Chapter 9

Saturday morning, I answered the door and let Franklin, Karen and Sally in. We went to the kitchen where mom had coffee and orange juice. Then she put out warm bagels and this ridiculously tasty cream cheese. Franklin had pad and pencils for each of us and he gave us some basic principles of budgeting as we ate all of the bagels.

“Two parts. Income and expenses. Income has to be greater than expenses or you go in the hole. If you have a cash reserve, you can do that for a while but you have to save up and build the cash reserve. We’re going to work backwards. I’ll give you some categories and you can write them down. Then, I’m going to ask you to take a guess how much you think you’d spend in each category. After that, Karen and I will try to give you a reality check and we’ll figure out how much you’d need for income if you wanted to pay for it all. Sound good?” We nodded.

“We’ll start with the big expenses and sort of group them. Home. That could be rent or a mortgage payment. Under that, you should put utilities. That’s water, gas and electricity. Insurance and taxes too, depending on whether you’re renting or buying. Groceries is next and you should leave a category for dining out or maybe entertainment. Then car and that includes a car payment, insurance, gas and an allowance for repairs. Then clothing and finally, you might want to put a category for saving and one for charity, if you think that’s important. We could add a lot more categories but those are the basics. Enough to give you the idea at any rate. I guess, if this were a budget for when you were at college, you’d have to include tuition, books and all that, as well.

“Now, next to each thing you’ve got listed, take a guess at how much you think you’d spend.”

I looked at him like he had caterpillars for eyebrows. “Franklin, I don’t have a clue how much any of this costs. I don’t know how much a car or insurance costs. We pass gas stations all the time and I think gas costs about a dollar twenty-five.” I looked at Sally and she shook her head. I realized I didn’t know how much anything costs. I knew about the things I’d bought recently but that was it. I felt like a ditz. Did everybody else know this stuff?

For the next hour, Franklin explained how much we could expect each category to cost, giving us a low and high for each. I found out that the cost of insurance on our home was practically enough to rent a small apartment. The whole thing was an eye-opener for both of us. I’d come up with ways for Sally to remain in Charleston but that was before I had any idea what those ideas would cost. Now I understood that none of them were even remotely feasible. Well, that just sucked.

With a bare-bones budget, he told us how much we’d need to earn to break even. Then shared some tricks to make it work. Things like getting a roommate to split the cost or buying a beater car or even a scooter for transportation. The difference between eating out at High Cotton compared to Taco Bell or cooking at home was huge. He said he thought a lot of people spend far more than they think on eating out.

Sally and I asked a lot of questions. It was all new to us. I guessed that Sally was trying to put it in her dad’s perspective and I got the impression that she might be more forgiving of his choice to move. I didn’t ask, but that’s what I was thinking. They both said we could learn a lot by shopping for an apartment or car. Karen explained how one grocery store might have great meat but terrible prices on everything else. It hadn’t been in the plan but it fit with the lesson and Franklin and Karen needed groceries so we went grocery shopping. We went to Piggly Wiggly and got a lesson in label reading and nutrition. Franklin and Karen were doing the whole thing without notes and I was pretty overwhelmed at how much you needed to know to live on your own. Sally kept looking at me with that questioning look on her face. We got back to Franklin’s, put away groceries and sat around the kitchen table. It was time to ask questions again.

“Ronnie left us a lot of money,” I said and Franklin nodded. “Enough to buy the house you live in now?”

“Yes. Easily. But we didn’t. I have a one-year lease.” He guessed my next question. “I’m not used to managing a lot of money and I don’t want to screw it up. I make pretty good money and Karen does well, too. We thought it would be smart to live on what we make until we have some time to think about it and make some long-range plans.”

“So, you’re not sure if you’re going to buy a house or what?”

“I’m pretty sure we’re going to buy a house. Here’s the deal, though, not a lot of people know that we inherited a chunk of money. The people at my work don’t. I’m just a regular guy. As soon as people find out what I’m worth, they will become my new best friends. My needy, new best friends. I don’t need friends like that. Plus, a lot of people that suddenly come into money, make some rash decisions and end up broke and in debt. We both know the money is there. It’s in a separate account and we don’t touch it. We’ve been doing some research and I have a financial advisor. We meet with him twice a month. He manages our money and income and teaches me. Karen, too. She’s been to a lot of our meetings.”

