Chapter 20: An understanding woman

It was Sunday, December 30, 1990. We woke up to find it had snowed most of the night.

I went outside and helped Ned clean the steps and clear the snow around the garage doors where the snowplow had missed. Shirley followed us, snapping pictures with her new camera. Just as we were finishing, Mr. Oldham joined us, wanting to talk to me.

Ned thanked me for helping with the shoveling, excused himself and went upstairs. Shirley busied herself with photographing the snow while Mr. Oldham told me he had asked some people to meet that morning regarding the Atlanta building and wanted me to join them.

Well, so much for talking to Marcie as I had planned. We had breakfast, kissed the ladies goodbye and left. I was a little surprised to see John Oldham dressed the same as me, corduroy slacks, sweater, boots and leather coat. We drove my car.

The heat had been turned down because the office was technically closed for a few days. We made a pot of coffee and kept our coats on. Mr. Oldham opened the meeting by thanking us for coming in.

It soon became apparent to me that the news of my efforts in making the Atlanta building a reality had reached the company. In turn, Tom Pierce from engineering, Donna from accounting, and Wanda the analyst, each congratulated me on my success. I was almost certain that Donna, and certainly Wanda, surmised how I had accomplished the feat.

The meeting was short. As I later reported to Shirley, "Only two important points were made: Mr. Oldham announced that I will be the point man in Atlanta this summer and Patti Coffee will be my consulting architect."

Shirley, who was helping me get ready for my 'date' with Brenda, cringed.

"Whose idea was that?" she asked, sounding skeptical.

"My dad's"

"No you don't, I know it was his idea to send you back to Atlanta, that's not what I'm asking. You had a hand in hiring Patti, didn't you?"

"I suggested it and Mr. Oldham asked me to offer her the job," I admitted, modestly.

"And."

"I called her and she accepted."

"Me thinks Miss Patti Coffee is your next conquest. Am I correct?"

"Patti's still married."

"Still?"

I could see where this was going. Shirley was already inserting Patti into our reenactment schedule. I didn't mind Darien screwing Holly Collier, but Patti was beyond consideration. How could I coach Shirley to play Patti if I had no first-hand experience with her? Besides, she was 'still' a married woman.

"Wanda's available," I said, hoping to divert Shirley's attention from Patti.

"Oh?"

"I walked her to her car and she said the snow reminded her of the time we picked up Laura and Duane on the way to school. Wanda sat on the center consol and pretended to shave me with a domino. She practically begged me to shave her pussy and fuck her silly again."

My plan worked. Shirley shelved Patti for Wanda. "Pick up some condoms on your way home tonight," she suggested as she straightened my tie.

"You know I didn't use a condom with Wanda."

I felt the tie tighten around my neck and had to push Shirley away to keep from being strangled. "This Wanda wants protection. If Darien is to shave Wanda's pussy and fuck her silly tonight make sure you pick up some condoms while you're out."

I didn't argue with her. "Yes dear," I said and received a kiss as a reward for being agreeable.

My 'date' with Brenda went as planned, almost. She sat next to me at dinner and clearly enjoyed being the center of attention. She gave thoughtful answers to our questions and blushed when we told her how nice she looked. As promised, I took her upstairs to my room and helped her write and send an email to Marcie.

Dear Marcie,

I've been friends with Sammy as long as I can remember. How long have you been his friend? We're on a date and he brought me to his room. Have you ever been in his room? We danced together four times at my mother's wedding. How many times have you danced with Sammy?

I think I'm going to have a baby brother or sister soon? Do you have any brothers or sisters? Which is the most trouble?

I've got to stop now because Sammy says no more questions. It was nice to meet you.

Your friend,

Brenda

While we were waiting for Marcie to answer the email, Brenda fired several questions at me. "How far away does Marcie live? How do you know her? Do you think she'll write to me? Is she nicer than Shirley? I don't think Shirley likes me, do you?"

I was relieved when Marcie's message arrived.

Dear Brenda,

It's nice to make your acquaintance. I hope you're having a good time with Sammy. You're lucky, I've never been on a real date with him, but we've danced together lots of times. Does he still have toy soldiers on his walls?

I have two sisters and one brother. I hope you'll tell me when your baby sister or brother arrives. I'm sure you'll love it as much as I love my brother and sisters.

