Chapter 38: You Never Know

January 4, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

Neither Rachel nor I said anything more before we arrived at Mr. Greek Gyros, where I ordered the Gyros plate and Rachel ordered a cheeseburger platter. As was usual for the place, we got our drinks ourselves from the machine, and sat down at a table to wait for our orders to be ready.

“Is the girl back home the real reason you and Lily broke up?”

I shook my head, “No. I told you the truth about that. It really was, in the end, about church. It’s a bit more complicated, but I can’t reveal the confidence. Ultimately, if I did anything wrong it was not realizing that the compromise I thought I could make wasn’t sufficient.”

“The same problem we had initially.”

“More or less, yes,” I admitted.

“But Lily was willing to go to bed with you.”

“And despite what I think you believe, that wasn’t the impediment for us, or if it was, it was only as a proxy for the true impediment.”

“My faith,” Rachel replied, stating it as fact, not as a question.

“Yes. I learned a few things while I was seeing Lily, and one of them was that the Catholic church has all kinds of complicated rules, some of which you and I discussed, and I’d have to agree to all of them to marry someone who was Catholic, if they wanted a church wedding. And the more I learned, the more I realized that the compromise wouldn’t really work, because I wouldn’t allow myself to be muzzled by something I didn’t believe.”

“And you think that’s the situation between you and me, even though I said I wanted to go to bed with you, without any commitments.”

“But we both know it’s not that simple,” I replied as gently as I could.

“Because you think my faith controls literally everything in my life? And that I can’t change my mind?”

“It’s actually more about the long term,” I replied. “Let’s say you decide you can give up going to church, we marry, and then when we have kids, and you want to baptize them. What then? A huge fight? Doing it in secret? Not doing it and being unhappy for the rest of your life? Divorce?”

“Can you guarantee you won’t change your mind about something important?”

“Guarantee? No, I can’t. But we’re not talking about me changing something that is core to my being.”

“But how could I ever prove it to you if going to bed together isn’t enough.”

“You do remember the conversation we had where you told me that Mary basically suggested using sex as a way to lure me into coming to church, right?”

“I would never do that!” Rachel protested.

The counterman brought two trays to our table and set them before us. He asked if we needed anything, and when we said we didn’t, he went back behind the counter.

“But you can understand my hesitancy. right? Especially after what happened with Lily.”

“I suppose.”

“And how would you feel if we did that and things didn’t work out?”

“Well,” Rachel blushed, “if Rebecca is telling the truth about her and Luke, it’ll feel fantastic!”

I laughed, “OK, yes, but you know what I was getting at.”

“That I’d regret doing it because things didn’t work out the way I hoped?”

“Yes.”

“And I told you there were no conditions,” Rachel said, sounding exasperated. “We’re going in circles. Will you answer some questions with complete honesty?”

“I can try,” I replied.

“You like me, right?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And you find me attractive?”

“Of course.”

“And you’ve at least thought about going to bed together?” she asked, blushing slightly,

“Obviously, from our conversations.”

“And I’ve made it clear that there are no conditions.”

“You have.”

“Then when we finish eating,” she said, blushing again, “will you take me to your apartment so we can make love?”

“Do you realize the implications of those last two words?” I asked.

Rachel was quiet for a second, then leaned forward, blushing such that her face was bright red.

“Will you take me to your apartment,” she asked quietly, then lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper, “so we can fuck?”

“Will you answer a question for me? With complete candor?”

“Yes,” she said sitting back.

“Have you stopped going to church every Sunday?”

“No,” she admitted, sounding defeated.

“Then I think you see my point, right?”

“Yes,” Rachel admitted, sounding defeated.

We ate the rest of our meal in silence, and when we finished, we left the restaurant, and headed towards the Loop so that Rachel could catch her train.

“I guess I don’t see any way to break out of the vicious cycle,” Rachel finally said as we crossed the Chicago River. “Well, not one you’ll contemplate, anyway.”

“You’re that convinced I’m Mr. Right?” I asked.

