Chapter 31

Life for me was really going well. I was really enjoying all my class work at the school. Shirley and I were getting along so well it was positively frightening. Anne Coulter was progressing very nicely in her treatment for alcoholism, and, for once, Mama and Dad seemed to be getting along really well. Mama was in one of her periodic long respites from her depression. Uncle Bunny, as usual, added to my sense of well being, sending me frequent humorous accounts and observations of my parents behavior together, along with some very detailed reports about Anne, my Grandmother Mildred, and my Aunt Clara. The latter two were engaged in an epic battle with each other. Uncle Bunny called it the battle between Good and Evil.

Apparently, Aunt Clara was a real genius at locating her mother's many secret hiding places for her booze supply. One of the conditions that Uncle Bunny had placed for his not pursuing legal action against Mildred and Anne, on my behalf, was for Mildred to approve and accept a protective appointment of her daughter, my Aunt Clara, as her conservator and legal guardian. Clara, because of this appointment, now controlled all of the income that came into the family. Still, somehow, Mildred kept gaining access to generous quantities of alcohol. Each morning, while her mother still lay sleeping off her overindulgence from the night before, Aunt Clara would scour the house, finding and disposing of hidden caches of booze. These caches were four to eight ounce bottles, that had all been refilled with cheap vodka, which seemed to be Mildred's preferred libation. She apparently liked it straight, and, three or four ounces, when taken over an hour's time, was sufficient to keep her feeling no pain whatsoever. Apparently that was her goal too, to feel no pain. This failure of Clara's, not being able to cut off, or even curtail, her mother's drink supply, according to my Uncle Bunny, was driving Clara to distraction.

On the weekends, throughout all of August and September, Shirley and I managed to play at least one round of golf together. Mama had become friendly with Mrs. Jones, and she had somehow managed to clear the path for Shirley and me to be together most of the time I was home on the weekends. It wasn't supposed to be for sex though, and Shirley wasn't able to sleep at my house like Brenda had done. We ate most of our meals together, with me usually being invited to Shirley's house for a lunch or a dinner, and her coming to my house once or twice at least, as well. We usually ate together at the club on Saturday's, after finishing up playing golf with some of our family members.

Jane and Grace had left for school in mid August, and were living in their new apartment over in Bolling. Hans, Shirley and I had made several trips over there, helping them with moving in, and with furnishing their new place. Ronnie, Shirley's younger brother, had enrolled in the University of Kansas for his sophomore year of college.

I missed working with Dad, and I'm afraid I might have pestered him, asking too many questions about how things were progressing at work. It was different, when you were there, right in the thick of all the action. Then, you were too busy trying to get your own problems handled. You didn't have the time to worry much about how other people's projects were progressing. Now that I was once again back on the sidelines, I was hungry for news about nearly everything that was happening. It was the same story exactly, with the work being done on the golf learning center. Everything seemed to be progressing well, towards an opening in mid May of the next year. Everything was right on course it seemed, at the company and with the golf center, and all without any help or input from me. It was driving me crazy. Mama said I'd been bitten by the business bug, and she seemed to be very happy that this was so.

Like I said earlier, August and September were near idyllic for me. I was really in love, and my love was being returned, in equal measure, to me. All the members of my family, and my friends were doing well, at least they were, as far as I knew. I hadn't heard from Bea, and neither had Uncle Bunny. Brenda had left for her boarding school, and Uncle Bunny told me that she hated it, and wasn't making much of an attempt to take part in any of the group sessions, or individual therapy opportunities being offered to her. She was treating it only as a necessary ordeal, one that somehow had to be gotten through. Uncle Bunny told me she had told her mother that it was just something that she needed to endure. He sounded sadly resigned to hearing more of the same from her.

