Chapter 16: Back to School

It was dark when I reached the parking lot in back of the dress shop. I was still shaking, but glad to be alive. I backed into my usual spot, and went upstairs without even trying to open the trunk to retrieve my travel bag.

The apartment was spotless, evidence that Gladys and Victor had been there.

"What happened?" Kelley asked as soon as she heard my voice. I'd been on the road nearly double the time it should have taken to make the trip.

I saw no need in trying to fool her. "The road was slick. I skidded into a truck."

"Oh no, were you hurt?"

"I'm not hurt. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? You should go to the hospital and get an x-ray. You may have whiplash."

"Kelley?"

"Yes, Sammy?"

"I'm kind of shook up, but I'm not hurt. Please talk calmly to help me calm down."

"Do you want me to come there?"

"No, Honey, I want you to listen to me tell you what happened. You'll see that I'm fine."

Kelley let me describe the weather conditions, and how the accident occurred. "My car suffered some damage. I'll need to find a body shop that can get the parts," I said, already planning to contact Ollie to see where I should take the car to have the repair work done.

"Are you really all right?" she asked.

I assured her that I would be okay, and that I wanted to have the car repaired as soon as possible. Kelley told me to get a good night's sleep and promised to call me the following night.

Ollie said he knew the owner of a body shop that he trusted to do a good job. We made arrangements to take the car for an estimate the next day at two PM, after he finished his shift. He warned me that I needed to have my insurance company approve the work before I gave his friend the okay to proceed.

I went downstairs to get the insurance document out of the car, and when I got back upstairs the telephone was ringing. It was Kent.

"Do you have some wine?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered, reasonably sure I had a couple of bottles of merlot left.

"Laura's leaving tomorrow. Amy's making pasta for supper. You're invited if you'll bring the wine."

"How many are coming?"

"Just you and Charlie, that makes eight of us."

"Okay, I'll bring the wine," I said, and called Charlie to ask him to pick me up on his way to Kent and Amy's house.

He didn't question why I needed a ride, and I didn't mention the accident. When he arrived, I crawled into the back seat.

"Hi," Megan said.

"Hi," I said, putting my arm around her. She put her head on my shoulder.

The pasta turned out to be ziti, served in soup bowls, with thick sauce poured over the soft pasta. Amy explained that she didn't make spaghetti because they only had four chairs, and since we couldn't sit at the table, we would have to hold the bowls in one hand.

Everyone was dressed casually in jeans and sweatshirts. We sat on the floor and ate pasta out of soup bowls with soup spoons and drank wine from water glasses.

Kent held court, asking each of us how we had spent our time away from school. Charlie and Debra went first. Debra did most of the talking, telling us how they drove from one motel to the next, and stopping occasionally to tour an attraction. "We stayed one night in my room and had lunch with Charlie's parents the next day before we came back here."

"We were anxious to come back, too," Kent said.

"You guys didn't go home?" Megan asked.

Kent shook his head, and Amy grinned. "The lovebirds wanted to come back," she said, pointing to Skip and Laura.

Megan was next. I could see that she was reluctant to talk about her time at home. "I caught up with some old friends. That's about it," she said.

I'm sure everyone was as curious as I was as to why she hadn't mentioned Mel, but we respected her privacy. None of us asked what day she had returned to school.

"How was Nantucket?" Kent asked me.

I'm sure my description of Ingrid standing naked in the bathtub would have amused everyone, but I didn't want to share my memory of Uncle Isaac sitting in his wheelchair with the cat in his lap. "The view of the ocean from the front room was fantastic. We may go back next summer," I said, then, to divert their attention from the island, "I had an accident on the way back to school this afternoon."

It worked. "What happened?" everyone asked at the same time.

"A truck pulled onto the road, and I skidded into it," I said.

I was bombarded with questions. "Were you hurt? Was your car damaged? What kind of truck was it? Was the other driver injured? Was it a man or a woman? Did he have passengers? Where did this happen? Why didn't you call us?"

This was turning into a circus. Why hadn't I told them about the failing brakes on the Jeep, and how efficiently Ingrid had operated the vehicle?

I didn't know where to begin. Skip, seeing my loss for words, got up and came back with a toy car. "Show us what happened," he said, handing me the car.

"I was going up a hill," I said, rolling the car along an imaginary road on the floor.

