Chapter 6: First Date?

August 8, 1980

The week passed quickly. Mom clucked at my new taste in clothes, which ran towards more t-shirts and jeans and shorts, and away from the ugly plaid shirts and corduroys that I’d thought were good the first time through. Corduroys? What the hell had I been thinking? Now I had way too many. At least I could wear them to church.

Polo shirts were fine, too, and a few button-downs with better styling were a good thing. I stopped Mom before we’d spent everything planned for my wardrobe makeover. Watching the other kids for a few weeks would help me figure out my options.

We went to the bicycle shop mid-day on Friday and picked out a shiny new ten-speed. I was sure I would put a lot of miles on this bike before I retired it. It was sturdy and should hold up to road riding and the occasional bump off a curb. In 1980, at least where I lived, it was generally legal to ride bikes on sidewalks. In some areas it was illegal to ride them on the road and they mandated using the sidewalk. Curb cuts and ramps were still decades from being mandated. While we could avoid most bumps, a few would be inevitable. No self-respecting teenage boy would stop, lower his bike, and then start up again. Very few girls would do that, either.

August 9, 1980

On Saturday I did something that I’d done in my previous life, but in such a different way that it was an entirely different experience. I’d gone to movies by myself before — fourteen, right? Of course I had. But this was the first time Mom and Dad let me go to a PG-rated movie alone. At least in my slightly conservative part of Houston, going to a PG movie when you looked fourteen involved your parents buying the tickets or trying to pass for fifteen or sixteen. It wasn’t a law, and I’m not sure it was even a written policy, but theaters just wouldn’t sell you the tickets. I might have been able to pass — I wasn’t a small kid, after all - but I hadn’t gotten up the nerve until after this point. Those were Off Limits.

Until ‘Airplane!’. We’d talked about seeing it before. My parents didn’t want to see it (which confused me; Dad loved zany comedies, so maybe Mom decided they would pass on it). They knew that I did, though. And since I was, after all, a very mature fourteen-year-old, it would be fine. The first time around, they’d driven me to the theater, Mom bought me a ticket, and in I went. I came out transformed, not by the movie (which I loved, and still do) but by learning that there was nothing magic about seeing a PG-rated movie with no Parents available to me for Guidance.

So, armed with that knowledge, I asked, while eating my (slightly late) breakfast. I knew that perhaps I’d seen it and forgotten, but the memories I had back said that I hadn’t.

“Hey, Mom. Would it be OK if I went to see ‘Airplane!’ today? I know I’m still grounded, but it’s the last chance before school. Maybe next week will be full of homework. Or friends. Or ... whatever.”

Mom bit her lip. “I guess you could. You’ve been good; I think that’s a reasonable thing. I’ll check with your father, make sure he thinks it’s fine.”

She went off to the den and was back a few minutes later. “He said it’s fine. It’s impressed him that you haven’t tried to get off the hook earlier.”

Angie walked into the kitchen. “Hey, what’s up? He’s off the hook? Where’re you going, big brother?”

“Airplane!” I smiled. “Um ... did you want to go with me?”

“Oh, I do! I’ve been wanting to see it! Can I go, too, Mom? Please?” She had her best puppy-dog look going on. I doubted it worked on Mom, but then how would I know?

Mom hesitated. “I ... I’m not sure it’s ... the right choice.”

“Aww, c’mon, Mom! Daddy Frank took me to movies like it and it was fine. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ll have my big brother there.”

“I ... I don’t know. I should check with Sam.”

Angie set her jaw just a little. “I’m only a few months younger than Steve, and we both know girls mature faster. If he can do it, I should be able to go, too. At least, go with him.”

Mom hesitated again. “Um ... OK, fine. I’ll go check with Sam.”

I stopped her. “Mom?”

“Yes, Steve?”

“I’m with Angie. I think if she wants to go, she should go. And if she can’t, I’ll wait and see it another time.” Between a movie, or building a bond with Angie? No contest.

Mom blinked. I’m pretty sure that blindsided her. Maybe that was the first time I teamed up with Angie? None of the recovered memories had given me a previous time, but there were still plenty of chunks missing.

“I’ll check, OK? You kids just wait.”

Angie looked at me. “Thanks for sticking up for me. That was sweet. And, I really have seen worse. Well, I mean, I haven’t seen ‘Airplane!’ but I’m pretty sure Frank and I saw things that were less ... appropriate.”

I nodded. “I don’t think it bothers Dad, but I guess it must bother Mom. Dunno why.” I shrugged. “The reviews made it seem like it’d be fine.”

This time, they both came back. Dad led off. “I think it’s OK if you both go. That seems fair, you’re the same age and you should get to do the same things.” I could see Mom frowning. I wondered if there might be a story there. “Steve, you’re the big brother. You take care of Angie, OK?”