It was nice to meet you. Kiss Sammy for me, please.

Your friend,

Marcie

I printed Marcie's email for Brenda and the little girl was delighted to make a new friend. "I'll email her every day. May I have your email address too, Sammy?"

"One email a week would probably be often enough. Marcie's kind of busy."

"Are you busy, too?"

"I'm pretty busy."

"I'll only send you one email a week then," she said, sounding much older than her eight years.

"I'll be sure and answer your messages, but it won't be as fast as Marcie's answer. She was expecting your email."

Brenda watched as I typed a message to Cassie, but when there was no response she became restless.

"Who's this?"

I turned to see she had Becky's picture in her hand.

"That's a friend of mine."

"What's her name?"

"Becky."

"Why did you have her picture turned over?"

"I don't know."

"Did 'she' turn the picture over?"

"Shirley? No, I did it."

"Why?"

"I told you; I don't remember why I did it."

Brenda must have known she was trying my patience. She put the picture down and came to me.

"I'm sorry I made you sad, Sammy."

"It's okay. Becky was a long time ago."

"She's pretty."

"Yes, she is."

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Yes, I do. You have your mother's looks."

Somehow, we entertained each other for another hour without mentioning Becky again.

Shirley poked her head out of the sunroom as we were putting on our coats. I winked at her to show that I got the message; she was reminding me to pick up the condoms.

Alice stepped outside to greet us to the overwhelming objection of her daughter. "Mom, I haven't kissed Sammy yet."

Alice laughed. "I just saw you kiss him."

"That was Marcie's kiss. I haven't kissed him for me."

"Oh," Alice said, as if she understood her daughter.

I watched Alice retreat and leaned over to receive my second kiss from Brenda. "Thank you for a wonderful time," she said, grinning from ear to ear as she crossed paths with her mother.

Alice came back outside to talk for a minute. "Brrrr, it's cold out here."

"I hear Brenda's going to have a baby sister or brother," I said, rubbing her back and shoulders.

"I'm not pregnant yet, but I've been trying to prepare her, just in case."

"You've done a good job; I think she's looking forward to having a new baby brother or sister."

I felt a kiss on my cheek and she was gone, saying she would like to talk more, but it was too cold.

As I drove to the convenience store to pick up the condoms, it occurred to me that we didn't make love any more. All we did was to reenact my sexual experiences with others. While it was great sex, I wondered if role-playing was Shirley's way of avoiding having one-on-one sex with me. Was she so removed from reality that she actually believed Darien was going to shave Wanda's pussy and fuck her silly tonight?

We didn't get a chance to go upstairs and play Wanda and Darien until much later because Suzanne was in a talkative mood when I got home. She was making wedding plans.

Except for the honeymoon destination, everything about the wedding was tentative.

"John's taking me to Europe, but until we set the wedding date we can't make definite plans for the trip," Suzanne lamented.

Why was she making it more complicated than it had to be? I was about to suggest, 'set the date' when Shirley jumped to her feet. "Who wants more eggnog?" she asked, scurrying from the room before I had a chance to tell her I would like some eggnog.

Suzanne whispered to explain Shirley's swift departure. "She just told us she's not going to be here this summer."

While I was somewhat relieved that Shirley had broken the news about us, I wondered why Suzanne and Mr. Oldham didn't express sympathy for my loss. Should I read something meaningful in their indifference toward Shirley?

Only a few days ago Mr. Oldham had given me the responsibility to make the Atlanta deal happen and Suzanne had, without asking for specifics, given her stamp of approval for the method I had used to carry out the order. Now, she was accepting Shirley's farewell like it was part of a scheme. Was I being manipulated? Did they have other expectations of me?

Shirley returned to the sunroom with four mugs of eggnog on a tray, and from the way she winked at me as she handed me one of the mugs I knew she had a trick up her sleeve. One whiff of the thick liquid told me she had had given me an extra jigger of whiskey in my mug.

Much later, after discussing Suzanne's wedding plans ad nauseam, we escaped to my room.

Perhaps it was the way Suzanne and Mr. Oldham had accepted Shirley's announcement that she was going away to graduate school or it may have been the generous helpings of whiskey in my drinks, but I was disappointed with our performance that night.

