Chapter 8: Megan Freeman

Patricia was in a jovial mood when she dropped me off at the apartment. "That was fun. We should take our clothes off and have another long talk sometime," she said.

I was tempted to tell her that I was sorry we hadn't fucked. It would have been true. "I enjoyed our goodnight kiss," I said.

She promised to come to the pizza party on Friday night, and we parted friends. I hadn't fulfilled my goal to make Kenny regret that he'd forced himself on my girlfriend. After my long talk with Patricia, retaliating didn't seem as important as it had before.

I went into the apartment to find that Gladys had been there. In addition to thoroughly cleaning the place, my bed had been changed, and she had done my laundry. There was a Federal Express package on the kitchen table. It was from Wanda, and marked for Saturday delivery. I took it with me to my study room where I checked the answering machine.

There were four messages. Kelley was apologetic; "Traveling is such a hassle. I'm sorry I didn't get back in time to go with you. Will you forgive me, honey? Please call me as soon as you hear this."

There was urgency in her voice that made me hesitate. I told myself to think before I dialed her number. What was she saying? Did I have reason to be angry that she didn't make the trip to my hometown with me? No, there had to be a valid reason for the delay in Seattle. Should I tell her that Patricia had gone with me? No, that was better left until we were face to face. Should I tell her about our goodnight kiss? No, she wouldn't understand that I'd done it for her. That was the reason, wasn't it?

"Hello?"

"You sound..."

"How do I sound?"

In truth, she sounded tentative, hollow ... uncertain. "You sound like you're painting your toenails ... you know ... leaning forward, concentrating ... forgetting to breathe."

"You would be wrong."

"You're in the pool and were at the far end when you heard the phone ring. You knew it was me, and you swam rapidly to answer it."

"You're close, but I'm not in the pool either."

We were silent for a few seconds. Why was she being evasive? Why didn't she tell me why she sounded ... distant? I was opening the package from Wanda and cracked up.

"What's funny?" Kelley asked, suspiciously.

"I just opened a package from Wanda. She sent a pair of red shorts with yellow smiley faces, like the ones Roscoe was wearing when I pulled his pants down. There are notes from Wanda and her mother," I explained. I read the two notes to Kelley. Edith wrote that she hated me, but thanked me for suggesting that Wanda hire a private detective. Wanda's note was more informative. The private detective had discovered that Roscoe Arrow-Smith's real name was Aaron Roscoe. He was legally married and was wanted for evasion of federal income taxes for the years 1989 through 1991. Edith had kicked Roscoe out of her home, contacted his wife, and given the private detective a generous bonus for his work.

Kelley found Wanda's note amusing. "I can't wait to see you wear the shorts," she said.

"Does that mean you'll be here on Friday?" I asked. She said she would be on the two o'clock flight, and we ended the call. It struck me as strange that she hadn't asked about my trip. Could it be that she wasn't interested in knowing my mother, half-sister and nephew? She may have known that I had other calls to return, but she hadn't asked.

Before making my next call, I phoned the local florist and ordered flowers to be sent to Alice. I wrote a brief note, thanking her for suggesting that Wanda hire a private investigator, and got it ready to mail.

Next, I returned Suzanne's call. "How's Jane? Did you take pictures of K.O.? Is your sister getting her life together?" she asked in rapid succession. I gave her a brief rundown on the state of my family, knowing that wasn't the reason for her call.

"I guess you heard about Edith? I hope you thanked Alice for her advice," Suzanne said.

"I sent flowers and a note," I assured her.

"What kind?"

"Yellow, long-stemmed roses."

After a pause, Suzanne voiced her approval. "You did a good job, all around, honey."

"Thanks, Suz," I said. I was typing an email message to Wanda, thanking her for the shorts.

"Your father was pleased with the outcome," Suzanne said, and after another pause, "We both were."

"Kelley didn't get home from the west coast in time to go with me."

"Oh?" Suzanne responded, like she knew there was more.