“And a lot of it has gone right over my head,” she said.

“Don’t let her kid you. She has a head for numbers. You could come with me next time. I think we’ll meet once more before Christmas.” And with that, Sally started crying.

I tried to comfort her but she pushed me away.

“What did I say?” Franklin asked.

Karen had taken Sally in her arms and had her wrapped up.

“All you said was Christmas,” I whispered. “She’ll be gone before then and it reminded her. At least I think that’s it.”

“Dang. I’m really sorry.”

“I’m sure she’s not mad at you. Almost everything is a reminder.”

We watched while Karen did her magic and calmed her down. She just held her and stroked her hair and we could hear her talking softly to her. Sally gave a couple of shoulder shudders and exhaled, then turned around.

“Okay. I’m good. Sorry,” she said looking at us sort of sheepishly.

“It’s okay, Baby. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

Sally said she was okay but she really wasn’t. She tried for the rest of the day to hold it in and not get emotional. I found out later it was that mysterious time of the month where women tend to be extra emotional. That was her. We managed to get through the day without another breakdown. Franklin was especially quiet, trying to guess what might prevent another breakdown.

Sally and I finished the day on her front porch while Franklin and Karen waited in the car. I wrapped my arms around her and just held her for a minute and she clutched me back.

“Want to hear something crazy?” I asked.

“Yes. Of course. Is it especially crazy?”

“Yeah. It’s actually kind of pathetic too. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”

“Right. Now you have to,” she said. We were whispering into each other’s ears, unable to see faces.

“Well, this is going to sound weird but ... I feel kind of good that you’re taking this so hard. That sounds mean and I don’t want it too. But it means that you really, really love me. Otherwise, this would be easy for you.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“And here’s the other crazy thing, crying is my new hobby. I’m getting pretty good at it but I hate it. I try not to do it when I’m around you because I’m the guy, you know?”

“I know.”

“This is going to be good for you. In the long run. I mean, your dad gets a huge raise and you get to live in the music capital of America. You can get a good teacher, or tutor or whatever, and probably pick your college.”

“I know all that in my head but I can’t get it down into my heart,” she said. “It’s a very long way to go.”

“That’s a fact. Listen, I could stay here with you all night but I don’t want to make them wait.”

“No. You should go. They’ve both been really great today. Tell them thanks again for me,” she said and we kissed. It was a bit anticlimactic but still nice. Even a simple kiss from Sally was a good kiss.

The following week was more of the same. Sally came to work out. She was pretty quiet but worked really hard at lifting, probably because she didn’t know when she would get to do it again, or maybe because it was a good release. On Tuesday and Thursday, I rode to her house after lifting so I could listen to her play. She had homework from her one visit to a piano teacher and she worked on that when I wasn’t around and played songs she thought I might recognize or appreciate when I was there. I asked to hear her homework once and she played that for me. She told me they were etudes, designed to challenge her. She played one at regular speed and then again as fast as she could. It was actually pretty funny when she played it that way and we had a good laugh. We were becoming friends instead of sweethearts and I wasn’t happy with the change. We both knew it was coming. We simply didn’t know how to deal with any of it.

I didn’t have much of an appetite that week and Mom nagged me about it for a couple of days and then gave up. I probably lost some weight. I know I lost some sleep. I kept thinking there was a solution, and that I simply hadn’t thought of it yet. Sally could not move away. She just couldn’t and until I could figure out how to stop that from happening, life wouldn’t be normal. At school, people kept their distance. They didn’t know why I was in a funk and weren’t interested in finding out. My rides into school and home were quiet.

Saturday morning, Franklin and Karen picked us both up early for a day trip to Hunting Island, a state park on the beach. None of us had ever been. Franklin thought it would be fun to see things together that neither of us had seen. It would make it less like a farewell tour for Sally and more like a simple fun outing. He turned out to be right.

