Chapter 33: The Party

December 28, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

I had, after giving it a moment’s thought, taken Bev to my bed where I’d reacquainted myself with her gorgeous body. She showed no outward signs of being pregnant, though I noticed her breasts were larger, and she’d laughed when I mentioned it, saying that WAS a sign of being pregnant. Our first coupling had been like crazed bunny rabbits, as Bev put it, but after that, it had been more gentle and loving, though we had one final rip-roaring fuck right before breakfast on Sunday ending with Bev biting my shoulder to muffle her scream when she had an overwhelming orgasm.

I’d left Ohio about 10:00am, which gave me time to get back to Chicago, have dinner at my uncle’s house, and then have him give me a ride home. I’d thanked him, gone up to my room, showered, read the Sunday Tribune and gone to bed. Now, I was on the L on my way to the office on Monday morning of another short week, though I’d be staying in town.

I was looking forward to the New Year’s Eve party, and wondered if it would be as wild as Kristy had alluded it would be. I’d heard about parties like that in High School, but never really believed them. Too many guys liked to brag, and as the REO Speedwagon song said, the ‘tales grew taller on down the line’. That said, my experience with Kristy and Allyson seemed to indicate there might have been some truth to those tales.

During my drive home, I’d pondered the situation with Bev, and what the correct answer might be. I cared very much for her, and I wanted the best for her, but the idea of being a dad scared the living hell out of me. Not that I didn’t want that, eventually; I did. But at nineteen? I’d never even considered it until Anala had suggested that might be what Bev wanted.

I was very glad Bev had given us both time so that we both had a chance to think things through. She had confessed her true fear — that she was considering it only because of the baby, and while that was true, we had been a couple for two years, longer if you began counting before we’d given each other our virginities. I could see myself married to Bev at some point, but next Summer? And with a baby? As my mom had suggested, I was not ready for ‘instant family, just add ring’.

But that didn’t answer the question, because I wanted to do the right thing, and make the right choice, not hide behind a lame excuse of being ‘too young’ or ‘not ready’. As Mr. Newton had once joked, if he’d waited to be ready to have kids, Bev would never have been born. It was, he said, when you reached a certain point, time to bite the bullet, as it were. Was next June that time? I couldn’t see it, but I also knew I had several months to think about it.

Part of my concern was what would happen if I turned Bev down. It wasn’t going to be nearly as bad as it had been for my mom and me, because Bev’s parents had accepted the situation, although they certainly didn’t ‘approve of her behavior’, as she had put it. On the flip side, living with Bev was probably about the easiest thing I could do. We were completely compatible, liked the same things, thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company, could talk to each other about anything, and the sex was fantastic.

I knew this was going to preoccupy my thinking for months, and I’d need to come to a decision, but I did have months, and I had plenty of time to talk to Anala about it, and talk with my uncle who had found himself in a similar situation, though one of his own making, rather than what amounted to a request from my best friend. No, I thought, Bev was WAY more than that, even if I’d never said it or consciously thought it until about a month ago.

That led me to the question about dating, and after having thought about it during the drive, I felt I could date, though what I couldn’t do was go steady. I had laughed, because it seemed there was no limit on the amount of sex I could have without being steady. That had brought to mind the situation with Rachel, and with Jeri’s offer, and how I would deal with the two of them. With Jeri, I could probably just avoid seeing her, but that wasn’t possible with Rachel.

Rachel had said ‘no conditions’, but I didn’t believe that was any more true than people who I’d heard say ‘no law’ in the First Amendment meant you couldn’t make it illegal to make threats or form a conspiracy. In my experience, that kind of ‘no’ was always accompanied by an unstated ‘except for’ which provided for a functioning society, or what my High School government teacher had called ‘ordered liberty’. You were free to do anything you wanted, but you were never free from consequences. And that was how I viewed Rachel’s statement.

Ultimately, I felt if I told her there was no chance I was going to go steady with anyone, THAT would be something which would trump her ‘no conditions’ statement, because I could not see Rachel engaging in casual sex, at least not the way I did. I had no external set of rules, and I made my decisions about which girls I would be with based purely on what I felt was right in my situation. I didn’t need some guy in robes telling me when, with whom, and how to have sex, and not even Rachel, as pretty and sweet as she was, would make me even consider listening to some holy man.

Bev had laughed at what she called my ‘newfound bounty’, and I marveled at the situation, because I was still working in the mailroom. Bev had pointed out that girls were attracted to me for the same reason her dad felt I was a good guy — ambition, dedication, hard work, and, Bev had added, good looks, though I didn’t consider myself anything but average in that regard. I had given her some details about Kristy and Allyson, and had even mentioned Nickie, who I thought about calling.

I got off the L and made my way to the Hancock Center on North Michigan Avenue, then rode the elevator up to the Spurgeon offices. The short week was nice, but Mr. Nelson was taking the day off, which meant Nick would have to cover for him. Fortunately, he’d approved Kristy working the full day, which would make things a bit less insane. When I arrived on the 30th floor, I put my Winter gear in my locker, put on my Spurgeon jacket and clipped on my ID, then went to the mailroom where I punched in. Kristy arrived about a minute later.