I had just about decided to write Brenda a letter, asking her to participate honestly and fully in the therapy sessions, for everyone's sake. In return, I was going to be offering her my renewed friendship, as an incentive. I would make it clear to her that I had Shirley now, who I loved, and all I was offering was a platonic friendship. First though, before writing, I spoke with Shirley about my idea. I told her what I was hoping to accomplish, and I also told her this was something I wanted to do to help Brenda. I did want to help Brenda, but mostly, I wanted to help Mama and Uncle Bunny. They were both so anxious, and wanted so much, for the program to accomplish something positive for Brenda.

Shirley listened to my idea, and to the rationale behind it. It surprised me when she told me she didn't think it was such a good idea, and that I should try to stay out of it. She told me I needed to allow Brenda to work things out all by herself. She also told me, in no uncertain terms, that it would be better if it were Brenda herself who was finding her own reasons for seeking help with her problems. She told me that Brenda had to want to change for herself, not because of anyone else.

This brought about the first real fight that Shirley and I had ever had with each other. I practically accused her of being jealous of Brenda, and of not having enough faith in me, and in our love. She told me that I didn't understand the true nature of Brenda's problems, and that doing what I wanted to do, would only give her a reason to stay with her current way of looking at things. I didn't accept Shirley's logic, but I knew enough by now to know that she was a lot more important to me than my winning any argument could be. For once, I wasn't planning on doing anything that might cause a rift to develop. I told her that I wouldn't write to Brenda.

I asked Shirley if she thought it would be all right for Mama to write to Brenda, to offer her some encouragement, and pretty much the same deal I was going to propose, with the new incentive being Mama's continued patronage and friendship. I thought this might accomplish much the same thing, while leaving my name, and any offer of a renewed, platonic, friendship from me, out of it. Again, Shirley said she thought this was definitely something that Brenda had to decide to do for herself. It was difficult for me to do, but I accepted Shirley's conclusions, and again agreed to do nothing.

On the evening of the fourteenth of October, Brenda, along with two other girls, also students from the school, ran away. One of the girls had a friend who came by in a car and whisked the three girls from the open campus. A week later, the other two girls were located in Youngstown, Ohio. Both had been picked up while attempting to buy illegal drugs. They claimed that Brenda had come along with them only as far as Akron, where, they said, they had dropped her off.

A search was on all over the Midwest, sponsored by both the school in Ohio, and by Uncle Bunny. I blamed myself, for not having written when I first had wanted to. Mama blamed herself, for coming up with the idea to send Brenda away in the first place. Uncle Bunny was frantic, but he wasn't blaming himself, or anyone else. He said that Brenda was responsible for her own bad decisions, and that it had been her actions that had necessitated her being sent away for help in the first place. On the twenty fourth of October, Brenda showed up at her house, and refused to discuss anything about where she had been, or what she had done during that ten day period. She also flatly refused to go back to Ohio. Walt Connor supported Brenda's decision not to return. Mrs. Connor seemed torn between keeping Brenda home, knowing that this would alienate Mama and Uncle Bunny, or else sending her back, running the risk of causing further problems in her marriage. In the end, unable to sacrifice the comfort of her personal situation, even for Brenda's future welfare, she chose to do nothing, and Brenda was re-enrolled in the Ridgeline High School.

Now that we all knew that Brenda was safe, at least physically safe, anger had set in among some of the adults involved. Mama and Uncle Bunny were both angry. Neither of them were used to having people unwilling to follow their advice. It also bothered them that the Connors family didn't appreciate the help and support they had been given. I tried to tell myself that I no longer cared what happened to Brenda. I had Shirley to concern myself with now. For me to be spending my time worrying about Brenda, would just create other problems, problems I wished to try and avoid, if it was at all possible.

In the end, it was Mama that decided against taking any retaliatory action against the Connors. She did cut way back on her social contact with Mrs. Connor as well as with Brenda. Uncle Bunny continued to ignore Mr. and Mrs. Connor both, and stuck mostly with his law practice. Mrs. Connor seethed over his growing personal relationship with Elizabeth. He stopped making it his business to pay close attention to what was going on with Brenda and Richard. This was caused mostly by the fact that he wasn't in close daily contact with their mother.