"You need a hill," Skip said, propping a Readers Digest on his bowl.

"Don't use that bowl," Laura said as she ran to the kitchen. "I'll wash this one."

"Now we need a truck," Skip said as he placed Readers Digests on either side of the upturned bowl. "What kind of truck was it?"

"It was a long flatbed. There were a few bales of hay on it. The kid was taking them across the road to feed his dad's cattle. The back of my car slid underneath the bed of the truck."

Skip was really getting into the reenactment of my accident. He fashioned a truck from a match box by removing the portion containing the matches, and cutting a notch out of the outer sleeve.

I demonstrated how I had hit the brakes and spun my car one hundred and eighty degrees, knocking out the rear window. "If I hadn't spun around I would have been decapitated," I theorized.

"Did you notify the police?" Skip asked.

"Skip, we were a hundred miles from nowhere. I don't even know what county I was in. The kid said it was his fault for pulling out in front of me."

"That's what they all say at the time. His dad will see it differently. You should have called the police," Skip said.

"You're probably right," I conceded, wondering why he was being relentless. Was he trying to impress Laura?

"Were you speeding?" Skip persisted.

"Yeah, I was doing twenty-five in a sixty-five mile per hour zone," I said, sarcastically.

"You should go back to the scene. Do you think you'll be able to find it again? How far is it? I'll take you. We'll go tomorrow. I'll be out of class at three," he offered.

I explained that I was taking the car to a body shop at two. "Anyway, there was no damage to his truck," I said, trying to reason with him.

"The kid may already be wearing a neck brace. We'll pick one up for you on the way," Skip said. Was he serious?

"Take a camera with you, Skip. Take a picture of the dueling neck braces," Kent said, getting a laugh from everyone, except me and Megan.

I let Skip talk me into going to the scene of the accident. We agreed to meet at my apartment when I got back from taking the car to the body shop.

The party broke up early. Laura was leaving the next morning and the rest of us were starting our second quarter classes. As we left, I looked down at the accident scene. One of the Readers Digests had slipped off the bowl, taking the cardboard truck with it. The toy car was perched precariously atop the other Readers Digest.

When we reached my apartment, Charlie got out of his car to survey the damage to my car. Debra and Megan joined us. In addition to the back window missing, the trunk lid was dented and the window frame looked like it was out of alignment. I banged on the trunk lid and it flew open. I removed my bag and discovered the trunk lid would not stay closed. I sat on the lid, and when it still wouldn't close, Megan joined me, laughing as we tried to make the lock engage.

"You two can sit there all night as far as I'm concerned," Debra said, urging Charlie to take her home.

"I'm staying with Sammy," Megan said as she continued to bounce on the trunk lid.

"You don't have anything to sleep in," Debra argued.

Megan looked at me. "I should stay with Sammy in case he has a concussion. I have a toothbrush here and a hair brush in my purse. As for something to wear ... ah ... we'll ... improvise."

Debra gave up and got into the car with Charlie. We went upstairs and found two messages on the machine. I called Suzanne first. After hearing that I was all right, physically, she told me to fax all the information I had on the accident to Wally Fisk. "You know Wally. He handles the insurance for the company," she said.

I vaguely remembered Wally, but had never had any dealings with him. I agreed to comply and then asked, "Does the company own my car?"

"The car is in your name, but since you're an employee, the company pays for your auto insurance. We get a better rate," she said.

Suzanne was in a no nonsense mood. She didn't seem interested in hearing about my trip to Nantucket, nor did she elaborate about their Florida vacation. I wondered if Kelley had told her about Nantucket. I was certain that she had told Suzanne about my accident. How else would she have known about it?

I was already writing Wanda a message, telling her I was sending a fax to her because I didn't have Wally Fisk's fax number when Kelley answered her phone.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Kent had everyone over for a pasta supper. Laura is leaving tomorrow."

"Sammy, do you want me to come to Pontiac next weekend? I'll be happy to come if you need me."

"I'm meeting my dad at Omaha on Saturday. I guess I forgot to tell you."

After a pause, Kelley asked, "Do you want me to go with you?"

"It's not an overnight trip, Kelley. We're touring a building. We'll probably have a luncheon meeting and I'll come back here that afternoon."

"Is sleeping with me all you think about, Sammy? I know you consider me your mistress, but can't we just be together some times?"

