Chapter 21: Parting- Letting go

We slept until after ten A.M. on the first of January, 1991, and would have stayed in bed longer if it hadn't been for Jeannie's telephone call. She first berated me for being a poor lookout to which I replied that I blamed her parents for being so quiet. "They must have been trying to catch us in the act."

"What made Shirley scream like a banshee?" Jeannie asked.

"I'll let her tell you," I answered, handing the phone to Shirley.

I dressed quickly and left the room, but not before hearing Shirley repeat what she had said about me earlier that morning, "That's what I love about Sammy. He's so fucking predictable."

The house was deserted. I made a pot of coffee, scrambled eggs with toast for myself and had finished eating by the time Shirley came downstairs. She drained a glass of orange juice before proceeding to tell me what she and Jeannie had talked about.

"Jeannie heard my first scream, went to the window and saw her parents getting out of the car. She ran back to the bed and woke up the others. They made the bed, dressed quickly and came downstairs just in time."

"Back up. What was that about Jeannie running back to the bed and waking the others?"

Shirley turned from the toaster and smiled, knowingly. "I'm glad to hear you were paying attention. Yes, all four of them were in Jeannie's bed."

"Naked?"

"Yes."

"All four of them were under the covers?"

"Yes."

"Naked?"

Shirley grinned. "Why don't you ask what you really want to know, Sammy? Yes, they had sex, first with Celia on top of Eddie and then with Josh on top of Jeannie and yes, they watched each other."

"Celia was on top?"

"Jeannie said it was the hottest thing she's ever seen. She said Celia was already sucking Eddie's cock before Jeannie and Josh finished. She blames you."

"What does she blame me for?"

"Is someone blaming you, Sammy? What did you do?"

I looked behind me to see Suzanne heading for the coffeemaker. "Nothing, Suz, I didn't do anything."

"He was dancing with a girl and they got carried away," Shirley said, making Suzanne stop pouring coffee and look at us in dismay.

"Really? Tell me more."

I backed out of the kitchen, saying I needed to use the bathroom, but as I walked out I heard Shirley, "The girl had her legs wrapped around his waist and they were..."

I didn't care how much Shirley told Suzanne about the party, she could even exaggerate for all I cared as long as I didn't have to hear it. This was my chance to talk to Marcie.

"Hi, did Santa bring you everything you wanted?"

"Don't you want to hear about Atlanta?"

"Is Shirley there?"

"She's downstairs, talking to Suzanne."

"Then tell me. How did you make out in Atlanta?"

"I 'made out' really well. Everything went as planned."

"Ah! I heard you followed my suggestion and Shirley was okay with it."

"She's surprisingly okay with it, except that she's making me wear a condom."

"Bummer."

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Condoms? You haven't forgotten how to put them on, have you?"

"No, not condoms, she's a little too okay with it. In fact, she wants to hear all the details and reenact everything. It's getting kind of scary."

I heard a long sigh.

"Sammy, you're so fucking self-centered it makes me sick. You have a girlfriend who not only understands, but she lets you screw around and then wants to do it the very same way with you. Don't you ever think of anyone but yourself?"

"What's wrong, sweetheart? What did I do?"

"It's what you didn't do. You called me from Atlanta to ask for my advice and you never thought to thank me. It's all about you, Sammy. You never ask how I am."

This wasn't like Marcie. She never complained, not to me. "I didn't thank you because I didn't think it would work and when it did work I guess I forgot. Thank you for the advice, but as you may recall, I told you I loved you when we hung up. Doesn't that count for something?"

"I guess it does."

"How are you?"

"I'm getting fat. Thanks for asking."

"Marcie, are you all right? Do you need a hug?"

"I need you to ask me to dance."

"I'll be there in an hour," I said, hanging up before she could object.

It was a quarter to twelve as I passed through the kitchen. Suzanne and Shirley were laughing so hard that they hardly noticed as I said I was going out for awhile.

I was in the car before I realized that I hadn't bothered to shave or change clothes. I had, however, worn my boots and leather jacket over the same corduroy slacks and sweater that I had worn to the party the night before.

It was nearing one P.M. when I arrived at the stone fortress the Cochran family called home. Marcie opened the door, looking wistfully anxious, like she couldn't believe it was me. If she had gained weight it was well concealed under the pink running outfit she was wearing. Even her sneakers were pink.

"You're really here," she whispered as I wrapped my arms around her and drew her close.

"You feel good." Actually, what I was feeling was the soft material on her back. She felt small and if I wasn't mistaken, she was trembling.

Marcie stiffened and pulled back. "Are you... alone?"

"Yes," I answered and felt her settle back into my arms.

"Is this the hero we're waiting for? Introduce us, Marcie, and let's have lunch. I'm starving."