“Have a good Christmas?” she asked.

“I did. You?”

“It was OK. Too much time with relatives I don’t really like. But I just hung out with two of my cousins I get along with really well. One of them, Phoebe, just turned eighteen and will be at Allyson’s party. The other one is sixteen, so I couldn’t invite her.”

“I’m looking forward to Thursday,” I said.

“Me, too!” Kristy exclaimed. “Are you going to call Allyson?”

“I’ll speak to her at the party.”

“Too bad the dorms are totally closed this week. I could come to your place, if you wanted.”

“I’d really like to play it cool for another few weeks. I don’t want to do anything that might upset my landlord.”

“Bummer,” Kristy pouted. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know!”

I had a very busy day, even though trading was somewhat reduced due to the holiday season. I ate lunch in the break room and only saw Rachel briefly when I passed her desk. I had basically worked out what to say to her, but we wouldn’t really have time to talk until after the first of the year.

When I finished the busy day, I headed home.

December 31, 1981, Greater Chicagoland, Illinois

Thursday was a half-day because the markets closed early, and when I left the office, I headed to Union Station. Alysson had suggested I ride with Kristy, but Kristy wasn’t working. Kristy gave me instructions on how to get to Naperville by train, with the promise to pick me up at the station. I found the ticket window and purchased a ticket to the Eola Road station, then went to the platform where the train was already waiting. I got on the non-smoking car, put my overnight bag on the luggage rack above the center aisle, then sat down next to the window.

The train left about ten minutes later, with every seat in the car occupied, mostly by businessmen. Because it was an express, with the first stop in Downers Grove, the ride was only about forty minutes. When I got off the train, I saw Kristy who waved to me, and I walked to meet her. She greeted me with a hug and quick peck, then we walked to her car.

“Nice BMW,” I said as we got in.

“My graduation gift, along with the trip to Europe and the one I’m taking to Australia and New Zealand.”

“How long has your dad worked at Spurgeon?”

“Eight years.”

“So nearly from the beginning, if I remember the firm history correctly. Spurgeon Capital was founded in 1971.”

“He started as an assistant to a legendary options trader and when that guy retired about six years ago, Dad took over and has done even better. Which area do you want to move into?”

“Currency trading, I think. Well, that’s the most likely, I guess, given who I’ve tried to cultivate a relationship with.”

“Which trader? Matheson or Nielson?”

“Matheson.”

“He’s one of Dad’s friends there. Matheson has been there from day one. If he’s your sponsor, you’re going to be able to afford a BMW, trips to Europe, and all the other cool stuff that comes with making millions.”

“Eventually.”

“Sooner than you think. If you play your cards right, and make the right friends, you’ll be making mid-six figures in less than five years.”

“I didn’t think people could move up that fast.”

“If you’re ambitious and get results? You absolutely can. It only took Dad five years to be bringing home that kind of money according to my mom.”

“What did he do before?”

“He earned his CPA license and was working for a Big Eight firm when he ran into the options trader in a bar. They hit it off, and he became the guy’s protégé. That’s what happened with Monroe, who’s my dad’s friend as well.”

Monroe was an utter jerk, but I felt it was unwise to say that to Kristy, given he was her dad’s friend.

“We’ll see what happens,” I said. “One step at a time.”

“Dad says you have to push hard to get what you want.”

“Speaking of that, what is it you want to do?”

“Law,” Kristy said. “I’ll start pre-law at Northwestern in the Fall. I hope to work for a Wall Street firm when I graduate. I’ll probably go to Harvard or Yale for law school.”

“What’s Allyson’s major?”

“Biology. She’s pre-med.”

“What does her dad do?” I asked.

“He’s a tax attorney. Most of the Spurgeon traders are his clients.”

“With a goal of helping them keep as much of the money as possible.”

“Obviously! Why give it to the government?”

“Roads? Schools? Police? Fire? Social Security? Medicare? Military?”

“Were you old enough to vote last year?”

“By one day,” I chuckled. “The election was on the 4th; I turned eighteen on the 3rd.”

“Who did you vote for?”

“John Anderson, because I felt Carter was too much of a wimp and Reagan was likely to provoke a confrontation with the Russians.”

“Are you a Republican or Democrat?”

“I didn’t have to register a party, so I didn’t. I consider myself an independent, but I tend to agree with the Democrats more than the Republicans. I think, overall, the government does far more good than bad, though from history class I know it’s done quite a few bad things both in the country and in foreign countries.”

“You might want to avoid that topic at work,” she said.

“Obviously,” I grinned. “While I don’t talk to the Suits, I do hear things that are said and it’s pretty clear they’re all pretty much against taxes and government in general. And when I move up, I’ll just keep my political opinions to myself. I’ll just focus on business.”

