Chapter 14: Oh, I Suppose I'll Behave

June 23, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

"I'm not upset, just surprised," I replied.

"Please don't be upset with Mom," Jennifer pleaded. "She told me there were more paintings upstairs in the loft and the halls, and the door to the room with the paintings was open, so I went in."

"That room is intended as a gallery, and I'm not upset with your mom. The art on the walls is meant to be viewed, and suggesting you see it wasn't out of line. Had you gone through a closed door, that would have been different."

"I'll say!" Jennifer smirked. "If I could go through a closed door, I'd be a ghost!"

"And, of course, you know what I meant!" I retorted.

"Of course, but I also heard what you said! And I was just doing what I did with the word 'sleeping' — being literal when what was said wasn't meant literally. Which YOU seem to like to do!"

"Touché!" I chuckled.

"Are there going to be more paintings in that series?"

"At three months, six months, a year, and two years. Deanna wants to keep going, but I'm not sure that's wise beyond toddler age."

"It's art, right?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean someone at DCFS or the State's Attorney's office will see it that way. Not to mention that, at some point, Sofía has to have autonomy to decide. And that's a tricky question."

"At this point, it's not really different from all the dumb bathtub pictures every parent takes, and nobody has a fit about."

"So far. But parents stop taking those pictures around age two. What's your take on nudity?"

"I think the best way to answer is to say that both my guidance counselor and the nurse I talked to when I went to visit Loyola on a career day said that if you couldn't handle naked bodies in non-sexual situations, then you shouldn't be a nurse or doctor. They mentioned a number of procedures that are done in the Emergency Department, like catheters that are used to drain urine."

"I'm aware of that one," I said. "Keiko had a catheter. Let's just say the concept alone is discomforting!"

"No kidding! They talked about other stuff that is pretty gross and were blunt about it. At first, I was like, no way I can do that, but then, as I thought more about it, I decided I could and went ahead with my plan to be a nurse."

"That is pretty much the only option. If I understand correctly from a nursing student I spoke with, you have to do all those things as part of your training, no matter where you choose to work, be it a part of the hospital or a doctor's office."

"That's right. Medical students do the same thing, but not until they finish two additional years of classroom work after an undergrad degree."

"Did you ever think about being a doctor?"

"Briefly, but that's basically eight years of school and then at least a year as an Intern before you have a license, and even then, you have to finish a Residency. That's nine years, minimum, and more like ten or eleven. As a nurse, I'll be fully licensed and working full-time in three years. Once I looked into it, being a doctor didn't really interest me. Did you ever think about being anything other than what you are?"

"I didn't even think about being what I am! When I called my uncle to ask for help finding an entry-level job, I didn't put any restrictions on that request except that it had to have a chance for advancement. Once I started in the mailroom at Spurgeon, I got the idea of getting my securities licenses and taking it from there, but I figured I'd go the traditional route. Instead, I kind of made my own way by sheer determination. That's how I became the youngest licensed securities professional at Spurgeon and one of the youngest ever in the US to have three licenses, including the one that allows me to manage people."

"Nice horn you're blowing!" Jennifer teased.

"If I don't promote myself, nobody else is going to. I mean, do you think I should stand in front of a group of potential clients and give them an 'Aw, shucks' attitude like Gomer Pyle?"

"No, of course not! I'm positive you knew I was teasing."

"I was, but I like to give straight answers to teasing because it's fun!"

"Do you play any instruments?"

"No. I never had the time to learn, and at this point, I certainly don't. Do you?"

"Piano. I played in the concert band at school starting in eighth grade. It's fun, but it's not something I'd try to do professionally. Did you play sports at all?"

"No. I worked from the time I turned fourteen and had two jobs from the time I turned sixteen. Money was very, very tight, and I had to contribute to the household budget so we could make ends meet."

"That's changed, obviously."

"Obviously. From that, I learned the value of hard work, the value of a dollar, and the value of saving. I learned responsibility and self-sufficiency from a very young age. I want to instill all of that in my daughter, but it'll be difficult because she's basically been born with a silver spoon in her mouth."

