Chapter 8: Fireworks

Monday, July 4, 1983

Someone had put up a giant American Flag in the lobby. Seemed fitting to me.

I’d worn a red shirt, blue jeans, and white shoes. That was the best I could do for red, white, and blue on this trip. I hadn’t brought anything overly patriotic with me.

We met at the cafeteria at nine. Angie and Paige let it be known that they’d had a great time at the apartment. Jas let it be known that we were heading there in the early afternoon. Cammie, in turn, let it be known that she really, really wished Mel could come up and visit.

Not now, but I knew the two of them were counting down the days until they could get a place together. Still a year to go, and then college, and ... well. Statistics. But then ... statistics be damned. All of us had made it this long, and we were all hoping we’d keep right on with it, them very much included.

We split up after breakfast. Jas had a couple of things to do, and so did the others. I headed back to Elder for a bit, with plans to meet for lunch. Then ... dessert.

As we were walking to the apartment after lunch, Jas looked over at me and grinned.

“So...” she said, “I talked to your shrink this morning. She told me to ask you to call her, by the way.”

“Will do.”

“She’s very nice, and she cares about you deeply. That came through strongly. She also completely believes you and Angie, which ... well. I did, too. I really did. But hearing someone else tell me you predicted things you couldn’t have known means something. I mean, you could have gotten her to lie, but ... no. Everything fits, and nothing doesn’t fit. I mean, except for it being fundamentally nuts, but crazy things happen. Prom is proof of that.”

I nodded. “I could almost claim that I thought I was crazy at first, but I knew I wasn’t.”

“How did you know? I mean, compared to thinking it was some bizarre head-injury dream?”

“Calculus.”

“Huh?”

“I knew how to do calculus. Fourteen-year-old Steve did not know calculus, and head-injury dreams don’t teach you how to do advanced math.”

She started to chuckle, then broke into a full-blown laugh that mercifully stopped short of hysterics. Once she caught her breath, she said, “That ... that’s hilarious! I mean, I completely agree, but... calculus! Of all the things...”

“I had to focus on something I couldn’t have known if it was just some dream. Even then, when the first things that I knew were going to happen, happened, it really helped. I guess maybe the first was seeing ‘Airplane!’ How could I have known the whole movie without it all being real?”

“That’s funny, too. You saw that with Angie, right?”

I nodded. “In a way ... and I mean, in a real way ... it was the first date either of us had in this life. Oh, we were pretty serious about being brother and sister, but we treated it like a date. A practice date, I guess. The funny thing, of course, is that I was trying to make sure she didn’t realize that I’d seen it before, and she was trying to make sure I didn’t realize that she’d seen it before.”

She nodded, smiling, then said, “I keep going back to the basic thing that you’re... you ... and I love you, and I don’t love you less because you have kids that are older than ... you — which sounds insane, I know! — or because you’re technically divorced, or ... whatever.”

“Believe me, we get into some really awkward phrasings sometimes. I mean, the last time I saw a game at Wrigley Field was thirty years ago. Not many other seventeen-year-olds could say that. Nor that this was the second time they saw the same game live.”

“Jane told me you’d make my head hurt occasionally.”

“It happens.” I smiled, then hugged her. “The other thing you said ... that could matter.”

“What? Oh ... the divorced part?”

“Yeah.”

“Jane and I talked about that a little. She says you’re doing better.”

I blew out a breath. “Jas ... it was a horrible marriage. We fucked up. I fucked up. I hoped she’d get over being ... I don’t know. Crazy, but that’s just a pejorative. Insecure, controlling, mercurial, selfish, egocentric ... all that. I did what she said she wanted, but then I kept finding myself getting excoriated for doing something she’d asked me to do.”

“I’m hearing that you still have issues,” she said, chuckling a bit.

“Only with who I was then, I think. I’m not the same person at all, now. I wouldn’t do that now. And you’re so very, very much not my ex-wife. I don’t feel like I’ve really ever brought those scars into our relationship, but they’re there.”