“What part of ‘madly in love with you’ didn’t you understand?” she demanded.

“Nobody has ever said that to me before,” I replied.

“You’ve never said ‘I love you’ to anyone, have you?” Rachel asked, sounding a bit more upbeat.

“Not in a romantic context,” I replied. “My mom, but that’s it.”

“I scared you, didn’t I?”

“Not so much scared, but put me on notice, I guess.”

“And that’s why you won’t go to bed with me.”

“It’s one of the reasons. I can’t make the commitment to you that those words demand.”

“I shouldn’t have told you,” she said quietly.

“I disagree. That’s VERY important information for me to know, just as what I discussed with Bev was important information for you to know.”

“And now, you really can’t do anything until you decide about Bev. Well, nothing serious.”

“I’d say that’s right. I do like you Rachel, and maybe the six-month pause is just what we need, or maybe it’s better to say what I need.”

“Will you at least meet me part way?”

“How so?”

“Have lunch with me, go to dinner every other week, just as friends, and see how things go? And when you decide what to do about Bev, we either stop seeing each other or go to bed together.”

“You seem to have a one-track mind,” I chuckled, hoping I didn’t offend her.

Rachel laughed, showing that I hadn’t.

“Once you start thinking about it it’s kind of hard to stop thinking about it!”

“True!” I agreed.

“So?”

She’d basically boiled things down to what Anala had said I should do — either break things off or figure out a way to have a relationship. And, as I analyzed it, that really was what would happen — we’d stop seeing each other or we’d have sex.

“That will work,” I replied.

“Then on Sunday I’m going to tell my priest I’m not going to come to church again.”

“What will your parents say?”

“They won’t be happy, but I’m nineteen, so what can they really say?”

“They’re not going to kick you out of the house or anything like that?”

“No. They’re serious about church, but they’d never kick us out, even if we turned up pregnant.”

“Just checking,” I replied.

“So I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Rachel smiled and slipped her arm through mine. I wondered if somehow I’d been played, but I didn’t think so.

January 5, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

Anala laughed softly and shook her head when I finished describing the situation with Bev and Rachel.

“Why is it funny?” I asked,

“It’s just amusing,” Anala replied. “I wasn’t trying to make fun of you, just thinking about the conundrum you’re facing which seems to go against everything you’ve said about marriage. You’ve gone from ‘years from now’ to basically choosing which of two girls to marry in June. Well, not that you’ll marry in June, but you will commit to one or the other.”

“Did you miss the part where I said ‘or break up’ when I mentioned Rachel?”

“No, but do you really believe that if you elect not to marry Bev for the purpose of caring for her and her baby, that you won’t start a relationship with Rachel that has a very clear end-point, and the path to get there is very, short. In fact, that path is probably five or six inches long.”

I laughed, “I’m not quite sure what to say to that!”

“You got the inference, obviously.”

“Obviously,” I smirked. “But you’re also two or three inches short in your estimate!”

Anala laughed harder, “I’m tempted to make you prove that, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Bummer!” I chuckled.

“So, other than being incorrigible, how do you feel about the situation with Bev?”

“In one sense, it’s frightening, but I can’t let that be the deciding factor.”

“Nor can you allow guilt to be the deciding factor,” Anala said. “I get the sense that you feel responsible somehow.”

“I’m not sure that’s the right word, but I do feel as if I somehow let her down.”

“How so? You were honest with her, right?”

“Completely.”

“And is there any doubt in your mind that she knew how you felt about her?”

“In hindsight, no. We both knew, we just didn’t say it.”

“She made her decision, Jonathan. Now you have to make yours. But you have to make it for you, because it’s a lifetime commitment. You have to be happy not just with the decision, but with everything that comes with it.”

Which was more or less what I’d said to Rachel. I wasn’t surprised that Anala was saying similar things to me to what I’d said to Rachel, because I had, at least in part, accepted Anala’s analysis of my relationships.

“I said something similar to Rachel.”

“So you have been listening.”

“I try,” I replied with a wan smile. “But this is all very, very new to me.”

