Chapter 4: Freshman - Break was a Bust

If it hadn't been for Marcy's daily telephone calls I would have gone back to school the day after Christmas; things at home were going that badly. Well, I suppose there was also the matter of my rider. I had told Wanda we would be leaving on Sunday, the Sixth of January. Changing the plans would have caused major upheaval in my own home and no telling how much trouble Wanda would have raised.

Things started to go sour as soon as I went upstairs to my room. There on my desk was my letter to Heather, stamped, 'return to sender, no forwarding address.'

I became furious at everyone, with Heather for not providing a forwarding address, with my mother for not giving me the new address, with Suzanne for not forwarding the returned letter to me at school and finally with myself for not staying in touch with my sister. A month had passed since I mailed the letter, a month in which Heather had not had the use of the money I had sent her.

There was no answer at my mother's house and the hospital said she was off until Tuesday, the Second of January. The person I spoke to didn't know if my mother had plans to leave town. Where could she be? I tossed the letter on my desk and looked around the room.

Something seemed strange. It took me a couple of minutes to spot it; the light on the answering machine was not blinking. Who did I expect to leave messages? Marcy was the only one who knew my plans but she would have told Jeannie and Josh that I was coming home tonight, wouldn't she? Why hadn't Karen left a message?

A very angry, groggy voice answered the phone. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" Karen asked.

I knew it was about a quarter past midnight. Had I dialed the wrong number? Was this the same woman who had, only a month before, begged me to stay a little longer at two-fifteen in the morning?

"I'm sorry I woke you. I just got here and wanted to talk to you," I said.

"You promised to call and write. I haven't heard from you for a month and now you wake me so we can talk?"

I remembered her asking if I would call or write to her but I hadn't made promises. She didn't know about the school's 'no long distance calls policy.' "I'm sorry," I said.

"I think it would be best if you didn't call me again, Sammy."

She hung up the phone before I could remind her we had another six 'times' together.

I should have taken her seriously and remembered. An occasional note would have saved a lot of heartache and frustration. Why hadn't I understood that hearing from me was important to her? I had thought of her often; didn't that count?

Marcy called early the next morning. I told her about my troubles before asking how she was or what was happening in her life. She heard me out and tried to help with my problems. "Keep calling until you reach your mom. If she doesn't know Heather's address you'll have to hire a private detective to find her," Marcy suggested.

"Did you tell Jeannie when I was coming home?"

"Yes."

"She didn't call."

"She will," Marcy answered, confidently.

Marcy gave me the same 'keep calling' advise about Karen. "Tell her you're sorry. She must know you're busy at school."

For once, Marcy wasn't much help. "It's nice to hear your voice," I said. Marcy wished me luck, saying she would call again tomorrow.

There was no answer at the Baldwin home. I called Josh and he told me they had gone to the airport to pick up Jessica. "When is Cindy coming?" I asked. He didn't know. Why did I ask about Cindy? Did I really even want to see her?

Suzanne wanted me to take her shopping and since I needed to buy some last minute gifts I was glad to go. She let me drive her car.

"How come you didn't send my sister's letter to me?" I asked, trying not to sound accusing.

"It only came back on Monday. I was afraid you wouldn't get it. You know how the mail is this time of year," she said.

"She's pregnant. I need to find out where she is," I said.

"Oh, my, when is she due?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe she's in the hospital," Suzanne said, sending a chill through me.

I bought several gifts, including a remote controlled toy vehicle for Kevin and a double-twelve domino set that I planned to give to Karen. Perhaps she would take it seriously and decide to expand our 'times' together to twenty-four?

We had lunch together and Suzanne decided I needed some new clothes. For the next two hours she watched as I tried on, not just pants and sweaters for school, but suits.

"Why do I need this?" I asked as a seamstress marked the pants of a lightweight spring suit for tailoring.

"You'll see," Suzanne said, dismissively.

By the time we got home it was mid-afternoon. I took my packages up to my room and discovered I had one piece of mail. It was an invitation to Ned and Penelope's wedding. They were to be married on Sunday, the Fourth of March, 1990. Suzanne's words, 'you'll see, ' rang in my ears. The lightweight suit was in case we had unseasonably warm weather on the Fourth of March.

My mother still didn't answer her telephone that afternoon.

At dinner, we discussed the upcoming wedding. I commented that it was considerate of Ned and Penelope to get married when I would be home from school between the second and third quarters. Suzanne asked who I was planning to invite and I said I didn't know. Did I need to invite anyone?

"Haven't you met someone at school yet, Sammy?"

"Not really," I answered. Having girls in my classes still seemed strange. Even though they were in the minority they were everywhere but we men outnumbered them by three to two. That may have been the problem; there weren't enough of them to go around. I wondered if Karen would go to the wedding with me.

