Chapter 89: Love and Money

Sunday, February 12, 1984

As soon as we got home from church, Angie and I took off for Jasmine’s house in separate cars. She picked up Paige, while I headed directly for Jasmine’s, with both a small box (No, not that! Much too early!) tucked into a pocket and a bigger box in the seat next to me.

I parked out front, planning to wait for Ang and Paige, but the door opened and Jasmine came out, so that took care of that. I got the box, got out of the car, came around it, and set the box on the car right before Jasmine met me with a hug that might have done Cal some credit as a tackle.

“Happy Birthday, my love,” I said.

“Ooh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Jas said, then kissed me in a way that would have absolutely gotten me a talk with a principal, even with my reputation and the accompanying relative laxness of enforcement.

“There’ll be time for that later!” Camille called from the front door.

“No time like the present!” Jas said, kissing me again.

After that kiss, she said, “And ... speaking of presents...”

I handed her the box. “Happy Birthday!”

She shook it just a bit. “I ... have no idea. Heavy, though!”

“I think you’ll like it, but we’ll see.”

“It’s from you! No way will I not like it!”

We started to walk in, holding hands, when Angie drove up and parked right behind me. Jas dropped my hand to hug Paige, then Angie, as they both wished her a happy birthday. Both of them had boxes of their own. She took my hand again once she’d hugged them and we went in, with Angie carrying my gift this time.

Camille gave each of us hugs and kisses on the cheek. Francis got hugged by all of the girls. By the time he’d gotten to me, he just shrugged and smiled, and we hugged, too.

Lunch was fun. Camille had made Beef Bourguignon and fresh-baked bread. In one sense, simple; in another, rich and full of flavor (both the beef and the bread). With this, of course, we had a Burgundy, one that I’d never had but that complemented the dish perfectly. No surprise there. None of us were wine connoisseurs (and I might never be — but, then, stranger things have happened!), but I loved the pairing.

Of course, the conversation was lively and focused mostly on what it felt like to finally reach adulthood, Jasmine’s hopes and dreams, and so forth, but it was just as much about the rest of us and about life in general. There are only so many birthday-related topics, and Camille and Francis can’t have been surprised by any of Jasmine’s answers, not as close as they were.

We had to rush a little, since we were still going to Study Group (stupid school, putting exams during Valentine’s week!), but it was well worth it.

After we’d finished, and before the cake, Jas opened her presents. She had a new burgundy and gold ao dai that was perfectly suited to A&M, new shoes to go with it, new running shoes as well, and a couple of simple but elegant blouses. Paige brought her a gold purse that was stunning and would go perfectly with either ao dai, while Angie brought her a somewhat larger day-to-day purse with a few extras (like a cut-proof strap and a pocket to keep ‘bear spray’ out of sight but easily at hand). She was covered for day-to-day life and formal occasions.

My box went last, by popular consensus. Jasmine opened it to find a wooden box.

“This is nice,” she said. “Jewelry box?”

“Open it, honey,” Camille said.

Jasmine opened it, to find that it was a revolving photo album. She blushed, seeing photo after photo of her, of us, of her with Angie or Paige or Carole or many other friends. There were photos from tournaments, dances, school, Study Group, and trips.

Jasmine and Camille both got a few tears in their eyes.

“This ... this is ... how did you...?” Jasmine said.

“I’ve been talking to people for a while,” I said, “getting copies of photos made.”

“You all knew!” she said, looking at Angie and Paige.

“Of course, we knew!” Paige said. “You couldn’t know, though.”

“This is amazing!” Camille said. “I can’t believe it! So many of these are new to me!”

“I might have gotten you and Francis an early Christmas present,” I said, “or maybe a late one, depending.”

“You didn’t!” Camille said.

“It’s in the car. I didn’t wrap the second one, since you’d know what it was, and there’s no reason making you wait a long time for it.”

“Thank you so much!” Camille said.

Jasmine was still flipping through it. “It’s amazing! I just ... I can’t ... it’s ... and one for Mama...”

