Chapter 105: Spring Fever

Sunday, April 3, 1983

As before, so again. We went to the sunrise service and the regular service, helped with the little kids’ egg hunt, and stayed for lunch. And we enjoyed all of it, too.

We’d had two years (three, for Angie, I realized) to become more comfortable with the idea of being ‘resurrected’ (or whatever word one wanted), but it was still a bit ... odd. It probably always would be. Jesus’s resurrection had meant something (if one believed in it, and I was at best agnostic on that subject). Ours? We’d found no inherent meaning so far. They just... were. I’d never claim that Angie’s or my second chance meant that we were better, or more deserving, or ... anything. We had no evidence of that.

But we could make our second chances mean something by being better. Better than our first selves, and better than the average person. I thought, in general, we were doing well on that front, unless we’d chosen the wrong measuring stick. If one measured us on being better Missouri Synod Lutherans, we were resounding failures.

We had a good time, and we’d be back next year. Perhaps somewhere else the year after? We might not be faithful churchgoers once we left home. Indeed, I was pretty certain we wouldn’t be. But, Easter was likely going to remain special for both of us.

The mundane side of life goes on. Easter or not, three-day weekend or not, next week was still an exam week, so Study Group was still important.

Those of other faiths, or little faith, were a bit amused, of course, but respectful of those for whom this was a major celebration.

We brought some Easter candy and shared it. Chocolate makes studying better, believe me!

Monday, April 4, 1983

When we got home, Mom met us right away. Not unusual, but I could tell something was up.

“There’s a letter for you, Steve,” she said, gesturing to the table.

I headed over and looked. It was from our auto insurance company. I opened it, looked, and let out a whoop.

“Good news?” Mom said, chuckling. Angie was bouncing a little.

“Claim approved! There’s a check here — made out to me, too — for what should be enough to get another used car.”

“Hurrah!” Mom said. “It’s funny. I feel like I should worry, now that you’ve been in an accident, but I don’t.”

“Only because Steve’s the hero,” Angie said, grinning.

“I think that’s it,” Mom said. “It’d be silly to worry more now that you’ve proven yourself to be a very safe driver.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, giving her a hug.

“Going to go car shopping soon?” she said.

“I need to look at the ads and see what I can find,” I said. “Then definitely some shopping. It’d be nice to be able to take my date to Sadie Hawkins in my own car.”

“Moving fast!” Angie said.

“No time like the present,” I said, nodding.

Not long after I got home, the phone rang with the ring that Dad used for after-hours calls. That was rare, especially with us all at home. Dad answered.

“Hello?”

“Oh! Well, hello, Mister Lancaster!”

“Yes, we received the check. It’s quite generous.”

“Thank you for your help!”

“Let me check. Just a second.”

He held his hand over the phone’s microphone. “Steve, any problem meeting to discuss depositions on Saturday? And, can Jasmine attend?”

I shook my head. “As long as I can be done by four. I need to pick Jaya up at four-thirty. I don’t think Jasmine has anything, but I’ll check. Tell him we’ll call back if she can’t make it.”

Dad went back on the phone. “Can we be done by four? Yes? Great. Steve said ... oh, you heard that? Good. Where? Your office, at ten? We’ll be there!”

He hung up. “I guess you caught that.”

I nodded. “Happy to work with them.”

“He says things aren’t moving quickly, but he didn’t expect that. They want to get you both prepared for your depositions, and practice a bit as well.”

“Makes sense to me.”

Mom gave a little laugh. “I’m amazed at how calm you are! I’d be very nervous!”

“I’ve got nothing to hide, Mom. It’s a simple story and I’m confident about the facts.”

“Still! Lawyers like to trip people up!”

“That’s Mister Lancaster’s job,” Dad said. “He’ll make sure Steve’s prepared, and interrupt if the other side asks an improper question.”

“Well, good! It all makes me nervous, but I want that other driver to pay, so ... I guess this is what you’ve got to do,” Mom said.

“Steve’ll do fine, Mom,” Angie said. “We get cross-examined all the time. The stakes are different, but we’re used to answering complicated questions accurately and quickly.”

“I need to actually see you do what you do, I think,” Mom said. “I only have a vague idea.”

“We’ll have to think of a way to do that,” I said. “It’ll likely be next year. We won’t be competing in town this year.”

She nodded. “I’d really like that!”

“Maybe...” Ang said. “I’ve got an idea. Let me see what I can do.”

“Okay, honey,” Mom said.

Dad nodded along. “I’d really like that, too, whatever comes of it.”