By Thanksgiving, things had seemed to settle back down into a comfortable pattern again. It was while I was home for Thanksgiving that I first found out that some of the kids at the high school, led by both Richard and Brenda, were doing their best to make Shirley's life miserable. It was a campaign that had been orchestrated by Brenda, first to try to embarrass and humiliate Shirley because of her height, and the slimness of her physique. Second, she wanted to cause trouble between Shirley and me. Shirley had never mentioned a word to me about any of it. I only found out about it because I got a phone call from Gary Carstairs. He told me that he'd learned about the plot from Emily, and he thought maybe I still had enough influence with Brenda, that I could do something to make her stop doing it.

As soon as I got off the phone with Gary, I called Shirley. At first, she made it sound like it wasn't really anything, and that it didn't even bother her. When I kept asking her to tell me about some of the specific things the kids were doing or saying, she started crying, and wouldn't tell me. After I got off the phone with Shirley, unable to get her to really talk to me, I called over to the Connor house and Richard answered.

"Richard, this is Kenny Parsons. Why are you doing those things to Shirley Jones? What did she ever do to you?"

"We aren't doing anything to that stork, and if she says we are, she's just lying. It isn't us that you need to talk to, it's her. She's the one that keeps to herself and won't even speak to any of the people who are trying to be her friends. Brenda tried to help her, and she told her to buzz off. She's a real freak man. I don't know why you think she's so much. None of the rest of us do."

"She's my girlfriend, Richard. I love her. If you hurt her, you're hurting me. Do you remember what happened the last time you tried to hurt me?"

"Don't try to pull that on me, you asshole! Do you think I'm afraid of you or something? I'm not. Kenny, you just mind your own business. This isn't about you. Tell your girlfriend not to be so stuck up when other people are trying to be friendly. She's the one that started this, not Brenda. All Brenda wanted was to be friends with her. She called Brenda a whore. Where do you suppose she got that from, Kenny? You better not be talking that way about my sister." I tried to say something to him, to explain there was no way that Shirley would say something like that to Brenda, but he hung up on me before I had a chance to. I was so mad, I wanted to go over to the Connor house, drag Richard outside, and beat his ass, until he finally told me the truth. Instead, I walked over to Shirley's house.

Mrs. Jones let me in, but, for the first time in a long time, she didn't seem very happy to see me. I came in and asked her where Shirley was.

"She's in her room, crying, Kenny. Did you two have a fight?"

"No. I asked her about something I heard, about what's happening to her in school. I just heard about some of the other kids at school teasing her. She said it wasn't anything, but, when I questioned her some more, she started crying, and then she wouldn't talk to me."

"How did you say you learned of this?"

"This boy I know, he heard his sister talking about it, and she told him that Shirley is my girlfriend. He told me it was Brenda and her brother that were behind all the teasing, and the making fun of Shirley."

"This is the same Brenda that used to be your girlfriend, before you and Shirley?"

"Yes. She went away to school, but she came back, a few weeks ago. Gary, that's the boy's name, the one who told me about what they were doing to Shirley, he said that Brenda and Richard have gotten some of the other kids to say mean things, and to make fun of Shirley."

"Kenny, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but it probably isn't all this Brenda's fault. Shirley has always been teased by some of the other children. It just comes with the territory when you're a girl who's as tall as Shirley is, and one who is also very slender. This is nothing new to her. I think she's mostly just upset because you found out about it. She's afraid you'll think less of her after you find out what some of the other kids think."

"That's crazy, Mrs. Jones. She knows I love her. Why would that change because of what some other people think?"

"I know that, you know that. Shirley needs to see that, and to understand that it wouldn't make any difference to you. I understand what she's going through. I felt the same way until after I met Ron. I was sure he was going to stop liking me, because of some of the comments people made in our presence. Some of them were even friends of his, and that's what scared me the most."

"Can I go back and talk to her?"