On the two-hour drive south, we enjoyed going through Franklin’s case of cassettes and enjoying some new music. We gave thumbs up to Journey, Tom Petty, and the Cars and thumbs down for George Michael, Elton John and Abba. The Stones were, well, they were The Stones and they got a thumbs up. ZZ Top and Huey Lewis got a thumbs up and so did Sting. We agreed that no one would remember the Pet Shop Boys or Hall and Oates in five years but there was a new band called Metallica and we all thought they would be around for a long time.

After a while we got tired of music and just talked. We stayed away from topics like moving or holidays and stuck with the trip and scenery. A couple of times, I thought Sally was going to bring up a memory or something but she didn’t. Normally, I would have pressed her to talk more but I didn’t want to risk a breakdown. We went through Beaufort, saw a few restaurants near the water that looked like they would be good places to eat after we toured the island. Beaufort is the nearest big city to Parris Island, where the Marines train, so they have more pawn shops and bars than Charleston. We passed through for the last thirty minutes out to Hunting Island. It isn’t really an island but part of a peninsula between two other peninsulas. One peninsula is north with Edisto Beach at the end of it and the other is south with Hilton Head. The drive out to the island was so beautiful it was almost surreal. Franklin found a parking spot between huge pine trees, live oaks and palm trees and we started walking toward the park and lighthouse.

Our obvious first destination was the old lighthouse. The only way to the top was by a spiral staircase and we trooped to the top of it. Karen led the way, then Franklin, Sally and me. I followed her butt to the top. No one was behind me so I played with it all the way up. I smacked it and she swatted at my hand. I pinched it a couple of times and she swatted at it again. I was having fun messing with her. What I really wanted to do was stop her on the steps and make love to her. Her tiny ass cried out for attention. I grabbed her hips to slow her down and when Franklin and Karen were far enough ahead of us, I bit it. She didn’t swat at me.

“I want you,” I said as I took another step up and held her hips and pushed against her.

“I want you, too, so bad.” We held tight together like that for a moment and then started walking up again. “Let’s not torture ourselves,” she said. I took her hand and squeezed it in agreement.

Franklin and Karen were waiting for us at the top. The view from the top was pretty spectacular. A walkway around the top of the lighthouse let us see that half the horizon was the Atlantic and the other half was the park. Trails connected lagoons and inlets with thick woods all around.

“Where too?” Franklin asked.

“Lagoons, over there,” Karen said. “I know they’re full of shore birds.” Karen was a sometimes birdwatcher and none of us had any objection so that’s where we went.

Karen led the way with Sally and she kept turning around to shush Franklin and me so we wouldn’t disturb the birds we were approaching. The two of them seemed to be having fun and Franklin and I were pretty happy about that so we kept our distance. The trail turned into a boardwalk over a lagoon and we stopped in the middle of it. Karen pointed out Great Blue Herons, a variety of egrets and other birds, all looking for food. We hadn’t seen ten other people since we’d been at the park so when another couple crossed the boardwalk, we had them take a group picture for us.

We kept walking all the way out to the beach, talking mostly about what we saw and we saw plenty. There were dozens of alligators but we’d all seen them before. We saw a slew of loggerhead turtles, a couple of raccoons, and even a red-tailed fox. There were too many herons and egrets to count. Coots and gallinules had a competition to see which bird could make the most outrageous racket.

Karen said something about bird calls and Sally felt the need to try one. She let rip in what sounded more like a sick chicken in distress than anything else. We laughed and the louder we laughed, the more energy Sally put into her sick chicken call. When she finally stopped, we did too and noticed that it was quiet. The gallinules, moorhens and coots had been making a racket but they had stopped.

“You scared the crap out of them, Sally,” Franklin said and we continued to listen.

“Call them again, Baby,” I said.

She let it rip again and immediately the lagoon full of birds joined in or answered back or whatever birds do. Karen was mystified but Franklin and I weren’t. We laughed. When we could stand it no more, we started walking back toward the lighthouse.

“My throat is sore” Sally complained.

“My ears are sore,” I replied.

“Funny guy. It’s tough work talking to coots. They said you’re a bonehead, by the way.”

“Nice,” Franklin said. “So, are you the moorhen mama or the coot cackler?”

