Chapter 38: Twelve Times?

October 10, 1981, West Monroe, Ohio

I froze and realized my first inclination to go back to McKinley had been the right one. I'd thought my talk with Becky the previous weekend had resolved the issue, but I was very clearly mistaken. I could actually go back. It was early enough, and I hadn't told Tasha I was going to be home, so she wouldn't be upset, and a phone call would make her very happy as the two I'd made so far had done.

But there was one problem — all I could hear in my head was Liz's taunting voice. 'Run away, Mikey. It's what you do best. Coward!'. She wasn't the only one who had made that point with me. In one way or another, my mom, Jocelyn, my friends, and Doctor Hart had all pointed out the same thing. Even my dad had confirmed it with his 'found your balls' comment. No, I had to address it head-on and resolve it. Running away would only make ME worse.

A silly thought popped unbidden into my head, telling me that if the choice came down to either running away or having sex with Becky, I'd bite the bullet and go to bed with her. Silly because she was a very attractive girl with a nice body, long blonde hair, and beautiful blue eyes. Not someone who Dale would, as he liked to say, push out of bed for eating crackers. Though, apparently, given what was going on in Madison, there weren't many girls he'd push out of bed for ANY reason.

"How about we get some tea and talk?" I suggested once I found my voice.

Becky nodded, "OK."

I let out a quiet sigh of relief, and the two of us went to the kitchen. Becky waited quietly while I made the tea, and when it was ready, we went out into the cool Autumn air, closing the sliding door most of the way behind us, leaving it as we'd found it. Becky was wearing a red sweater and jeans, and I had my rugby shirt and jeans, so we'd be warm enough. I lit the candle in the tea warmer, and after I filled both our mugs, I set the pot on the warmer.

"You were eavesdropping," I said, trying to sound as nice as I could.

"I'm sorry. I heard you come in and started to come down. I heard your mom say I wanted to talk to you, so I waited, figuring I could walk downstairs when you said 'OK' to that. But then you said you wanted to talk to your mom, so I sat down. I'm sorry I listened."

"Well, we can't undo that now," I said. "We talked about this last weekend."

"I know," Becky admitted. "And I asked you to tell me if something changed. I heard you tell your mom it did."

Nancy! I'd used my relationship with Nancy as a way to deter Becky. Not only had I admitted to my mom that Nancy and I weren't a couple, but I'd also admitted to having sex with Emmy without any kind of commitment. That put me in something of a bind for being able to explain the situation. The only way forward was to be honest and be VERY careful.

"Nancy and I have been going round and round on the topic of commitment. I thought we were making progress, but given what's happened in her life, I totally understand why she's struggling."

"Her dad leaving them and her boyfriend basically cheating on her, then dumping her?"

"Yes."

"But you're going to be with her despite that, aren't you?"

I hadn't said that, but I probably had implied it, especially given the context of most of the conversation. The thing was, in the end, that wasn't any of Becky's business. I wouldn't be able to deny I'd been with Emmy, as my mom had basically outed me on that issue. The same was true for Jocelyn, but I'd freely talked about that because Mom had known even before it happened.

"I'm not sure how that has anything to do with what you're asking to do," I said.

"You can't see the similarities? Serious trouble at home? A desire to be with you but not being able to commit?"

"I suppose, broadly, you could say you both are struggling because of your dads."

"And you did it with Emmy even though you can't be her boyfriend? And with Jocelyn, who was your friend, not your girlfriend."

"Yes."

"Then I don't understand what's wrong with me. I mean, I totally understand why you said 'no' when I was in McKinley. I talked about that with my counselor, and she said my reaction wasn't all that uncommon. Or my sister's, for that matter. I could have sex with you, and my dad would leave me alone. She had sex with my dad, then wanted to have sex with pretty much every guy who came along. Dozens. Maybe a lot more than that."

"How is she?"

"Your mom and dad took me to see her last night. She's with the foster family in Dayton I told you about. She's going to a private Christian school while she's receiving counseling until the court and Family Services decide what to do. She wants to come live with me at my grandparents' house, and her social worker, who was there, said that's what they hope will happen."

"And you're OK with that?"

"She apologized for how she treated me, and I think she means it. Both my counselor and the social worker told me it was my dad's abuse that caused her to act the way she did. Counseling is helping, but it's going to take a long time. That's why she probably won't come back to Michigan until next Summer."

"And you're going to go to college?" I asked.

"That's the plan. Probably a state school in Michigan. My grandparents have enough money that they can help me with that. Obviously, nobody knows what will happen with my parents' stuff. They're going to jail, I guess."

"Probably for a long time," I said. "Especially your dad."