"I already had the second ticket, so I took someone else."

"Oh, Sammy," Suzanne said, feigning disappointment. "Was it Megan Freeman by any chance?"

"No, it was someone else, but please don't say anything to Kelley. I haven't told her yet."

I could tell that Suzanne wanted to scold me for withholding information from Kelley. I told her about the shorts Wanda had sent, and got her to laugh as we ended the call.

Victor came in just as I was dialing Marcie's number. He indicated that he wanted to talk, but retreated to the front room when he saw that I was on the phone.

Marcie's questions were very similar to Suzanne's. "Has your mother changed much? Did you take pictures of the little boy? Did you see your sister?"

I told her that nothing had changed. Heather was still complaining about everything, and her boyfriend was still a bellhop in the hotel. I guess she could tell that I was hiding something, but she didn't challenge me to tell her what it was.

I steered the conversation to Adam. "We went to a coffeehouse with his friends. There was a one act play, and then a folk singer entertained us."

"What went wrong?" I'd heard it in her voice.

"Everything was horrid. I didn't care for Adam's friends, the play was idiotic, and I drank too much coffee. They expect you to order another cup during every break, and I got sick on the rich dessert they serve."

For once, Marcie was spouting off, and I was happy to listen to her vent. "What you need is a foot massage. It works wonders with Kelley."

"I wish you were here right now. You could give me one. I don't think Adam would even want to touch my feet."

"You'll have to come here unless you can wait until Thanksgiving. We plan to stop in Boston on our way to Nantucket."

I was surprised to hear her answer. "Hmmm, that's tempting. I'll have to come when Kelley isn't there. I wouldn't want her or Adam to see you rubbing my feet," she said, sounding serious.

"Marcie?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"You know that you have to remove your shoes and socks, don't you?"

"Mr. Oldham," Marcie said in a shocked tone that made me smile. "You do know that I'm a Wellesley girl, don't you?"

I was happy to hear her sounding chipper, but I had one more call to answer, and I wanted to prepare for the week ahead. "If you're serious about coming to see me, the sixth of November would be good for me."

"Would Kelley mind?"

My initial response was, 'Yes, she would mind.' "No, she told me to bring an air mattress in case you came for a visit. I only have one bed now that I turned the second bedroom into a study."

"Thanks for cheering me up, Sammy. I'll let you know about coming for a ... ah ... foot massage."

A thousand questions flooded my mind as we said goodbye. It was exciting to hear that she might come to Pontiac for a weekend. There was so much I wanted to talk to her about. What would she tell Adam? Would he object to her spending a weekend with me?

I was anxious to return the fourth call, but I went into the front room to see what Victor wanted. He seemed nervous.

"Would you mind if I stay here tonight?" he asked.

"Not at all, but you can't stay tomorrow night because I have Casey and Kalian coming."

"I know," he said, watching me closely, like there was something more on his mind.

"Victor, you can stay here most nights, but not this weekend. Kelley's going to be here."

He nodded, still not releasing me from his stare. I became impatient, wanted to return Megan's call.

"I need to pick up my books," he said.

"Take my car," I offered, and turned back to my study, stopping when I heard him clear his throat, making me turn back to see what else was on his mind.

"Do you think Neill will need me next summer?"

I laughed. "Victor, this is October. There's no new construction planned, and I don't expect things to change by next summer. If we pick up a distressed building I'm sure Neill will be able to use you."

He nodded his understanding, smiling nervously. "I'm hoping to be able to afford this apartment next year. I could get a roommate, and Gladys will help with the expenses."

I felt for him and, thinking that I knew what it must be like to need a summer job, I tried to ease his mind. "Let me see what I can do, Vic."

He didn't say anything, but from the way he smiled, I knew that he appreciated my offer. He left to pick up his books, and I went back to my study to call Megan. Charlie answered. "She and Deb went someplace, shopping, I think," he informed me.

"Tell her I returned her call, please," I said and was going to hang up when I heard him clear his throat.

