Chapter 53: A Surprise Visitor

February 27, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

“Would you be interested in eating Chinese again tonight?” Huifen asked when we showered on Saturday morning.

“I could see my way clear to do that,” I replied. “Did you enjoy your full night of ecstasy?”

“Seven times in one night! Plus, I sucked you and you ate me! I could get VERY used to that!”

“I will want to take a nap this afternoon,” I said.

“That’s probably a good idea because I want to keep you up all night again! I’m addicted!”

And to be honest, I was becoming addicted to her taste, as well as her very different style of blowjobs. Mostly she used them to get me hard so we could fuck, but the times she let me cum in her mouth had been awesome. She seemed to like it, she just strongly preferred screwing, which, to be honest, I did as well. Blowjobs that made me cum made for a nice change of pace, but I really, really like being inside her pussy.

As Huifen soaped my body, I recalled my thoughts of the previous day and concluded that it was now a ‘three-horse race’, as it were, between Bianca, Phoebe, and Huifen, with Bianca slightly edging out the other two. And that wasn’t even considering that Bianca would allow me to be with any of the other girls from the group. That couldn’t be the determining factor in my mind; it was simply icing on the cake. Fortunately, Bianca didn’t need an answer until July, so I had time to get to know the girls even better.

“What are you thinking?” she asked as she finished soaping me.

“Just considering what you said last night,” I replied as I rinsed off. “I’d certainly like you to stay tonight, and I’d like to see you again next weekend. I would, if it’s OK, like to keep it kind of casual until we get to know each other better.”

“You’re seeing Bianca, right?”

“Yes. And that’s casual, and there are a couple of other girls I see from time to time, too. I guess what I’m saying is that I want to see you again, and see where things go, but I need time to make a decision. I think it’s better just to let things develop, taking them one day at a time.”

“I’m OK with that,” Huifen replied. “I know I joked about forty or fifty years last night, but I also agree we should take things step by step, and not ‘skip to the end’ as you called it.”

“If we were a couple, would you be willing to live with me?” I asked as I began soaping Huifen’s small, compact body.

“I’d have to discuss it with my parents because they’re paying for school, including the dorm. That would probably mean you coming with me to San Francisco to see them before I could agree formally. Is that a requirement? That we live together?”

“No. I’m going to look for a new place for August 1st, and I plan to find a place I can afford on my salary, so if you couldn’t move in for some reason, assuming we decide we want to do that, it wouldn’t be a problem. As for going to San Francisco, that will be a bit tricky because I need to go back to Ohio sometime in June to be with my friend when she has her baby.”

“Yours?” Huifen asked in surprise.

“No. She and I were a couple before I moved to Chicago, but she’s a Senior in High School, so we broke up. Her new boyfriend got her pregnant, then dropped her like a hot potato when she wouldn’t have an abortion.”

“That’s low!” Huifen declared.

“I agree. Because I’m her best friend, she asked me to be with her when she has her baby.”

“Best friend even though you broke up?”

“It’s a bit complicated,” I said as I soaped Huifen’s tight, sexy butt. “We grew up together and basically went from best friends to lovers and back to best friends. I wasn’t upset that she started seeing someone else, because I had no way to bring her to Chicago with me, given that she was only seventeen and going to be a Senior in High School.”

“And you don’t want to get back together?”

“We discussed it when I went home, and we both agreed it’s probably not a good idea. I’m not really in a position to support a wife and baby, and neither Bev nor I are ready to marry. Back to our situation, are you going home for the Summer?”

“Yes. I’ll go home at the end of the first week in June and be back at the end of the second-to-last week in August. You could come out for a weekend anytime I’m there. It would be a lot of flying in a short time, but you could fly out Friday evening and fly home Sunday afternoon.”

“I’ve never flown,” I said. “I’m OK with doing it; I just don’t know what’s involved.”

“So, like me having sex the first time!” Huifen said, laughing softly.

“I suspect sex is more fun than flying!”

“Well, yes! I’ve done both, and I’d much rather have sex! So you’ll consider it?”

“Sex? Yes, of course!”

Huifen laughed, “I meant flying out to San Francisco. And if you could take a four-day weekend, it would be even better because you’d have more time between flights.”

“We do have July 5th off at work,” I said.

“If you could take off the Friday before, that would work perfectly, I think, assuming you want to do it. If you buy your ticket now, you’ll get the best price, and it’ll be refundable if for some reason you don’t use it. Actually, now that I think about it, my dad can probably get you a much better fare through Stanford. That’s how he gets my tickets. Do you want me to ask him?”

“What are you going to tell him? And where would I stay?”

“Unfortunately, you couldn’t stay in my room, but we do have a guest room. As for my dad, I’d tell him you were my boyfriend. Once they meet you, I could ask about living together, assuming that’s what we decide to do.”

“And your dad would be OK with that?”

“OK with it? No. Accept it as reality? Probably. I can’t say for sure. But I think worst case, I keep my dorm and spend as many nights with you are practical.”