I opened my eyes to see an older version of Marcie. She was holding a small boy. Marcie turned and without releasing her grip on my shoulder, "Sammy, this is Margo, my sister and the little tyke is Tobias. Margo, this is Sammy Oldham, my best friend in the whole world."

"I'm glad to meet you, Sammy. Can we eat now?" Margo asked.

The atmosphere in the dining room was different than it had been during my last visit to the Cochran home. I attributed the change to the absence of Benjamin, Marcie's over-protective older brother.

It soon became apparent that Marcie had briefed her parents on my course of study at Pontiac and my involvement in my dad's business. After they reviewed what their daughter had told them about me, the conversation turned to the United Nations arms build up in the Middle East and the likelihood that we would soon be at war with Iraq. I was reminded that the Cochran family business was mainly related to defense although they also had a line of recreational camping gear.

I had eaten eggs and toast only a couple of hours earlier so I wasn't very hungry. When I declined dessert, cheesecake topped with fresh strawberries, Marcie turned it down too. "Sammy can't stay long," she said as she took me by the hand and led me toward the door. There was no objection from her parents as we left the room.

Upstairs, in her room, she first pushed a button to start a tape and then pointed to the open door, explaining that it was expected. I followed her lead, removed my shoes and took my place on her bed. We lay on our sides, facing each other.

"Pretend there's a wall of glass between us," she said, placing her open hand on the imaginary glass.

"How thick is the glass?" I asked, wanting to know how much distance to leave between our hands.

"It's very thin," she whispered as her fingers barely touched mine.

We lay that way, on our sides, facing each other with our open hands touching. I tried to match her smiling eyes, but I was in a somber mood and couldn't. I concentrated on the moment, felt her small finger pulse against mine, heard the music play from across the room, felt her ring finger pulse, and watched her eyes twinkle.

I was consumed with the love I felt for her and would have taken her in my arms if it had not been for the imaginary glass wall that separated us. "Would you like to dance?"

"You must ask me properly."

She giggled as I jumped off the bed and stood at attention. "Miss Cochran, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

"I would be delighted to dance with you, Cadet Oldham."

We danced for the next hour, moving to the music in our stocking feet, smiling at each other from a respectable distance.

"This is the last dance. I have to leave soon," I said, pulling her close as was permitted by CromwellMilitaryAcademy rules.

Our bodies became one, except for our hearts, which beat loudly, but separately. I ran my hands over her back, down to her ass, satisfying myself that she was indeed, thin.

"You're not fat."

"I had to see you."

"It may be a long time before we see each other again."

"It's okay. I'll have this dance to remember us together."

The music came to an end, as if to signal it was time for me to leave. I didn't kiss her. I think she understood why; a kiss would have broken the glass.

"Sammy's leaving," Marcie called to anyone who was within earshot. Mr. and Mrs. Cochran came to the entrance, followed by Margo. I thanked Mrs. Cochran for the lunch and shook hands with everyone, including Marcie. She smiled, but didn't walk out to the car with me. As I drove home I thought about our time together; we didn't really talk. We had been together and that was enough.

I had to volunteer to Shirley where I had been because she didn't ask. My attempt to explain precisely what had taken place between Marcie and me was met with disinterest. She said she was glad Marcie and I had had the short time together.

The next morning Suzanne surprised us. She got up early to see us off. I believe the two women knew this was the last time they would see each other. They hugged goodbye. It stuck me that, just when Shirley was saying farewell to me, Suzanne had accepted her and they had become friends.

"We'll see you in March, Honey," Suzanne said to me as she gave me a final hug.

On our return trip to school Shirley used the time to quiz me about Holly, to which I supplied every detail of the day and two nights we had cavorted throughout her house.

"Does she have any identifying marks, you know, warts between her toes or scars on her backside?"

"No," I responded and saw sadness come into Shirley's eyes that made me want to please her. "She has a tattoo though."

"Really? Where is it?"

"Her breast."

"Which one?"

"Left."

"It's on her left tit? Where, exactly? What kind of tattoo is it?" Shirley asked, excitedly. I wondered if she really believed me or if she merely wanted to add another dimension to the reenactment.

"'I K' is almost centered, about an inch above her nipple."

"'I K'? Is that all? What does I K stand for?"

"She was doing it for her first husband, but it was so painful that she couldn't let the tattooist finish. That's why it's not quite centered. She wouldn't let him add the E."

It would be the following Monday night before we were able to do Holly and Darien because it took that long for Shirley to make a short red skirt and for me to get the lab results proving that I was clean and free of STDs.

We did the hotel scene first and I nearly lost my composure when I spotted a paper tattoo taped to her left breast. Shirley admitted later that she knew I was making up the story and we never used the fake tattoo again.

"Was Holly's first husband really named Ike?"

"I don't know. We never discussed his name, only that he was poor and she didn't like poor."

"Thank you for trying, sweetheart. Holly and I have a lot in common; we don't like tattoos and we don't like poor."