Angie followed me to my room and closed the door.

“I’m wondering if Meg would let us put together a mock tournament somehow. Anyone who wants to do their specialties, with family and friends invited to watch. Maybe Meg, or some of us, as judges? So we can explain judging a little, too?”

“It’s a great idea, sis. I think Meg would love it. Maybe Steffie, too.”

She blushed, then giggled. “I meant Steffie, too, really. The Drama kids get to show off more, but not with competition material.”

“It’s a great idea. I don’t know when...”

“Even if we had to wait until school was out, it’d be fine.”

“Yeah. I’m in, if Meg and Steffie are. I’m sure most everyone will be.”

“Cool!” She had just a bit of a blush, or a flush, or...

I went over and hugged her. “They know how awesome you are, sis.”

“I know, but I want to show them! It’s ... it’d mean...”

“For me, too. I never showed them any of this in my first life. It’d be special for me, too. Less than for you, but...”

“It’s just ... it’s ... wonderful! They’re so happy!”

“They are.”

She sniffled. “I love them so much. They put up with so much my first go-round, and even this time ... they just jumped in when I needed them. No hesitation, and no holding back.”

“I feel the same way, even if they jumped in for me when I was too young to appreciate it.”

“I’m going to make this work.”

“Right there with you.”

She grinned, still sniffling a little. “Always.”

“Forever.”

I fetched the Sunday paper and pored over the ads. There were some pretty good contenders. My goal was to get another land yacht, hopefully one a few years newer. It only had to last me a year or two.

College would be different all around. My (or our) own place, different transportation needs (no tournament runs, for instance), and so on. I might want to sell my car and get something more practical for our needs then, which meant resale value mattered. I might be officially well-off enough that it would matter less, though.

For now, though, I had six contenders circled in red and two less likely candidates in blue. I’d decided Cadillacs were out. I’d never be able to survive the pimpmobile jokes I knew I’d get from Angie. Likely not just her, but definitely her!

I’d decided that I might put in up to several hundred dollars extra. We could easily afford it, and it was within the range where it wouldn’t make Dad suspicious.

Angie and I both avoided the UH / NC State game. Paying attention would’ve been out of character. I did turn on the radio that night and waited for the sports, which confirmed that history was behaving itself, and we were much wealthier than we’d been the day before.

Tuesday, April 5, 1983

Most of the school was bummed about the Cougars’ loss in the NCAA tournament. I played along, of course. I’d be picking up the money tomorrow. At least I had the insurance settlement now. It would’ve been even more frustrating to win this much more (enough for nearly any car) and still have to wait.

I’d been looking for Sam Myers all day. I finally spotted her at lunch and headed over to say hi. After catching up a bit, I asked her to point out Brad Wright.

“He’s over there. Green polo. I talked with him some. He’s nicer than I thought. I think we’re fine.”

“I just figured it’d be good to introduce myself.”

“Go for it! Seems like a good idea to me, too.”

I headed over. He was short (but not for a freshman, I realized), and seemed to be in fairly good shape, if maybe a trifle thin.

Just before I got there, he spotted me and got up, giving me a slightly nervous smile.

“Hi, Brad? I’m Steve...”

“ ... Marshall,” he said, nodding. “Everyone knows you!”

I offered my hand and he shook it. Decent grip, and no hesitation.

“I wanted to welcome you to Student Council.”

“Thanks! I’m a little surprised that I won.”

“I was surprised to even find myself running, last year,” I said, shrugging.

“After I got here, I heard a bunch about it. The whole thing sounds crazy. I mean, crazy in a good way, but still crazy.”

“It pretty much was. So ... tell me about yourself?”

He smiled. “Not much to tell. I’m kinda a nerd, kinda a band geek. Trombone. Math and science more than anything else, I guess.”

“I did that for a while.”

He gave me a look. “Really?”

“Yeah. I went to the TEES competition freshman year and did okay, and I went to a bunch of math tournaments in junior high. I’ll be doing Calculus next year, and probably Physics 2.”

“Didn’t know that! Sorry if I sounded skeptical. It’s just that all I hear about is Debate and Student Council and stuff.”

“Not enough hours in the day. Janet Collins, one of the other debaters...”

“The one that wears all pink?”

I chuckled. “Yes.”

“I don’t know a lot of seniors, but I know her, just from the look.”

“Anyway, she went on that TEES trip as well and placed. She’s great at math, but it’s the same thing. You can do a lot of things, but you can only do a couple, maybe three, at a high level, or you’ll just burn out.”

“Good advice.”