“You’re very intelligent, and had you applied yourself in High School, I suspect you could have had a needs-based scholarship to Harvard, Yale, Stanford, or MIT.”

“I was too busy working to help my mom make ends meet.”

“Sorry. I should have said ‘had you been able to’, not imply that you were a slacker. Anyway, the rest of my point is that you can work this out if you set your mind to it, and don’t let either of them trap you into a specific course of action. And I’m not trying to say they’re trying to trap you, so much as catch you, if you understand the distinction.”

“I think I do.”

“So, what about your plan to not make a decision like this at this point in time?”

“I believe that went out the window when Bev got pregnant and Bob dumped her. That basically meant she was going to ask, and it also meant I’d have to answer. And you warned me about Rachel, and I elected to have dinner with her.”

“Because of Bev?” Anala asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I don’t think so,” I replied.

“Let me ask you a completely unfair question — if you had to choose between them, who would you choose?”

“That’s not the situation,” I protested.

“Isn’t it?” Anala asked. “Your decision about Bev, of necessity, has to take into account your feelings for Rachel. Not doing that is setting up a potential major problem in the future.”

I took a sip of my tea, something Anala had pushed me to drink rather than coffee, and contemplated for a moment.

“I suppose that’s true,” I allowed. “I can’t forget Rachel exists, so she’s going to impact my thinking about any girl.”

“Does Bev know about Rachel?”

“Not specifically. She knows I’m dating, and didn’t tell me to stop.”

“Did she imply it?”

“Only if you subscribe to the ‘test’ theory, and I specifically asked that question. Bev was extremely clear that the only promise she wanted was that I’d be with her when she had her baby.”

“’Will you walk into my parlour?’ said the Spider to the Fly.”

“You really think that’s what she’s doing?”

“I don’t know her, so I can’t say definitively, but if she had asked you directly to marry her, would you have?”

“Shit,” I sighed.

“Wow. You usually don’t swear.”

“In the right company, I do, but not often. You’re saying that Bev knew that request would create significant problems, so she asked me for something she knew I could agree to.”

“I’d say so, yes. And please don’t think I’m impugning their motives or suggesting deception. Just that she’s known you from the time you were an infant, and so she knew what she could ask for without having you run from the room, hop in your car, and drive back to Chicago.”

“And Rachel, once she realized her approach wasn’t working, basically did the same thing,” I replied. “She asked me for something I could do, which furthered her goal.”

“Yes, and that’s normal human behavior, not malicious, unless there is malicious intent. Relationships, like any contract, are subject to offers, consideration, negotiations, and compromise. In effect, barring the application of force or drugs, you can only be taken advantage of by your own consent. And before you object, I’m talking in one-on-one relationships.

“I can give you an example, which I think will make sense. There are some, especially on the political left, who would say that your employer is abusing you or taking advantage of you because he makes millions while you make only slightly more than minimum wage. Is that how you view it?”

“No. If I felt it was abusive or that I was being taken advantage of, I’d never have taken the job, or having taken it, would have looked for a new job. I knew the salary and benefits which were offered when I accepted the job. So, now, if I decide I’m being taken advantage of, it’s on me to fix it in one way or another, but the bottom line is I agreed to exchange my labor for my pay, and I owe my employer my best effort.”

“Now, apply that to Bev or Rachel.”

“So long as I go into a relationship with my eyes open, it’s on me, not on them, assuming they’ve told the truth.”

“Which you believe they have, right?”

“Yes. Where I get hung up is figuring out how to decide based on things that might happen in the future. Then I’m at a loss.”

“As are most people. All you can do is evaluate what you know and make the best decision you’re able to make, while doing your best to avoid foreclosing options.”

“Marriage pretty much forecloses all other options.”

“A traditional marriage yes, but there are alternatives.”

I laughed, “A harem like some Arab Sheikh?”

“You laugh, but the man who owns your company is married, yet according to you, he has quite a few lovers.”

“I can’t imagine cheating,” I replied. “That would be a violation of my word.”