"I suppose so, but don't be too upset if she doesn't want to talk to you, or if she doesn't want you to see her like she is right now."

I went back and knocked on Shirley's bedroom door. As soon as I knocked, and called out her name, it got very quiet in her room. Before I had knocked, I could hear her crying, clearly. I started talking to her through the door, even before she said anything. I told her I wanted her to know that I loved her, and that I always would. I told her that I thought she was perfect, exactly like she was. I said, if I absolutely had to change something about her, I'd make her a little bit taller, tall enough so she would be a little bit taller than I was.

"Why would you want to do that?" I heard her ask me that question in a low and husky voice.

"Because I'd want you to know it wouldn't matter to me at all if you were taller than me. Does it bother you that I'm taller now?"

"You know it doesn't. That's what I first liked about you, that you were taller than me."

"Does that mean you would stop liking me if you shot past me by half an inch?"

"No, I'd still love you."

"How about if you were two inches taller? Would that matter?"

"Two inches? That's a lot. We would be starting to look funny when we stood together, if I was that much taller."

"I'd get those elevator shoes, and you'd have to wear flats or else stay barefoot. I couldn't stand it if I lost you, Shirley. Especially if it was just because you've got some silly idea in your head that your height is important to me. That might be important to you, or even to some of those cretins you go to school with, but it doesn't matter to me, not at all. I wouldn't care if you were a foot taller than me. I love you. Brenda was never even half as important to me as you are, and she knows it, and, that's why she's acting this way. I thought I loved her, but it was more like lust than any real love. I found that out with you, because with you, I have both. I love you, and I'm hot for that gorgeous body of your too. Speaking of that, weren't we going to go watch some television at my house today? I hope you weren't planning on trying to get out of all those promises you made? I'm expecting quite a workout from you.

"Not so loud, Kenny, my mom might hear you." I raised my voice, until it was just below shouting. "Shirley, it's time to come out of your room, so we can go over to my house, and I can ravish your sexy body again, on my big, king sized, bed." When she opened the door to make me be quiet, I grabbed her in my arms, and started kissing her all over her face and neck. I wouldn't release her as I kissed her, and tickled her too, at the same time. I was also making sure, while I found new places to tickle, that my hand found her breasts, and her pussy too. It took a couple more minutes, but she eventually stopped protesting, or trying to stop my roaming hands. By the time I felt her palm, searching for my dick, along the outside of my slacks, I knew she had gotten over her worry about how I'd react when I found out about her being teased at school. We almost went too far for us to stop, but only almost. Two things prevented it from going past almost. The first was me knowing that I hadn't brought any rubbers, and the second was when Ronnie, her brother, opened his bedroom door and stared at the two of us. Luckily, we were pressed too tightly together for him to see what our hands were doing. I'm pretty sure he had a good idea though, from having listened to us talking, not to mention us moaning, and bumping into the wall, repeatedly, for the past few minutes.

"Damn it Parsons, do you think a guy wants to be relaxing in his own bedroom, and have to listen to the two of you going at it out here in the hallway? If you do think that, let me tell you, you're dead wrong. And as for you, Shirley, Shirley, Bo Burly, I'm pretty certain that Dad wouldn't like it if he found out you were so hot for it that you couldn't wait even long enough to get over to the justly infamous Kenny Parsons love nest. There is such a thing as not being too obvious you know? It's a little hard to overlook the fact that you and Kenny are getting it on, especially if you insist on getting boned right out here in the hallway."

"Ronnie!!! We were just kissing." She was laughing though, probably relieved it was only her brother, Ronnie, instead of one of her parents, who were making that kind of comment to her. Ron was right too. We had been less than circumspect lately, at least when it came to disguising our physical intimacy. It was simply too good and fulfilling for us to want to try to hide it. We were being very careful, at least as far as pregnancy was concerned, though. Shirley had even asked her mother to let her get on birth control pills, but Mrs. Jones had told Shirley she'd needed to first get her father's permission. Shirley wasn't ready for that, not yet. I smiled over at Ron, but I made no comment. I wondered how I'd feel if I had a younger sister, and I knew for certain that her boyfriend was having sex with her.

