Chapter 13: Green Eyes?

Thursday, August 5, 1982

I couldn’t sleep, so I stayed in bed to catch up a little. I finally crawled out of bed around ten-thirty.

Mom was busy in the kitchen when I made it to breakfast. “Anything wrong?” she asked.

I shrugged. “A lot on my mind. My friend is having a rough time, and ... well. There’s just a lot going on. I feel like things are getting busy and complicated very quickly, and we’re not even really doing anything yet.”

“Do you need to slow down? Back off?”

“Nah. I just need to get back into the swing of things again.”

“Well, if nothing else, talk to Doctor Stanton about it this weekend. I’m sure she’ll have some good advice.”

“I’m sure she will, too. Thanks, Mom.”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll likely say it again, but I really like her. I wouldn’t have imagined you’d go for something like that. Angie, maybe, with all of the things that happened, but ... well. It’s been good for both of you. I didn’t know what to expect. And, I mean, you didn’t seek her out, either of you, but...”

“I know, Mom. It’s been great for both of us, and we’re both glad you’ve kept taking us.”

“Everyone’s happy! Always the best thing.”

“Definitely.”

When I got back to my room, I gave Jasmine’s house a call. I got Camille, who told me that Jasmine was out to the mall and expected back in a few hours.

I busied myself with computer programming. I’d gotten myself deep into a tricky piece of code when the phone rang.

“Um ... hello?”

“Hi, Steve.” Jasmine, and ... not perky. Uh oh!

“Hi, honey!”

“What happened last night?”

“Jessica called with an...”

She huffed a little. “Jessica! I thought it might be her!”

“Honey, she...”

“I called to tell you I’d ended early and to ask you to come over! And then you’re not there.”

“Honey, I...”

“You’re not the only one that’s horny! I missed you! And then... Jessica!”

I didn’t know what to say, not that I was managing to say very much.

“It was urg...”

“Oh, I’m sure it was urgent. Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “Fuck it. I’m going to say something I shouldn’t. We’ll talk later.”

“I love...”

The phone clicked. I guessed she hadn’t even heard the ‘I’. She must have hung up immediately.

My initial reaction? Panic, of course. This had to be fixed! Now!

Then my brain kicked in. Charging off to fix something when I didn’t even know what was broken had bitten me in the ass plenty of times on my first go-round. And this? This was a minefield.

Fights with my ex were simple. Whatever it was, she was right, I was wrong. I probably was never going to be told what I was wrong about, and eventually I’d cease being so wrong that we had to keep fighting. Okay, that’s an oversimplification, but not by much. Anything could trigger a fight, and it often wasn’t very rational. I didn’t want to go to something she wanted to go to? Fight, even if I was going and not complaining. I did want to go to something she didn’t? Fight, for even considering it. We both did, or didn’t, want to go to the same thing? I could remember at least a few fights where either of those were the case.

This? Well, obviously something was wrong about Jessica, as far as Jasmine was concerned. Jealousy seemed like an obvious fit. But ... this was Jasmine. Still ... obvious is obvious. I had to assume jealousy was likely an issue.

But why? We’d never gotten as far as intercourse, and Jasmine knew that. If we had, that would still have been okay. Jasmine knew I didn’t love Jessica, and that I did love her.

Ugh. Last night wasn’t the cause, last night was the trigger. That much I could figure out right away.

But ... back to my ex-wife: I’d seen this too many times. A little trigger turned into a giant argument. Even the wrong word, wrong tone of voice — heck, sometimes even not hearing her over the noise of a flushing toilet or running sink and making her repeat herself — and it was the end of the world. Or the marriage, either way.

I knew I was predisposed to make mountains out of molehills, after years of it. But ... ugh. It still felt a little ... mountainous. I wasn’t ready for that, not now, not with Jasmine.

I headed over to Angie’s room after a while, finding her cutting out evidence. She pulled her headphones off and put the scissors down.

“What’s up?”

“I ... have to put it off until tonight, I guess, but...”