“And all the nookie you can handle!”

I laughed, “I don’t seem to have a problem in that regard.”

“You’re good looking and ambitious. That’s pretty much all it takes. They see you having good earning potential and that’s a turn-on. And the more potential, the more they want you. And once you start making real money, you’ll have to fight them off. You’ve seen Matheson, right? At least fifty-pounds overweight and at best average looking. But he can bang any girl he wants, despite being married.”

“My personal ethics would never allow that last bit. When I get married, I’ll be faithful and expect my wife to be as well. But I don’t expect to be married anytime soon.”

Well, there was Bev, but that was an internal debate for another day.

“We’re nineteen! We’re supposed to be getting drunk, laid, and high, not married!”

“No drugs for me,” I replied. “I hope that’s not going to be a problem at the party.”

“No drugs. We weren’t stoners or burnouts in High School, we were Prep. The two groups did NOT mix. There were some other rich kids who did drugs, but they had their own clique. And there were the jocks and cheerleaders too, of course.”

“I never became a member of any of the cliques because I worked every day. I only had a couple of friends because I didn’t have time, and didn’t have the money.”

“Even working two or three jobs?”

“Almost everything went to my mom so we could afford to stay in our house and keep the lights on and some food on the table.”

“Uhm, sorry,” she said.

“For what?”

“Basically rubbing your nose in how much money we have.”

“Your dad earned it, and I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t blame you, or think you’re evil or anything. If there’s any blame, it’s whoever or whatever caused the plane crash that killed my dad before I was even born.”

“Whoa! How long were your parents married?”

“They weren’t. Mom was sixteen and met a salesman who was in Cincinnati on business. They met at a Reds game, she snuck out to see him, and I was the result. She never saw him again.”

“Did he know she was pregnant?”

“No. When she found out, she tried to get in touch with him and found out that he’d died in a plane crash.”

“And your mom never married?”

“No. She never even had a boyfriend. It was always just us. Her parents kicked her out of the house, and she’s been on her own ever since. She managed to scrape by, working two jobs, and with a little bit of help from the government, but not much.”

“Who watched you?”

“When I was really little, some of her friends from when she was in High School, including one who later lost her husband in Vietnam. Another one was much younger, and she would watch me after school and in the evenings. By the time I was eight, I could take care of myself so she left me at home, but I could always go to my neighbor’s house if I wanted to, or if I needed help.”

“And now you have a chance to make a ton of money.”

“Thanks to my uncle helping me get my foot in the door. He was sympathetic because he and his girlfriend got pregnant when she was eighteen and he was in college. My aunt worked, putting my uncle through school, and they saved a bit of money which he parlayed into his real estate investment firm.”

“Alec Glass, right?”

“Yes. You know him?”

“I met him at some fundraisers. His daughter is the biggest bitch I’ve ever met, and I’ve met some real bitches. Sorry! She’s your cousin, so maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Oh, you should,” I chuckled. “Because it’s true! She’s a spoiled brat and a bitch! You seem to come from similar kinds of money and aren’t a bitch.”

“Most of the girls in our group in High School weren’t, but there were a few. Of course, if you ask my little brother or sister, they’ll tell you I AM a bitch!”

“How old are they?”

“My brother Billy is fourteen, my sister Marie is sixteen. You’ll meet them because we’re stopping at my house for about an hour before we go to Allyson’s to help set up. My parents are in Florida for New Year’s. They don’t dig snow and cold.”

“So why live in Chicago?”

“Because of Spurgeon. You know there are no offices anywhere except in Chicago, right? Well, he wants to work there, so he puts up with the lousy weather. I suspect my dad will retire as soon as my brother graduates from High School. I meant to ask — did you eat?”

“Yes. I had a sandwich and a Coke I brought from home on the train.”

We arrived at Kristy’s house which had to be at least five times the size of my mom’s house, and she pulled into a three-car garage next to a pair of Mercedes, one black and one white.

“Leave your bag in the car,” she suggested.

We got out and went into the house through the door from the garage, took off our coats and hung them by the door, then walked through the laundry room and kitchen and into a great room that, by itself, was almost as big as my mom’s house.

“Who’s the hunk?” a cute girl with dark hair asked.

“My friend Jonathan from Spurgeon. Jonathan, that’s Marie.”

“Hi, Marie,” I said.

“And that’s Billy,” she said nodding towards the couch.

“Hi,” he grunted, not taking his eyes off the TV where he was playing a game on a videogame console. I’d seen one, once, but it hadn’t really held any fascination for me.

“He’s glued to that thing day and night,” Kristy said. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour if you want.”

“Sure.”

She led me downstairs to a finished basement that had a pool table, a projection TV, and a bar, then back up to the first floor where we walked through the great room to get to the dining room, then back to the front of the house where her dad had a study. Finally, we went upstairs and she showed me five bedrooms, ending with hers.

“Want to play pool?” she asked.

“I’ve never played,” I said. “I don’t even know the rules.”