She nodded. “I can’t see anything that feels like that. I’ll tell you if I think you are. It’s ... I feel a lot better knowing it.”

“Thanks, honey. I can tell you something funny, now, I think.”

“What’s that?”

“Back when Blue was involving herself in things...”

Jas tensed up just a little. Still a sore spot, perhaps.

I said, “Relax. I find the whole thing amusing now, nothing more. We learned a lot from it that we wouldn’t have learned if it hadn’t happened.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” she said, smiling again.

“I do. Seriously, if Blue is the worst thing life throws at us, we’re set.”

“Now that’s something I can get behind!”

“Anyway,” I said, “When she was, I had the briefest worry that, somehow, my ex-wife had decided to call herself Blue and had wound up at USC. None of that made sense. She wasn’t into Drama, she’s older than we are, all of that. Still ... she’s from the right high school. But then I heard her whole name, and her voice, and ... nope. Not the same. She — my ex-wife — is out there, somewhere, probably anyway, but I imagine she’s just ... who she should be. I’m wishing her well and staying the hell away!”

Jas smiled. “I like that, now. It’s funny, thinking about it. And ... I agree. Stay away!”

“There are a few people I’ll keep at arm’s length, or more. She’s the biggest of the bunch.”

We needed to buy a change of sheets. That was one thing I’d forgotten to do, and ... no condom means messy sheets. It just does. Especially if you go for repeat performances.

You can try to avoid it, but ... nope.

Fortunately, sheets were readily available within walking distance and without risking overly pissing off the Northwestern people. We could even explain having them. Mikayla had a twin bed, and the dorm beds were twins, too. Quite a few people had brought, or bought, their own sheets, just to have a second set. Or a better set. I’d been meaning to do that, too.

Jas was quite happy with that plan since she didn’t like her dorm sheets either. At the risk of potentially annoying Angie and Paige (or us, even), we decided not to go sheet-shopping today, because Angie, Paige, and Cammie might want to come with us or at least place orders.

After we’d finished in bed, and snuggled, we decided to walk to the Student Center so that I could call Jane tonight. During the walk, I got some more insight into what the Drama classes were like, and she got some more insight into what Cammie and I were up to. It was clear that she was at least considering the idea of ‘fixing me up’ with someone. Shades of last summer, except ... not. Totally different, with Jasmine here, and no one in the picture the way Jess had been.

Jas and I crowded into the booth so she could hear the call. The others were supposed to meet us here, but not for a bit yet. If they were here, we hadn’t seen them.

This time Jane answered when I called her house.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jane!”

“Steve! I was hoping you’d call! How are things?”

“I’m at the Student Center with Jasmine, and we’re both perhaps slightly winded, still.”

I heard Jas snort, then giggle.

“Just the sort of answer I’d expect,” she said. I could hear her rolling her eyes at me.

“Seriously, things are good. Jas and I have talked quite a bit, and things are good. We talked a bunch about my being a seventeen-year-old divorced guy coming off a quarter-century marriage. That’s always a straightforward conversation.”

“I warned her you and Angie caused headaches!”

“She mentioned that.”

“Any news on Miss Waters?”

“Slightly. She’s been keeping her distance, and refusing to talk. I’m not going to make a point of it until Wednesday. Then I’ll politely suggest maybe we should talk, and try setting a deadline of Sunday. It’s not like I can do anything if she won’t, but this can’t drag on all summer.”

“In a way, I’m surprised she hasn’t just given up and gone home.”

“It’d be hard to explain, I’m sure. Plus, she came here for a reason, and it wasn’t to meet me. That, and I know where she lives, in general. She has to know I wouldn’t just let it go indefinitely, not with the stakes as high as they are.”

“True. Anything else pressing?”

“Nope. Nor with Angie, as far as I know. She and Paige are doing great. So’s Cammie, for that matter.”

“Any plans?”

“We’re getting together this afternoon to watch the Evanston fireworks. There’ll be a radio simulcast and ... well ... damn. I hope someone has a radio.”

She laughed. “Usually where there’s a crowd, some people will.”