For one thing, Shirley was too tall to play Wanda convincingly. Also, her pubic hair was so short that it only took a few minutes to shave her. Being a trooper she tried to duplicate Wanda's whiney plea; 'fuck me silly.'

We apologized to one another, admitting that Mr. Oldham and Suzanne's indifference to Shirley's announcement had left us in a sour mood, even blaming the whiskey for the sub-par way we had done Wanda and Darien. Although I didn't use it as an excuse, having to wear the condom really was distracting to me and I suspect to Shirley as well.

"Holly and Darien will be better," Shirley predicted. "Tomorrow, I want you to tell me everything again and we'll study our parts on the way back to school. When are we leaving?"

I had planned on waiting until the weekend, Saturday at the earliest. We still had Jeanie's New Years party and I wanted to talk to Mr. Oldham about my responsibilities as 'point man' for the Atlanta building.

"How about Wednesday, the second of January?" I asked, knowing that she was anxious to leave the Oldham household behind.

"That will be splendid. Perhaps you can see a doctor in Pontiac," she suggested. We went to sleep in agreement; go back to school, make sure Holly Collier hadn't given me the clap and to substitute her diaphragm for the condoms.

We woke to find an email from Cassie, saying her family was in the midst of packing. She wasn't looking forward to changing schools, but the rest of the Fenton family couldn't wait to move to their new home in Atlanta. She wanted to know if I was coming to Atlanta this summer.

At breakfast, Suzanne wanted to know what everyone was going to do that day. Shirley spoke up first, saying she was going to read and relax until it was time to get ready for Jeannie's party. I was planning to catch up on my correspondence, but before I said anything Mr. Oldham asked me to go for a walk with him. Well, my plans were foiled again; my phone call to Marcie would have to wait until later.

Suzanne informed us that she and John were going to the club for an early dinner and invited us to go along. Shirley surprised us by showing interest in having dinner with them, making me wonder if she was angling to skip Jeannie's New Years Eve party.

"We'll still make it to the party by nine-thirty," she said, looking around the table to get everyone's agreement that it would, as Suzanne had said, indeed be an early dinner.

"Get your boots, Sam and meet me at the back door in ten minutes," Mr. Oldham ordered.

Shirley followed me upstairs. "What do you think he wants to talk about?"

"I hope he's going to explain my Atlanta assignment."

"Possibly, but I suspect he wants to talk to you about me."

"What?" I asked, letting her distract me from lacing my boots.

Shirley was sprawled out on my bed, lazily watching me. "They know I'm not staying at Pontiac next year and this is my last trip home with you. He may want to warn you not to try to change my mind about leaving, to end our romance and let me go."

"Stop! I don't want to hear any more of that kind of talk. He doesn't... he's never talked to me about..."

"Okay, I'll stop, maybe I'm wrong," she said, holding up both hands to indicate she was sincere. She watched in silence as I finished lacing my boots.

"Why did you agree to have dinner with them?" I asked, suspiciously.

"They've been very nice to me and I want to show there are no hard feelings on my part. Make sure they know we're leaving on Wednesday, okay?" she asked as she jumped off the bed to give me a goodbye kiss.

As it turned out, Shirley was right. Mr. Oldham had a speech prepared and began talking the minute we were outside. Naturally, we headed across the street toward the park.

"I hope that business in Atlanta didn't spook Shirley."

"No, Sir, she was very understanding about that," I answered, trying my best to remain serious.

He chuckled and I let my lips relax into a grin.

"An understanding woman is hard to find. I hope you aren't giving up on her, Sammy."

It was my turn to chuckle. "It's more like she's giving up on me."

"Her decision not to stay at Pontiac for her grad work had nothing to do with Atlanta?"

"No, Sir. She didn't even apply to West Pontiac."

"Oh?"

We were half way around the park, walking in the street because the running track hadn't been plowed. Was it expected that I answer his 'oh?' prompt?

"It happened three months ago. Her roommate told me that an old boyfriend was annoying Shirley with letters and phone calls. I went to her hometown and put a stop to the harassment. This pissed her off and we broke up for six weeks until I got the flu and she took care of me."

Mr. Oldham stopped in his tracks. We were standing in the middle of the street, looking at each other. I watched him shake his head in amazement, a slight smile on his face.

"An understanding woman is impossible to understand. She broke up with you for coming to her aid and she stood by you when you committed the despicable act of bedding someone else."