Chapter 1: Past, Present and Future

August 8, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

-Frank Zappa

As I merged my year-old Trans Am into traffic on I-275 and left Milford behind, I reflected on everything that had happened since we’d moved to Milford from Anderson Township. I’d met Jennie McGrath — now Jennie Sanders — and because of her, Birgit had taken a chance on me. From there, an amazing sequence of events had led to me driving a black 1980 Trans Am towards Chicago with my girlfriend and my best friend sitting in the back seat and my girlfriend’s mom in the front passenger seat. The three of them were talking, which allowed me to focus on my own thoughts.

My girlfriend, Kara, had been the one who had helped me to finally get my act together. If it hadn’t been for her, I probably — no, not probably — would have been making this trip alone, with only the prospect of loneliness and depression ahead, leaving behind shattered relationships. Instead, I was embarking on a new phase of my life with good friends, a wonderful girlfriend, and a future full of possibilities. I’d come a long way since sixth grade, but I knew I had a long way to go.

Of course, the best friend, Bethany, had a lot to do with the changes as well. She depended on me, perhaps too much at times, but there was a reason for that. She had been raped at age thirteen and I had helped her recover from that by first being her friend and later being her lover. We were still lovers, something my girlfriend tolerated but didn’t like.

And the reason for that was a very conflicted young woman named Jennifer, who at one point I had been convinced would be my life partner, but no more. She was in Seattle, though she’d be heading to Stanford very soon. Until two months ago, I had expected this drive to lead me to an apartment that she and I would share as we attended college together. Unfortunately, our relationship had been destroyed partly by lies and deception, but mostly by the fact that we had been both very immature and had been carrying tremendous emotional baggage for two fifteen-year-olds when our journey together had started.

She’d helped me recover from the death of the love of my life, and, in the end, lost me because of that same girl — Birgit Andersson. Although Birgit was gone, her little sister had captivated me when I had been in Sweden as a High School Junior and I had failed Jennifer by sending mixed signals about what I wanted. In the end, those mixed signals had led directly to a falling out. Jennifer and I had reconciled in the last few weeks, but only as friends.

Instead of living with Jennifer, I’d be sharing a two-bedroom apartment with my friend Elyse. Without Jennie McGrath, the woman who had shown me the secrets of the world, I’d have never met Elyse. I’d given Jennie away at her wedding to Kent Sanders when I was sixteen, causing no end of trouble with my mom. I’d met Elyse at the wedding; we had spent the night together, but then later became just very good friends. She had offered to share a place with me if anything happened between Jennifer and me, which was unfortunately the case.

The thought of my mom interrupted my otherwise happy reminiscing. My mom had been a thorn in my side for years, constantly trying to control every aspect of my life and constantly interfering in my relationships. If there was a single reason for me leaving Milford, she was it. I doubted there was any way to reconcile with her, given her attitude, and to be honest, I didn’t want to. Her hypocritical puritanism grated on me and disgusted my friends. She had, in the end, taken to referring to any girl I ever spoken to as a slut, not merely to their faces, but even to their parents. I saw little chance of her ever changing.

Somewhere, a short distance ahead of my car and my three female passengers was my dad, driving a station wagon and U-Haul trailer filled with my worldly possessions, all of which paled compared to one of the passengers in that car — my little sister Stephanie. Stephanie, the girl I’d called Squirt from the time she was seven until yesterday, when she had decided that nickname, and all that it represented, ought to be retired, was very, very special. With her in the car was her boyfriend, Ed, who had to be the happiest Freshman in Milford. Ed was Bethany’s little brother and a great kid. Stephanie had chosen well.

Dad had started out backing my mom, though as time went on, he had given me more freedom and support, culminating with allowing me to go to Sweden as an exchange student. That year was amazing and showed me that I could manage my own life reasonably well, even if I still had some major failings. When I returned, Dad had been almost completely on my side, and had helped me at every opportunity. I didn’t envy him dealing with my mom, but he somehow managed to keep his relationship with her intact while preventing her from completely wrecking my life.

My sister, well, there was no girl in the world as special to me as Stephanie. Nobody could, or would, ever take her place in my heart. We’d been through so much together, including things society said no brother and sister should ever do. She’d been there for me, through thick and thin, supporting me and loving me. Our relationship had changed in March in a dramatic way and then changed again, in an equally dramatic way, just a few days before I left home for good. Nothing could ever truly separate me from her in this life, though my mom tried her damnedest to drive a wedge between us.

