Chapter 4

I lost the game with Charlene, and Debbie giggled. We were sitting together on one of the couches in the back room when Linda rushed in and spotted us.

Debbie smiled and said, "What are you doing here?"

"I just came to warn you that Dad is right behind me," she replied.

"Oh fuck!" Debbie groaned.

Five seconds after Debbie's outburst, a tall silver-haired man came walking slowly into the back room. He walked up to us and held out his hand to Debbie. He was about fifty, and carried himself with the self-assurance of wealth and privilege.

"Come on, honey, let's go," he said quietly.

She stayed in her seat and said, "I'm twenty-one. I don't have to go with you."

He dropped his hand and said, "This is going to break your mother's heart. You know that, don't you?"

Linda said, "Mom knows! And she doesn't care! She loves Debbie!"

He seemed to wilt, and his shoulders slumped. He sighed, then looked as if he was about to say something else.

Debbie raised her head and said, "All you care about is getting me married off to one of those creeps at the country club! You don't care what I want!"

He squatted with his elbows on his knees and said, "I don't think you really want this. Do you?"

Debbie said, "Daddy, this is Megan. I feel more alive and loved when I'm with her than I've ever felt in my life! You don't understand!" The tears were running down her cheeks, ruining her makeup.

He glanced at me with a curious look and gave me a brief tight smile. The talk was getting very emotional and loud, and a couple of girls peeked in the doorway. I waved them away and waited.

Linda grabbed Debbie's beer, took a big swallow and stared defiantly at her father.

A long minute later he sighed and said, "We'll talk when you come home, ok?" Then he turned and walked out.

Debbie sat and cried, and I exhaled a sigh of relief. Linda and I tried to comfort her, but nothing stopped the tears. Last call was shouted out, and I put down my bottle. I'd had enough.

Linda kissed her sister in the parking lot and told her not to worry, then got into her car. I bundled Debbie into the Jeep and went home.

I put her to bed and cuddled with her, stroking her hair. She cried for a little while, and then seemed to pass out. Her mental exhaustion had kicked in, and I slept fitfully beside her.

Saturday morning about ten she drank coffee with me and prepared to go home.

"Before I go I want to say something to you," she said. "Something important."

I thought she was going to say she cared for me. I could deal with that; the feeling was slowly becoming mutual. I wasn't quite prepared for what I heard.

She fiddled with the handle on her coffee mug and said, "I feel alive with you. After we met the first time, I asked around about you; I talked to some of the other girls in the club when you weren't there."

"What did they say?" I asked.

"They said you were a loner," she replied, "and you didn't have a steady girlfriend."

I got confused and started to get angry. "So that was why you picked me to show you the ropes?" I asked sarcastically.

"That's not it at all," she smiled. "I could tell you were special, even from the beginning. And as much as I thought I liked girls, I didn't want my first experiences to be with anyone else but you. Some of the girls in the club scare me."

Somewhat mollified but still upset, I said, "Some of the girls scare me too. You're telling me I was special and you trusted me not to hurt you. Where does that leave us now?"

"I can't do a decent job of explaining it to myself, much less you," she said, "but I think I love you, in any sense of the word. You have jolted my emotions, made me feel, deep down, like I made the right choice. I'm right to love women, and I'm right to love you."

"You don't know what you're saying," I said. "Ok, you like women. I have a lot of baggage from the past, and there's a lot about me you don't know. The thought of being in love again scares me shitless."

"I know enough to know that I love you, and I'm willing to listen to anything you have to tell me," she said. "Are you going to let the past interfere with your future?" She added with a little giggle, "The thought of being in love scares me too, but I want it so bad I can't - I won't - let the fear stop me."

I got up and refilled our cups, then resumed my seat. So many different emotions were flying through my head at once I couldn't keep track of any of them.

She continued, "You were my first. I want you to be my last. When you hold me I tingle inside. When you kiss me I melt. When you put your hands on my body and your lips on mine, all of it feels so right. You've made my dreams reality. I just think of you and my panties get wet."

I laughed nervously and said, "That's your hormones."

"No," she said. "You taught me that everything on my body is connected to everywhere else if I became aware of the signals my body was sending me. I took you at your word, and listened to it."

"Oh Debbie," I cried, "this is a lot for a girl to handle all at once!"

She stood up and drained her cup, then leaned down and hugged me. "I've got to go home and face my father and mother. I don't want you to confess to undying love or anything right this second. It would be enough for me to know you're willing to give us - you and me - a chance."

I hugged her and said, "I'll try. I really will."

She headed for the door and said, "I'll call you soon."

We shared one more brief kiss at the door, and she was gone.

I spent the rest of the weekend in a mindless haze. Not one thought connected to any other. The habits of living went forward: I peed, I brushed my teeth, I vacuumed the floor, I slept. I ate when I was hungry, and wandered aimlessly around inside the house. I drove the Jeep to the lake and sat at the shore, staring. I took the trail to the summit again and sat there, trying to make some sense of what I knew.