“That’s an OK plan, too,” I said. “If you don’t feel as if you can bring the Caucasian guy home at this point, something like what you just suggested would work for me, assuming we decide to do it.”

“As I said, It’s my grandmothers who will lecture me about you not being Chinese. Honestly, if you want the path of least resistance, then it would be what I said. That would let us postpone the trip until some point in the future. How about we both think about it and discuss it tomorrow before I go back to the dorm?”

“Sounds good.”

We both rinsed off once more to make sure there was no remaining soap or shampoo, then got out of the shower. We dried ourselves, dressed, and then worked together to make breakfast. After we ate, I gathered my dirty laundry, including all three sets of bedding, and we left for the laundromat. Following my usual practice, we waited while the washing machine ran, then went to Jewel while my things were in the dryer.

“I can make Chinese food tonight, if you want,” Huifen said.

“So Chinese for dinner and Chinese for dessert?” I asked with a huge smile.

“Yes! You can eat me anytime!”

We completed our grocery shopping, with Huifen picking out a number of fresh vegetables, along with boneless chicken breasts and a packet of powdered ‘stir fry’ spices to use to make a sauce, then headed back to the laundromat. She helped me fold my clothes, bedding, and towels, then we headed back to the apartment, where we put away the groceries. We had a lunch of soup and chips, and after we cleaned up, got undressed, and got into bed. Huifen snuggled close, and we slept for a couple of hours.

When we woke up, we fooled around for a couple of hours, took another brief nap, then worked together to make dinner. I didn’t have a wok, something I’d never seen before, but Huifen made do with the cookware I had, and prepared a wonderful dish of chicken and vegetables in a light sauce, along with sticky white rice. The food was awesome, and after we ate and cleaned up, we checked the newspaper and decided to see Missing, a movie about an American journalist who disappeared during a military coup d’état in Chile.

We both enjoyed the movie, and after stopping for ice cream, we headed back to my apartment for another night of ecstasy.

February 28, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

“I think it’s less complicated if we don’t try to live together,” Huifen said as we showered on Sunday morning. “Not that I don’t want to, just less complicated. And to me, that means no pressure. We can just go out again and see what happens. I mean, besides lots of sex!”

I chuckled, “Next weekend I’m free, but the following two weekends I’ll be busy.”

“OK.”

“I also have plans for a few other weekends before June, but I’ll have time for you.”

“Good!”

We finished our shower, then had breakfast. When we finished eating, we cleaned up, but then Huifen had to go back to Loyola so she could study and do homework. I walked her to the L where we hugged and kissed before she went onto the platform and I turned for home.

I spent the afternoon reading the Tribune, the Wall Street Journal, and The Economist, then reviewed my portfolio for any adjustments. Once I finished, I called Bev.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“Getting fat!” she exclaimed, but she was laughing. “And it’s only going to get worse! I’m only about six months along, and it’s obvious I’m pregnant.”

“Has that caused any problems at school?”

“Other than my desk being uncomfortable, not much. Starting next week, I’ll have a desk with a detached chair instead of one of those where the writing board is attached to the chair. The school has a bit of experience with pregnant girls.”

“I remember at least three during Senior Year,” I said. “Is anyone giving you any grief?”

“Not really. Just one shithead who thought because I was pregnant I’d fuck him.”

“BEV!” her mother reprimanded.

“You said that to annoy your mom, didn’t you?”

“Of course! How are things in Chicago?”

“Pretty good,” I replied. “Work is basically the same, though my boss yells a bit less since he had his heart trouble, and he doesn’t smoke his cigars. Otherwise, I should have my official interview for the promotion in May.”

“Any ladies in your life?”

“I’m dating,” I replied. “But it’s just casual at the moment.”

“Anyone who might be special?”

“Possibly,” I replied. “But right now, I’m just taking things one day at a time. Is your mom still listening?”

“No. She left the room after being upset because I said ‘fuck’.”

“How are things with your dad?”

“An uneasy armistice,” Bev replied. “I suspect he’s going to put on the full-court press when you come home.”

“Me, too.”

“In the end, it’s you and I who have to decide, Jonny. And we both think it’s not the right thing to do. Who knows what will happen in the future, though.”

“True. My life right now is all about one day at a time, because as we discussed, I am not ready to make a lifetime commitment.”

“And neither am I,” Bev replied. “I have to figure out how to be a mom first, similar to how your mom did. Then I’ll worry about a husband and father for my baby. Obviously, the sperm donor won’t be involved.”

“Wow,” I chuckled. “That’s harsh!”

“What would YOU call him?”

“I wasn’t disagreeing with you! I was simply reacting to you saying something like that.”

“Yeah, well, if he wasn’t such a shithead, I wouldn’t have said it. His dad threatened to get a lawyer to fight the child support, but Dad just laughed because the law has zero exceptions.”

“On what grounds?” I asked.

“That if I’d had an abortion, which they had been willing to pay for, he wouldn’t be saddled with eighteen years of child support payments.”

“As Nick at work says when some of the Suits complain, ‘boo-fucking-hoo’.”

