Chapter 14: Patience

Saturday, August 7, 1982

Angie and I held hands on the ride to Dr. Stanton’s office. I had my ‘everything’s fine’ face on. Mom might have bought it. Who knows? I was becoming a better liar, and I wasn’t even lying, except by omission.

That said ... it’s Mom. It’s quite possible she knew something was wrong, if not what, or how much. Never underestimate Mom, or her ability to detect things that are ‘amiss.’ That’s a bad idea.

I gave Jane a hug once we’d entered her office. I had to figure Mom wasn’t aware of that, or of how our relationship had developed.

She hugged right back, of course, saying, “It’s good to see you!”

“You as well. Very good, and very timely.”

I sat in ‘my chair,’ she sat in hers.

“Timely? More post-event depression, or something bothering you about your ex?”

“Um ... neither ... hrm. No. I was going to say ‘neither of those,’ but post-event depression is involved. Just not mine or Angie’s.”

“I’m intrigued, and also concerned.”

“Both are reasonable.”

“I’m ready to listen.”

“Okay. It all starts ... I suppose ... with picking Jasmine up at the airport...”

I went through the events: Jasmine exhausted from her program and out of sorts at Study Group with possible post-event depression. Jessica’s call and her story, and the missed phone call. Fighting, then more fighting.

Jane has a good therapist poker face, and she put it on. She was warm and sympathetic, but that was the limit. That was what I needed here. I needed a therapist who was a friend, not a friend who offered therapy.

“That is ... quite the sequence of events,” she said once I’d wrapped up. “I imagine you have a plan?”

“I do. I need to talk to Jessica and see what’s going on there — clearly just talk, given the rest, though I don’t see much chance of anything more right now, list or no list — and then I need to wait and see what Jasmine does. Oh, I’m not going to wait and see indefinitely, but she asked for time and I can do that.”

“Wait. I’m missing something. ‘See what’s going on’ with Jessica?”

“I was wondering if you’d note something there before I hinted.”

“It ... didn’t sound like the strongest reason ever for ditching Sheila, I’ll admit. Not that teenage girls don’t do some very silly and impulsive things. Nor, really ... well. She seems comfortable enough dating big, strong guys in one-on-one situations.” Jane paused. “You think she was lying?”

“Um ... well. Not ... exactly. I think Jessica believes what she’s saying when she says it, or something close to that. I think many elements of that are probably close to accurate. It’s just ... not all there. That’s my guess, anyway.”

Jane nodded. “Obviously, you know her better than I do. Speaking of which, you’re horning in on my territory with Jasmine and post-event depression.” She gave me a look, pretending to appear stern, then chuckled. “Which is the right thing to do, I think.”

“Me, too. Oh, I’m not trained and might give bad advice, all of that, but then it is just advice. I’d suggest checking with someone if it was serious.”

“Steve ... I have to say ... um. I know you know this, but ... she really is sixteen. She’s going to make mistakes. One of the biggest things that clobbers teenage relationships is overreacting.”

I nodded. “I get that, though ... I almost overreacted anyway.”

“You must have seen it.”

I shrugged. “Some, with my kids. Remember, first-go-round me didn’t date at sixteen, or seventeen, or eighteen, or...”

She chuckled a little, nodding.

“And I also didn’t pay close attention to other people’s relationships back then. I really am learning some of this for the first time.”

“I get that. You and Angie are still an unusual mix of mature and teenage. You more than her, I’m sure owing to twenty more years and many more experiences. Sometimes I have to remind myself you’re not exactly teenagers, but almost as often I have to remind myself you’re not as old as you could be.”

“In our case, ‘you’re as old as you feel’ has some extra meaning.”

She chuckled. “Definitely. So ... back to your troubles. I don’t know Jasmine well, but I know what I’ve heard, and ... well, therapists aren’t in the business of guessing about relationships, so much, but friends are. I would guess that she will give you the clues you need to fix things. I can’t imagine that, at her core, she wants to lose you. Part of her might be scared of commitment at sixteen. I would be!”

“To be honest ... I hadn’t thought of it in those terms. Maybe she’s pulling away not because things are bad but because they’re too good?”

“Eh,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s too simple. Not just that she wouldn’t do that consciously, but it’s more ... maybe ... subconsciously testing things. Seeing if the ‘good’ is brittle. Seeing how clingy you’ll be and how you’ll react. Do you jump to the next girl? Do you wait forever? Do you go to her house and grovel?”

I chuckled at that.

