiguous for me. Unless I meet her boyfriend, or have some clearer communication — say, his number, and a ‘yes, it’s fine to call him and check’ — I would decline. That’s the thing for me — if anyone wants to know, they can check with Jasmine.”
She nodded quickly.
“Jasmine is quite open about things. I like that a great deal. I would have trusted Claire as well, but Jasmine removes all doubts. And she is a genuinely good person. I can see what you see in her.”
I smiled and squeezed her hand.
“You are a genuinely good person, too, Amethyst.”
She got just a hint of a blush and said, “Yes, but you are not marrying me.”
“Would you want to, right now?”
She shook her head.
“No, and that is fair. Not ... not because of you. I would not want to marry anyone right now. If I did, you would easily be at the top of the list.”
“That’s the impression I got from our previous date.”
“I ... this is ... our relationship is very good for me. I do not want a deep, committed relationship where marriage is something I am working toward. That ... I may want that later. There are too many other things I want to do with my life, and I want the freedom to do them on my own terms.”
“I had gotten that from what you said before,” I said.
“Still,” she said. “Actually saying that made me realize how good this is for me, and how flexible you are. Darla wants such a relationship very strongly. I would find it a hindrance.”
“You’re much closer to Jess. She also isn’t sure she ever wants a relationship like that.”
“Perhaps one day I will meet her. She sounds like a most interesting person, from what people tell me,” Amy said.
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