Chapter 33: Play or Make Love?

September 28, 1981, McKinley, Ohio

"Mike?" Nancy whispered. "Wake up! I need to eat breakfast so I can catch the bus!"

"I'm awake," I replied.

I stretched and yawned and sat up.

"Are you doing OK?" Nancy asked.

"Much better after last night. That was just what I needed. Thanks."

"I think I'm calling Ripley's," Mrs. Landers laughed, coming into the room. "Teenage boy shows up and asks to spend the night with teenage girl. She agrees and gets permission from her mom. Boy desires only cuddles, then sleeps on the couch despite having permission to sleep in teenage girl's bed!"

The couch hadn't been the most comfortable place to sleep, but Nancy and I had agreed it was the best option to avoid the temptation that would come from sharing a bed when I wasn't in the best frame of mind. We'd cuddled until nearly 1:00am when she'd helped me make up the couch, kissed me good night, and then went to her room.

"You're right," I laughed. "Nobody will believe it! I'm not sure I believe it!"

"Do you want breakfast?" Mrs. Landers asked.

"Just coffee or tea, please. When Nancy leaves, I'll head to campus and have breakfast in the dining hall."

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"I am. You leave at 6:30am, you said. That gets me back before 7:00am, and I can shower, dress, eat, and easily get to class at 8:00am."

"OK, coffee it is," Mrs. Landers said.

We went to the kitchen and sat down. I sipped my black coffee while Nancy ate her Frosted Flakes and drank her orange juice. The conversation with Nancy the previous evening had been more than a little odd, as I tried to explain that I DID want to sleep with her but didn't think it was a good idea, at least at this juncture. What I didn't say, but thought, was that going to bed with her would have been just as foolish as me having gone to bed with Becky.

The biggest thing on my mind was clearly Jocelyn. Her dad had called just before I left home to say that there hadn't been any changes and that he'd call each evening as he'd promised. I didn't have the first clue what I would say to Jocelyn, and I'd decided to make an appointment to see Doctor Hart as soon as I got out of biology class. Things had been roiled in my mind before her suicide attempt, and they had only gotten worse.

Becky's situation was horrible as well, and I'd spoken privately with my mom before I'd left. Mom was going to speak to a counselor at the High School, as well as one whose name Deputy Sanderson had provided. Mom hadn't heard anything from Father Herman as yet, and Becky was reluctant to call her grandparents in Michigan for some reason. One thing was certain, and that was that she was a very messed up girl.

I'd related to Nancy everything that had happened, leaving nothing out, on account of my agreement with her on openness. She was obviously concerned about Becky but believed I had, except for the minor faux pas while I was changing, handled the situation about as well as I could have. As for Jocelyn, Nancy reminded me that there really was nothing I could have done differently, given Jocelyn had withheld important information from me. I wasn't quite so sure.

"What's spinning around in that head of yours?" Nancy asked when she finished her cereal.

"Just thinking back over our conversation last night. It was really helpful."

"The frankness and honesty was refreshing. A bit uncomfortable at times, but I'm happy you felt you could tell me those things."

"I think you've been lied to far too many times. And it's hardly a good basis for a relationship, is it?"

Mrs. Landers, who walked into the kitchen just then, laughed.

"You wouldn't mind spreading the word with other male members of our species about that, would you?"

"I'll do my best, but I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."

"No, I don't think I should!"

"Mrs. Landers, do you mind if I ask your first name?"

"Why, Ann, of course!" she smirked.

"Oh, it IS NOT!" I laughed.

"You're right. It's Eileen."

"Do you mind if I ask where you work?"

"Not at all. I'm a secretary at the School Board office. I hear you plan to be a doctor?"

"That's right. As I told Nancy, a very long and difficult path lies ahead. Not just for me, but for whoever walks down that path with me."

"She's told me. And you go to the Russian church not far from here."

"Yes."

"Loucks isn't a Russian name, is it?"

"No. My dad is of Dutch ancestry. My mom is Russian."

"Mike, I need to get going, or I'm going to miss my bus," Nancy said.

"Shall I carry your books and walk you to the bus stop?" I asked.

"Where DID you find this young man?" Mrs. Landers asked with a laugh. "And does he have a cousin or uncle about twenty years older?"

"Come on," Nancy urged. "Grab my books off the counter, and I can show you off to the other girls in the neighborhood and make them jealous!"

I picked up her book bag, she grabbed her purse, kissed her mom, and then the two of us walked out of the house. We went down the driveway and walked two blocks to the neighborhood school bus stop where, as she'd implied, six girls were waiting for her.

"Whoa!" one of them gasped. "He's cute!"

"He's totally yummy!" another one giggled.

"Down, girls!" Nancy laughed. "He's MINE."

"If you bring something THAT delicious to the bus stop, you have to share it with all of us!"

I laughed, "OK. OK. Enough! I am not THAT good-looking."

"Did anyone ask you?" the 'delicious' girl asked. "Be a good boy and be quiet and do as you're told!"