"Are you ... busy?" he asked.

With Kelley coming for the weekend and Marcie's possible visit the following weekend, I needed to hit the books so I would be free to entertain them. "No, not really," I said.

"Can I come over?" he asked.

"Sure."

"Deb took my car so I'll have to wait until they get back," he said. Charlie wasn't a runner and I guess he didn't consider walking the mile and a half distance.

"Victor took my car or I'd come and pick you up."

Charlie said he would tell Megan that I called and we made arrangements for him to come to the apartment if they got back soon. I set about preparing for the next week of classes, but found that it was difficult to concentrate.

When should I tell Kelley that Patricia had gone with me to visit my family? I would have to tell her before the Friday night party. Everyone had heard Patricia offer to go with me. They had also heard me accept her offer. How was I going to explain it to Kelley? Did I need to tell her about our goodnight kiss? No, definitely not. It meant nothing. That settled, I opened my Psychology textbook and became so consumed with the assignments that I didn't hear Victor come in. The ringing telephone, however, startled me.

"Hello?"

"Sammy? Did I wake you?"

Megan's question made me laugh. "No, I was studying," I said.

"I'll make it quick then. Would you have time to help me with an Accounting problem?"

"Sure, do you want me to pick you up?"

"Not tonight. Charlie's coming to see you. I was thinking about tomorrow night?"

I jumped at the chance to see her again. "How about coming for dinner? We'll get you started on Accounting, and you can work on that while I meet with Casey and Kalian."

"What are you having?" she asked, teasingly.

"Beef stroganoff," I said, without thinking.

"That's my favorite. What time?"

"Any time you want to come will be fine. It's from a package," I warned her.

"That's my favorite," she repeated. I loved hearing her voice and hated to have to tell her that Charlie had entered the room. He'd even closed the door behind him. He took a seat and waited for me to finish the call. Her voice was still lingering in my ear when I looked across the desk at Charlie.

Charlie Evans was probably my best male friend. We'd known each other since our freshman year at Cromwell Military Academy. We been two freshmen in a room with five upper classmen, and roomed together in college, until this year when Debra Simmons and Megan Freeman came to Pontiac. I'd gotten Charlie laid his first time. Hell, I'd even fucked his mother a few times. I could always tell when he was upset about something.

"Deb's pregnant," he began.

I marked my place in the book I'd been studying, and set it aside. Did Megan know? Why hadn't she warned me? How should I react to this news? What did he want me to say?

"How does Debra feel about it?" I asked, and saw his jaw drop, aghast. Debra had Megan to console her. I guess Charlie had come to me with expectations of receiving the same treatment. Still, my question was not unreasonable. He just didn't get it. Debra's feelings would dictate how I would advise him. If she was happy, he should be happy. If she was unhappy, he should support her.

Over the years, I'd learned his moods. He'd never confided in me, but I had learned to read his mind. Suddenly, it came to me, and rather than play twenty questions, I decided to save time by putting it all into words. "It's your Dad, isn't it? Debra's happy and wants to get married, but you've been afraid to commit. You know your mother and step-father will accept your decision, and Debra's parents are no problem either. They'll act surprised, but not for long. They know their daughter is sharing your bed. It's your Dad's reaction to the news that's making the decision difficult. That's the first hurdle. Call him," I said, sliding the telephone across the desk.

Charlie looked at me, and then at the phone. When I saw him dialing the number, I got up, thinking that I would leave the room to give him some privacy. "Stay here," he said, and I saw that his hand was shaking as he dialed the number. We exchanged a glance; he forced a grin.

Not wanting to eavesdrop, I opened my book, pretending to read. But really, I was thinking of adjectives I could have used to describe Charlie Evans, Senior. Domineering, opinionated and unreasonable came to mind, and that was being kind.

As I listened to Charlie's side of the conversation, I realized that he was saying all the right things. It was as if I were putting words into his mouth. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Dad. I'm also sorry that I called you first. I'm going to propose to Deb, and if she accepts, we'll get married as soon as possible. You will receive an invitation, but if you choose not to attend, we'll understand."