She set it aside and then flung herself into my arms. “I love you so much!”

“I love you, too, honey.”

“You really raised the bar! I need to do some serious thinking!”

“Jas ... I’m the guy here, remember. Having you in my life is the best present ever. Not that I mind other things, but just know that.”

Francis blushed slightly at that, but smiled and nodded. He leaned over and wrapped Camille up in his arms, then said, “Truer words were never spoken.”

Jasmine hesitated, then grinned just a bit.

“I’ll remember that, and I’ll also remember that you don’t mind other things,” she said with a wink.

“Truer words...” Camille said, chuckling.

“Which of us is ‘the guy?’” Paige said.

Angie giggled. “Both or neither. We get to pick, and it can change day to day.”

“That means presents,” Paige said.

“Always!” Angie said.

The two of them hugged, and everyone else chuckled, the spell broken in the best of ways.

We got to Study Group just a few minutes late. Fortunately, it was a nice cool February day. That had allowed me to keep Jasmine’s second cake in the trunk, which meant we hadn’t had to run by the house to get it.

Everyone enjoyed the cake, though Jas and I ate sparingly. Between Camille’s lunch and the planned dinner, we didn’t need a lot of cake this afternoon.

Aside from the cake, and associated festivities and birthday wishes, Study Group was all business. I had a suspicion this might be the most ‘all business’ we’d be this entire semester. None of our other exam weeks had a holiday (Valentine’s Day counts!) in the middle (much less on the other Study Group day!), and by the time we got to finals, most of us would just want everything to be over.

We all did our best to make sure that no one would be upset, or miss out, if Tuesday’s meeting was abbreviated. Jas and I, in particular, had a lot to pack into this week, but everyone else was busy, too.

I stepped out of Study Group for about five minutes halfway through. As far as I could tell, Jas didn’t miss me, which is good, since it concerned her (of course).

Jas and I headed off to Brennerman’s a few minutes before Study Group would ‘officially’ end. I suspected some people would stay late. I also knew that Jas and I were in very good shape for exams. Both of us were on the lighter end of the class load, really, thanks to Drama and Debate.

“So,” Jas said as we got going, “how does it feel going out to dinner with an older woman? I know it’s not new for you, but it’s sort-of new for me!”

I grinned. “It’s special because of who the older woman is, not the age.”

That got an “Aww!” from Jas.

I continued, saying, “I’m glad Texas doesn’t have some idiotic law that would make you a criminal for being with me, though!”

“Ugh! That would be stupid!”

“It used to happen. Legal until someone turned 18, then it was ‘sex with a minor’ until the other person got there.”

“So dumb!” she said, making a face.

“How do you feel?” I said.

“Very happy! I know it’s just a number, and all I had to do was stay alive to get there, but it feels like an accomplishment.”

“Do you mind if I say something that might feel uncomfortable?”

“It’ll be relating to your kids, I bet?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s fine. It’s like you said about questions. There aren’t unfair questions, and there aren’t unfair comments. You had kids, and they were older than me, so whether or not they’re older now, it’s not like you didn’t have the experience.”

“Thanks! So ... the thing is, I think you’re more ready to be eighteen than either of my kids were, but that’s because you know you are. The world had changed a lot. Right now, kids want to be adults, and I mean really all the way. By 2021, we had plenty of people over eighteen — some well over eighteen — say they were ‘adult-ish.’ Or that they were ‘pretending to adult’ — yes, using the word as a verb. Society was different, and I think it might have been harder to be an adult in 2021, maybe, but the point is that you’re ready to be at least what you said — a college adult, still transitioning but running your own life.”

“I don’t know if I’d be ready if not for you, really,” she said.

“You would.”

“You sound really sure,” she said, grinning.

“I look at people like Mikayla, or Carole, or a bunch of others. You’re more mature than they are, and I think you would have been without me. Differently, but still. You’d be fine. Believe me, it’s fine to be nervous. I was, when I hit the magic 18, but it’s really just how you approach it, and you would approach it the right way.”

