Chapter 6

Friday afternoon I said goodbye to my boss at the bus depot, and then headed home to load the pickup for the trip to Columbus. My boss had offered me a weekend job at the depot, and free bus fare back-and-forth to Columbus, but I reluctantly declined. The money would be nice, but, hey, the University Experience had to include Ohio State's football games at the Horseshoe.

I dreaded the confrontation with Marty Granville when I got to Newark. I knew he'd be giving me the Stone Face the whole time I was loading the truck with Annette's stuff and preparing to spirit her away to ugliness and sin in the Big City.

It kind of pissed me off. I mean, Annette and I hadn't even Done It yet, and here he was, ready to give me the Evil Eye.

Of course, I could just explain to him that all I'd ever done was to take his daughter to a cheap motel and eat her out repeatedly for three hours.

And all she'd ever done was to suck my Manly Shaft until I cried out in utter surrender.

Probably, if I explained it like that, I'm sure Marty would feel a lot better about everything.

So by 4 p.m. I'd kissed Mom and Sis goodbye, and given my Dad's hand a Manly Shake, and with my luggage and bookshelf and rocking chair all tied down with bungee cords and covered in plastic, I was off to Columbus, by way of Newark.

Things couldn't have been much worse at the Granville Residence. Not only was Annette absent when I arrived, so was her mother. I'd counted on Annette's Mom to be an ameliorating influence on Marty.

But it was just gonna be me and Marty.

Annette's stuff was all neatly boxed and sitting in a pile in the foyer, ready for loading. Her Dad was the designated loader.

Annette, he said, would be along shortly. She was running last-minute errands and saying goodbye to her grandmother.

Columbus was -- like 35 miles away. Goodbye to Grandma?

"Nice truck," Marty said.

"Yeah, thanks. Hey, if I'd had this all summer, I could have delivered your ice cream in much larger quantities."

That's right. Remind him how you blundered into his daughter's pants in the first place!

"That about does it," Marty said, after we'd stowed the last of Annette's luggage in the truck. "Come on in and I'll get us some coffee."

I wondered where the hell Annette was.

I wondered what Charles Boyer would do, in this situation. Or that other guy -- Paul Whatshisface -- the one with the two cigarettes.

Marty motioned for me to take a chair at the dining room table. He went into the kitchen, and came back with two coffees. He didn't ask me whether I wanted sugar and cream.

I decided black would be fine.

"Listen," Marty said. "I know you're fucking my daughter."

Guy doesn't beat around the bush!

"Actually, sir -- Annette and I are -- just beginning a -- uh -- relationship."

"You're not fucking my daughter?"

"Well, I --"

"You take her out to some fucking motel on the fucking Interstate, and you spend the fucking night with her there, and she calls her mother at 2:30 in the fucking morning to let her know she won't be home. --But you're not fucking her. Right!"

"Marty -- Mr. Granville -- I'm crazy about Annette. And it's true that we've been -- together. Technically, we haven't had -- intercourse, but --"

"Technically? What the fuck does that mean?"

Marty was pissed.

"I -- uh -- I mean that we're certainly contemplating having sex -- uh -- soon. But so far, we haven't."

"Don't lie to me, boy! Jesus Christ! Do you think I'm stupid? You took her to a fucking motel! Am I supposed to think you were playing Scrabble or something? Monopoly, maybe?"

"No sir! I mean, it's true we were doing some -- stuff, sir! I mean, I admit it's only a matter of time before Annette and I..."

"Before you what, you little weasel?"

"Before we have actual -- uh -- intercourse, sir."

"But you haven't, yet? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yessir. We've just -- you know -- kissed and stuff."

"Kissed?"

"Yessir."

"... and -- stuff?"

"Right."

"Well, I won't ask you to tell me about the 'stuff' part, because I wasn't born yesterday, and I can imagine it. But damn it, boy, I don't want you getting her pregnant! I want that girl to graduate, and have some kind of a future! She's my one-and-only daughter! You have any idea at all how a father feels -- about his only child? About his daughter?"