I was a little scared of the word love. I hadn't used it with anyone since Karen. To me, loving meant opening, and opening meant hurt. I had started loving Karen in ninth grade. I was naive enough then to believe that my love shielded me from harm, and then the harm came. Ostracism and taunts from fellow students for being different. Foster care because my mother wouldn't accept my choice, then the pain of losing both of them. My world changed into something horrible overnight, and it was judged - by others - to be my fault. I had resolved long ago not to let anyone get close enough to hurt me. I believed I'd been successful. I suddenly realized I was wrong and my hands started shaking. Sunday afternoon about six o'clock I made up my mind.

Debbie called Sunday night about nine. She said she was fine, and her Mom understood. Her Dad had a problem with it, but he was slowly accepting the facts. All three of her sisters said to say hi, and I said hi in return. After a slight pause, the conversation turned serious.

"I miss you," she said.

"I can come over or meet you somewhere," I said. "I miss you too."

"I'd like to," she said, "but I have to do something for myself first. I've admitted my choice. I'm very happy with it now that it's not a secret anymore. I want to get settled into my job, and then I can come see you."

"You don't need a job to see me," I joked.

"Yes, I do," she insisted. "I don't want to be like Janice. I want to be an equal partner in our relationship. I want you to know you can count on me as much as I count on you."

I must have lost track of time, because I heard Debbie say, "Are you there, Megan? Hello?"

"Yeah, I'm here," I said. "You do what you have to, and come see me when you can. I'm as close as the phone, and you can call me as often as you want. I really miss you."

"I'll see you Friday for sure," she said. "Bye for now. I miss you."

"See you then," I said. "I miss you too."

I hung up the phone and grabbed a beer. I lit a smoke and sprawled on the couch on my stomach. I dissected the conversation backwards and forwards over the next two hours, and I always came to the same conclusion. By substituting the word 'love' for the word 'miss', the whole thing made more sense.

Monday at work I had two visitors; Aaron and Alvin.

Alvin took me to the side of the machine and said, "He only wants to talk. He has Teddy's permission, and I'll be right here. Will you do it?"

"Do I have a choice?" I asked.

"Yes," Alvin said. "You don't have to talk to him unless you want to, but I'd recommend you get it over with."

"Ok," I sighed.

I sat at my bench and Alvin watched my machine. Aaron sat across from me and put his hands on the chair.

I watched him consider his words for a time, then he said, "I apologize. I realize I carried my little joke too far."

"Next time it'll cost you another broken arm," I said, "but I accept your apology. On one condition."

"Which is?" he asked.

"You quit undressing me with your eyes every time you see me," I said. "That shit gives girls like me the creeps. I don't think the regular ones like it any better either."

"I can do that," he said, "but what does a woman do for you that a man can't? I don't understand."

"You never will, Aaron. You never will," I replied.

He thought a minute and shrugged, then offered his hand. "I'm sorry, I really am."

I shook his hand and said, "Ok."

Aaron motioned to Alvin and they left. The rest of the day was quiet.

Janice called that night, and said she'd quit drinking. We talked for two hours and had a nice time reliving our memories of the past, then she asked me what I was going to do about Debbie.

"I'm going to love her," I said, "as much as she loves me. Or try to, anyway."

"I guess I'll have to find another fuck-buddy, huh?" Janice asked.

"It looks that way, pal," I said.

Friday night at six-thirty I was sitting at the curb in the Jeep smoking a cigarette and Debbie tapped on the passenger's window. I jumped and opened my door as fast as I could. I ran around to the curb side of the Jeep and hugged her tight. Then I kissed her, and she flowed into my arms.

She wiped her eyes and said, "Hi, stranger."

"Hello, my love," I replied.

"You mean that?" she asked.

"I do," I said.

Her hand smoothed its way over my stomach as she kissed me hard, and then dived for my panties under my skirt.

"You're wet!" she hissed in my ear.

"I am, and that's a fact!" I laughed.

We stood on the sidewalk staring at each other for a couple of minutes. The joy of seeing her and the happiness that came along with it made me babble uncontrollably, then we hugged again.

She said, "Let's go park. I've got something to ask you." I gave her the 'where' look, and she said, "Around the corner."

I drove the Jeep to the furniture lot and parked, then got us a beer from the cooler.

She lit our smokes and said, "We've been invited to a party tonight. Do you want to go?"

"Whose party is it?" I asked.

"Tracy's," she replied, "but it's at someone else's house."

"I'll go if you want me to," I said.

"I do, I really do," she said. She kissed me softly then, with her warm wet mouth and softly probing tongue. Not passionate as kisses sometimes get, but with a promise of something more to come.

I touched her leg and her shoulder, patted her arm, kissed her cheek and smoothed her hair. I couldn't keep my hands off her. It was good to see her and have her near me. I kissed her back.

By seven-thirty we were on the highway going north. I passed the cutoff to my place and kept following Debbie's directions. About eight, I turned off the highway onto a paved side road, and two miles later we pulled up at a very large house.

I parked in the circular driveway and Debbie said, "We're here!"