They all laughed, and Nancy rolled her eyes. I was saved by the bus turning the corner a few seconds later. Nancy made a point of giving me a VERY thorough French kiss, which caused the other girls to either squeal or groan. She took her book bag, climbed on the bus, and waved as it pulled away.

I walked back to the house, said 'goodbye' to Mrs. Landers, then headed to campus for a shower, a change of clothes, and breakfast. I walked into my biology class with two minutes to spare and plopped down next to Pete.

"We looked for you last night," he said.

"Sorry. I had to make an emergency trip home. My friend went back into the hospital."

"Bummer. How is she?"

"OK, at least so far."

Doctor Stanton walked in just then, and we turned to face the front. As soon as the lecture finished, I begged off getting coffee with Pete and Jason and went to student health services to make an appointment with Doctor Hart. I secured one for Wednesday morning, then headed back to my room for a bit before my next class started.

September 29, 1981, McKinley, Ohio

"I really appreciated those extra hours on Sunday," Paula said when I walked into the Quick Mart on Tuesday after lunch.

"Don't get used to them!" I replied. "That was an emergency situation I had to deal with! I need my hours."

"I think we all do."

"True. What do you need today?" I asked with a grin.

That had become our running joke.

"Same as every day! A good man in my life!"

"What am I? Chopped liver?"

"No, of course not," she said, completing the sequence. "But IN my life means more than working together for three hours a few days a week!"

I got to work, and between my tasks and the steady stream of customers, I didn't get a chance to talk with Paula until close to the end of her shift. There was a lull when literally nobody was in the store but the two of us.

"Mike?" she called out.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

"Well," she said, glancing around. "If you were actually interested in a test drive, you could ask me out."

"Nancy and I are dating," I replied.

"I didn't think it was serious. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize! I'm flattered, but serious or not, it's kind of tacky to ask you for a date when I have such limited time to spend with Nancy as it is."

"So if you weren't dating her? You'd be interested? You know, in a test drive?"

"If Nancy and I break up, I promise to come talk to you!" I replied with a smile.

She smiled and winked, but I could tell she wasn't happy. And despite my promise to talk to her, I wasn't interested in walking into a situation like hers. I had enough trouble of my own and didn't need to add in a two-year-old kid, especially when I was only eighteen. That was the thing of nightmares, not fantasies!

When Nancy came in, I took the first opportunity I could find to talk to her.

"Paula wants me to ask her out," I said.

"No kidding," she said flatly. "That was obvious when you two were teasing about the 'test drive', and you were flirting."

"Flirting?"

"Sorry, she was flirting; you were clueless."

"There's a pattern there," I said.

"So I've noticed. You don't want her? Big tits, great body, pretty?"

"Is that a serious question you would ask of a guy who could have been with you on Sunday night and chose to cuddle rather than have sex?"

"You're right, it isn't. But don't you think she'd be great in bed?"

"If reports are to be believed, she's done it exactly one more time than you have, and that's too small a sample size to know!"

"And you plan to test this theory?"

"With you. Repeatedly. Not with her."

"Maybe she's better?"

"Says who? And why are you so down on yourself?"

"History, Mike," she sighed. "History."

"Is this one of those 'I trust you enough to have sex with but not enough to commit to' moments?"

"Yes."

"Are you in this for the potential long haul? Or is this just two people wanting to, well, play, for want of a better word?"

Nancy sighed, looked me directly in the eyes, and said, "That's a good question. And I don't know the answer."

That evening, after work, I called Emmy to talk to her. I hadn't really had an opportunity to talk to her when I was home because of everything that was going on. I told her about Jocelyn, and she was horrified and wondered if there was anything she could do to help. I told her I didn't think so, and until I talked to Jocelyn, I had no idea what was going to happen myself. I also told her about Becky, and she was even MORE horrified.

"I knew there was something really wrong there. I did see Becky at school and wondered where Abby was, but I figured she was sick or whatever. They disappeared?"

"It seems so. The cops are looking for them, and eventually, they'll be spotted by a cruiser, and that'll be it."

"So she's staying with your parents?"

"Only for this week. After that, I don't know."

"She's really nice, isn't she?"

"And really messed up. She needs counseling, and obviously, she needs a job and a place to stay, or she has to find some relatives to stay with or something."

"My cousin wants to get a roommate, and there are flyers at school for A&W, McDonald's, and Wendy's saying they're hiring. She'd still go to Harding High, so that could work."

I groaned inwardly. Emmy had no idea she would be helping a potentially mentally unstable girl with designs on me stay in the area. As much as I liked Becky, I had finally decided it was best if she went back to Michigan and got counseling.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I said carefully. "She needs a lot of counseling."

"Leslie has helped me a lot. She might be able to help Becky."

"Professional counseling," I said.

"Mike, let me try to help your friend, OK? Please?"

"I guess, but you have to warn Leslie that Becky is in very bad shape right now."