I resumed the same schedule as before, classes, working out three afternoons, running twice a week, pizza on Friday nights, and working for Luke on Saturdays. Shirley attended class, had breakfast with her group and we did Holly and Darien often. She ate dinner with us before going to the library; otherwise, I hardly ever saw her. She said it was too cold to run.

I talked to her about her obsession with the library, told her I was concerned that she was losing weight and urged her to relax a bit. As a concession to me, she didn't rush off to the library on Friday nights, seemingly having a good time with me and the other three couples.

But giving up her Friday nights at the library meant canceling our Saturday night dates, seeing a movie or going to a party. I refused to go to the movies with Charlie and Tammy, but I didn't mind going to a party alone. I encouraged Shirley to join me at the parties after the library closed and sometimes she did. Other times I would leave the party early and find her slumped over her study-desk, too sleepy to find her own way to bed.

There was a lot of talk around the campus about Kuwait being liberated. The invasion of Iraq seemed so far away, yet brought so near by television. Marcie sounded ashamed when she told me her family was profiting from the war.

"The war was the reason Benny and Margo's husband weren't at home the day you came to my house. They were planning how they could rush all the new orders through the plant."

"Margo's husband is involved in the business? Is that a pre-requisite to marry a Cochran girl? Is your husband going to have to work for Benjamin?"

"If I marry my husband will work for Benny. If I don't marry I'll probably end up working for him."

Was there more to it that what she was telling me? What if she married a medical doctor or a politician? Would he be expected to work for Benny? It was none of my business so I didn't ask.

February the twentieth came and went without celebrating our birthdays as planned. Shirley said we would go to Stella's for dinner on March the twentieth, my birthday.

"You're not having much fun," I would say.

"After you come back from Atlanta we'll have a new game to play. That will be fun," she answered.

"Come with me," I practically begged, but to no avail. She was staying in Pontiac to work on a paper.

We finished the second quarter and Shirley drove me to the airport to catch my flight on Sunday afternoon. "Pay attention. I want to hear every detail," were her parting words.

Holly's house was exactly like I remembered from two months ago, except that she wasn't there. I called home to say I had arrived safely and to give them the phone number. We arranged for me to pick them up at the airport the next morning.

I dialed the number Patti had written on the back of her business card. There was no answer so I called the Fenton home, hoping to speak to Cassie. Neill answered and invited me to come to their house for dinner, jokingly saying that he would be doing the cooking, outside.

Next, I called the apartment to tell Shirley that the flight had gone smoothly. There was no answer so I had to leave a message. I didn't really expect her to be there. Charlie and Tammy had left for home the day before so she would be spending spring break alone in the apartment.

The Fenton apartment was on the third floor, overlooking a sports complex. Neill had set up a charcoal grill on the balcony. He and Doris looked the same as when I had seen them last, and Claudia, now eighteen, hadn't changed much either, but Cassie, Wow! I couldn't keep my eyes off of her.

After putting away two hamburgers, corn or the cob and a gallon of iced tea, Cassie and I took a walk. She said she wanted to show me the soccer field and for appearance sake, we took a ball.

"Claudia has a new boyfriend," she said as soon as we were outside the building.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Cassie shot me a look that was half-disgust, half-blush. "No."

She was trying hard to maintain her tomboy status, but her budding breasts were betraying her. They weren't exactly exploding, but there was no hiding them any longer.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you, Cass."

"I know you didn't," she said as she dropped the ball and tapped it with her toe, sending it rolling toward a telephone pole.

"Are you playing on a team?"

"I'm on two teams, one at school and one sponsored by a business. They're older kids and we play at night. Will you come see me play?"

"Sure, when is your next game?"

"Tomorrow night, right here," she said, pointing to the soccer field.

We kicked the ball around until it became too dark to see it and then walked back to the apartment building. She looked up, startled at first when I took her hand, but smiled to her self and walked beside me, silently enjoying the evening air.

I didn't go back upstairs with her, saying goodnight at the door. When I got back to Holly's house and started my computer there were three emails waiting. I opened Cassie's first.

I liked it when you called me Cass. Thanks.

Brenda's message was even shorter than Cassie's.

Dear Sammy,

I'm getting a baby sister.

Brenda

I tried Patti's number again before opening Marcie's email. There was still no answer.

Hi, sweetie-

What's new in my life? I'm glad you asked. My roommate, Saber, (that's what I call her because she's thin, like a blade) and I went to a party the other night and we both got hit on. Wouldn't you know, hers weighs two hundred and forty pounds and fat girl gets a weakling with a pony-tail? Wayne (pony-tail) got mad when I wouldn't put out, but not half as mad as Saber got. She was really pissed.

Shirley says she expects big things from you when you come back from Atlanta. Which one are you going to make it with, Patti or Dianna?

Hint: use a condom this time.

Love you, always,

Marcie