“Exactly! As I said, he’s a shithead and his parents are just as bad. The social worker I spoke to said no attorney would take that case because they’d be laughed out of court and the attorney might even be fined or lose his law license for making that argument.”

“Social worker?”

“I’m under eighteen, so technically I’m a minor, even though I’m over the age of consent. That means the State of Ohio has the right to monitor the situation to make sure I’m not being abused or anything. And she’ll help me file the paperwork once the baby is born, so the shithead has to start paying. Want to know something funny?”

“Sure.”

“I get to decide whose name goes on the birth certificate, and it is considered incontestable fact unless the man I name can prove through blood tests that he’s NOT the father.”

“I thought those tests were only somewhat useful, and they could rule someone out, but not rule someone in.”

“They’re getting better, according to the social worker, but they aren’t perfect. You know, I never asked, but what does your birth certificate say?”

“Mom declined to give a name, and all that’s there is an ‘x’ in the box for deceased. I’m sure she’ll tell me if I ask.”

“Do you want to know?”

“He’s dead, so I’m not sure it matters. I may ask her to write out as much detail as she has and seal it in an envelope so if my kids want to know, I can give it to them.”

“You don’t want to find your grandparents?”

“Not really. I mean, if I met them, what would I say? And what would happen? I think it would just be too weird.”

“Maybe in the future?”

“Maybe, but I think it’s best to just let sleeping dogs lie, so to speak.”

“I don’t want to run up your phone bill, so I’ll let you go. We can chat next Sunday, OK?”

“OK.”

“I love you, Jonny. Always remember that.”

“I love you, too, Bev!”

We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up.

March 1, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

On Monday evening, after a busy day at work, I sat down next to Violet. She slipped me a stick of Big Red, as well as a baseball ticket.

“April 18th,” she said. “White Sox versus the Orioles. That’s upper deck, along the third base line.”

“What do I owe you?” I asked.

“It’s my treat,” Violet said.

“Thanks. We could have dinner at a place by the ballpark after the game, if you wanted.”

“Sure.”

“Great!”

We couldn’t continue the conversation because the professor walked to the lectern to begin class. An hour later, we left the school and headed to the coffee shop for our usual study period.

“For the game,” Violet said, “just come to my house about 11:00am and we can walk to the park. We should be able to watch batting practice and eat hot dogs before the game starts.”

“That sounds good,” I replied. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Me, too!” Violet exclaimed.

The waitress poured coffee for us, and we began working on our latest assignment, which was, in effect, more of the same, just with further complexities. When we finished, I walked Violet home as usual.

“Are you seeing Doctor Lochner tomorrow?” I asked.

“Yes. Every week on Tuesday. Mostly it’s just checking to make sure I’m stable, oriented, and I’m sticking to my recovery plan. If everything keeps going well, then I’ll start seeing her every two weeks, then once a month.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t honestly know. What I have is very similar to the problems that soldiers coming back from Vietnam have.”

“Combat fatigue?” I asked.

“It’s called ‘post-traumatic stress disorder’,” Violet corrected. “That’s the name for what used to be called ‘combat fatigue’, but it turns out, it’s a response to a traumatic event, including combat, severe accidents, and sexual assault. Or, in my case, being traumatized by what my parents were doing to my sister and threatening to do to me.”

Not to mention being locked in a fucking cage, I thought, but didn’t say.

“So what’s the treatment?”

“Mainly counseling, but often antidepressants. Exercise helps, too, and I work with a personal trainer three times a week. I also have difficulty developing relationships, which is why Doctor Lochner wanted me to make a friend.”

“I can’t even begin to understand what you went through or what you’re going through, but I’ll do my best to be your friend.”

“Thanks!”

We arrived at her house, we said ‘good night’, and then I quickly walked back to my apartment.

March 2, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

“You do NOT do anything halfway!” Anala said mirthfully on Tuesday evening when I explained what had happened the previous week.

“Which?”

“All of it! You’re far too easy to manipulate, especially if a new yoni is on offer!”

“You’re referring to Mary, right?”

“Yes, and Jeri. But I think you’re allowing the other girls to manipulate you as well.”

“You mean Bianca and Huifen?” I asked. “I don’t see what they’re doing as manipulative. I mean, isn’t that how dating works, and how relationships start? I mean, in both cases they suggested a next step that is totally logical, and both of them agreed that we can take things one day at a time. Am I missing something?”

“Maybe; maybe not. But I see what happened with Jeri and with Mary, and I have to wonder about the other girls, especially given how you were manipulated into the games.”

I chuckled, “It took me about two seconds to agree to play a game that basically guaranteed me having sex with seven or eight girls! If you want to blame testosterone, so be it, but then EVERY guy is in the same boat! You know I want you, so no manipulation would be necessary! In Jeri’s case, sure. In Mary’s, sure. But with the girls? I thought it through and my only objection was that Paula was escalating each time, and I was afraid that she’d eventually pick a girl who would regret it, and that could result in a very bad situation.”