Chapter 6: The Aftermath: Next Moves

June 1977

Sunday started in the usual way, but took an odd turn. I was scheduled to be an altar boy, as was Larry. We met in the sacristy to put on our robes.

“Sorry about yesterday. I hope the day wasn’t ruined.”

I saw a slight smirk develop.

“You know very well it wasn’t!”

He laughed, “Yeah, I got a call from Birgit last night and she thanked me profusely. Did it go really well?”

“Yeah, it did. And that’s all I’ll say about it.”

He nodded. The communication was clear and I didn’t need to spell it out for him.

Fr. Niemeyer was saying Mass this morning, which meant slight variations of our tasks. For example, he didn’t want handbells rung at the Elevation of the Host as was traditional. And this was a guitar Mass. I wasn’t thrilled with those and didn’t usually serve them, but our team had been assigned this Mass for the entire month.

During the readings and the homily, Larry and I sat in chairs on either side of the Priest’s chair on the left side of the altar (facing out). About three rows back, I saw Jennie McGrath. I was surprised because the times I saw her it was always the previous Mass to this one. I wondered if that’s why I didn’t see her every week. And I saw that same guy next to her for the third week in a row.

If it hadn’t been for the previous day’s events with Birgit, I probably would’ve had a hard time not glaring at the guy. But now, well, if it made her happy, I was happy. To be sure, I would have sex with her again if I had the opportunity, but that didn’t look like a possibility, and really, that didn’t bother me too much. I knew there were other girls. But Jennie had been my first, and that was special. Then again, after Saturday, it wasn’t the most special.

Another thought crossed my mind. Confession. We usually went once a month and this Friday afternoon would be the time. What was I going to say? Although I attended church regularly, was an altar boy, went to CCD (when I wasn’t in parochial school), and otherwise went through the motions, I had started questioning things the Church taught - things that didn’t line up with my (limited) experience in life and which certainly didn’t line up with my actions over the past month since my last confession. I didn’t think I had done anything wrong. In point of fact, there was no way that anyone could convince me that what Birgit and I had done was ‘sinful’ in any way, shape, or form.

The Catholic Church clearly thought otherwise. And I had less than a week to figure out what to do about that.

I was deep in thought and didn’t hear a word of Fr. Niemeyer’s homily. I almost missed the cue to get up and begin the Eucharistic part of the service. I quickly pushed down all those thoughts and focused on where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. The ritual was ingrained, so just a bit of focus got me where I needed to be.

At Communion, Jennie was on my side of the aisle. I held the paten under her chin and she gave me a hard look in the eyes right after the priest placed the host in her mouth. Uh oh. Did I have ‘the look’ that had given away my relationship with Jennie to Birgit?

If Jennie noticed it, who else might have. Double uh-oh. Mom? Maybe. Dad? Probably not. Jeff? Hardly. I think he was clueless about most things. Stephanie? Nah, she was awfully young. My priest? Doubtful, but you never knew. I was like a robot moving the paten back and forth and wasn’t paying close attention. Fortunately, I didn’t hit anyone with it nor did a host drop that I was supposed to catch.

Mass ended and Larry and I took off our robes and went downstairs. He grabbed a doughnut and I got my usual OJ. I saw Melanie and Mr. Spencer across the room. Birgit was Lutheran, and only nominally so, and didn’t come to church. I wished she had, but I’d never seen her here and so I’d never have expected it.

Melanie saw me and walked over.

She stepped close to me and said very quietly “I’m really happy for you and Birgit. I’m glad it worked out. She’s so lucky to have you.” And then she quickly walked away.

Larry was the only other one who heard. He grabbed my arm, and whispered, “You did! I knew it!”

Sigh. Busted. But I could count on Larry not to say anything.

He went on, “Mom knows what we planned, but she thought it was so romantic that she’s not going to say anything to your mom. I don’t think my mom knows for sure what happened, but I’m sure she suspects. She likes you and would never tell.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you more than I can repay.”

“Someday, I’ll take you up on that. Hey, next weekend I’m going to my Grandpa’s house. Want to come along? My cousins will be there. They’re our age. You’ll like ‘em.”

“Sure, I’ll check with my mom.”

When it was time to leave, I found Mom at the car and got in. Jeff was already in the front seat so I climbed in back with Stephanie. It was a fairly quiet ride home until mom said, “Mrs. McGrath asked if you could stop by one evening this week. She needs a couple of things done. I can take you after your tournament. She’ll feed you dinner and bring you home.”

What did she want? It looked like she had a new boyfriend. Odd. I must have looked like I had seen a ghost. Stephanie looked at me and almost said something, but I covered my mouth and she was smart enough to not say anything.

“Uh, OK, Mom. Whatever. Hey, Larry asked me if I could go with him to his grandfather’s house next Saturday.”

“I’ll talk to Mrs. Higgins and make sure it’s OK with her, and if she says yes, then you may go. If your chores are done. And if Mrs. McGrath is taken care of.”

“Yes, Mom,” I said in a resigned voice.

When we got home, I had lunch and grabbed a Coke and chips to munch on. I went to my room and pulled out my chess books. Queen’s Gambit Declined was today’s study. I was going to be prepared for the black pieces, knowing that if I could draw, or even win, with black, I’d be able to make it into the top five. That’s why I focused on responses. My attacking game as white was slightly above average, but I had always been weak on defense. I was determined to fix that. I saw an advantage since so many people in the club studied openings for white and didn’t study defenses quite as much.

