Chapter 36: Friday In The City

Friday morning came, cold and damp. I guess that is to be expected for the middle of November. I slept a bit later than usual, worn out by the long and depressing week of schoolwork and the long but much better day I’d had on Thursday. Cheryl opened her eyes soon after I did, and as soon as she had kissed me good morning, got up to pee. She winced as she stood up.

“You ok?” I asked.

“Yep. But it feels like someone tried to shove a baseball bat up my ass last night. Oh wait, that’s almost exactly what happened.”

I felt bad.

“I’m really sorry, Cheryl.”

“Don’t be!” she said, flashing me a smile. “It was my idea, and I’m glad I did it. It’ll pass.”

She went into the bathroom, and I followed. After we’d both used the toilet, she got into the shower, and I ran some water into the sink and shaved. The clear glass shower stall was just as much fun as I thought it might be, and gave me a fantastic view of Cheryl soaping up and rinsing off. It’s actually a wonder that I didn’t slit my throat open with my razor. I showered after Cheryl was done, and after pulling on clothes, we headed downstairs.

The house was empty. Both her parents had already left for work. There was coffee in the pot, however, and Cheryl found some cereal for us. After we had eaten, I gathered up my laptop and notes, and we both pulled on jackets and headed downtown.

We had agreed that I was probably capable of finding the main library at the University of Toronto on my own. I was, after all, a reasonably intelligent adult. And I had been in Toronto once before. Mom brought us all down here for a long weekend when we were kids, and we stayed in a hotel and went to the Science Centre and the Zoo and the Royal Ontario Museum. I remembered that trip well, as it was one of the only real holidays we’d ever taken as a family. It was the summer before I went into grade seven, which I guess means that the girls were going into grades one and three. None of us had ever been near a city this size before, and I was awestruck by the huge buildings and the busyness of the streets. On our first afternoon in the city, we went for a walk after we checked into our hotel, and I was so busy looking around that I walked straight into a parking meter. The best part is that I was totally unfazed, and simply stepped back, apologized to it, and kept on walking up the sidewalk. My mom tells that story all the time.

Anyway, Cheryl and I had agreed that while I could likely manage on my own, it would be easier if she showed me how to get where I needed to be. So we walked down the residential street her parents lived on to Queen Street, and boarded the streetcar that would take us into the downtown proper. After a long and crowded ride - I couldn’t do this every day - we transferred to the subway and rode a few stops north to the main campus of the University of Toronto.

I’d never been to U of T before. It is the biggest university in Canada, and unlike most Canadian universities, it is organized into colleges, modelled on the Oxford and Cambridge systems. Each of the colleges both are and are not independent. I don’t quite know how it works. But I do know that it has an amazing university library system, and that was why I was there. As we walked from the subway station though the heart of the campus, past the building where Banting and Best discovered insulin, past the majestic Convocation Hall where all U of T students receive their degrees, past Knox College and University College, and past residence after residence, I made a note to come back sometime and look around. Toronto in November is not very scenic, but even so, the stone and brick buildings achieved a sort of medieval charm.

Cheryl took me to the steps of the massive Robarts Library building, gave me a hug and a smoldering kiss, and told me that she hoped I found what I was looking for. She made me promise to keep in touch, then headed off to find Megan. They had planned to spend the day shopping and generally hanging out together.

Once I had figured out how to find the magazines I was looking for, and had settled down to start looking through them, my day went pretty well. In fact, it went so well that I forgot to stop for lunch, which never happens. By a little after 4:00 I had found more than enough ads to base my paper on.

That was also when I realized that I had a number of texts from Cheryl that I had ignored as they arrived. Mostly they were just asking how I was doing, but the last one said that she and Megan were on their way over to the library and would meet me outside the building around 4:30. I was glad I had noticed it when I did! I sent off a reply saying that that timing suited me fine, and apologizing for not responding earlier. Then I packed up my stuff, hit the bathroom, and went outside to meet the girls.

When I saw them walking down St. George Street towards me, I nearly died. They were each carrying more shopping bags then their hands could comfortably hold. I hated to think how much money the two of them had spent in the few hours that I’d been at the library! Cheryl had gotten her hair trimmed, and Megan had gotten hers cut short and had had some pink highlights added. They both gave me a kiss, and I took some of the bags.