"I hear you. Are you coming to see Jocelyn?"

"As soon as her dad lets me know it's OK. I talked to him earlier tonight, and she's still in the ICU. I need to run; my study group awaits!"

"Have fun! See you on the 10th, if not before!"

"I'm looking forward to it!"

"Me, too!" she said. "All of it!"

I laughed, and we said 'goodbye' and hung up. I hoped against hope that Becky would go back to Michigan, but I had an ominous feeling about the whole thing. I shook my head a bit to clear it, then went back to my study group.

September 30, 1981, McKinley, Ohio

"Well, that was an unexpected turn," Doctor Hart said. "Though not all that uncommon in circumstances like hers."

"So, how do I talk to her?" I asked.

"First, you need to talk to yourself and decide, firmly, one way or the other if this is an impediment. If it is, then you have to let her know that in no uncertain terms. The timing of when you tell her is tricky, but you can't ever imply you'll accept her as your mate if you won't because she's unable to bear children."

"I have no clue," I said. "I've wracked my brain, and I can't separate Jocelyn, who is able to have kids, from Jocelyn, who is unable to have kids. She's just Jocelyn."

"That's both good and bad. Good in that you don't see her as 'damaged goods' because of that, but bad because that has significant importance in your long-term relationship. Some people simply can't accept a mate who they KNOW is unable to have kids. Granted, some couples have difficulty conceiving, but this is a very different thing from that. This is a conscious decision, forevermore, to not have natural children. Period. Could you sign up for that?"

"I don't know," I said.

"Then you can't. Not knowing is the same as saying 'no'. It has to be. You have to make an affirmative choice, one that is for life. And stick to it. Without wavering. Yes, you can adopt, and that's a wonderful thing, but having biological children is different psychologically."

"That's a tough decision," I said.

"It's not the only one like it. By signing up to be a doctor, you give up most other career paths. Oh sure, you could go back to school and try to start over at age thirty, or whatever, but that's a very difficult thing to do. And let's not forget marriage, fathering children, or a host of other permanent decisions we make over time. I know you've made some flippant comments about marrying your Russian friend, but the last thing you want to do is make a mistake and end up divorced. Divorce is another decision with far-reaching consequences we can't fully understand. I advise avoiding it."

I chuckled, "No kidding. How do I know what I want? And how can I be sure?"

"There is no easy answer to THAT question, either. All you can do is imagine the possible futures and see how you feel. I do have a question for you, and it wasn't clear to me. Did she tell you the truth about everything else?"

"I have no idea," I sighed.

"You need to find that out, too, Mike. You could be signing up for something very, very different from what you expect out of marriage and a life together."

"Wonderful," I said, sighing again.

"I do have something positive to say to you. And that is, you exercised excellent judgment with regard to Becky and Nancy. In those specific instances, your decision not to engage in sexual intimacy was right on target."

"I actually asked Nancy yesterday if she was in this for the potential long haul or just wanted to, as I put it, 'play'."

"A perfectly good and completely appropriate question. You need to make sure you know her answer before you engage in anything more than necking. For your own sake, more than hers."

"Mine?"

"You put very, very great import on the act of physical intimacy. I'm not sure you're cut out for just 'playing', as you put it. If you were, I believe you might have had half-a-dozen sex partners by now instead of one with whom you only had that single two-day encounter in Cincinnati. You need to make sure you and the young women you consider for sex partners are on the same page on that topic, or you, she, or both of you could end up badly hurt."

"So you're saying I can't be casual about sex?"

"That would be my assessment. You have a more feminine view of the sex act than most men do. There are men who could bed hundreds of women and not feel an ounce of guilt. You've made love with one and are feeling guilty because you aren't sure you did the right thing. And that was with a woman who is, for all intents and purposes, your soulmate, either as a close friend and confidante or as your spouse. Think about THAT before you decide it's time to consummate your relationship with Nancy."

I nodded, "OK. My mom also suggested we talk about stress management."

"Welcome to the life of a college student who has to work his way through college. There are a few strategies, mostly involving ensuring you have daily quiet time to clear your mind. Some people pray, others meditate, and others use biofeedback techniques. The other options are a bit more, well, difficult or extreme. The obvious one is to find yourself a sponsor who'll pay for everything.

"ROTC is often a good choice, but you'll trade working for drill. That said, you wouldn't have any debt when you finished medical school. You would have to serve a good stint in the military in exchange for that. Whether that would be a good trade would be up to you. I couldn't argue against it if you were to go that route.

"There are also programs where you agree to serve in underprivileged communities that help pay for medical school in exchange for some amount of service, but you would have limited options of where you might serve in such a program.

"Another idea, but one that probably wouldn't work now unless you found a woman six to eight years older, would be to get married and have them put you through school. Marrying someone your age, unless they happen to be an heiress, might actually make the problem worse."

"Know any eligible bikini-model heiresses who are eighteen and looking for a half-Dutch, half-Russian future doctor?"