Chapter 119: Divergence Small and Not-So-Small

Monday, April 23, 1984

We were, of course, featured on the morning announcements. My first period class applauded — fairly vigorously, too. We just waved and smiled. Not much else to do but to be graceful winners.

I received congratulations all day long. The most amusing part was watching the reaction to Jess. Comparatively few people had actually known that Jess was even in Drama, much less a serious competitor. Outside of our circles, the cheerleaders had, but that might have been it. Now, people who had no idea that she was in Drama were abruptly aware that she was now a State runner-up.

If her movie career took off, I fully expected many of those people to have ‘I knew her way back when!’ stories. Some of them would even be true.

Some of them.

I had two exams Monday: English (slightly interrupted by the announcements) and Calculus. Both went fine, and we’d all get through all of our exams before we had to head off to Kentucky.

That is, unless someone spiked the lockers again. One had to take such things into consideration.

The amount of damage that could be done was rapidly dropping. That was good news, at least.

Steffie gave us five minutes to celebrate, then pushed us to get back to work on the musical. In truth, we really did need to focus. Having done this long enough, I could now see that we were going to get through this, and it would be up to our standard.

That said, if we just sat on our asses right now, it wouldn’t be up to our standard at all. We had all of the time we needed, but we didn’t have a lot more time than that.

Debate, of course, was just plain a celebration. Steffie let those of us doing both have ten whole minutes, then made Meg send us back over.

Party pooper!

Along the way, I was able to reconfirm with Jess that we were still on track for dating, but neither of us saw it happening before the musical.

And with Sam, that we were still on track for ... something. Quite possibly involving a bed. Sooner than later, but almost certainly not before the musical.

Given the delayed birthday plans, there was no way I was going to sit through a Student Council meeting. Since my Vice President was also the President-Elect, though, I felt very comfortable leaving things in her hands.

I’d make the May meeting, of course. If this was the last meeting, I’d have changed plans.

But it wasn’t, and I had somewhere else to be.

My belated birthday dinner turned out to be what I really wanted it to be (a nice dinner with my family) and also a major production — but not the kind of major production I’d dreaded, thankfully. I’d made Jasmine’s a major production, of course, but that was different in many ways. Mine was a very different sort.

Mom, Dad, Angie, and I went out to dinner at Brennerman’s, just as we had before. Jasmine joined us, pretty much as expected. It’d be hard to imagine her not coming along.

The Seilers were a bit more complicated. They didn’t join us, per se, but they did have Paige’s eighteenth birthday at Brennerman’s, which let Angie and Paige table-hop.

We had one more person celebrating a birthday with us. Penelope and David had decided to take Cammie to Brennerman’s, too — along with Mel. A surprise anonymous gift of a $50 Brennerman’s gift certificate perhaps helped with that. To be clear, I didn’t gift it, but I had a guess as to who did, and she was here tonight.

Apparently, having crossed Cammie’s parents already, they figured it couldn’t get worse. I hoped they were right. They seemed like nice, and decent, people who really wanted to do the right thing by Cammie. I wouldn’t agree with them about many things, but I didn’t have to. They had a right to live their own life and have their own beliefs.

Cammie table-hopped the whole time, of course. That was part of the plan. She couldn’t have her birthday dinner with the people who, in a better world, should have been the ones most proud of her, but she could have her birthday dinner with people who loved her — loved her for who she was.

I gave Penelope and David credit for that, too. Oh, they didn’t approve of her sexuality. No one was pretending that they did. Still, they loved her — loved her enough to stand with Cammie and against her parents, and enough to invite Mel to join Cammie for her birthday dinner.

It’s easy to be ‘tolerant’ when you don’t even believe there’s anything that requires ‘tolerating.’ When you’re an ally, of course you’re also ‘tolerant.’ It’s when you fundamentally disagree, and yet can truly ‘hate the sin, love the sinner’ that you’re at your most ‘tolerant.’

About halfway through dinner, and just after Jasmine had scooted over to join Paige for a few minutes, Dad cleared his throat. I’d known this was coming, and had no idea what else might be coming, but that was fine. I suspected Jasmine’s move might not have been a coincidence, though.

“First,” he said, “We’re not welcoming you to adulthood, Steve. Nor will we be welcoming you in June, Angie. You’ve both been adults for some time. You know that, we know that, and you’ve known we know it.”

I nodded, smiling. So did Angie.

“Society needs an age, so they can welcome you to adulthood,” Mom said.

Dad grinned. “Exactly! Anyway, we thought we didn’t have anything to give you this year, considering how the past few years have gone...”