“Looks like you two shopped up a storm,” I said, as we started walking towards the subway.

“We had so much fun!” Cheryl replied. “And it’s not all for us. I picked out a few things for you, too.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Oh, nothing big. Just some boxers and some undies and a couple of new shirts that I thought you might like. And a pair of new jeans.” She must have seen the look that passed over my face. “If you don’t like anything, I’ll take it back tomorrow. Promise.”

“It’s not that,” I said. “I’m just thinking of how much I have to pay you.”

Megan giggled.

“It’s ok, John. I’m sure she’ll let you pay her with sex.”

The group of high school girls who were standing beside us on the subway platform heard that, and burst out laughing. I leaned over to Megan, and gave her a kiss.

“Can I pay you with sex too?”

“Anytime!”

“Nice haircut, by the way. I’ve never seen your hair that short! And that bit of pink on the side is super cute.”

“Thanks,” Megan replied. “I used to keep it short all the time. Then I grew it long. This is easier.”

We got on the train, and rode east, then took a bus south to the neighbourhood the girls grew up in. As we rode, they told me more about their day, and Cheryl asked how my work had gone.

“It went really well, actually. I think I have what I need. Now I just need to write the paper itself.”

“That’s fantastic!” Cheryl replied. “So what’s your thoughts about when you want to head back home?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t know. We’re having dinner with your folks tonight, right? Any plans for tomorrow?”

Megan and Cheryl looked at each other.

“What’s up?” I asked, “Is there something you want to do?”

“Well, I was texting with our friend Keysha,” Megan began. “She lives here, in the city. She’s in pre-med at U of T. And she was saying that another friend of ours, Danielle, is arriving home tonight. They were going to go clubbing or something tomorrow night, and wondered if Cheryl and I would join them.”

“If you want to go, that’s fine. Really. I can stay at your place and do some writing. It’s no big deal.”

“Yes, it is a big deal,” Cheryl insisted. “I’m not ditching you at my parents’ place for the night. I said I’d talk to you, and see what you thought. But I made it clear that if I go, you go. Dani and Keysha both said that was fine. The big question for me is whether it’s even possible for us to consider it. I know you have this paper to work on - and your schoolwork is more important than my social life.”

I thought for a second.

“I don’t think it’s a big deal to stay here for Saturday night,” I said. “I could do some writing tomorrow during the daytime, and then we could go out Saturday night. We could still leave here Sunday morning, right?”

Megan laughed. “If I know Cheryl, you won’t be leaving at the crack of dawn,” she observed. “Not if we’re out clubbing.”

“I can behave,” Cheryl asserted, giving Megan a nasty glare. “But are you sure it’s ok, John? You don’t mind sticking around an extra night to hang out with a bunch of girls?”

“Well, hanging with a bunch of girls doesn’t bother me, to be honest. But are you sure they’re ok about hanging with me? Cause, really - if you want to go out without me, that’s fine.”

Cheryl shook her head. “That’s not happening. But if you’re sure the timing is ok, and you don’t need to get back tomorrow night, then let’s tell Keysha we’re on.” She pulled out her phone, and typed for a minute, then looked up. “It’s set. We’re meeting at Keysha’s apartment around 7:00 or so, and then we’ll decide what we’re doing from there.”

By the time this was all organized, we were nearing the Beach neighbourhood. Megan got off a stop before we did, after giving us both hugs and kisses, and thanking Cheryl for an awesome day. Then Cheryl led me off the bus, and we walked back to her parents’ place.

Neither of her parents was home yet, which Cheryl said wasn’t unusual. We took the shopping bags upstairs, and she showed me the shirts she had gotten me. They were lovely, in fact, and exactly my size. And while one of them was purple, and I’ve never worn purple before, it looked good on me. The new boxers she’d gotten me were satin, and looked like they would feel nice. But the jeans she’d picked out ... well, they felt a tad tight. I suggested that I needed a size larger. She grinned.

“No, you don’t,” she said.

“But they feel too tight across my butt.”

“That’s how they’re supposed to feel. They make your ass look really hot.”

“Really?” I asked, incredulously.

“Totally,” she said, running her tongue over her lips.

I shrugged. I couldn’t see it. But I’d take her word for it.