"Your mom took me to talk to the attorney she works for, and I guess my dad could get life in prison. And the finances are going to be a complete mess. The state will appoint a guardian for my sister, but I would have to get a lawyer. I think I should just forget it and move on. I don't think they had very much at all. We had nice things, but not, you know, luxury. One TV, two cars, and a house, but I think my parents financed the cars, and I'm sure there's a mortgage on the house. We'd take short vacations every Summer. Just normal, I guess."

"That's pretty typical for Harding County," I said. "There are a few big mansions outside Rutherford, but that's about it. Most people here are middle class, at best, and some aren't that well-off."

"I don't want to do it for that reason anymore," Becky said. "Remember, I wanted to when I was here with you? I wanted to that day. Remember my mom called me a tramp? And I said I was a virgin. My dad didn't bother me before that. Well, not since the first time he tried, and I said I'd done it already, and he got mad."

"I remember, and I also remember we agreed not to."

"We agreed I could ask at Thanksgiving," Becky said. "That's different from agreeing not to."

"True."

"And then you told me about Nancy, which I guess was true when you said it."

"It was. It was certainly how I felt. She and I talk a lot, and really, it was last night when we more or less sorted it out. I was having my own struggles."

"About having sex when you weren't in a committed relationship?"

"Yes."

"But you and Emmy..."

"I know. Obviously, you weren't supposed to know about that."

"Because I would ask you to do it with me?"

"No, because it's private."

"She never said anything, Mike. I knew you guys were celebrating her birthday today, and I thought she was about to burst, so I kind of guessed why. And I heard everything you said about her. And what you and your mom talked about, you know, desires and feelings and wanting to do it. Well, I want to."

"I know," I said. "But I'm concerned."

"I know you are. And that's good. It means you care. I'm leaving tomorrow, and I'll probably never see you again. I want to do it before I leave."

"Why me?"

"Because you're caring and kind, and I know you'll be gentle and patient. That day at your house, I just wanted to be held in your arms and feel you against me. But then in McKinley, when I saw you? Then I had all these thoughts..."

She took a deep breath and sighed.

" ... thoughts about what we could do together. Imagining what it would be like, but having no idea. I wanted it so badly I couldn't stand it. So when I was changing and had my clothes off, I called your name. I hoped you would see me and want the same thing. If not, then later. But you told me you didn't see me," she said, sounding sad.

"I'm sorry. It was a very stressful situation."

"Do you wish you had seen me?" she asked quietly.

I nodded, "Yes, but that doesn't mean I should. Or we should."

"I'm not crazy," Becky said softly. "I have struggles, but so do you."

"I know," I said. "But it's more complicated than that. Can I ask you what might be a difficult question?"

"Sure."

"How many guys would you have to be with to feel like a slut?"

"I, uh, never thought about that. I never expected to stay a virgin until I married, but I never thought about how many guys. Why?"

"It's a question I've thought about. It's something that everyone should think about. The Church and a lot of adults think you should be a virgin when you marry and never be with anyone else. So, in their case, I guess more than one would be considered totally inappropriate. But I don't agree with that. On the other hand, at some point, it gets to be too much."

"I guess, but doesn't it depend on who and why? I mean, it would be different if you just had sex with everyone you dated versus with a steady boyfriend."

"Sure," I smiled. "But what are you asking for now?"

"Um, well, shoot! I, well, I think this is different. I think it's a special case. I wouldn't just ask anyone to do this, and I might not do it again for months or years. YOU are the right one, Mike."

"What if I'm concerned about being with too many different girls?" I asked.

"Uh, I thought that was a good thing for most guys!"

"I'm not most guys."

"I know. If you were, I wouldn't be asking you to do it with me. I don't want to be a notch on someone's bedpost."

"So, how many would be too many?"

"I don't think there's a good answer. All you can do is do what's right at the moment and consider that your decision made sense at the time. Can I give you an example?"

"Sure."

"Let's say your magic number is four, just for argument's sake. You've been with Jocelyn, Emmy, and probably Nancy, or you will be. That's three. That means that if you don't marry Jocelyn, Emmy, or Nancy, you've hit your limit, and you HAVE to marry the next person you sleep with or wait until you get married so you don't violate your number. Would THAT make sense?"

I chuckled, "No."

"Make the number five, and you could have one other love affair before you're in the same boat."

"But isn't that license to just have as many lovers as you want? With no limits?"

"Not if you have standards. And you do, Mike. You could have had me several times already, but you didn't, and for good reasons. I guess you could have had that Carol girl, but you didn't. And you told me about what happened with your girlfriend from your Senior year."

"And your standards?"

