Chapter 51: Storm Surge

March 3, 1981

Our détente lasted three days before it collapsed. Angie upped the ante in a way she knew was going to fail. She asked Mike if she could bring Max to study group. In Mike’s opinion, it was obvious she meant the pool house; Max would be a liability to the study group, not an asset. Angie refused to attend until they’d decided, which meant she wasn’t speaking on behalf of Max. Not that it would have mattered.

Mike brought it up for a vote. “Look, y’all. One of the group members has asked to bring a new person to group. Normally Steve would lead this...”

“It’s your house, Mike. I’m not the president or anything. But, yes. On this one, I am recusing myself. No comment, no discussion, no vote. In fact, I don’t even want to be in the room in case I indicate anything. I’m going to head over to the pool house. Someone come get me when you’re done.”

Cammie surprised me with a hug on the way. Then Mel. Then Nancy, and all the girls piled on from there.

I was over there about 5 minutes. Then Cammie came to get me. “Hey, come back. I came over because they’ll figure we’re not getting nasty over here.”

“Thanks, Cammie.”

She paused at the door. “It was unanimous. This sucks, Steve.”

“Yeah. It does.”

We went back in and Cammie hugged me again. Mel yelled, “Hey! Hands off the girlfriend!”

The unfortunate part was the minor pall it put over Sarah’s birthday celebration. But we still had fun. And cake. And ice cream.

I tried to study. My thoughts were a million miles away. The winds were swaying the bigger trees; the rain was driving and dark, battering everything in its path.

“You told them to say no!”

“I said nothing for or against, recused myself, and went to sit in the pool house.”

“They won’t even consider him! It’s so unfair.”

I took a deep breath. “Angie, if this were some guy who Nancy was trying to bring, in the same circumstances, you’d vote no. And tell her to dump him.”

“It’s so unfair! He can be great! He can! You don’t see what I see!”

“So, help him bring it out. It’s not like they dislike him because they’re a bunch of close-minded assholes, Angie.”

She growled. “It’s just not fucking fair! He deserves a real chance!”

I nodded. She growled again and left.

I sat, biting my lip, thinking about what she’d said. The whole thing was irrational. I know about abusers and victims. How the abuser will tell their victim they’ll change, they’ll get better. They’ll find ways to be sweet and charming. Flowers, presents, kind words. Then a week or two, and the fists come out. The pattern is tragic.

And that’s how Angie was acting. But she’d known Max for perhaps two months at the outside. There was no long-standing relationship. Her friends would completely support her dropping him.

Yet she was parroting the language of a girl defending her long-term partner/abuser, playing up all the pleasant moments, all the potential, and ignoring the shadows. How many pleasant moments, how much potential, could she have seen?

I considered again the idea that she was parroting Sharon; that she’d seen Sharon with abusive boyfriends doing the same dance over and over. That made sense. But she’d rejected everything else about Sharon. Maybe this damage was too deep?

The other problem with that theory was that I knew Sharon had gone from boyfriend to boyfriend, apartment to apartment. How long-term could her abusive relationships have been? And they clearly didn’t work for her, not with all of the breakups.

None of it made sense. Angie had accused me of being cold, logical, living in my head. And she was right, to some extent. I’d done that most of my first go-round, even after I’d discovered how much I needed friends and relationships and emotions. That I hadn’t even dated until late in college was proof enough that I could ignore the needs of the heart.

But I was different now. I’d embraced Candice, and I wouldn’t wait years to give my heart again. And I’d given it to Angie, too, embracing her as the little sister I adored. The little sister who was slipping away from me. And perhaps - I was desperately afraid of this - risking damaging the place she belonged within my heart.

My emotional side said I should just have it out with Max, right away. But my emotional side also said that I’d lose Angie doing that, and that was a cost I wasn’t prepared to pay. Not until Max did something that I couldn’t abide. I had to hope that, when he did... if he did ... it was something some rest and recovery would heal. And that Angie could forgive me taking action over.

So, as with Candice — but, I hoped, not quite the same — I was going to wait. Wait, and watch both Angie and Max like a hawk.

March 5, 1981

It took some work, but I was allowed to set up a special phone call. And I even managed a civil conversation with Angie long enough to explain and make sure she wanted to be on the line.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Candice. I hope you have a Happy Birthday.” “Happy Birthday, Candice, from me, too.”

“Steve! Angie! Oh, this is the best present ever!”

“How’re you?”

“Better. A little. I think. Really. It’s been a good birthday. No bad thoughts.”

“No bad thoughts is all you can ask for, honey.” “Yes, just keep thinking the good ones.”

“I’m only having this birthday because of the two of you, you know? I’m very grateful.”

“We’re happy you get to have it.” “Everything we did, we’re so happy to have been able to do.”

“I need to go. Thanks so much, both of you!”

“Be well, Candice.” “We love you! Keep thinking good thoughts!”

Even in rough times, a silver lining sometimes shines through.

March 7, 1981

Our travels took us to Lamar High School this week. I knew little about it and was expecting the average school, not a place in whose student parking lot one found Beemers, Mercedes, Porsches, and an honest-to-god Lamborghini.

It was nice. And it was a good reminder that, as rich a school as we were, we had competition on that front.

I stumbled, if making 6^th in quarters is a stumble in one’s fourth tournament. I hadn’t expected to even be consistently breaking this year. I got a pep talk from Meg, though she knew I didn’t need it. I was in for the long haul.