Chapter 58: Wintertime

Saturday, December 11, 1982

As planned, Ang and I headed to HAAUG just like we would any other month we could. Yes, I had every expectation that Michael wouldn’t be there, but the point of it was to look like we’d just happened to meet, not like I was stalking him. He might never know that I’d gone in December, but he might. And I might have had a perfectly good reason to not go, but the easiest way of appearing normal is to act normally.

We’d miss HAAUG in January, but be there in February and March, it appeared. April ... who knew? Tournament of Champions might take up an April weekend. May? I could go to HAAUG around ‘The Sound of Music’. June was a toss-up, July was out, and after that, Michael would be gone and I’d either have made the connections I’d need or we’d miss out.

The program itself wasn’t very interesting — the speaker was trying to promote the flagging Apple III, which was a slow-moving disaster at the moment — and the trading part was ... routine. I traded some software, talked with a few people, spotted no one noteworthy, and we were out by one. Which we had to be, because we had our regular appointment with Jane at two.

I settled into my chair in Jane’s office.

“How’ve you been?” Jane said, settling into hers.

“Good. And I intruded on your territory again.”

“Do tell.”

“Jasmine and I had the long-deferred conversation about Impostor Syndrome. She’s convinced that it sounds like something that might apply to her.”

“I take it you were waiting for PSAT scores?”

“Exactly. The worst thing would’ve been telling her she wasn’t going to fail because it was all Impostor Syndrome, and then have her fail because I’d messed with her head. The PSAT is a standardized test that millions of people take. The National Merit people trust it enough to use it to award millions in scholarships. She didn’t get a qualifying score by luck, but she easily could’ve missed a score by being in the wrong state of mind going in.”

Jane nodded. “That makes sense. What’s next for her?”

“She might ask for therapist recommendations. We’re agreed it would be very awkward for you and her to talk professionally.”

“Much too awkward, yes. Not something I could do.”

“And not something I’d ask you to do, nor would she.”

“Do you think it helped?”

“That’s how it seems. Oh, it’s only been a couple of weeks, but I feel like she’s less nervous about everything,” I said.

“Good. If she was really struggling, I’d recommend therapy, but many people manage Impostor Syndrome just fine without needing professional help. And now she hopefully knows what to watch out for.”

“She should, yes.”

“So, what else is new?” she said.

“We had auditions for the musical last week.”

“‘The Sound of Music’, right?”

“Right. I stuck with Rolf.” I went over the rehearsal process a bit — how Steffie organized things, that no one else seemed to really want Rolf, the song I’d worked up, the lines I’d read. She seemed pretty interested in the process, and how different our experience was this year from the last-minute rehearsals we’d done last year.

“Playing the bad boy,” she said after I’d finished.

“Angie called me the anti-Rolf. I can see that.”

“And Angie?”

“I’ll let her cover her audition. Jasmine’s trying out for Maria. Of course, so were a couple of others, but I think Jasmine was the strongest choice. I’m biased, of course, in favor of both of them.”

“Of course,” she said, smiling. “But I’ve seen them both perform, and they’re excellent.”

I nodded. “Let’s see. Beyond that ... finals, next week. The football team finally lost, but I’m thrilled with how well the season went. No word from Jessica on either of her ... situations. The Debate and Drama teams are doing great while we’re taking our break. I split Thanksgiving — lunch at home and dinner at Jasmine’s — and both went well. Um ... and we have a big dance tonight.”

She smiled. “Winter Formal. I remember. What did you decide about it?”

“We’re going to pass on a hotel this time, but we’re also going to make a last-minute decision on whether I sleep at Jasmine’s or at home. I think it may be too early, but ... I don’t know. In any case, we’re going to San Antonio for several nights just after Christmas. If we didn’t have that, I’d probably feel differently about tonight.”

“Of course. It’s lucky that you can do that.”

“Angie might go, and that’s all I’ll say about that. You’ll have to talk to her about it.”

She chuckled. “I will do that. Speaking of which, I imagine Angie is not trying for Liesl?”

“She is not,” I grinned. “What? Worried about how it’d look if I was on stage trying to seduce my sister?”

“It would hardly take much seduction, I’d say. And, yes, it’s probably a bit ... much ... for most of the audience, especially your parents. Speaking of, what are your plans if she goes to San Antonio?”

“Separate rooms. We’re still behaving, and no plans to change.”

“As I expected, but I do have to check.”

“Of course, you do,” I said, smiling and nodding. “That’s honestly about it. I haven’t had much in the way of weird time-traveler moments in the past few weeks. The universe has settled itself back down after giving us that reminder that it’s bigger and stranger and less predictable than we knew. No Ultimate Solipsist Time-Traveler Impostor Syndrome, either.”

“All of which is good to hear. Are we planning an informal meeting?”