Suzanne told Mr. Oldham about Heather's letter being returned and that my mother said she was pregnant. "The poor girl is all alone. If Jane doesn't know where she is we'll have to do something."

Mr. Oldham didn't commit to anything but I could tell he was pondering the options. Suzanne's concern and Mr. Oldham's thoughtful interest gave me the feeling that I would have help in finding Heather.

Jeannie called to ask if I wanted to go to the airport the next morning to pick up Cindy. I was neutral about it. Cindy had clearly moved on. I was about to turn her down until she told me why I was being invited. "Will you drive? Jessica and Josh will go with us. They're both looking forward to seeing you."

Hearing that, I agreed to drive my car. I hadn't seen Jessica for years and Josh would be fun. I certainly wasn't having much fun on my own.

When I returned to the sunroom Mr. Oldham said he had been giving Heather's disappearance some thought. He wanted her last known address and at breakfast the next morning he said that Carey Abrams was going to look into finding Heather's whereabouts.

"Sounds good," Marcy said when I reported what Mr. Oldham was doing. "Have you made any progress with Karen?"

"No, but I'm going to try her again," I laughed. "We're going to pick up Cindy at the airport after while."

Marcy cautioned me not to trust Cindy. "You said yourself that she's gone to this weird place. I don't want to hear that she's hurt you again."

"She hasn't hurt me," I objected but I changed the subject, telling Marcy about how Wanda had reacted to the domino. We laughed together about ridiculous things. When we ended the call I realized that I hadn't found out what was new with her. How selfish of me. Why hadn't I invited her to come to Ned and Penelope's wedding?

I tried my mother again but there was still no answer. Could it be that she went to California to be with Heather?

Jessica sat up front with me. We talked about my classes at school and her job. She was sharing an apartment with two other girls in Chicago and working in an ad agency as a marketing assistant. She said it was an entry-level position but the agency was well established and the prospects of moving up looked good. Jessica seemed more mature than I recalled. When I asked about her love life she smiled demurely. "Let's just say I'm one of the Baldwin sisters," she laughed.

The airport was a madhouse. I couldn't park near the gate where we were to meet Cindy so I drove around while the others went inside. When they appeared I could tell from their sour faces that things were less than harmonious between the Baldwin sisters. Even with their heavy winter coats hiding their shapely bodies the sisters were a lovely trio. Cindy was walking between Jessica and Jeannie with Josh behind them carrying her luggage.

"Hi Cindy," I said to her as I opened the trunk for Josh to stow the luggage. My greeting was acknowledged but neither of us made a move toward the other. A police officer was urging me to move away from the entrance so we all jumped into the car, Jessica in the seat next to me, Cindy in the back with Josh and Jeannie.

The conversation on the ride home was guarded, limited to 'how's school' and 'doesn't this weather stink?'

When we got to the girls' house I opened the trunk and Josh carried Cindy's luggage into the house. Judging from the time he was gone, he took it all the way upstairs to her room. Jeannie was the first to come to me and give me a thank-you hug. Jessica followed, jokingly saying she wanted to hear how I had gotten the scar in my cheek. She kissed the scar and followed Jeannie into the house, leaving Cindy and me alone. We were standing about three or four feet apart, looking at each other.

"Jess knows how you got your cheek punctured; I told her. She just wanted an excuse to kiss you," Cindy said, looking almost little-girl timid.

I laughed, "she didn't need an excuse to kiss me."

She took a step toward me, stopped and swallowed like she was groping for the right words. I caught a glimpse of Josh at the front door. He watched us for two seconds and disappeared inside the house.

"You didn't say anything to my sisters?"

"No."

"About... you know?"

I shook my head.

"Because they think I'm... I don't want them to know."

"I didn't say anything."

"Thank you," she said, turning toward the house.

"You're welcome," I said, loud enough for her to turn in surprise. She smiled and continued toward the front door. I walked around the car and opened the driver's door.

"Sammy?" I heard her call to me and looked over the car to see what she wanted.

"Maybe we can... you know... ?"

Clips of Cindy in every possible situation played in my mind. I pictured her in the ice cream shop, talking quietly, in my room, fucking me in my bed, mistaking me for someone named Otto, distracting Josh, in the cottage, twisting her lips into the bow tie shape, in the cottage, holding her tits while Spence slammed into her from behind, in the cottage, holding her legs open while Cecile lapped her pussy.

"I don't think so, Cindy," I said before sliding into my seat and closing the door. I was several blocks away from the Baldwin house, banging my hands on the steering wheel and calling myself an idiot when I thought about Josh. Well, fuck it; I couldn't go back. He would have to walk home.

Marcy called me every morning. Otherwise, I had no contact with anyone outside the house for days.

