Chapter 8: Joyce

June 1978

Saturday morning was tough because of the previous night’s dream. I took a long shower and ate breakfast. I tried to talk to Mom at breakfast but she was still not speaking to me. Something had to give. I’d go to church again the following day as a ‘peace offering’. Maybe that would help.

Dad drove me to the deli because Joyce would be picking me up there for our date. Work was better because we were catering a Knights of Columbus lunch. That meant that I spent time doing things that required more concentration and let me keep my mind off Birgit. I also served quite a few bagels and coffee as our new morning customers developed regular habits. I wondered if Andreas would open earlier at some point to accommodate people who drove into Cincinnati for work.

Jennifer met me for lunch as was the usual, and in the afternoon I made my usual rounds. My curiosity was building. I was pretty sure I wasn’t just delivering food. I didn’t really have a good opportunity to find out, and part of me didn’t want to know. I was more curious about Stacey Nelson and about what jobs I’d be doing at the end of the Summer.

I was going to have to tell Andreas about my plans for Sweden. I wondered how he would take that news, and wondered even more how Don Joseph would take it. I realized that I had better go to dinner at his house with Larry once I was accepted into the YFU program and tell him myself. I hoped he would understand.

I wondered also what Joyce had in store. When she dropped me off the last time she had said, ‘Not maybe. Yes.’ From her perspective, it was just a matter of timing. I had no idea if that meant this date, next week, or next year. The more I thought about it, the less I was worried. When she was ready, we’d do it. But I had to make sure her heart was in the right place. The last thing I needed was another situation like Becky or Jennifer.

The question I had to ask myself is what did I want? Other than Mary, I hadn’t had sex since I broke up with Becky. And Mary was a one-time thing, though it was possible there would be a repeat sometime during the next week. I still wasn’t sure about that. Even if it did happen, she was seeing Ben and it was pushing the limits of my rule, though there were enough parallels to my situation with Birgit that I wasn’t overly conflicted about it.

Melanie and I had ended the sexual part of our relationship, at least for the time being, and I felt most likely permanently. We hadn’t had an appointment after she’d started seeing Pete, and I wasn’t going to violate my own rules or disrespect Pete. The incident with Michelle had almost ruined our friendship.

As for Michelle, it was pretty clear that our sexual relationship was over. Even if that weren’t the case, she lived too far away to see regularly. And there was never any indication from her that she wanted to meet more often than we had. Her twin was not even under consideration.

Kellie and Jennie were both done for sure. Even if Jennie and Kent didn’t work out, I had the strong feeling that nothing would ever happen between us in the future. I was OK with that. I was grateful for what she had done for me and she was grateful for what I had done for her. Kellie, well, that still bugged me a bit. Something was just off there, but that was over as well, and that suited me just fine.

Anna and I were moving forward, but with baby steps. I didn’t love her and I could see a situation similar to Becky developing. If Anna and I had sex she might believe it meant something more permanent. And Bethany, well, that wasn’t even a remote consideration in my mind. Of course, having just thought of her in this context, I realized it was. But it was something that I would deal with a long time down the road, if I had to.

The entire situation with Vickie was so complicated that I wasn’t sure how to handle it, or even if I would go through with it. I was running out of time, though. I’d need to make up my mind soon. I wasn’t worried about love, but I was worried about the impact on our families. Discovery would be a disaster.

Then there was Jennifer. Jennifer had made it clear she wanted to be my girlfriend and have sex way more often than we had before. I wanted her in the worst possible way, but I knew it was a bad idea right now. I’d have to decide what to do. But that would involve more long talks. Would she demand a completely exclusive relationship? Was I ready for that? I had no idea.

As I pushed those thoughts out of my mind, it dawned on me that I hadn’t even listed Becky as a conflict. I was a bit surprised, but I had made my mind up that I couldn’t do that to her. Sex with her was fantastic, but she couldn’t just have sex. It would mean too much. I’d talk to her, but I was pretty sure her request to have sex was about pulling me back in, not just about having a good time without commitment.

Joyce arrived as I was thinking back through everything and I realized I hadn’t decided what I wanted. I’d just go with the flow and see what happened. Joyce’s feelings were up to Joyce. I’d make sure she knew mine. It would be up to her where to take it.

“Hey, Joyce!”

“Hey, Steve! Hop in.”

“So, what’s your plan?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!”

“Actually, I would. But it appears you aren’t telling me just yet.”

“Correct.”

She put the car in gear and drove off. We ended up at Milford Main, the middle school. She parked and we got out.

“What are we doing here?”

“Swings. Let’s go.”

Swings? Odd. But I had decided I would just go with the flow. We walked over to the swings, sat in two that were side-by-side, and slowly started swinging. I didn’t know what was up, so I just kept quiet, waiting to see.

“What do you think of us?” she asked.

“Us? You mean you and me? Our relationship?”

“Yes.”