“What did I say”

“It’s not what you said, exactly. It’s ... when you said ‘grovel’, my mind had gone ahead to ‘make some big romantic gesture.’ There’s a movie coming out ... um ... I don’t know when. Late this decade, I think. The guy drives over to his girlfriend’s house — they’re having trouble, of course — and stands outside her window. He’s got a giant portable stereo — those are starting to appear now, but are much more of a phenomenon in the late 1980s — and holds it over his head, playing a song he hopes she’ll respond to. Despite how silly that sounds, it’s actually a really good movie, but it leapt into my mind thinking about grand romantic gestures.”

“A much better one than some.”

“Well, true. ‘Endless Love’ has some grand gestures...”

“Um. Yes.” She gave me a look. “Don’t do that.”

“You know that’s not me. I’m not waiting too long, though. The old me might have waited forever. But ... I agree, really. Of course, I’m biased, but ... I don’t think this can be ‘real.’ Though, people do crazy things when they’re scared of commitment.”

“True enough. Okay. It’s Angie’s turn, really. You’ve got my number. If all is going well, you don’t need to call, though if you get something resolved, let me know, please. But otherwise, if you need me, call.”

“I will, of course.”

We both got up and hugged.

“Thank you again for letting me into your world, Steve. I’ll say the same thing to Angie.”

“We’re glad to have you there. This really is so much better with someone to talk to. We had each other, but we’re both ... biased, I guess.”

She nodded. “I’m happy to fill that role. Of course I am — it’s what I do.”

We walked out together. Angie and I touched hands briefly as she passed me to head back.

“Another good talk?” Mom asked, looking up from her magazine.

“Always.”

“Good!”

Despite my telling Jane that I’d be patient and wait, actually doing it wasn’t easy. I kept wondering how Jasmine was doing. What Jasmine was doing.

The other little element in this was the lack of phone calls from girls who I expected might call. I didn’t know if this was normal, or if Jasmine had waved them off. I really didn’t believe she’d do that, but ... I hadn’t believed we’d be fighting, either, and now we were.

They say patience is a virtue. If so, I feel like I live my life on the edge, virtuous much of the time, but often simultaneously full of vice. I can delay gratification for hours, days, weeks, months, even years, but I’m likely to be annoyed about it many times.

Part of me really wanted to call Jasmine and move things along. The more rational and adult parts realized what a terrible idea that was and kept me under control, if sometimes barely.

9:45pm

Angie slipped in and snuggled.

“How’d your session go, Sis?” I asked.

“It was fine. We talked a lot about you, of course. Nothing you don’t know. No answers, just questions, for the big things. She wanted to verify that your version of events was as accurate as possible. I’m not the best source, but it seems to be.”

“I try to not shade things too much when I’m taking with Jane. I’m sure it’s impossible to be objective, but I try.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Play Jasmine’s game. Talk if she wants, wait if she doesn’t. I’m not talking to Jessica yet. She gets a day or two more. Then I’ll see where things stand there.”

“Would you...?”

“Consider Jessica if Jasmine decides this is really it?”

She nodded.

“No.”

She smiled at that, nodding to herself.

I went on. “Lots of reasons. I really am convinced that we’re not a good match. She’s too controlling. I’ve been there, done that, got the t-shirt. I could do it, but why? It’s not how I want things to go.”

Angie nodded.

“Beyond that ... could I be the face of ‘Jessica’s boyfriend’ for two years? I’m not sure. It’d be ... tough. Really tough. Some of that would be her — everything I do would reflect on her. Some would be everyone else. Some would be me. Then ... telling her about us. I think I could, but it feels wrong.”

“I can see that, yeah,” she said.

“And then ... well, this is the biggest one. I could take up with a dozen girls if Jasmine and I split. Many of them wouldn’t last — Paige, for instance. Some might. None of them would be insurmountable if Jasmine changed her mind. I’m certain that Jessica would, at least today. Pursuing her would say there was no fixing things with Jasmine, ever.”

“Of course. I mean, she’s on the list.”

I shrugged. “The list is just sex. Okay, fine, Jessica and I got all too close to that once, but... pursuing her would be about intimacy, love, romance. That’s the real ‘bridge too far.’ I could still do that with Paige, for instance, and ... eh. The list matters, but if Jasmine hadn’t put Jessica on the list, I’d still know it was a no go.”

“I get it.”

“We haven’t even gotten into you being disappointed, or everyone else.”

“Me? I’ve always said you were in Jessica’s league.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t be disappointed.”