"Mom, I'm going over to Kenny's for awhile. I'll phone you if I'm not going to be home to eat supper."

"Have you spoken with your father yet about that matter you asked me about?"

"No. I asked you, but I'm not going to ask him too. I don't know why you can't just help me get them. It's only so we can be safer."

"Shirley Mae Jones. You act like this isn't an important decision that your father should be made aware of. I won't take any steps to legitimize your actions without first having your father's full knowledge of it, and his permission. I'm already troubled by how far I've allowed this situation to get taken. If you are mature enough to want to have sex, you should be mature enough to sit down with your father, and discuss your reasoning, and your feelings for Kenny with him. You want to be an adult with your actions, so you'll have to be an adult when taking care of your responsibilities too."

"He won't understand. He'll make me stop seeing Kenny."

"You don't give your father the credit he deserves, Shirley. He loves you very much. Do you think he's so unaware that he doesn't see or know what you've been doing? He doesn't think it's his place to go to you with his concerns, but that's because he expects you, at some point, to go to him, and to confide in him, the same way you've done with me."

"Did the boys have to do that? I bet they didn't."

"The boys weren't going to get pregnant, and, so far at least, they haven't gotten anyone else pregnant. To answer your question though, yes, both our sons came to us and asked our advice about girls they were seeing. It is past time you show that same respect for your father. Both of us expect it from you."

"I'll go with you Shirley. You don't need to do it alone. This concerns both of us, equally. I'm not ashamed of loving you, or of us doing what we do." I meant it too. I didn't look forward to doing it, but Mrs. Jones was certainly right. If we thought we had the right to make love, there was no reason to try to hide that fact from the people who loved us the most. I was willing to be there, and to lend Shirley whatever emotional support she required.

"What about your parents, Kenny? Are they aware about the nature of your physical closeness to Shirley?"

"I'm sure they know, Mrs. Jones. They haven't said too much, other than my father had a talk with me about being responsible, and not doing anything that would cause Shirley or me to regret our actions. Mama knows, but she loves Shirley almost as much as I do. They have to know, because Shirley isn't very quiet." I got an elbow in the side from Shirley, and a nervous sounding laugh from Mrs. Jones for my last comment.

"Your father will be home for dinner tonight, Shirley, and you'll be here as well. Kenny, you're also invited. When I go to bed tonight, I expect all of this to be settled. If it isn't, for any reason, after tonight, I will expect the two of you to cease all sexual contact until it is. Do you understand me, Shirley?" Shirley nodded that she understood. "Kenny, I want your promise that you'll respect and obey me in this. No more sex after dinner tonight, not unless, or until, Mr. Jones has had a chance to discuss your past and future sexual activity with Shirley."

"All right. No more, but only after dinner right?"

"Yes, after dinner. I suggest you both go do what you've been doing already, so that I can relax and see to preparing our dinner tonight. Shirley, both your brothers will be out of the house for dinner tonight, so it will just be the four of us. That should make it easier for you."

We went over to my house and we tried making love, but Shirley couldn't get that aroused, and I was still worried about what was happening at the high school with Shirley. I really wanted to put an end to it, but I didn't know what I could do or say that would accomplish that. We did cuddle together, and we talked. I mostly listened while Shirley rehearsed what she was going to say to her father. I even tried to help her, offering several opening comments to break the ice with her dad. She rejected all my suggestions.

We left my house at five thirty, knowing that dinner at her house was served promptly at six. Mrs. Jones had prepared what she referred to as a simple meal, turkey pot pies. All of us knew that she had made everything from scratch, and it wasn't anything like the ones you got in the frozen food section at the grocers. These were delicious, and they were a lot larger than the grocery store ones also. I had gotten about three bites, before Shirley opened the main topic of conversation with her father.