"You've got to shake it off, Sammy," Marcy said to me on Tuesday, the day after Christmas.

"Have you ever felt alone?"

"You know I have."

"Marcy?"

"Yes, Sammy?"

"Do you really love me?"

"You know I do."

Marcy was right; I needed to shake if off. I went to work with Mr. Oldham on Wednesday and Thursday, roaming the office, hiding with my back to Donna's credenza and eavesdropping on her meetings.

Donna greeted a visitor to her office, careful not to mention a name. I thought I recognized a female's voice. It sounded like one of the accountants. What was her name? Oh, yes, Gail.

Gail opened the conversation. "Do you have a minute, Donna?"

"Of course, what is it?" Donna asked.

"This is between us, okay? Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I promise. What is it?"

"I may have fucked something up."

"Oh no, what have I always told you? They don't teach you everything in accounting class. I've always said you can come to me if you have a question about how to handle something. How bad is it? What did you do?"

"It's not about work. It's... personal," Gail said, hesitantly, like telling Donna about her problem was not as important as it had been two minutes before.

I heard relief in Donna's voice. "You know you can talk to me."

Gail's voice took on a high tone, breaking as she spoke. "It's Jerry, Simone's husband. He keeps calling."

Simone was another accountant but I had never seen her husband.

"That's a solvable problem. Tell him to stop calling," Donna said, sounding almost gleeful.

"I tried that. He doesn't listen. He keeps calling, wanting to meet me someplace."

"You'll have to threaten to tell Simone," Donna's voice was gentle but had a tone of finality.

"It's not that simple. Jerry and I... he came alone to a party and we got to talking... and..." Gail stopped talking, like she was unable to say more.

"Oh no, you didn't," Donna said, sounding really concerned now.

Gail was crying, too choked up to speak.

"Help me understand this. You don't want anything more to do with Jerry and you don't want Simone to know about your involvement with her husband. Is that correct?"

Gail's answer was a garbled, "Yes."

"Go to the lady's room and wash you face. I'm going to take care of this," Donna said and I heard the sniffling woman leave the office.

"Are you still there, Sammy?" Donna asked and I spoke up to let her know I had heard everything.

It only took Donna ten minutes to speak to Human Resources, obtain Jerry's 'phone number at work, get him on the phone and explain that his conduct as it pertained to employees in her department was inappropriate and must cease immediately. It sounded like Jerry was not being cooperative until she warned him that her next step was to tell his wife that he was harassing one of her coworkers. "Thank you, Jerry. I'm glad that we have come to an understanding," she said before I heard her place the receiver in its cradle.

"That took a lot of guts," I congratulated her. I didn't know what Jerry looked like but Donna was about five feet, one and a half inches tall and could not have weighed much over one hundred pounds.

"All in a day's work," she laughed. "They don't teach everything in accounting class."

"I guess they don't teach guts either," I said and we laughed again.

She became serious and asked me not to say anything to Mr. Oldham about what I had witnessed in her office that day and especially not to tell Suzanne. I promised not to tell anyone but she didn't say that I couldn't record the incident in my journal. That's what I was doing when Marcy called on Friday morning.

Marcy wasn't anyone, was she? I shamelessly related the story to her.

"What do you have planned for New Years Eve?" Marcy asked.

"Nothing," I had to admit. "What are your plans?"

"Press is taking me to a party," she said cheerfully. When she called the next day I had some news.

"My 'phone has started to ring again," I said. "Wanda called to ask if we could go back to school earlier than planned. She said she needs to work on her thesis and she didn't bring it home. All her research is at school."

"You're not going back early, are you? I was hoping you could come to my house for a sleepover."

"I've already told her we can leave on Tuesday. There's nothing happening here," I answered.

For the next ten minutes I listened to Marcy scold me for letting Wanda twist me around her little finger. I tried to explain that returning to school early was for the best. I told her about some archives I wanted to investigate. With most of the student population away, the learning center would be quiet for once. Also, I wanted to roam the town of Pontiac. Marcy didn't understand this at all. I could tell that she was disappointed that I wouldn't be coming to her house. What I didn't tell her was that I needed to go back to school early so I could squelch my urge to call Cindy.

"Wanda has you under her spell. I wonder if she paints her toenails green," Marcy quipped.

"I'll let you know as soon as I find out," I said and heard Marcy groan.

That afternoon Ned took me to the tux shop to be measured because this was the only time I was going to be home before the wedding. I congratulated him on the marriage and I suppose he thought I needed some explanation. "It's not going to change anything. We've been sleeping together for years. That part can't get any better," he confided.

Jessica called me on Saturday morning, wanting to know if I would take her to see a movie. I was very agreeable on the condition that I didn't have to pick her up at the Baldwin home. She understood that I didn't want to see Cindy. "I'll pick you up," she said.