“The timing is awkward. It’d be right at Christmas. I’d say ... if we need one, yes. Otherwise, no. The 26th is a possibility. We won’t have Study Group; it’s on hold until January after next Tuesday. Oh, we’ll go to Anderson and Rita’s New Year’s party, but that’s different.”

She nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. We’ll hold those for the sort of unexpected bumps in the road that will most likely happen.”

“Speaking of bumps in the road, all quiet on the Blue front.”

“Good. Hopefully she’s found herself someone where she lives.”

“Hopefully!”

“And I should let you go. I’ll see you on January eighth unless something changes.”

“Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.”

“To you, too!”

“While I only have hazy memories of either from my first go-round, I’m certain they will be more merry and more happy than those were.”

“No doubt!”

We hugged, and then walked out. As usual, I touched hands with Angie as she headed in, then smiled at Mom, who — as always — seemed happy that I was happy. And I was, very much so.

Once I got home, I took a quick shower — not that I really needed one — and then changed into my tuxedo, making sure everything was just right. When I came out, Mom stopped what she was doing, staring at me.

“I’ve seen you in your suit, but ... still. My goodness, Steve, you look so handsome in that outfit!”

“Thanks, Mom!”

“I mean it. I’ve always thought you were handsome, but it’s still amazing to me how you’ve changed over the past couple of years. All of the dance, the karate, the biking, the running ... well, it’s been worth it.”

I’m sure I was blushing quite a bit. “Thanks. I think so, too.”

Angie came in, wearing a pale blue dress that looked amazing on her. Remembering dresses — and heels — from years past, this was still a dress that pushed a few steps farther down the road to ‘young woman.’ It was lovely and perfectly appropriate, but it was very sexy at the same time. In my opinion, based on experience, if anyone at Memorial was qualified to compare Jessica and Angie, it was me, and I’d still say she was — to me — the most beautiful blonde at Memorial. She would say that I was terribly biased, and maybe I was, but that was fine.

“Making big brother blush, Mom?” Angie said, grinning.

“I was just telling him how handsome he is. And he is! And, my goodness, just look at you! Oh, goodness, I need to get Sam. I know there’ll be pictures, but we have to take some of our own. My kids, all grown up!” She was tearing up and sniffling a bit.

Angie fetched Dad, who was — for Dad — quite effusive, too, about how handsome I was and how beautiful Angie was. We posed for pictures in front of the Christmas tree, alone and together, holding hands and hugging.

The best part of this, for me, is what we all had together. I’d always loved my parents. I didn’t love them more this time, but I understood them more. And I don’t think they loved me more, either, but they were almost certainly prouder. Add that to Angie, who of course I’d never seen with them before, but ... still. Knowing what I knew of her first life, I thought she both loved them more, and was more lovable in return — though so much of that was due to her having been here two years already, instead of one year in total — and the added depth she brought, and...

Well. A family of four, two parents, two teenagers, and no significant disagreements since ... Max, probably. No fights, no sullen teenage attitudes, no ‘you just don’t understand!’ outbursts. Of course, part of that was us being the least ‘normal’ teenagers imaginable, but an equal part of that was Mom and Dad letting go, accepting that we would be the people we would be instead of the people they’d hoped we would be, and being able to love the people we were becoming.

In a way, my relationship with Mom and Dad was the least changed part of my entire life compared to my first go-round, but in another way, it was just as different. Angie made it different, my being the person that I was made it different, and the ways we’d caused Mom and Dad to grow and change made it different.

Pictures taken, I set out for Jasmine’s house, and Angie headed off to Gene’s house. We were going to the same restaurant, then to the same dance, but it wouldn’t do to share rides. Partly because I might stay over at Jasmine’s, but mostly because these were two separate dates. It hadn’t surprised me that Angie was driving. In my first go-round, Gene hadn’t gotten his license until he was seventeen. Some things stay the same.

When I got to Jasmine’s house, Francis answered the door.

“Hi, Steve. She’s just taking care of a few last-minute things.”

I smiled. “I’m not surprised.”

“Nor should you be. I’m sure there’s a rule somewhere requiring women to be not quite ready when their date arrives.”

Camille called, from the direction of Jasmine’s room, “I heard that!”

Francis called back, “And you didn’t deny it!”

Camille chuckled. “No, I did not!”

I looked at Francis and shrugged. He shrugged, too.

“Nice tux,” he said.

“Thanks. It’s a rental, of course.”

“I bought one, and am happy to have it.”

I nodded. “If I wasn’t fairly certain that I wasn’t done growing, I’d have considered it. Mom would be skeptical, though.”

“Of course, she would. But they are nice to have.”

“I agree. I imagine I could find some occasions to wear one.”

He smiled. “I am certain that you could, indeed. I am going to go fetch the camera. There must be pictures.”

“Absolutely.”