She looked puzzled. “Jasmine?”

“Yeah.”

“She was that upset about having to leave a message?”

“I ... guess?”

Angie frowned. “Something’s wrong. Want me to try calling her?”

“Not today.”

“Okay. I swear I will kick her ass...”

“Ang. Not yet.”

“Sorry. I’m just...”

“Protective. I know. I am, too.”

“Been there, seen it.”

“Love you, Sis.”

“Love you, Bro.”

9:30pm

Angie’d come prepared. She was obviously ready for bed, and she hit the light on the way in.

“Okay. I’m worried. Explain.”

“I’m not even going to try to paraphrase. It was ... our first fight, I guess. Not much of a fight. Mostly I couldn’t say anything.”

“Sounds like a fight, yeah. What the hell happened?”

“Short answer, which I’m sure is wrong, is that her period ended early, she wanted to celebrate, and I was gone because of Jessica.”

“Which you owe me answers for. So ... I’ll just say that I can totally understand being pissed when my boyfriend isn’t available for a booty call because he’s with another girl.”

“‘Booty call?’”

“If the shoe fits...”

“Fine. So, yeah. But it seems to have really mattered that it was Jessica in particular.”

“Jealousy.”

“I think so, but ... Jasmine?”

“Sixteen. C’mon. You had to expect the occasional bump in the road.”

“I ... um. Sis?”

“Yeah?”

“You have to remember I’ve only seriously dated one sixteen-year-old girl in my life, and that, when other people were doing it the first time, I wasn’t really paying attention to the details. In fact, you might as well just say that I’ve only seriously dated two girls in my life. One I married, one I ... might. If this is just a bump in the road, anyway.”

“Fuck! The fact that you weren’t you keeps escaping me sometimes. Duh. And three girls,” she said.

“Laura?”

“Laura.”

“Was it serious if I didn’t even know we were dating?”

“Yes.”

“Um ... okay.” I shook my head a little, smiling.

“No. I’m not joking. It was serious. I can hear it in how you recount it. We say you didn’t know it, but part of you did know it. And she definitely knew it. So, yes, it counts.”

I shook my head. “I still have a lot to learn.”

“You can say that again.”

I restrained myself from doing just that. I guessed the ‘whap!’ wouldn’t have been gentle. Instead, I just nodded. She gave me a little grin, anyway.

“So ... Jessica. Jealousy, hormones, stress, exhaustion, depression. Well ... fuck. This is a sudden mess.”

“How bad?”

“How the fuck do I know? I mean, I pretend to know everything, but ... dammit. I really like Jasmine, except right now I’m pissed off at her something fierce.”

“I’m not there yet.”

“You? You never get pissed. You didn’t even get pissed at fucking Max.”

“Oh, I was pissed at Max, you just didn’t know how to see it. But you’re wrong. I was absolutely furious at my ex dozens of times. I just controlled it almost all of those times, because the times I tried screaming back didn’t go better and maybe went worse.”

“I’d say I’d kinda like to see what a furious Steve Marshall looks like, except ... one, you’d have to be furious, which sucks, and two, I guess maybe I’ve seen it.”

“The last I’d seen you up close before I caught up to Max, you were clutching your stomach after vomiting. I was ... pretty furious.”

She hugged me tight. “And I called you a bunch of things you didn’t deserve.”

“And that’s, now and forever, water under the bridge.”

She sighed. “Okay. Back to the problem. What are you going to do?”

“I can’t call right away. I couldn’t even get a word in edgewise.”

“Wait. She knows the Jessica thing was an emergency, right?”

“Um ... no? I couldn’t get the words out. I got halfway through ‘urgent’ and that’s about it.”

“Fuck. I think she thinks Jessica was an urgent booty call. Instant big, fierce, green-eyed monster.”

“Dammit. That makes too much sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. It fucking makes no sense. She was practically throwing you at Gail. She’s been fine with the Drama girls. Didn’t she point you at them last night?”