As we passed the Tri-County Mall, I remembered eating at TGI Fridays and having ice cream at Farrell’s. A bit further on, we passed the Showcase Cinemas, where I’d seen quite a few movies over the years. Twenty minutes later, we passed the exit I’d normally take when I visited Don Joseph at his home in Colerain Township.

Don Joseph Grossi was my friend Larry’s grandfather. His granddaughter, Joyce, was a long-time friend and lover. She had always been one of my harshest critics, but also one of my closest friends. She constantly reminded me that, in the end, she’d be the last girl standing and would walk down the aisle to me.

She had one important thing going for her, and that was that I worked for her grandfather, both on above — and below — board things. It had all started innocently with a job at Andreas’ Deli in Milford, which Don Joseph owned. It became far from innocent when, after Bethany had told me the story of her rape and the resulting pregnancy and abortion, I wanted her rapist dead. I’d asked my friend Pete, who’d been at the party where that happened, who had been with Bethany. He’d told me, and when I confirmed it, I asked the Don for a favor. He refused what I really wanted, but arranged for Josh Benton, the rapist, to be beaten severely. From that point on, I had owed the Don.

Most of what I did consisted of writing computer programs and running errands. The computer programs were for both the legal and illegal sides of the Don’s businesses. The legal side had let me develop, with my friend Beth and our new associate Krista, computer software used by a dozen veterinary offices in the Cincinnati area. The income from that, plus the computer dating service we ran for area High Schools, and the extra income from the work on the ‘dark side’, had let me buy the car and cover my college tuition. In Chicago, I’d be doing things for the Don’s associates.

Ed, my little sister’s boyfriend, had taken my old job at the deli, mainly to get access to an apartment that the Don had let me use for three years. That apartment had allowed me to spend time with my many, many female friends without having to use the back seat of a car or risk getting caught by either set of parents. Of course, Ed was only going to use it with my little sister, unlike me, who’d had most of my forty-plus girls in there at one time or another.

One of those girls, Kathy, was going to be my more-or-less steady girlfriend in Chicago. We’d had serious crushes on each other since seventh grade, but neither of us acted on them when it would have mattered. By the time we had gotten together, after a couple of false starts, it was clear that we’d never be more than close friends, though we very much enjoyed an occasional physical relationship. Kara didn’t particularly like the setup, but given my past and given the progress I’d made, she was, more or less, giving me permission to date Kathy until next year, when Kara would come to Chicago to go to school, and, if things went as planned, move in with me.

Things with Kara weren’t simple, which was why her mom was in the car with us. Kara had admitted to her dad that we had been intimate and he put her under what could only be called ‘house arrest’. That’s what happens when an evangelical Christian girl gives her virginity to a guy before marriage and her dad finds out. Only through the intercession of her mom was I even allowed to see Kara, which meant Kara and I owed her mom quite a bit.

As I crossed the border into Indiana on I-74, I caught up with my dad. I could easily have driven faster, but I had no desire to get a speeding ticket. I fell in behind him and matched his pace.

“Steve?” Kara said, sounding exasperated.

“Sorry, Honey, what?”

“I called your name three times! You were really lost in thought!”

“Sorry,” I replied, “I was just thinking about everything that has happened in the past six years or so. In fact, I was just thinking about you.”

“Really?” she said brightly.

“Yes, really. Do you need anything?”

“Do you know how long until the Rest Area?”

“About forty minutes at this point, I guess. Why?”

“Well, I’ll need it!” she giggled.

“You OK until then? I can always get off at one of these exits.”

“No, I’ll be fine until the Rest Area.”

The girls resumed talking, and I put a tape into the tape deck. The first notes of ABBA’s Super Trouper wafted from the speakers and I reminisced about the amazing young woman who had been taken from me at such a young age.

Birgit Andersson had been a Swedish exchange student in Milford and had been my first true love. We’d been friends for most of the year and then, just before she went home, she’d taken the chance to show me that she loved me. I knew I’d found my soulmate, but Fate disagreed and ripped her from me a year later, when she drowned in a boating accident. It had taken a long time to come to terms with her death, including several tearful visits to her grave in Stockholm.

The next song was The Winner Takes it All and the lyrics drove home exactly what I felt about Fate.