"I thought you liked sleeping with me," I said without admitting that it was all I thought about. She had faked an orgasm a few nights before. Had she been faking her enjoyment of sleeping with me, too?

"I love sleeping with you. You seem testy tonight, Sammy. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm sure. Anyway, Megan is staying with me. She's watching for signs of a concussion," I said, having no idea what signs Megan would be looking for.

"Megan's there with you right now?"

"Yeah, it's just a precaution. I'm all right, really."

"Sammy?"

"Yes, Kelley?"

"Under no circumstances is she to wear the Florida shirt I bought for you. Do you understand?"

"I'll make sure she picks out something else to wear," I assured her.

"Am I your mistress?" she asked.

"You're my one and only. I'm in love with you, no one else," I said, and heard her sigh as we said goodbye.

I sent the fax to Wanda and was on my way to the bedroom when Megan came out of the bathroom. I did a double take when I saw the way her hair was in rollers. Her face was covered with white cream and she was wearing the Florida T-shirt.

"Oh," she said, hiding her face. "Please don't look at me. I thought I would be in bed before you came to bed."

I laughed and let her run to the bedroom ahead of me. I waited until I was sure that she was in the bed before going into the darkened room. I stripped down to my shorts and got under the covers. Megan was on the far side of the bed.

"I've never seen you roll your hair before."

"It's something I'm trying," she said. "Have you ever had a concussion? What should I check for?"

"I've had my bell rung a few times. My girlfriend stayed with me the night after a kid poked his fingernail through my cheek, but that was because my parents were away and the doctor said I shouldn't be alone."

"That's the scar in your cheek? How did it happen?"

"It was a football game when I was a junior. His fingernails were long and had dirt under them. The doctor gave me some strong pills to fight the chance of infection."

"That was nice of your girlfriend to stay with you."

"It was nice of her parents to let her," I said, thinking of how Mr. Baldwin had disagreed with Mrs. Baldwin about Cindy staying the night in my room.

"What was your girlfriend's name?"

"Cindy Baldwin."

"Do you still see her?"

"It's been years since I've seen Cindy. She got married right after she graduated from college."

"She was older than you?"

"Yeah, Cindy was a year ahead of me. There are two other Baldwin sisters. One is older than Cindy and Jeannie is younger."

"Sammy, do you think I should wake you during the night to make sure you're okay?"

"I don't think that's necessary. I got shook up, but didn't hit my head."

Megan did wake me, but not to check on my condition. I heard her crying.

I didn't know how long we'd been asleep. "Megan?"

"I'm sorry that I woke you."

"Come here."

"I've got goop on my face."

"It's okay. Come here."

I pulled her to me, and that's when she really let loose. Her whole body shook, uncontrollably. I didn't ask what was making her cry. The cream made her cheek slick, and there was a strange smell that I didn't recognize. The cream tasted horrible. I held her and let her cry. When she decided to talk, I had a hard time understanding her.

"He said I did it on purpose."

"Mel?" I asked, and felt the slimy cream slide between our cheeks as she nodded her head.

"What did he accuse you of doing?"

"I took the wrong bag home."

"The bag you had in the hotel room? So what? Didn't it have everything you needed?"

"I took the wrong bag. The one I left in Debra's room had my diaphragm in it."

"Oh," I said. 'Oh' is all I could think of to say. I didn't dare say more because I was afraid I would burst out laughing.

"He said I did it on purpose," she said, beginning to cry again.

I held her tightly, hoping I could keep from breaking up. How do you console a girl who forgot to take her diaphragm home for a holiday?

"It wasn't your fault. I saw the bags. They looked identical to me."

"I packed the diaphragm in the wrong bag." she whispered into my ear. I felt her hand on the back of my neck and her body pressed against mine. As was her custom, she pretended not to notice my erection.

At that point, my feeling for her was overpowering. I couldn't let her take the blame for taking the wrong bag home. "It could have happened to anyone," I said.

"No, it couldn't. Mel asked me why I'd brought the diaphragm to school in the first place."

I laughed, and felt her body give way. Was she laughing with me? I laughed again. Yes, I felt her body shake again, but this time she was laughing.

"You know, Sweetheart, it doesn't matter what others think. You know who you are, and I'm right there with you."

"Did you just call me Sweetheart?"