Jasmine appeared a minute or so later, Camille right behind her. Like Angie’s, her dress was both beautiful and sexy. A deep red, it contrasted perfectly with my tie and cummerbund, and set her off very well. The neckline showed just enough of her to tantalize without being inappropriate, and the hemline was just a bit longer than the dress code minimum. Add in some medium heels, and the effect, overall, was stunning.

“Breathtaking,” I said, smiling.

Francis, camera in hand, nodded.

Jasmine grinned. “I take it you approve.”

“Very much so, but then I’d pretty much have to be dead, or not disposed towards women, to disapprove.”

She giggled. “Heck, I think most of the guys who aren’t so disposed would still like it, purely for aesthetics.”

Camille grinned. “That’s been my experience.”

Francis got us posed in the living room for several pictures, and then I suggested a couple more in front of the tree. It didn’t look all that much like ours, but it would still fit well with the pictures of me and of Angie and me in front of our tree.

After the photos, Camille and Francis said their goodbyes, and I walked Jasmine to the car on my arm, helping her in. Then I got in and got us going.

“I hope dinner won’t mess either of us up,” she said, grinning.

“Depends on what we order, I suppose. But, since we’re aware of the problem...”

“We should manage. I agree. So, where are we going?”

“You have to ask?”

She nodded. “Actually ... yes. I know you. I have my guesses, but I wouldn’t put much past you, at least if we can drive there and back again in time. That rules out, say, seafood in Galveston, but it leaves in a lot.”

“It’s trite, but it’s a tradition.”

“That confirms my first guess, and I agree. No sense messing with tradition!”

“Definitely not.”

She reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’m looking forward to this! It’s a brand-new thing. Well, kind of a brand-new thing. Fancier clothes, anyway! You look amazing in that tux. Not that I didn’t know how you’d look, but ... you still do.”

“And you look amazing in that dress.”

She giggled. “I can just hear the implied ‘and out of it, too’ there.”

“That’s pretty much somewhere where I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t. I’ll just say you’re always amazing.”

“Ooh! Good save, sir!”

“I try.”

“You do more than try. Thankfully!”

We bantered back and forth for a bit, then arrived at Brennerman’s. As I helped her out of the car, her eyes lit on a similar car a few spaces over. “Wait ... isn’t that Angie’s car?”

I nodded. “She’ll be here, not seated near us. I didn’t want to fight over who got the restaurant.”

“And a double date would’ve been silly.”

“Definitely.”

We headed in and were promptly seated. I didn’t see Angie anywhere, which meant that the reservation instructions were working.

Jasmine pored over the menu for all of thirty seconds before saying, “So ... surf and turf?”

I chuckled. They didn’t list it that way, but Brennerman’s did have a petite filet with a lobster tail.

“If that sounds good, go for it.”

“It looks pricey.”

I shrugged. “It’s Winter Formal, and that’s what money is for. I wouldn’t go here if it wasn’t something I could afford.”

“Then ... that.” She sighed. “I wish we could order wine.”

“Me, too. The whole thing is silly, though ... well ... I suspect that a lot of kids would get themselves into trouble.”

“Because they aren’t allowed to learn in a safe environment.”

“Preaching to the choir, honey.”

“At least...” she started, then blushed and stopped as our waitress came up. I gave her a look, and she nodded, so I ordered for her. I went with a filet, and ordered crab cakes as an appetizer, which made Jasmine grin. Since we couldn’t have wine, I went with Diet Coke, and she went with Sprite.

Once our waitress left, I smiled, and said, “At least our kids will learn the right way?”

She blushed a bit more. “Um ... yes ... that.”

“It’s fine to say that. I mean, we both know it’s too soon for that to be reality, but if we can’t talk about it being possible, then we’re probably doing something wrong.”

She sighed. “I love you, you know that? I doubt there are more than a handful of guys, if that, who could talk about kids before a high school dance.”

And that sent my mind in the wrong direction, thinking about how many could, especially in the 2010s, when my kids were in school. Both their junior high and high school had on-site daycares so the mothers could get an education.

I pulled out of that before I got too depressed.

“Different strokes for different folks. I’m sure at least some of the kids will be fairly serious, by this point.”

“Yeah. Some will. And some ... really won’t.”

“Too true.”

“And some shouldn’t be. Some high school relationships aren’t meant to last.”

Jasmine gave a little nod towards the rest of the restaurant. “Like someone else here?”

“Most likely, yes.”

“We talked about it. It makes sense. I like Gene, but I can see that’s probably not going all that much farther.”

“Up to her. Well, and Gene, but ... yeah.”

She nodded. “Switching subjects ... Janet and Lizzie?”

“Pretty sure they’re giving this a miss. Prom, though...”

“Yeah. I almost can’t believe they’ll do it.”

“I don’t know if they will. A lot of us think they will, but ... I have no idea. Maybe? Maybe not? I guess we’ll see.”