“I’m Sally Serenade. The birds like me, even if you don’t. Now go away or I shall serenade you again,” she said with a silly Monty Python voice.

We echoed a chorus of ‘noes.’ As we walked back toward the lighthouse, every time we heard a bird, Sally would clear her throat, and we’d chorus the ‘noes’ again. Thankfully, we made it back without another serenade.

We’d hiked for miles but still had enough energy to hike back to the top of the lighthouse. The view hadn’t changed but we had a better idea what we were looking at the second time around. We couldn’t get enough of it, just looking at forests, lagoons or the Atlantic. It was way past lunch time and Franklin suggested we leave for Beaufort before his stomach started serenading us. We needed no further encouragement. We climbed back down and took pictures at the base of it and had a stranger take a group picture of the four of us with the lighthouse in the background. I knew it was a great shot. I asked Karen to take one of just Sally and me. She took four or five and put another roll of film in.

We drove back to Beaufort for lunch at a seafood grill on the waterfront. We were enjoying the conversation and talk about Hunting Island so much I don’t really remember the meal. I’m sure it was good. On the way out of town we stopped at a new little shop called The Chocolate Tree. It was heaven on earth. They sold chocolate. Every type of chocolate imaginable. They had soft, cream filled chocolates and chocolates with nuts and mixed boxes. It was probably a good thing that I hadn’t brought money with me. Karen found what she called the epitome of decadence in Chocolate Truffle Supreme. She bought a pound and for some ridiculous reason thought that was enough. We bought a sampling of a dozen other varieties, just so we didn’t miss out on something else that was really good.

We got in the car she handed out little pieces. They were so good. After my first bite, I told Franklin he should go back and that I needed to borrow some money. She had a difficult time handing pieces out fast enough. We were greedy. That pound of decadence was gone before we made it back to Highway Seventeen. Then Karen told Franklin to go back for more. He laughed and we all chanted, “Go Back, Go Back” and for a moment I thought he was going to but he stayed on track for home. Jerk. Forced to try other, lesser varieties of chocolate, we continued to nibble and by the time we got as far north as Green Pond, we were all pretty sick of chocolate. I hadn’t even thought that was possible. We made jokes about it for the rest of the way home. It was pretty funny how we all ate too much but loved every minute of it.

When it grew quiet, I asked, “Would anyone like just one wafer thin mint?” It was quiet for another half second and then everyone busted out laughing. We could all relate to the Monty Python glutton character.

Franklin gave his best British accent to answer, “I think I’ve had enough,” and that was the end of it. We drove in silence some more, each of us enjoying the memory of the day and the satisfied feeling, the good lunch and great chocolate had provided, not to mention good company and conversation.

Franklin put the latest Van Morison album on and searched through the cassette until he found the song, Coney Island. The last line in the song was, “Wouldn’t it be great if it was like this all the time?” and we agreed. He played it again. None of us wanted the day to end.

We got near the house and Franklin asked us “Where to?”

“Drop us off at the Wappoo Cut, please,” I said.

“You sure? How are you going to get home?”

“We can walk. It’s not that far.”

“Wappoo Cut,” Sally said to confirm. She liked the idea too.

He dropped us off, ensuring he didn’t need to come back for us later. We thanked him and Karen for a great time and I told him I’d call him later, when I got home.

Sally and I walked over to what had become our picnic table and settled in to watch the late afternoon activities. There was a steady stream of boats returning and a few going out. It was cool but sunny and everyone seemed to be enjoying the day. We were.

“Let’s help,” I suggested. Sally didn’t understand. “Let’s go help people bring their boats in. Some people don’t need help but some do. I don’t want to just watch. I want to be part of it.”

She liked that and agreed so we walked to the end of the dock. I caught ropes and tied boats off and we helped people unload if they needed it. No one turned down our help. We had fun and got to see a bunch of different kinds of boats and people.

There was a lull in what had been a steady stream of boats so we returned to our table. We watched a great blue heron, stalking fish in the shallows for a while and were rewarded with a flurry of feathers as he snatched his late lunch. He choked it down head first and continued fishing. We really wanted the dolphins to come back but they weren’t around. That was about the only disappointing thing all day.