“I feel like we can do anything together,” she said. “On the other hand, a lot of things, like buying a house, I’d never have wanted to tackle without you there.”

“Very few college kids do,” I said. “That’s why there are dorms, or apartments tailored to college students. Most kids aren’t ready to do the heavy lifting on things like that, either.”

“But I’m going to be signing house-buying papers in two weeks! That’s crazy!”

“I’ll be there, and my lawyer and Maxine will have read them.”

“I’m not worried so much as I’m amazed!” she said. “Having a house is thrilling! It feels like a dream. A lot of this does. I definitely don’t want to wake up, though!”

“Nor do I. Not except waking up with you next to me. That’s always good.”

“I seriously can’t wait! I mean, I’ll make it to May, that’s fine, but I’ll savor every trip along the way. Well, the ones where we get to sleep together. They won’t let us sleep together in Lexington. Which also doesn’t feel like it’s less than a week away!”

“Yeah. This is a crazy week,” I said.

I pulled into Brennerman’s parking lot, parked, and walked Jas in on my arm. The hostess led us to a table by their big window.

“You must have paid extra!” Jas joked as I helped her with her chair.

“If we’d come two days from now, I would have! Today’s special for us, not everyone else.”

She chuckled. “We need a ‘Jasmine’s Birthday’ national holiday.”

“Maybe one day.”

“Nah. Definitely joking there! I’m completely on board with making our own history, but that’s a bit much.”

Our waitress came over, and we busied ourselves with ordering dinner. Jas ordered wine (a sweet white), and wasn’t carded. We wound up with crab cakes and Parmesan-crusted chicken, which we shared.

We talked about the rest of the year throughout dinner. As with many things, it simultaneously felt like the clock had sped up and was creeping along. Three and a half months and high school would be over, but that was also ‘three and a half months!’

In that time, we would (at least): buy a house and start renovating that house, get the LLCs actually going, (hopefully) invest in a future major corporation, invest in a number of other corporations, go to two out-of-town regular tournaments, plus State, plus ToC, go to three dances, do something for Spring Break, rehearse and perform ‘Bye Bye Birdie’, take a bunch of tests and finals, and graduate. We would be out of town at least six weekends and almost certainly seven or eight, maybe more. Two of us (Paige and I) would turn eighteen.

In a lot of ways, this might be the busiest stretch I’d had at any time in two lives. Adopting the kids probably came close, but that was a very different sort of ‘busy.’

It was going to be a whirlwind, and neither of us could wait. That Jasmine was champing at the bit to do the hard stuff, not just the fun stuff, told me more about her being ready to be an adult than anything else could.

When our waitress came back and offered dessert, we decided to share a chocolate mousse. Once she’d left, I reached into my jacket and took out my little box. I passed it over, saying, “Happy Birthday, honey.”

She looked at it. It was too long to be a serious risk of my jumping the gun, but she did give me a questioning look, anyway.

I just smiled and nodded.

She grinned, then opened it, careful of the wrapping paper (which wasn’t that special, but I wasn’t surprised). She opened the shiny box inside and gasped.

“This ... did this come from where my earrings came from?”

“Nope,” I said. “This was hard to track down.”

She removed a fairly substantial solid gold necklace with three white jasmine flowers set about an inch apart from each other, each with a small diamond in the center.

“It’s perfect,” she said. “And ... it feels...”

I just nodded again.

“This is pretty serious jewelry,” she said.

“I got several opinions. Everyone thought it was perfect.”

“You shouldn’t have!” she said, a few tears in her eyes.

“I absolutely should have. It suits you perfectly, and the point of having money is to use it well, which includes the occasional nice present.”

“Nice? Extravagant!” she said, but she was smiling.

I shrugged. “Eye of the beholder, or the giver. I don’t think it is.”

“Well...” she said, then got up and moved over, “ ... it demands a kiss, at the least.”

We toned it down for the Brennerman’s crowd, and I think most people thought ‘Ah, young love!’ and not ‘Get a room!’