“That’s what I expect. There was an amazing fireworks show in... 1986, I think ... in downtown Houston, and dozens of people had radios.”

“And my head hurts.”

Jas must have read her mind because she put her hand to her head and made a face. A very cute face, though.

“Anyway, if not, we can buy a radio. Well ... no. We can’t. Nothing will be open.”

“True.”

“We’ll go out for dinner, though. Restaurants are open.”

“Enjoy.”

I looked at Jas. “Do you want to talk to Jasmine?”

“If she’d like to.”

“Want to talk to Jane?” I said.

She nodded.

“I’m going to go off to the restroom. I think you two need a bit of privacy.”

“That’s okay. I heard your call...”

“Yes, but I’m not the one for whom this is still very new.”

“True.”

We kissed, and I went out of the booth. I did visit the restroom, but then settled outside the booth, waiting until Jas waved me over. About ten minutes later, she did. I headed back and into the booth.

“She wants to say goodbye.”

“Thanks, honey!”

I picked up the phone.

“Jane?”

“Hi, Steve. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye! I have a feeling we’ll talk sooner rather than later, the way things are going.”

“I’m betting on that. Even if it’s a work day, leave a message and I’ll call back as soon as I possibly can. I know you can’t just sit by the phone, but I can call your dorm and give you a good time to call.”

“That works. Thanks!”

“Talk to you soon.”

“You, too!”

Since we were at the phones anyway, I called Mom and Dad and wished them a happy Fourth. Jas called her parents and talked a bit, too.

By the time we got off the phone, Angie, Paige, and Cammie were hanging out nearby, waiting for us.

“Just to warn you,” I said, giving Angie a hug, “Messy sheets.”

Paige wrinkled her nose.

Cammie said, “You know ... I really don’t even want to think about what caused that.”

“Sorry,” I said, perhaps not completely meaning it. I knew Cammie was at least (and, at most, too) curious about that, but Paige wasn’t in on that, and that was Cammie’s secret.

“Anyway, we need to get more, and I figured you all might want some for your dorm rooms.”

“Me, me, me!” Cammie said, waving her hand.

All the girls agreed, so we made a plan to go sheet-shopping sometime soon. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps not. Wednesday was out, but the weekend might work.

Since it was a favorite, Giordano’s got our business again. I could claim I’d get fat on this, but I was walking a lot. Perhaps I should pick up jogging again, though. It really couldn’t hurt.

After dinner, we went to the Evanston beach and settled in with the large crowd already there. They had speakers set up to play the music.

We just hung out and talked until it got dark. The fireworks show itself was ... fine. I’d seen far better, but I’d seen far worse, too.

The whole thing got me just slightly melancholy, but ... I think ... in a good way. My ex-wife had always loved fireworks. They were one of the things that would almost always put her in a good mood. Aside from fights over where to go to watch fireworks (and I could think of a dozen of those), we’d never fought about watching them, or during watching them, or anything like that, and she’d always been happy afterward.

I hoped that, if she was out there, living her life, in my old universe, that somehow she’d found a way to be happy, or at least finally was at peace with herself. And I hoped, whenever Fourth of July was there, that she’d go see some fireworks and enjoy the evening. Maybe our kids would join her (and, if so, hopefully she wouldn’t get mad at them, either).

In so many ways, I really couldn’t stand her, and the idea of living with her again was ... insane. But I could still want the best for her, and I did. I think it helped that the chances that I would ever see her again were beyond remote.

We didn’t linger all that long. The wind off the lake was cool and getting colder by the end of the show, and the girls were all shivering just a little.

I walked them back to their dorm, parted with hugs and kisses, then headed back to my dorm. Tomorrow was a regular class day and we’d meet at eight for breakfast.

When I walked into the dorm, I glanced at the message board and saw a slip saying ‘Marshall, Steve’. I headed over and took it off the pin, then read it. It was a phone slip, saying that my Dad had left a message, and giving the home phone as a call-back number.

There was, of course, no way that I would call this late, but I didn’t have to. The message was extremely concise.