Chapter 4

October 22nd 1983

That Saturday had started incredibly well and I arrived at my best friend’s house still smiling like an idiot.

“What are you up to?” My best friend wondered, clearly a little worried that I was getting ready to pull something on him.

“Me?” I replied, feigning innocence, and I’m sure doing a horrible job of it. Seeing him cross his arms and narrow his eyes, I relented with a laugh. “I’m just having a great day, can’t I have a great day?”

Jake’s entire response was the slight raising of an eyebrow. We’d both practiced our, ‘don’t bullshit me’ eyebrow raise, so I knew he wasn’t budging.

Dropping the (apparently unsettling) grin, I held up my hands. “Seriously, I’m not up to anything, I’m just happy.”

“That level of happiness isn’t natural. I’ve never seen you smile like that before, I’m worried about you.” Jake concluded, his ‘serious’ face turning into what I’m sure he thought was a ‘concerned look’. He mostly looked constipated.

Of course, we, being teenaged boys of the 80’s, immediately devolved into accusations of who was ‘being gay’ for having and/or showing feelings for another guy. The fact that we were both laughing the whole time would be the only clue to an outsider that we were not genuinely trying to verbally destroy one another. Again, teenaged boys ... what a mess.

We were still sniping half an hour later, occasionally conceding ‘good one’ at a particularly inventive insult. We’d finished stretching out and our warm up exercises. We finally grew quiet as we focused on our form during each rep of our individual workout routines.

I had been glad to hear that Jake hadn’t had any trouble from his dad. But, joking aside, he still seemed a bit cautious with me as we talked between stations. It didn’t occur to me that my ditching him yesterday would cause him concern. As I considered Jake’s attitude, I wondered ‘why should I be concerned?’. I was on top of the world, who cared who Jake was dating ... Oh!

I finally remembered my turmoil, and the way that I had cut out on our scheduled swimming practice.

“Hey Jake, old buddy, old pal?”

“Oh boy, what stupid challenge do you want to lose now?” His sarcasm was muted by his grin, even if he did still seem a bit on edge.

I grinned like an idiot, memories of yesterday and this morning made it impossible not to do so. Clearing my throat to get his attention, I met his curious gaze, and tried to be somewhat serious.

“No challenge, I just wanted to let you know that I was dating someone. You know, sharing the big news like a good friend.” I dug at him, but I was still smiling like an idiot, so he knew I wasn’t really pissed off.

“Damn, dude, is that why you jetted yesterday?” He asked, jumping up from his lunges.

“Yep.” I answered. We ‘bro-hugged’, slapped hands in our handshake, and then he had to ruin it.

“She must be a good fuck.” He was grinning as he said this. There was no malice in his voice, none of the nasty tone that many of our classmates used when talking (lying) about girls. He was just putting it out there, almost certainly because I looked like a guy who was well and truly satisfied. Jake would know, he had admitted that he’d been having sex with Shelly for months.

I Knew all of that. All of it.

I still slugged him.

He had no idea I would be upset, so he had not been ready at all. Honestly, although I’d been doing Tai Chi with my dad for over half a decade now, I wasn’t any kind of fighter. I’d not even put any thought into the strike, so my fist caught just below his shoulder after bouncing off of the meat of his bicep.

“What the hell, dude?” Jake was so shocked that he hadn’t even gotten ready to hit me back. He just stood there.

Which is a good thing because, unlike me and my very healthy, very relaxing and centering Tai-Chi, Jake was trained in how to fight. Not only did he have a high red belt in karate, but his dad had taught him how to box. I did not want to trade blows with him!

While all of that went through my mind, I was mostly just pissed off at myself for hitting my friend for no actual reason. “Sorry! Shit, shit! I almost yelled the second expletive, “I’m sorry man, this is really raw for me, I ... shit,” I finished lamely, shoulders drooping.

I almost whispered this time, “I think,” I dropped my gaze, thankful that he was still relaxed, as opposed to getting ready to pummel me.

“I, uhm. I think I love her,” I admitted to my best friend. This was almost as serious as telling Laurel herself, which upon later reflection, I would realize that I hadn’t actually done yet. Oops.

All the previous joking about ‘gay feelings’ was forgotten, I knew I could trust Jake with this. Maybe you’ve had good friends in your life. Maybe you still do. But I guarantee you that you’d envy the bond that Jake and I had.