A pair of terns appeared and we watched them circle the cut from fifty feet up. One of them would spot a fish near the surface and dive bomb. “Fast food,” Sally said and I agreed.

“Wouldn’t it be great if it was like this all the time?” I asked and Sally kissed me. We kissed for a long time. Lots of times our kisses would be pretty sexual but this was just love. We didn’t talk and Sally didn’t cry. It was just nice and Van Morison had captured a truth about simple pleasures.

We waited but our dolphins never showed. When it got cool and a breeze came up, we started walking home.

Folly Road was normally loud with traffic but that afternoon it wasn’t too busy so even that part of the walk wasn’t bad. I remembered to do the gentlemanly thing and move to the outside, nearest the street. We tried to remember the names of upcoming cross streets as we walked. We could remember Nashmor and Johnson Road but Broughton eluded us. My house was closer but we walked to Sally’s first. It was close to dinner time, breezy and getting colder by the minute. As much as we wanted to spend every available minute together, we were about done for the day.

“I think I’m going to have a tiny dinner and then go to bed,” Sally said. “I’m beat.”

“Me too. But I think Mom was making a chocolate cake for dessert so that’s good.”

She started to shove me, laughing that I would sound interested in chocolate. Before she finished the shove, she grabbed me and pulled me to her. We kissed lightly and I left. We had filled the day in a wonderful way and I really was beat. It wasn’t all the walking at Hunting or home from the cut. It wasn’t all the time sitting in the car or at our picnic bench. It was the emotional drain of it. A tiny part of me would be happy when she left so that my emotions could take a break. At least that’s what I thought.

At dinner, I told Mom about the day and how drained I was and why. Then I told her about that part of me that would be glad when she was gone.

“Tis better to have loved and lost,” she said.

“Than never to have loved at all,” I finished. “You know, just because Tennyson said it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“But isn’t it?”

“I’ll tell you in a week. Sally flies out next Saturday. Nashville bound.”

“That was a Gilbert and Sullivan musical, I think. Nashville bound. No. Memphis Bound.”

“I don’t think I want to know about it,” I said and excused myself.

I went to my room, read for probably five minutes and fell asleep with my clothes on.

Monday through Thursday was a bit of a blur. We didn’t work out all week. Sally and I spent our afternoons at the Wappoo Cut, watching people come and go. We didn’t talk very much. We had nothing more to say. My schoolwork suffered; I couldn’t read. I read; I just couldn’t remember what I’d read. I know I didn’t eat much. There was a swim meet on Friday afternoon but there was no way I was going to compete. I hadn’t earned a spot, and even if I had, my heart wouldn’t have been in it. Sally would leave on Saturday morning and I wasn’t going to spend my afternoon watching seniors compete. I let the coach know and he understood and gave me permission to skip the meet. I think he knew I wasn’t going to be there anyway.

On Thursday evening, Mom told me she wouldn’t be picking us up Friday afternoon. She was driving up to Myrtle Beach with Veronica to a European style Christmas market. She’d been to the Christmas Market in Munich years before and loved it. She was practically giddy. I didn’t share the enthusiasm. I had plans for Christmas gifts for Franklin, Karen and Mom but Sally would be gone and that’s who I really wanted to shop for. I was about to ask if I could go with them but bit back the words.

In an instant, my Friday plans became clear as a bell. I finished dinner, cleaned my plate and put the food away. I tried to keep a normal pace but it was tough. Finally, I excused myself and went toward my room. I turned left into a guest room and called Sally.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” she said.

“You’re ditching school tomorrow.”

“I can’t. It’s my last day.”

“Okay. If you say so. But Mom will be gone all day and I thought you might let me give you something to remember me by.”

“What?”

“Last chance. I thought I would make you feel really good before you go.”

“Oh, my god. No. That’s the last thing I need, Jack. It’s going to be difficult enough as it is,” she said and I let the silence hang in the air. “When is she leaving?”