Mom nodded.

“But ... we were wrong. Each of your gifts has been to give you credit for being a mature person. Cars gave you both freedom and responsibility, freedom that you used well — and maturely! — and responsibility that you’ve unfailingly lived up to. Freedom to travel, freedom to make your own schedules, to be treated as the adults you are. What more could we give you, except for some things — things that you could purchase yourself?”

Mom kept nodding.

“But, then ... we watched how you handled Cammie’s situation.”

He and Mom both nodded to her. She was in animated — and clearly happy — conversation with Penelope at the moment.

“Neither of us can believe that her parents could ... or would... do that!”

Mom said, softly, “No matter how much or how little we approved of anything, it’s always been your life. We will never hold back from telling you what we think is right, but you should live your life the way you feel you should.”

Dad nodded, leaned over and hugged Mom warmly, then said, “Once upon a time, we thought that our rules would be set until marriage. That’s how most people did it, and we very much believe in marriage, as you know.”

Angie started to say something — or just shifted — and Mom made a slight shushing motion. She was smiling, though.

“We mean it to include you, honey,” Dad said.

Angie smiled back, shaking her head a little. I thought her point had been something else entirely, and it was where Mom went next.

“The thing is, we know you believe in marriage, too,” Mom said. “We can say that you’re too young — and, before you want to jump in, we know you believe that, too. Still ... Jasmine and Paige are wonderful, and they feel like part of the family already. That’ll just grow, or at least we all think and hope that it will. We’ve talked about it, and there’s a point where you know what’s meant to be. That doesn’t mean things can’t change, but ... well. You know what we mean.”

Dad said, “Not that we think anything will change, but things can always change. But if you make decisions based on that, you’ll never do anything.”

“In any case ... and you know we always wind up giving you the same things,” Mom said, “A weekend ago was maybe a ... preview. Not a test.”

She paused. “Okay, maybe a test.”

She chuckled a bit, which got the rest of us chuckling a bit, too.

“What I mean is that it was a test for us. We had to try it and see how we felt, and ... we felt fine,” she said. “Good, even! Neither of us were upset in the morning, which just confirmed that our feelings were right. So ... Jasmine and Paige will always be welcome to stay at our house, with you, in your rooms. You’re adults, and you can make adult decisions. We aren’t going to second-guess that. Whatever it means for them to stay with you, they’re welcome.”

Dad said, “In the spirit of saying things change: if something did change, we would respect that for anyone new, simply because it wouldn’t be fair or right to say that we respected Jasmine or Paige but not ... whoever. But ... selfishly ... we hope things don’t change.”

He had a bit of a grin after that.

“We very much hope things don’t change!” Mom said.

I smiled. “This means a lot to me, and I’m sure you know that.”

“And a lot to me, too!” Angie said.

“It means a lot to me to be able to offer it,” Mom said. “If I’d been in charge, so many of the decisions you’ve made would have been different. The thing is: I have to admit to myself that, if Ma had been in charge, many of the big decisions in my life would have been different, and they would’ve been worse for me. Ma wouldn’t have meant that at all — her only interest would’ve been doing what she thought was best for me — but she would’ve been wrong. I’d have been with a different boy, not working. I never would’ve met Sam, which means I never would’ve met either of you. Perhaps it would have been a good life, but it wouldn’t have been this life, and I think this is the best life for me.”

“Definitely the best for me!” Dad said.

“And for us,” Angie and I said, almost in unison.

“And ... I think you’ve managed your lives much better for you than I ever could have,” she said. “The proof is all around us.”

Mom stopped, then sniffled a bit, which I thought at first was tied to what she’d just said. It wasn’t, though.

After a little pause, she said, “You really are an adult now. I mean ... both of you are. It’s ... it’s going to be hard letting go. It feels ... it feels like it all went by in a blink of an eye. Everything’s ... just... different now.”

I got up, went around, and wrapped Mom up in a big hug. She hugged right back, and tightly. Angie joined us after a second, but let me take the lead in talking.

“Mom?” I said, softly.

“Son?”

“Think about your relationship with your mother. Obviously, distance matters, but isn’t your adult relationship rich and important? Sometimes in ways that your relationship as a child really wasn’t?”

She blinked a bit. “That’s ... yes! And ... it is for her, too! I know it is!”

“It’s a milestone in my life,” I said. “I’m different legally. I’m not a different person, though, and it doesn’t change what’s important to me. You and Dad will always be important to me. Always, always, always.”