“Dude, that’s awesome!” Jake came forward and clapped me on the shoulder. “No wonder you’re so touchy!” He grinned slyly at me.

“So, don’t hit me again, but there’s no way you haven’t had sex if you’re that far gone over her. Right? Who is she? Wait, no, I know, it’s that Laurel chick from class, right?”

My ‘light speed brain’ engaged, and I marvelled at how clueless I must have been. Even Jake, who had only been in the same class with me for two months, knew that Laurel had a crush on me! There was another thought, just at the edge of my mind. I knew that it had something to do with how I felt about Laurel versus how Jake felt about Shelly, but ... it wouldn’t coalesce into anything solid!

Shaking my head ruefully, I exhaled a long laugh and then simply raised my hand for a high-five. “Dude,” I smiled widely at him as we did the down-low. “You are right, about everything.”

We returned to our workout, and I was thankful that we were in his home-gym. I don’t think I could open up at the “Y”, too afraid to have some kids find us gabbing like, well, like girls.

But gab we did. We discussed how he’d gotten together with Shelly and how far they’d gone. We talked about the fact that I had gotten a wake-up blow-job before he had. Actually, he was mostly jealous because he’d not once been able to swing a full night with his girlfriend. And I had. On our first date. With her parents full knowledge and approval.

Jake and I mulled over several (increasingly idiotic) theories on why her folks were Ok with me boinking their precious baby girl, and ultimately admitted that nothing we came up with made any sense.

We were winding down after a final, brutal series of leg exercises when Jake opened up a little more. “She’s a lot more experienced than I am. I mean, duh, I was a virgin before her. But she doesn’t have problems doing anything I want.” He paused, and I realized that he was actually uncomfortable. “I mean, she’s the one that suggested ... well, doing it in her butt.”

It blew my mind when he admitted that Shelly was ‘into anal’. Then the rest of what he said caught up to me and I realized that my ex-girlfriend might have gotten really messed up by watching that orgy with Mia and I. Why else would she have gone out and gotten all of that ‘experience’?

But Jake made it clear that she had initiated sex, and that she really enjoyed it. I had to shake off where that led, too many memories of my parent’s adult parties superimposing Shelly into their midst. Nope!

Despite our open dialogue, there was no ‘comparing technique’. I’d shown him the books on pleasing your partner the day after my parents gave them to me. There were a lot of dog-eared pages in those books, and I had many plans for ‘practicing’ with Laurel. But we didn’t go so far as to suggest page numbers.

Jake admitted that he had impressed Shelly with his ‘book knowledge’, but it kinda scared him how much ‘real knowledge’ she seemed to have. I had no idea what to say to that, so I kept silent.

Soon our cooldown stretches were finished and I was heading home to do my chores. Jake and I had a new inside joke as we told each other, “Have a good time tonight!” with knowing grins.

Vern seemed to be in a good mood as I sat with him in the living room while ‘the women’ prepared the meal. I asked him about his work and found out that he didn’t just manage a hardware store, he Owned the ‘Andersen Hardware and Automotive Supply’ chain. I think I vaguely knew about half a dozen of them in the valley area.

He spent a while telling me how he had taken some seed money and built a single hardware store into the region’s leader in hardware and automotive parts sales.

I wasn’t sure what impressed me more, Vern’s accomplishments or his down-to-earth manner. I also noted as I thought about their home, that they didn’t live like what I imagined ‘rich people’ lived like. It was spacious enough for the three of them, had nice furniture, and was in a good neighborhood ... but it wasn’t, I don’t know, a ‘rich people’ house.

Vern regaled me with the importance of work, the importance of management being a part of day-to-day operations, and the role that his time in the Marines played in making him the man that he was today. Then he was shot down.

“Stop recruiting the boy, he’s only fourteen!” It was the closest to a raised voice I’d heard out of Verlene, though it was clearly pitched just loud enough to carry down the hall. I found myself grinning right along with Vern in response. It was kind of surreal the way we reacted so similarly.

Our conversation turned to sports, Vern had been a linebacker and wrestled in high school. He was quite proud of his daughter’s athleticism, but he somehow knew a lot about my sports accomplishments. “Laurie has had her eye on you for over a year now,” he said, by way of explanation when I wondered about his knowledge.

We were called to ‘supper’ before I could explore that any further.