I nodded firmly. “Yes, Dad, I will. Happy to.” I was, too. I liked Angie, or this Angie, anyway. Hopefully we’d be good friends. “I’ll watch out for her. And, she’ll watch out for me too, I’m sure.”

That must have been the right thing to say, if the smile Angie gave me was any indication.

I headed off to change out of the scruffy ‘around-the-house’ clothes I was wearing. I’d thought what Angie had on (jeans and a t-shirt) was fine, so it startled me when she came back in a nice pink summer dress. It really suited her. She gave me a smile that might have been a trifle shy and nodded her approval of my outfit. No surprise — she’d bought me the shirt, a nice burgundy button-down, and she’d picked out the jeans too, on a joint shopping trip.

In the car on the way over, I thought about it. This changed everything. I was — for the first time — going to a movie with my sister. I was — for the first time before well into college (!) — going to a movie one-on-one with a female person (as I said — I skipped way too much in high school the first time through). And, ‘big brother’ and ‘little sister’ or not, we were two teenagers who had no biological relationship, had barely known each other as cousins, and didn’t know each other very well as siblings either yet.

Honestly? It was a date in all but name. I’d even asked her out, hadn’t I? I know I couldn’t help but see that. I was pretty sure Angie saw it the same way. What else would explain the dress?

I even think my parents knew it, consciously or subconsciously. Oh, they wouldn’t have wanted us actually dating. I wouldn’t have either; I didn’t think Angie would. We were trying to be the brother and sister we were now. But we were both fourteen, good kids, responsible — and they never would have dreamed of letting either of us go to the movies with a single friend of the opposite gender. But us? It was a safe practice date.

Mom drove us, as she had my first go-round. But she didn’t buy the tickets. She stayed in sight of the ticket window. I expected some resistance. I was, after all, fourteen. Instead, the clerk just glanced at us, rang up the tickets, and handed them to me. I should have guessed that a bored ticket clerk wouldn’t care. That opened possibilities!

I took stock of the situation and offered Angie my arm. She blushed! “I ... Thank you, kind sir.” She slipped her arm through mine. “I’ve never ... you know ... Daddy Frank wouldn’t let me date, and ... it ... never happened. Even with my boyfriend, it was doing things in groups.”

“Well, it’s different, but I can at least try to be a gentleman. It’s good practice.”

“I agree. And, in that spirit — you get to buy the popcorn! But just a little one; I want to keep my girlish figure. And just a small Coke.” I suspect that, up to now, I’d been myself around Angie — wanting a big tub of popcorn and a giant Coke. When I saw ‘Airplane!’ by myself the first go-round, that’s what I’d gotten.

I really was trying to cut back — and doing a good job. Angie being on board would help a great deal. But I had to agree with her asking me to buy her some snacks. It’s ‘Airplane!’. We’re fourteen! There must be popcorn and Coke. There’s a law somewhere that requires it, I’m certain of it.

Somehow, I carried two small Cokes and a small tub of popcorn and still kept my arm where Angie could hold it as we made our way to our seats. The movie had been out a month; it was popular, but not that popular. We sat towards the back.

This theater hadn’t gotten the idea of drink holders yet. Maybe none of them had. We balanced the drinks on the armrests of adjacent seats, the popcorn went in my lap, and we settled in to watch.

Now, ‘Airplane!’ is not a scary movie. It’s campy and cute. There’s romance, but it’s played for laughs. It’s not the sort of date movie you go to if you want your date pressing in tightly.

Angie pressed herself in about halfway through. Not tightly, but enough.

I hesitated, thought, fretted ... then put my arm around her. That got me a smile I could see in the dark. And a bit more snuggling.

I was wondering how she’d react to the one scene of partial nudity. She giggled and then whispered, “Mine are better, I think”. I didn’t have to wonder how she’d react to the language, which is pretty tame anyway — it was already clear Angie could curse with the best of them. Or was it the worst of them?

We both loved the movie. I’m glad I’d seen it before, because I was more than a bit preoccupied this time. But I definitely loved it.

After the movie we sat outside on a bench waiting for Mom. I’m not sure why she wasn’t right there. I’m pretty sure the first time through she was. But she wasn’t.

Angie looked up at me after a minute. “I hope that wasn’t awkward.”

I shook my head. “Nah, not awkward at all. It was fun. I really liked it.”

“Me, too,” Angie smiled. “Look ... I meant it. Daddy Frank never let me date. Of course not, I was barely thirteen. The FW ... she would’ve let me do any damn thing I wanted so long as it didn’t inconvenience her. Taking me to a movie would’ve been an inconvenience. Spending money on tickets, an inconvenience.”