The gods had indeed thrown the dice, and I had lost Birgit. She’d always be with me in spirit and I always felt her love, but I had to move on. Who I’d move on with was, in one sense, a bit up in the air — it could be Birgit’s little sister Karin, who’d recently visited me. It could be Joyce or Bethany. Most likely, I thought, it would be Kara, though I knew how fickle Fate was, and it could well be someone I hadn’t met yet, or someone who I didn’t think it would be, such as Jennifer. Only time would tell.

The next song on the album was On and On and On and once again, one of the verses hit home strongly, but this time, making me think of Kara.

That was, indeed, the question that I needed to answer by the end of June of next year. I had ten months to figure it out, because the course was set that sometime around the first of July of next year, I’d ask Kara to marry me. She wanted it. I wanted it. I just wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing. I had once told my sister that we could not let fear control us, and the fear and trepidation I had would not be enough to stop me from asking Kara to be my wife. Of course, that fickle bitch, Fate, certainly could intervene, and I expected her to do so with a vengeance, and I’d fight her like hell if that happened.

We came to the Rest Area, and I followed my dad into the exit lane and we parked. Everyone got out to use the facilities. When I finished, I walked back to my car and leaned against the hood, waiting for the girls to return. Kara came out first and walked right up to me. I took her in my arms and held her. I knew she was going to miss me and I would certainly miss her.

I saw her mom come out and walk over to talk to my dad. A minute later, she came over to Kara and me.

“Steve, I talked to your dad. I’m going to ride in the station wagon the rest of the way. I want you kids to be able to talk.”

“Really?!” Kara exclaimed gleefully, still resting in my arms. “Thanks, Mom!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Blanchard,” I added, just as happy as my girlfriend. “I really appreciate it.”

She walked over to the station wagon and got into the passenger seat. My sister looked over at me and smiled, and blew me a kiss. I winked and pretended to catch it in my hand and press it to my cheek. She and Ed got back into the station wagon and when Bethany came out, we got into my car.

“Wait!” she said. “Do you two want me to ride with your dad so you can be alone?”

“No,” Kara replied. “Stay with us, Bethany!”

Once again, when we got back onto the highway, I followed my dad and kept pace with him. Our next stop would be in Lafayette, where we’d fill the cars with gas. We were making good time and there was no traffic to speak of. I now had my girlfriend sitting to my right, rather than her mother, which made me happy.

“That was sweet of your mom, Kara,” Bethany said after a few minutes.

“It was! But we can never tell my dad. He’d have kittens!”

“How is he going to react next July?” Bethany asked.

“He’ll be happy about the engagement. He’ll have a heart attack when I tell him I’m moving in with Steve.”

“I bet!”

“I’m curious, Bethany,” Kara said. “Why aren’t you upset about Steve getting engaged? I thought you would be?”

“I love Steve, more than I can ever express. And that means I want him to be happy and to be with the person who he thinks is best for him. I’ve seen what you’ve managed to do with him, Kara. It’s nothing short of a miracle. I think Joyce and I are in exactly the same place we were all along — something had to happen with Jennifer if either of us were to have a chance, now, and I am NOT hoping for this, something would have to happen with you.”

“You’re conceding?” Kara said with a smile that said she wasn’t being mean.

“For the moment, Miss ‘Holy Roller’!” Bethany giggled. “But I promise I will not do anything to hurt you, nor will I interfere. And if he does put that ring on your finger, that changes things between him and me.”

“Between him and everyone. And he knows it!” Kara said firmly. “But, for the next year, I have to accept you, Joyce, and Kathy. For his own good. Which means for my own good. I don’t like it, but I understand why it has to happen.”

“Joyce told me that you were constantly shifting your strategy. You’ve done a much better job than the rest of us at that, while making this ‘fucking idiot’ straighten up and fly right.”

“Oh, he’s no idiot when it comes to fucking!” Kara smirked.

“Kara Blanchard!” I exclaimed in mock horror. “I’m shocked!”

Bethany was laughing so hard she was almost in tears. Kara also broke up at my comment. It took several minutes for both girls to regain their composures.

“On that, Kara,” Bethany finally said, “I will agree with you. I don’t know how ‘wild’ you’ve been with him, but trust me, full-on wild with him generally results in unconsciousness.”

Kara blushed.

“Bethany, dial it back just a bit, please,” I requested.