I had a really great time with the Andersen’s that evening. The food was incredible, I had a third helping of the roast, and the atmosphere was genuinely fun and lighthearted. I could not recall a family meal with my parents where everyone was so involved in the conversation.

Laurel shyly told us that she had done all of the prep and cooking of the pot roast that we had eaten. She had waited until we’d finished eating and we were all making contented, full-tummy noises, which only made me more proud of her. She wasn’t fishing for compliments, we’d already given those with our obvious satisfaction with the meal.

Once her father and I had voiced our praise, her mom got up and pulled a glass pan from the warming drawer. The room filled with the scent of cinnamon and apples, and I groaned out loud. It smelled wonderful, but I was beyond stuffed!

I tried to protest a lack of room for dessert, but Vern told me that I’d regret missing out on Verlene’s apple cobbler. Laurel ended the debate as she sat in my lap and fed me from her bowl. It was amazing!

The cobbler was slightly cooled from the oven and served with old fashioned vanilla ice cream. There were these crunchy bits of cinnamon-sugar rolled oats, and the apples were the perfect mix of sweet and tart. The sugary-sweetness balanced with the creamy vanilla ... and I was soon shocked to realize that I’d probably eaten more than half of Laurel’s desert!

She gave me a quick smooch when I tried to apologize, and told me that it was just more compliments for her momma’s desert. Then, in one of those moments that I should have realized the importance of, she promised that she would learn to make it every bit as well ‘for us’.

I hadn’t heard of the term ‘food coma’ yet, but that didn’t stop me from nearly falling into one.

Verlene shooed us ‘men folk’ out of the kitchen with, “Go gossip in the parlor.”

“You have a parlor?” I joked, as Vern and I moved toward the living room. We laughed about ‘women putting on airs’ as we shuffled down the hallway. I swear I would have moved faster if I fell over and rolled.

Vern gave a couple of grunts as he settled on the loveseat and pushed it back to recliner mode. I would have risked mocking his noises, except I had to stifle my own moan in relief as I settled onto the couch. I did groan a few minutes later when my girlfriend reclaimed her seat - in my lap.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved having her in my arms ... but, I was stuffed and I just wanted a nap!

Verlene came into the room, put a cup of coffee on the small table next to the loveseat, and asked if Laurel or I wanted anything. “No thank you, momma,” was my lap-warmer’s response as I politely shook my head, “No thank you, ma’am ... uh, Verlene.”

Having dinner, or supper as the Andersen’s called it, at my girlfriend’s house was already a new experience. Learning to address them by their first names was going to take some practice. I don’t know why I could think of them by their first names, but saying it out loud, especially in their home, just felt wrong.

Verlene was coaxing Vern to his recliner, and I saw his shirt stretch over his chest. Looking over the muscles showing on Vern’s frame, I couldn’t resist asking. “How the heck do you keep from blowing up like a balloon eating like that, sir ... uhm, Vern?”

Laurel and her parents laughed and I felt relieved that the joke hadn’t fallen flat. I guess I was pretty relaxed because as Verlene leaned over her husband, I actually noticed that she was in really good shape for an older woman. She wasn’t far over five feet tall, and I already knew that she filled her calf-length dress quite nicely. But, as Verlene was settling onto her husband’s lap, the fabric was pulled tight and showed her body to be much more shapely than I would expect.

Catching my girlfriend’s eye, I nodded to her mom as she teased Vern by squeezing his muscles and making exaggeratedly impressed noises.

She smiled, so, taking a risk, I pitched my voice so I was pretty sure that her parents would hear me. “You know what they say about a girl’s mom, right?”

Laurel did not know, but given the snort I heard from Vern, he surely did. Verlene paused her teasing and, perched on top of her husband’s lap, looked at me with an eyebrow raise that was somehow much more impressive than mine. It clearly said, ‘go on’.

I looked back to Laurel and smiled at the raised eyebrow from my girlfriend (like mother, like daughter). “They say that if you want to know what a girl is going to look like when she’s all grown up, look at her mom.” I smiled, but said nothing further.

“Well?” My impatient beauty poked me for an answer.

“Hmmm...” I tried to playfully delay. Wrong answer.

My usually sweet girlfriend was suddenly a relentless fiend, fingernails flitting about unerringly to my ticklish spots. I finally admitted, under duress, that Laurel had very good genes, and Verlene laughed as she thanked me.