We reached Little Italy, and I found a parking spot about two blocks from the restaurant. As she had at Miller Meadow, Jennifer slipped her hand in mine as we started walking along the sidewalk to Pompeii. When we reached the restaurant, we had to wait about ten minutes for a table, which wasn't bad given it was late Saturday afternoon. We were seated at a table for two near the front windows, and a waiter appeared immediately.

"If you're going to order beer or wine, I'll need to see ID from both of you," he said after greeting us.

I wasn't surprised that they would card us, given the proximity of the university.

"I'm twenty-one, but she isn't, so we won't order alcohol. Jennifer, what do you want to drink?"

"Coke, please."

"Make that two Cokes," I replied.

The waiter left to get our drinks.

"What if I have a fake ID?" she asked.

"Do you?"

"Well, no, but what if?"

"Well, then the thing to do was mention that before we were seated! That said, with UICC just down the street, I bet they're good at spotting fakes."

"You look like you're about twenty-five; do you get carded?"

"Almost never, but you look like you could be fifteen, so you're going to get carded a long time after you turn twenty-one. Your mom looks younger than she is, so I expect that'll be true for you."

"You think I look that young?"

"I said 'could be'. It's honestly tough to tell from fifteen to twenty because it depends so much on makeup and clothing. You don't wear anything other than lip gloss, so you look younger. A bit of eye shadow and lipstick, and you'd probably look eighteen or so. But I'm not a great judge in that regard. Your mom told me you had just graduated from High School, so I knew you were eighteen. Well, technically, you could have graduated early, but that's pretty rare."

"So, if you saw me without knowing how old I was, would you have been interested?"

"My personal rule is that girls have to have graduated from High School. Before I turned twenty-one, I would have said they had to be at least Seniors because that would have been, at most, a three-year difference. Now that I'm almost twenty-two, graduating is a minimum, mainly because of maturity level."

"I know plenty of kids who have graduated who are immature, and most of my friends were mature at fifteen or sixteen."

"Well, once I turned eighteen, dating someone under seventeen was frowned on by the government here. It was sixteen back home, which I think is more reasonable, but it's not up to me. And while what you said is true, setting the limit makes sense, and I can weed out the immature girls. Let me ask this — what would your dad have said if you wanted to date a twenty-one-year-old when you were fifteen?"

"He'd have locked me in my room and obtained a restraining order!" Jennifer declared.

The waiter brought our drinks, and we asked for a few minutes to review the menus. We both decided on Fettuccini Alfredo with chicken, with minestrone soup to start. The waiter took the order and left the table.

"As I was saying," Jennifer continued, "Dad wasn't happy with ANY guy I dated."

"Including me?"

"Mom talked you up, and so he's neutral."

"Overprotective?"

"Actually, no. He let me mostly do what I wanted, and I had a lot of freedom; he just disapproved of the guys. My curfew was reasonable — 10:00pm when I was a Freshman or a Sophomore, 11:00pm as a Junior, and midnight as a Senior. I did get until 1:00am for Prom, but Dad was up waiting to make sure I was in the house by 1:00am. Was your girlfriend's dad like that?"

"Not really. I didn't have a car or much money to spend, so we didn't go on dates; we just hung out together, mostly in a barn on some farmland behind our houses. The farmer was cool, and from about age ten — she was nine — we hung out in the hayloft most evenings."

"The scene of the crime, so to speak?"

"Yes. My mom was OK when she found out about it; Bev's dad not so much."

"What happened with her, if it's OK to ask?"

"I made a grave error in not inviting her to come to Chicago with me, though that would have had to wait a year for her to graduate. She started dating, got pregnant, had a baby, and then her life spiraled completely out of control when the father was revealed. Things went steadily downhill, she lost custody of her daughter, and she took her own life about three weeks ago."

"Oh my! Is the baby with the father?"

"The father is going to be in prison for about thirty years. He was a High School teacher who had a preference for girls who were fourteen or fifteen. My friend was seventeen when they were together, but at least six other girls weren't."