Satisfied with her purchases, she gathered what I had tried on and a few items from the other bags she had and headed down to start a load of laundry. When she came back upstairs, she was talking to her mother on the phone. She hung up, and told me they’d be home in about half an hour, and we should get cleaned up. We both wanted to shower, even though we’d done that this morning, so we stripped off and jumped under the warm water together. I tried to resist exploring, but failed. Cheryl’s breasts were just too tempting. However, I managed to stop myself before things got too far out of hand. Or too far into hand. Whatever.

I pulled on the dress pants and shirt that I had brought with me, grateful that I had packed them. Cheryl chose a classic little black dress out of her closet. I’m amazed at the volume of clothing that this girl owns. She seems to have a dress for every occasion, and it’s usually one that I haven’t seen before.

By the time we finished dressing and got downstairs, Dave was home, followed a few minutes later by Molly. They both were dressed for work, and didn’t need to change, so we got into Molly’s car, which was by far the nicest vehicle I’ve ever been in. I’ve never seen the appeal of leather seats. But I have to say that it was a really comfortable ride!

Now, before I describe dinner, I need to tell you something about myself that you may not know. I grew up in a family that didn’t have tons of money, in a very small town in southern Ontario. I’m sure you’ve figured that out already. But what this meant is that we didn’t go out to eat very often. For one thing, it was too expensive for my mother to take the three of us out. And for another, there were very few options for eating out in my hometown. There was a “family” restaurant (all day breakfast, burgers, sandwiches, and dinners with meat and potatoes drowning in watery gravy), two bars, two coffee-and-doughnut shops, a pizza place (where my sisters and I went on our date nights), and a Chinese restaurant (though if anyone ever came to visit from China, I am sure that they would recognize neither the foods on the menu nor the Caucasian family that owned and operated it). When I left home to go to school, I went out a bit more. There were lots of places to choose from, but the money shortage was the same.

And while I’ve been out to eat much more regularly since I started dating Cheryl, I have never been to a restaurant like Mario’s, which I found out was Cheryl’s favourite place to go on special occasions. It was a lovely little place not far from the Lake, and we were given a quiet table off in the corner. The maitre d’ held out Molly’s and Cheryl’s chairs as he seated us. The tablecloth was freshly ironed and the glasses were crystal and there were more forks and spoons at my place than I knew what to do with. I felt totally out of my comfort zone.

And then I opened my menu.

Cheryl must have seen the colour draining from my face, and figured out what was happening.

“It’s ok,” she whispered. “Dad’s paying. Don’t worry about it. Just order what you want.”

She had tried to be unobtrusive, but her father heard her.

“She’s right. I remember what it was like to be your age. Hungry all the time. So please, order what you want. I’m thinking I’ll have the filet mignon, myself.”

That reassured me a bit, though I still felt ordering buying a meal that cost more than my groceries for a week. But it was supposed to be a special night, and I didn’t want to ruin it. So I followed Dave’s lead, and decided to go with the filet. All of us had soup to start. Mine was a lovely fish chowder, with big chunks of haddock and potatoes, in a milky broth. It was divine. And even the bread was good. The beef, when it came, melted in my mouth, and the vegetables were cooked to perfection. I’ve never had a meal that tasted so good. Not even my mother’s cooking compared. Though I was sure they couldn’t beat her lemon pie.

Molly had ordered a bottle of white wine when we first sat down, and that soon was followed by a second bottle. The conversation was light for the first few minutes. Cheryl talked about what she and Megan had spent the day doing, and there were polite questions asked about my progress at the library. Then, as the entrees were served, the conversation got deeper.

“So,” Dave said, “last night I started to ask some questions so we could get to know you better, John. But we got sidetracked by the story of how you met Cheryl - and then met her again. Not that I didn’t want to know that, but I’d like to know more about you, as well. I know you’re studying history, and want to be a teacher. Where did you grow up?”

“I was born in a small town in southern Ontario, and lived there all my life,” I replied. “It’s just outside Sarnia. No one’s ever heard of it.”

Dave chuckled.

“Fair enough. And what about your family? Do you have siblings?”

I nodded.

“Two younger sisters, both still in high school.”

“And what do your parents do?”

Cheryl glared at her father. I patted her knee under the tablecloth.

“My mom is the administrator at our local elementary school.”