"Right now? I only have one standard. Is it Mike Loucks? If not, then I'm not interested. Obviously, that's not a permanent thing, but even back in Michigan, there wasn't a guy who just felt like THE right guy. Yeah, my sister interfered, but that kind of helped clarify things if you know what I mean. A guy who would go for her was the wrong guy."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"I want to. With you. Tonight. Before I go back to Michigan. Please?"

"I don't have any rubbers," I said defensively.

"I found a large box in your sister's room. It was in the nightstand. Your mom cleared the dresser for me but not the nightstand, and I didn't realize. I don't think we could use them all up if we tried!"

I laughed, "I bought her a box of a dozen because I was worried about her."

"The box is sealed. I don't think anyone could do it that many times in one night!"

I'd been with Emmy earlier in the day, so Becky was right, but given how easily I got erections, I wasn't so sure about that! But it was interesting that the box was sealed. Had Liz used them and bought a new box? Had the guys she'd been with had rubbers? Had she been even MORE foolish than I thought?

I grinned, "I think you might underestimate the abilities of eighteen-year-old guys!"

Becky giggled, "Well if you want to try ... but you have to do it once first if you're going to do it twelve times!"

"I know. But where? I don't think my mom is going to allow us to spend the night together, and I'm not going to violate that house rule without express permission."

"If you can talk to your mom the way you did before, you can ask her. WE can ask her. We're both eighteen, after all."

"She's going to be very concerned about your mental state."

"Then let's go talk to her. If she says 'no', then I'll abide by the house rules. Your parents have bent over backwards for me, and I'm not about to do something to anger them."

"I have to be losing my mind," I chuckled.

"Because your mom is perhaps the coolest mom in the history of the world?"

"I am, aren't I!" Mom laughed from the patio door.

"You may as well come out," I said.

She came out and sat down at the table with us.

"How long were you listening, Mrs. Loucks?" Becky asked.

"Pretty much from the beginning. I was worried, obviously. And my concerns appear to be well-founded."

"How did you know?"

"Mike talked to me after the incident with your mom and again later. I know what happened in McKinley."

"And you're going to tell me not to do it, right?"

Mom laughed softly, "I think telling two healthy teenage kids not to have sex when they clearly want to is like telling our cat not to play with catnip we've given him."

"Girls are catnip?" I asked with a smirk. "That explains a LOT!"

Mom and Becky both laughed.

"Maybe you're the catnip, and I'm the pussy ... cat," Becky said, blushing slightly.

Mom and I both laughed hard at the brief pause between the syllables of 'pussycat'.

"Enough, you two!" Mom declared.

"So you'll allow it?" Becky asked.

"That's not quite what I said," Mom smiled. "I listened to the entire conversation. Will you listen to my opinion?"

I nodded, "Don't I always?"

"Yes, but you don't always agree."

"No kidding! As much as Dad says I'm you, I'm also my own person."

"Yes, you are."

"I'll listen," Becky said.

"Good. My first comment is that the two of you handled that discussion in a VERY adult way, in fact, better than most adults I know! I'm impressed, frankly. My concern, as I expressed to Mike, is that you've been through an extremely emotional and traumatic experience. Even that first time you asked him, you knew what was going on in your house and were under severe mental and emotional stress. I don't know that two weeks of counseling is sufficient to consider you in a place where you could be trusted to make the decision you've made.

"I suppose nobody can ever be totally sure about their mental and emotional state, and it's always possible to misread or misjudge your own motivations and, even more so, other people's motivations. The bottom line, and the thing I'm worried about, is consent. I have to believe you're able to consent, Becky. And I don't mean are you sixteen, sober, and not on drugs. I mean, is your mental state clear enough to give consent? I daresay that's an iffy question.

"I think, too, that's what is really bothering Mike. It was clear from what he's said and what I heard that the only moral dilemma he's worried about is the one about being, for want of a better term, a male slut. And your answer, Becky, was about the best I could come up with if I was pressed. I mean, sure, I could fall back on the teachings of the Church and say that it should only be your spouse, but as Mike knows, that would make me a hypocrite."

"Becky knows," I chuckled. "She was eavesdropping."

"I kind of got that picture. I didn't hear the very start of your conversation, but it was pretty clear from a few other things you said. So you know I had my own struggles in this area."

"I do. Mrs. Loucks, do I sound like I'm being irrational?"

"No, of course not. But being coolly logical about sex isn't exactly normal."

"I resemble that remark," I chuckled.

"OK, present MALE company excepted. My son is too logical and too rational at times."

"Well, if you want me to act less rational, I'll just take Becky upstairs and screw the living daylights out of her!"

"Um, that might be a bit of an overreaction!" Mom said with a wan smile. "And something a mom doesn't need to hear!"

I chuckled, "No play-by-play?"

"Want to trade stories about our first times?" she teased.

"No!" I spat out as quickly as I could.