Chapter 45: Life is an Interesting Game

August 28, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

"I spoke to my professor about the movie," CeCi said as she, Bianca, Nicole, Deanna, and I relaxed after a light dinner. "She's amenable, though she was clear it has to be rated 'R'. We had a long back and forth about what that meant, and the bottom line is no shots of a visible erection, no spread-leg shots, and no penetration shots. I'll shoot carefully, and I'll edit after filming to make sure nothing inadvertent creeps into any frames, in addition to the usual edits and cuts."

"That kind of messes up the idea of replicating the scene from the movie," Deanna observed. "You'll have to shoot the oral stuff from behind or with an angle that didn't actually show anything."

"I know," CeCi replied. "Which is why I'm considering simply writing something myself. Maybe a riff on Sleeping Beauty or something like that. I have time to think about it because my first independent study short isn't due until the first week in December."

"How about the seduction and deflowering of a virginal, Evangelical girl?" Bianca said with a smirk. "Call it 'I Can Make You See God!' or something like that!"

Deanna, CeCi, Nicole, and I all laughed, but I also shook my head.

"Are you trying to cause trouble?" I asked.

"Always!" Bianca declared. "I even know where you can find an actual virgin Evangelical girl to be the female lead!"

"That's even more unlikely than Noel Spurgeon calling me in the next five minutes, saying he's retiring and turning the firm over to me!"

"I told you how to make that happen!" Bianca teased. "Wait about eight years, deflower his daughter, marry her when she turns eighteen, and boom, YOU are Spurgeon Capital fifteen years from now!"

"Not interested," I replied.

"Even after she turns eighteen?" Bianca asked.

"That's ten years from now, and you know my position on getting married. CeCi, what are the limitations of your rubric with regard to a subject?"

"None, really. It can be almost anything, because it will be evaluated on technical aspects more than anything, though it does have to have some coherent idea guiding it."

We didn't come up with anything, though we had a nice, quiet evening together. When it was time for bed, CeCi joined me as was usual for a Tuesday night.

August 29, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

On Wednesday morning, CeCi stayed in bed while I showered and dressed, and once I'd eaten breakfast, I headed to the office. I completed my usual morning routine, and Jack came into my office to check in. I spent about fifteen minutes with him, then began working on the daily analyst report.

The market was still in the doldrums, and nothing much had changed in the world. Everyone was waiting to see what the Fed would do, and to see the outcome of the election, which was looking more and more like a Reagan landslide. The real question would be the House and Senate, as Reagan's agenda was not something Democrats would agree to; thus it wouldn't pass if they controlled either House.

As usual for a Wednesday, I ate lunch with Violet, Bianca, and Jack, then the four of us went to the gym. The afternoon was spent researching and analyzing stocks, and I had a brief meeting with Jack after the close of the market. At 5:00pm, Bianca and I headed up to the condo. Jessica left, and Bianca and Nicole went out to dinner, taking Sofía with them. That allowed Kayleigh and me to have the condo to ourselves.

Kayleigh arrived at 5:30pm, and after a quick kiss, we went to the kitchen to make dinner together.

"What did you end up telling your parents?" I asked.

"That I was going to spend the night with a guy, have sex multiple times, and suck him and swallow!"

I laughed, "There is about as much chance of you having said that as there is of me sprouting wings to fly to San Francisco tomorrow evening!"

"You're right, of course. I simply said I was spending the night with a friend. My mom asked me who, and I said, 'just a friend'. I'm pretty sure she suspects, but she didn't say anything. I mean, not you, specifically, but a guy."

"Have you said anything to your grandfather?"

"Only that we had some very good heart-to-heart conversations. I did say that five years was a long time, but that you and I would stay in touch and see where things go."

"That's a good answer, and will avoid any awkward questions or answers."

"My grandfather likes you, and I'm not going to say anything negative about you to him."

"I wasn't worried about what you might say! How do you feel about your decision?"

"Which one?" Kayleigh asked.

"Going to Stanford; everything else flowed from there."

"I'm sure you're right, but deciding to go to college doesn't seem as momentous as deciding to lose my virginity."

"May I speak bluntly?"

"Yes."

"The Abrahamic religions all have an unhealthy virginity fetish that allows men to control women's sexuality. In your church, who is the most revered woman and why?"

"Mary, because she remained a virgin throughout her life."

"Or so the story goes," I replied. "Because of that, you put far too much value on your virginity."

"What do you mean 'so the story goes'?"

"I have an alternate theory about that claim — the religious leaders accused Jesus of being like me — a bastard. To defend him, and, by extension, his mother, they circulated the story of the virgin birth. Maybe it happened the way it's reported; maybe she made up the story herself; maybe the guys who followed Jesus made it up; maybe the guys who wrote the stories made it up. It being an invented story is far more consistent with everything we know."

"You don't think Mary was a virgin?"

"I have no way of verifying that claim, and it's not reproducible, so to speak. That means we have one or possibly two independent reports from men who were not in a position to know, and the one guy who might have possibly been in a position to know, isn't one of those two who reported it.

"The most logical conclusion is that it was a response to the rumors circulating at the time. Think about how women who conceive out of wedlock are treated in the twentieth century, and imagine how much worse it would have been in a truly patriarchal society where sex outside of marriage could be punished by the death penalty. To me, that explains it, if it even needs explaining.

"So, ultimately, your most significant decision was about going to Stanford. Rejecting Catholic teaching about sex and birth control was simply a byproduct of you asserting your independence and control over your own life, rather than bending the knee to a priest or pope or whomever. Having sex was a formal declaration of independence, so to speak. But that came only after a long train of thought."

Kayleigh laughed, "Thomas Jefferson?"

"That was the inference I hoped you'd draw."

"I like your approach better than my grandfather's. He simply dismisses it as arrant nonsense."

I nodded, "He used that phrase with me, too. And, to be honest, I would use that with certain people. You never preached, which is basically where I draw the line about being polite. Well, after asking the person nicely to stop."

"That happened?"

"Yes. Anyway, how do you feel about your decision?"

"Very good. I was wearing my faith as a straitjacket, and that really limited what I could do. I'm not going to go crazy, but I feel free to pursue a different path through life."

"Have you gone to church?"

"Yes, because not going would create serious tension with my mom. I'll decide what to do once I'm at Stanford."

"What about confession?"

"No, because I'm not ready to discuss what I've done with anyone but you, and lying would kind of defeat the entire purpose."

"You can't go and just leave that out?"

"No. Our priest always asks if there is anything we're omitting or concealing. I'm still thinking about it."

"Do you think it's a sin?"

"An interesting question that I would never have had trouble answering in the past. Now I'm not so sure. I mean, yes, the Church says it's a sin, but that's not what you mean, is it?"

"Not in this case. What matters is what you think. I don't believe in sin, except insofar as a reference to hurting someone else. Neither you nor I were harmed by what we did and what we're going to do after dinner."

"Are you sure about that?" Kayleigh smirked.

I laughed, "OK, but you are perhaps the last person I could imagine being into giving or receiving pain."

"I am Catholic, and nuns did like to smack us on our hands with rulers..."

"When you put on a nun's habit, then you can smack me with a ruler!"

Kayleigh smirked, "Most of our nuns wear plain, modest dresses with a cross around their neck, rather than like Sally Field in The Flying Nun!"