“There are open marriages and other non-traditional marriages.”

“I think one wife ought to be enough for me,” I chuckled.

“I wasn’t implying otherwise, simply saying that marriage doesn’t foreclose those options, it’s your view of marriage that does.”

“Aren’t those the same thing?”

“Do you expect your views to stay the same forever?”

“Obviously not, as you’ve changed some of them!”

“So, not the same, then.”

“OK, I get it, but that’s rhetoric which doesn’t really apply in real life.”

“It doesn’t? Rachel’s view about sex changing is merely rhetorical, not real?”

I took a deep breath and let it out, “OK. But, once I’ve given my word, that’s it.”

“Because the relationship won’t change? What would happen if, and this is just wild speculation, you and your wife meet a young woman and you decide you both want to go to bed with her. Can you not do that, because you gave your word, even if you both want to do it, and agreed to do it?”

I laughed, “Somehow I don’t see that happening with Rachel or Bev!”

“But, as you said, people change their views. May I ask something personal, which you can certainly refuse to answer?”

“Sure.”

“Have you ever had a threesome?”

“Yes,” I replied.

Anala laughed, “Well, color ME surprised! I expected you to say ‘no’ to that! It must have been recent.”

“Right before Christmas. Have you?”

“No. But it’s not something that is outside the realm of possibility with the right man and right woman.”

“Not two guys?”

“Possibly, but I think if I were going to do that, it would be a man and a woman. But I’m just speculating now. My point, though, was that you CAN see the possibility, obviously. Perhaps those two young women would be willing to share permanently.”

“A possibility I hadn’t even considered,” I allowed, then continued with a smirk, “so I should ask Bev and Rachel to share?”

Anala laughed softly, “If you think that’s a wise course of action!”

“Probably not,” I allowed with a wry smile.

“The point, besides invoking the usual male fantasy, which you have achieved, was that there are possibilities you haven’t considered. I just want to impress one thing on you — saying ‘no’ to both of them is a viable option. So is saying ‘not now’, though of course, then you risk them choosing to follow a different path that no longer includes a romantic relationship with you.

“You’re nineteen, and I daresay you’ll have plenty of other options, so just evaluate your choices now, and you don’t necessarily need to consider them in order, either. You might, for example, decide that you want to end your relationship with Rachel, and take her off the table, so to speak. Or you might decide you can’t become an instant father, and decide Bev isn’t a possibility. Or you might consider everything at once, and decide if Bev, Rachel, or neither is the right choice.”

“Or both,” I smirked.

“And how do you think that would go over?”

“I doubt I’d be alive thirty seconds after saying that to Rachel. Bev, on the other hand, would likely laugh herself into labor.”

“And do those potential answers tell you anything?”

“No, because it’s not a question I’d actually ask.”

There was a twinkle in Anala’s eye, “Would you ask the two girls you were with for a repeat?”

I laughed, “You are a pain in the butt!”

“Remember, nothing we’re discussing directly affects me; my job, if you will, is simply to get you to think and consider possibilities you might not have considered.”

“And what do you get out of this?”

“A friend, and the satisfaction of helping someone define and achieve their goals.

“Uh-huh!” I smirked.

Anala laughed softly, “OK, except for that! You and your extra-large lingam will just have to be disappointed.”

“You’re that good?” I asked, mimicking her question to me.

“I’d give you back the answer you gave me, but that would only encourage you to be incorrigible!”

January 8, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday I left the office to walk to Shaw’s Crab House to meet Phoebe. I was very much looking forward to a good seafood dinner, and resolved to try something I’d never had before. Of course, that was trivial, as the closest I’d ever come to ‘seafood’ was fish sticks, which my mom had served me when I was much younger. They’d been inexpensive, and I loved them, so it had worked out well for her.

I’d had lunch with Rachel, just as I had every day since Monday, and she’d carefully avoided even a hint at anything to do with church or our relationship, keeping her word that we were ‘friends’, at least for the interim. My conversation with Anala hadn’t clarified anything, though it had given me a different way of thinking about my situation.