“We’re dating, but not exclusively. I like you a lot, but I wouldn’t say that I loved you in a romantic sense. In other words, I’m not in love with you. I do really like seeing you and I think we have a good time together. I’m enjoying it, really. Right now, though, I’m not in a good place emotionally or mentally so I can’t really even think about making any kind of commitment. You know I’m seeing other girls, right?”

“Yes, I do. Are any of them serious?”

How to answer that? Clearly, it was ‘no’ for Anna and Bethany. Jennifer was the question. I know what she wanted and I thought I knew what I wanted, but I didn’t think it was close to happening.

“Not at this point, no. Jennifer is really special to me, but she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Are you having sex with any of them?”

“I really shouldn’t answer that, but I want to be honest with you. No, I’m not.”

“Because you don’t want to or because they won’t?”

“Because I’m not ready to.”

“Hold on, you’ve had sex with lots of different girls. I know that for sure. You’re telling me that you won’t have sex because you’re not ready? I don’t understand.”

“Let me clarify. With one of them, it’s not even within the realm of possibility. She’s a recovering rape victim. We’re friends. Anything beyond that isn’t even something that I could think about, and she certainly isn’t ready. With both of the others, there’s at least a possibility, but I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“But you’ve clearly thought about it with me, true?”

“I think about sex all the time! And yes, of course, I have thought about it with you. I’m pretty sure it will be amazing. And the same thing applies. I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve wrecked several relationships by having sex when the girl and I weren’t on the same page. Part of that was me listening to what they said instead of being sure what they meant. Part of it was me not being able to commit because of Birgit. And part was because sex changes things in unpredictable ways.”

“And you figured this all out yourself?” Joyce asked.

“Well, experience has been a cruel teacher. I also have a couple of people I talk to on a regular basis about my issues. They’ve helped a lot. Let me be clear — I’m not blaming anyone but myself, but I’ve taken a beating emotionally because of sex. Add in Birgit’s death and I guess you could say I’m a bit gun-shy. Although I’ve been with lots of girls, I’ve been almost exclusively with one up until a few weeks ago. That’s over now, by the way. But it was a mess. She wanted something I could not give her — a permanent relationship.”

“Permanent?”

“Yeah, like married, 2 kids, a cat, and a house. And starting as soon as her parents let us get married.”

“Wow. Did you know that before you went to bed with her?”

“I should have. But she told me she’d take me on my terms. There were other complicating factors as well.”

I wasn’t going to tell her that Jennifer had made love to me then basically ordered me to have sex with Becky. That was hard enough to explain to Doctor Mercer. Explaining to Joyce would be nearly impossible.

“Things are so complicated,” I sighed. “I wish they were simpler. I wish I could figure out what I’m supposed to do, who I’m supposed to be with, and what path in life I’m supposed to take. But as much as I wish that, it doesn’t work that way. I think I really need a new start, a blank slate. But I can’t have that, either, because I’m still going to be me.”

“Yes; that’s true,” Joyce said. “You are going to be you. And that’s good because I like you. I like you a lot. You’re fun to be with and you’re one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. You remember I told you that it was ‘Yes’ and I’d let you know the timing?”

“I remember.”

“I’m still not sure about the timing. I want to do it, but I’m struggling with one thing. The very thing you raised. What does it mean to have sex with someone? My body wants it. I’ve been struggling with urges like that for years. It’s why I’m so careful in how much I kiss you and stuff. It’s why I’ve kept things very limited.”

“Well, except for climbing naked into the shower with me the other day.”

She smiled, “Yes. But you yourself said that it didn’t even register to you beyond what I did for you. I knew it was risky. It was risky because I was so tempted. But I was afraid that if we had sex at that point it would mess you up worse than you were. That you might regret it, that you might be doing it for the wrong reasons.”

“Pretty smart,” I said with a smile. “I always seem to end up with the smart ones. I’ll tell you what I say to everyone — you can only do what you feel comfortable doing and only when you’re ready, and not before. I know the rules of the game. ‘No’ means ‘no’, and ‘stop’ means ‘stop instantly’, not keep trying for a few more seconds to overcome the objection.”

She laughed, “You are one strange guy!”

“I’ve been told that. You know, I had that rule before, but finding out about my friend’s rape really drove it home. I didn’t know her when it happened and when she told me I wanted to kill the guy. She wouldn’t tell me who it was, which is a good thing. At this point, though, I would just like to teach him a lesson about how you treat women, if you get what I mean.”

“I do. I had a friend who was raped. She ended up killing herself because she couldn’t deal with it.”

“I could see how that could happen, but my friend managed to get through it, even though she got pregnant. She had an abortion.”

“Wow. And she’s OK?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘OK’ but I would say she’s working on being OK. She shakes like a leaf at any contact with a guy — even just holding hands.”

“You’ve held her hand?”

“Yeah, but it feels like it did when I was in kindergarten and we had to hold hands when we walked across the street.”

“That’s really neat. You are really trying to help her, aren’t you?”

“Yes. As best I can.”

“Can I ask you something, else?”

“Of course you can. Ask away.”