I had been there for about an hour, the radio playing Q102 softly in the background when there was a knock at the door. “It’s open” (yeah, of course, since Mom and Dad forbid locking the doors except if we were changing clothes). Stephanie came in. She had turned ten in March and I could tell she was going to be a knockout. Figures. I’d have guys beating down the door for dates with my sister and other guys trying to get me to set them up with her. Well, she had a few years before she had to worry too much, but if she looked anything like Birgit, look out world. My sister was outgoing, aggressive, and liked to be in control. ‘Princess’ probably wasn’t quite right; ‘Queen’ was probably more accurate.

She shut the door behind her. That wasn’t normal. Uh oh.

“Steve, can I ask you a question?”

I tentatively nodded and said “Sure.”

“Why were there long blonde hairs on your towel? I didn’t use it.”

She was blonde, but not the same shade as the owner of those wayward hairs.

“Uh, no idea.”

“Birgit was here, wasn’t she?”

Busted. Now what? I chose to remain silent. I could only hope that my silence would give me time to figure this out. If Stephanie told Mom about this, I’d be grounded forever. I didn’t have any possible explanation. I just looked at her. She just looked at me.

“What are you going to do?” I finally asked.

“Nothing. I think it’s cute. I guess you guys cuddled and stuff, but how did the hair get on the towel.”

Hmm, she wasn’t putting two and two together. She was ten and I figured she had the basic information about how things worked since Mom had given me the books when I was eight. I didn’t say anything again and she just looked at me. All of a sudden a sign of realization hit her and her eyes got wide.

“You did it with her! Oh my God!”

Check.

“Stephanie, you can’t say anything! Please! Mom will kill me. Then she’ll ground me forever.”

“If she kills you, it won’t matter if you are grounded!” she said, and stuck her tongue out at me.

“You know what I mean! And don’t stick your tongue out unless you intend to use it!”

“Eww. Gross. You always say that!”

“Yes, I do.”

“Can you tell me about it? I read those dumb books Mom gave us but they don’t say anything about it other than which parts fit together.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Do you want me to tell?”

And mate.

“Fine. It’s wonderful. When you get older, you’ll find out just how wonderful. It makes you feel amazing. Did you read in the book about masturbation? Well, when you feel like doing that, you can get a sample of what it’s like. But it doesn’t compare. Now, please, let me study my chess, and please don’t tell Mom!”

“I won’t, but you have to answer any questions that I have.”

“Fine. I can do that.”

She stuck her tongue out at me again. I just let it slide, and she left the room. I put my head in my hands. The day just kept getting stranger. And I still had no idea what Jennie McGrath wanted.

Monday night arrived and fortunately, the emotional events of the weekend had left me so mentally exhausted that I fell asleep. I got a great night’s sleep and after I showered and ate breakfast, and was ready to walk out the door for the tournament when the phone rang.

Stephanie got it and yelled, “It’s for you, Steve!”

I wondered if Larry had some issue and needed a ride. But it wasn’t him.

I heard Birgit’s lovely voice through the receiver.

“Hi, Steve! We’re leaving for Detroit so I can fly home, but I had to call you and say thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

“I love you, Steve Adams!”

“I love you, Birgit Andersson!”

“I’ll write you tomorrow,” she promised.

“You better!” I confirmed.

We said our goodbyes and I hung up. That call was just the thing I needed - rather than being sad, it had me walking on air. I almost floated to the car. Fortunately, only Stephanie had been in earshot, and she just stuck her tongue out at me again. I let her slide again. Little sisters could be annoying!

I arrived at school and looked at the pairing board. I was playing against Jennifer Block in the first round. I knew her. Smart. Above-average looking. A bit chunky, but that was probably baby fat. Not too developed yet. I suspected that would change in the next year. Hair that bordered on red - strawberry blonde, I thought it was called. Green eyes. But it wasn’t her looks that were at issue here.

I was a teenage boy with two women ‘under his belt’ so to speak, and I was analyzing every female that I met along those lines. Pushing those thoughts aside, I cleared my mind - what mattered was that she was a worthy opponent for the first round. I had the black pieces. I said a silent prayer to the chess gods that she would play Queen’s Gambit. Larry walked up. He had white pieces against Dave Schumacher. I knew he’d win that one. Dave was about the same as me, and Larry could beat me most of the time.

Jennifer and I sat down, the referee set the clocks, I put out my score sheet and pencil and waited. The tournament director looked at the clock and said “Begin”. I started Jennifer’s clock and the game started. She paused for a moment, then I saw her reach for the Queen’s pawn. She played 1 d4 and switched the clock. OK. Now we were talking! Yes! I responded with d5 and the game was on. She played my hoped (and prayed) for c4. I was on the clock and decided I could afford to think for a few minutes. If she studied defenses, what would they have been?

I decided I’d accept the gambit and play along the Alekhine line. I took the offered pawn. After 3 Nf3, I played a6. She stopped and took a long time to consider. She played 4 g3 and I knew I had her. The chess book gave black a better than 60% chance to WIN with that move and around 20% to draw. If I won this, I’d be way ahead. I played carefully, using nearly all my time, but easily won when I forked her queen and rook. Down a major piece, she couldn’t hold off the assault. I knew that if I won both my games with white, I’d be in the top five for sure. I might only need to win one and draw the other. Two-and-a-half points would be close; three would be sure.

When we finished, I looked around. There were still a few games being played. Larry wasn’t one of them. I found him and looked at his score sheet. He’d won handily. He’d pressed his attack so well that by move 20 Dave had clearly been in serious trouble and by move 25 had resigned. I hoped I lasted longer than that if I played against my best friend. I knew him pretty well, and had played a lot. We might not play, as pairings depended on the results of each round. We went to the cafeteria to eat lunch. They had brought in sub sandwiches from the local deli. We each grabbed one and sat down to eat.