That was more like it. “Noon, I think. She won’t be home until late. I have a hunch they’re going to spend the night. It’s a three-hour drive. If they leave here at noon, they’ll get there at three or so. If they shop until six, they’ll have dinner until seven. At dinner, they’ll talk about all the shops they want to go back to and it will be nine or later until they’re done. A couple of glasses of wine at dinner or something like that, and they’ll be done for the day. That’s my guess. At the worst, they’ll be home around ten.”

“Okay. Oh, my god. I’m practically shaking. It’s been a couple of weeks.”

“It has. I miss you. I want to eat you up.”

“Oh, god. This is not a good idea. It’s going to make it even more difficult to leave and I’ve been working to avoid that.” I waited through the silence again. “Okay. So, what’s your plan?”

I mulled it over a moment to make sure. “Go to school like normal. Get yourself a dinner excuse or something. Last chance with a girlfriend or something. Tell your parents that before you leave in the morning. I’ll have a taxi waiting for you at the school at noon.”

“A taxi? Okay, okay, okay. Oh, my gosh. Okay. I’ll call someone to be an excuse for me. But I have to get a bunch of stuff done tonight so they won’t worry about me not being ready. Lunch starts at noon and I’ll be at the front. Oh. Oh, I can’t wait.”

“Sally, do you remember how much chocolate I ate last Saturday?”

“A lot. Just like the rest of us.”

“I’m going to eat that much Sally tomorrow.”

“I have to hang up. You’re driving me crazy.”

“You’re going to...”

“Yes. Right now. Bye,” she said and hung up. Good. I knew she’d be thinking about me.

I was up early Friday morning and found the phone numbers to a couple of taxi companies. I wrote the numbers down and put the phone book back in the kitchen. I went to the guest room and called one and asked for a cab to be at Porter-Gaud at ten and another at St. John’s at noon, then went to school like normal. I’m not sure why I bothered. My mind was on the afternoon, planning. I skipped out before third period. I was practically shaking as I walked out, expecting someone to stop me. Nobody said a word. I wouldn’t have cared if they did. I walked right out the front door of the school and got in the taxi right at ten. I’d never done that before. I’d never ditched school and I’d never taken a taxi by myself. It was easy. I gave directions to a pizza place near Bad Kitty because I was embarrassed by where I was really going.

I paid the driver and walked the block from the pizza place and cautiously stepped into Bad Kitty. At just after ten in the morning, it was deserted. The only person inside was a pretty girl who was probably twenty. She was cute. I walked up and down the aisles but couldn’t find anything helpful. Actually, it all looked helpful, and a bit mysterious, but not the kind of helpful I’d been hoping for. I took a deep breath and walked up to the counter.

“I could use some help,” I said, trying to sound older than I was. I must have sounded pathetic.

“Could you?” she asked with a sort of mischievous smile on her face. She knew I was too young to be in the store.

“Yes. I need some advice. I bought a video a couple of weeks ago and it really helped but...”

“What video?”

“It was called ‘How to Please a Woman.”

“And did you?”

“Did I what?” I asked and that smile was back. “Yes. Wow. Yes. That stuff really worked.”

“I bet. Pretty fun, huh, Tiger.”

“Yes, ma’am. And now, I need some more of that kind of advice but I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Alright,” she said, leaning forward and resting her arms on the counter. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on and maybe I can help you.”

Her name was Cheryl. I told her the whole story and what we had done and how Sally had responded and all that. Surprisingly, it wasn’t embarrassing at all. She was an enthusiastic and encouraging listener. Mom always encouraged me to listen like that. I was definitely glad to be the only other person in the store.

“Well, Tiger, it sounds like you’re off to a really good start. You really did all that?” I nodded. “How old are you?” I told her the truth. “Damn. I wish my first time had been with someone considerate. Lucky Sally. Okay, I’m not an expert but I can tell you what I like and give you some advice. No promises.” I agreed.

For the next thirty minutes or so, she explained exactly what she liked. It was so hot and by the time she got done I was stiff as a board. I hung on every word. She seemed to feed off my interest and was so excited to tell me that I got wound up just listening to her.

“That’s it. I could talk a lot longer but if you want to please her, those tips might help. You have to make me a promise though.”

“Anything. This was great. Super helpful. Anything. Just say what,” I offered, without really thinking what that might mean.