“Kinda? It seemed implied they were fine.”

“So it’s just Jessica. And I get it. I mean, she’s ... Jessica. But she’s known that from the start and you’ve been crystal clear that she’s a friend. Hell, you turned her down, and Jasmine must know that.”

“She does. I don’t get it. Well, except ... you’re right, it sure looks like jealousy.”

“So...?”

“I don’t know. Wait a day and call? What do you do when your girlfriend starts yelling at you, then hangs up?”

“Sending flowers is pretty common, but I can’t see where you’re at the ‘sending flowers’ stage. Not based on what you did. That’d be like yelling ‘I did something bad.’ Calling after a day is ... probably ... best. I guess.”

“I guess.” I sighed, deeply.

“So ... and, well, after that, if you have to wait I’ll get it ... but ... Jessica?”

“I can tell you. Um ... carefully. This is the most ‘three can keep a secret if two of them are dead’ thing yet. Two people know this, now it’ll be three.”

“You know I will. And ... I know how important it must be, that you’d even say that.”

“Okay ... so ... the story...”

And I stopped. Mid-sentence. Something ... didn’t add up. Once I started to tell it, I heard wrongness in it. Oh, it was plausible. It was really plausible. But ... was it Jessica?

Angie nudged me. “What?”

“Something ... dammit. I’m going to make you wait again. I think the story I have is the wrong story. I think ... fuck, it’s Jessica. She can tell anyone anything and they believe it’s the truth, and I swear I think it’s because, for the moment, it becomes the truth. But I think what I heard wasn’t the truth. Almost ... but not.”

“Which means the truth is worse.”

“Almost certainly,” I said, sighing.

“Dammit. You have to help Jessica and you have to avoid losing Jasmine in the meantime.”

“Jessica can wait. Jasmine is my priority.”

“You say that, but that’s not you. That’s a last-ditch effort statement for you.”

“Okay, fine, true, but ... yeah.”

“If Jasmine makes you choose, though...?” Angie asked.

“I’ll choose her. But I’ll make sure she knows it’s really unfair and that she’s doing a bad thing.”

“Right thing to do, and you might get crucified for it.”

“I’ve been crucified for less, dozens of times.”

“This is different. You and Jasmine have a chance at a storybook romance.”

“Storybooks have rough spots, too.”

“Blah. Fine.”

“I can tell you a few things that I know are true. Maybe they’ll give you some insight.”

“Tell.”

“Jessica arrived with ... well, her left eye looked bad. Bruised, yellowing. Someone hit her a good one.”

“No chance of an accident?”

“Looked like a punch, and she said it was a punch. She claimed it wasn’t aimed at her face but that she kicked his arm and knocked his aim off. I think I believe that.”

“And?”

“She was nervous and ... out of character ... on the phone. She nearly ran off when I laid eyes on her. So ... Jessica. The call, the running off, those could be her playing me. But I don’t think so. I think she was genuinely scared. Almost terrified. It’s just that the core story doesn’t quite hold up.”

“It had to be bad.”

I nodded. “Pretty bad, and it would explain a lot. I think it’s a step away from the truth. But ... well. Something’s off.”

“This is why most guys don’t try what you’re doing, big brother. You’ve got two girls in full-on drama mode.”

“I’ll survive.”

“If anyone will, you will. Okay ... got anything more?”

“No, and I’m exhausted.”

“I’m exhausted just listening to you.”

She rubbed noses.

“I love you, Steve. Always, forever. Anyone else be damned. We’re a team, no matter who else is in our lives.”

“I love you, Ang. Always and forever, and I agree. I can love ... plenty. But we’re always a team.”

She sighed. “That’s ... intensely comforting.”

“For me, too.”

“Sleep well.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Friday, August 6, 1982

Jimmy Buffett’s ‘If The Phone Doesn’t Ring, It’s Me’ ran through my head on a loop much of the day. Where was Jasmine? What was she doing? What was she thinking? Was it about me?