“I have dinner in my car — well, the fixings for dinner. Would you be OK with me making you dinner?”

“Well sure, but where?”

“The apartment we went to. I drove by on the way to get you and there wasn’t an envelope in the mailbox,” she said with a smirk.

I laughed, “Cute!”

“So is it OK? I’d like to do it.”

“Let’s go.”

We got off the swings and walked to her car. We drove to the apartment building and indeed there was no envelope. I began to wonder how often this apartment was used. I’d have to ask Andreas. Either I was very lucky or this was only rarely used.

Joyce opened the trunk of her car and we took out a small cooler and a grocery bag. We went inside, I adjusted the mailbox and we walked upstairs. She asked me to turn on the radio and then just sit down while she got started.

If she could cook anything like her grandmother, this was going to be awesome. I saw her unpack her supplies from the grocery bag and transfer some things from the cooler to the refrigerator and freezer. She found the utensils she needed and started to work.

The smells were heavenly. I sat and watched her move about the small kitchen area with what were clearly very familiar motions. Eventually, she came and sat by me, taking my hand in hers.

“The food has to cook for a bit. I thought it might be nice to kiss you.”

I took her in my arms and kissed her softly. I felt her lips part and I took the opportunity to gently press my tongue forward. She met me and our tongues began a slow dance, back and forth, round and round. There was no urgency to our kissing, just sweetness. We alternated with several closed-mouth kisses and then back to French kissing. I never moved my hand from her upper back and she kept one of hers on my shoulder, the other one loosely in her lap.

“I need to check on the food,” she said as she broke the kiss.

She went over to the stove and made sure everything was cooking as she wanted. She checked the cupboards and found some plates and glasses. Out of the grocery bag came a candle which she set on the table. Next came a loaf of French bread. She sliced several chunks of it and put them in a bowl and set it on the table. Butter followed from the fridge as did a bowl of grated cheese. She set a small bottle of olive oil on the table as well.

What she did next surprised me. She pulled a bottle of red wine from the bag.

“I hope this is OK. It just doesn’t seem like dinner without it. We usually drink wine at home with dinner.”

“It’s fine with that. My parents let me have small amounts of alcohol.”

She smiled and uncorked the bottle. She then pulled out two wine glasses that had been wrapped in towels. She filled each glass about halfway and set the bottle aside. She lit the candle and asked me to come to the table. I sat down and she went to turn off the lights. There was enough light from the window to softly light the room.

She took the plate from in front of me and put some penne pasta on the plate, then ladled tomato sauce over it. She added a couple of meatballs on top, then put the plate in front of me. She did the same for herself and sat down.

She handed me a piece of bread and I buttered it. She didn’t take the butter, but poured a bit of olive oil onto a small plate, sprinkled some cheese in it, and dipped her bread. We both added cheese to our pasta.

“What’s with the olive oil and cheese?”

“It’s the Italian way. You should try it sometime.”

She picked up her wine glass and held it up, “To us. To whatever this day brings.”

“«Salute»!” I answered.

She smiled, “Grandfather is rubbing off on you.”

We ate in silence, the candle burning between us. The food was simple, but awesome. When we finished we washed the dishes together, ensuring we had cleaned up properly. She had a small amount of leftovers that she put into a container and put back in the cooler. She left the bottle of wine and the glasses on the table.

When we finished, she had me sit down at the table. She went to the freezer and got out a pint of ice cream. She opened the fridge and pulled out the fixings for sundaes that I had leftover from when Kellie was there. She quickly prepared two sundaes and brought them to the table and sat down.

She picked up her cherry, and held it out. I opened my mouth and she very gently placed it on my tongue. I ate it.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the only cherry I can give you today,” she said.

“Don’t worry, I’m not expecting anything.”

“No, Silly, that’s not what I meant.”

Oops. Well, I walked right into that one.

“I’m sorry,” I said chagrined.

“I was teasing you,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “What I’m saying is that I’m not a virgin. About 3 years ago those urges started. There was a boy who was about 2 years older than I was who had similar urges. We started kissing and eventually it led to sex. Both of us were totally inexperienced, so the first time was pretty bad, but it got better. We didn’t do a lot, just usually kissing, and then we’d get right to it.”

I just listened to her story.

“Then I had a scare. I was late for my period. In all our excitement to mess around, neither of us had considered birth control. Fortunately, I did get my period. But the scare was enough to make me stop doing stuff with him. He wasn’t happy about that, but I was adamant. From then on, it was nothing more than kissing. Eventually, he broke up with me. It’s OK, though, I wasn’t in love with him. It was, well, I guess just about sex.

“Since then, I haven’t been with anyone. Partly because I was afraid of getting pregnant. Partly because of not liking guys pressuring me for it. That’s why I told you yes the other day. You’ve never pressured me. At all. Oh, you’ve flirted and teased, but you never pressured me. I was alone with you here and you were totally cool about it. I was even naked with you in the shower and you didn’t try anything. I had to restrain myself, though.”