I could tell that it was straining Charlie to maintain his cool. I half expected him to bark insults back at his father, but he held the receiver away from his ear, and sort of grinned at me. I grinned back. When he hung up, Charlie lifted the receiver and looked at me. "Do you mind if I call my mother?"

I shook my head, smiling, and watched him dial the number. We exchanged another glance. I hoped he could read my eyes. I think he saw that I was proud of him. His voice was calm and he looked confident as he told Sheila of his plans to propose marriage to Debra Simmons. "Tomorrow night. Megan's going to make herself scarce. Yes, I'll get a ring. Mom, please don't cry. I came to see Sammy, and he said I should tell Dad. Yes, I called him. He was ... you know ... Dad."

Hearing him talk to his mother brought a smile to my face. I knew I'd been duped. Megan didn't need help with accounting. She'd wangled an invitation to dinner to give Charlie and Debra some time alone. It made me wonder if she even liked beef stroganoff. Should I prepare something else?

Charlie hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, a look of satisfaction on his face. He shrugged, showing relief, like a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders. There were so many things I wanted to say, but didn't. We walked into the front room, past Victor, and to the door. There was a chill in the air as I followed him down the stairs and to his car.

"Thanks," he said, as he got into his car.

"Don't mention it," I said, but the car door was already closed, and he didn't hear me.

Victor looked up, a questioning look in his eyes, but I didn't stop to explain Charlie's visit or why he'd left so abruptly. It was none of his business. Besides, my telephone was ringing.

"Is he gone?"

"Yes," I said, recognizing Sheila's voice.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure. Debra's expecting, and I guess she wants to get married."

"You had a hand in this." It wasn't a question or an accusation. She was merely seeking information.

"Not really. I think his mind was already made up. All I did was to put his feelings into words."

"You told him to call his father, didn't you?"

"I think he knew it was the thing to do. He just needed confirmation. You should have heard him, Sheila. I've never seen him more confident. I was proud of him. He didn't take any crap."

"When is the wedding?"

"I don't know. We didn't talk."

"Did he ask you to be best man?"

I laughed and repeated myself. "I don't know. We didn't talk."

"You're a good friend, Sammy. I'm glad my son has you," she said, her voice breaking up.

"Please don't cry, Sheila," I said, remembering the frightened look in her eyes the night I'd crawled toward her. Charlie's father had demanded that Charlie go camping, leaving his ex-wife alone with me. Sheila had wanted to know how Charlie had lost his virginity. She objected when I offered to tell her and show her, but I'd ignored her protests. We got to know each other very well that night and the next morning. We had fucked in the den, in her bed and in the kitchen.

Was I really a good friend? What sort of friend takes advantage of his friend's mother? What sort friend bends his friend's mother over the kitchen counter and fucks her from behind on Sunday morning? Sheila must not have been offended by my treatment of her. She'd come back for more of the same last year.

"I'm not crying. Thank you for taking care of my little boy, Sammy," Sheila said.

I was relieved when she said goodbye. Hearing her voice made me recall the way her blond pubic hair matted when it became soaked with juice from her pussy. Remembering how responsive she had been to my touches, how she'd reacted to my thrusts, and how she'd vocalized her approval, was embarrassing. What sort of friend becomes aroused by his friend's mother's voice?

It was getting late and I needed to concentrate. The cases we were assigned in the business management class were becoming more complex, but we had longer to prepare our paper. The Monday night meeting would be to agree on research assignments. We would meet again to discuss the case and to write our paper. I made a list of questions about the case, resolving to spend Monday afternoon at the library. At midnight, I shut down my computer and headed for my bedroom. Victor was still working at the folding tables in the front room.

"Goodnight," I said, wanting to avoid a discussion about Charlie's visit. I was finding it hard to reconcile the fact that Charlie was getting married.

I was already looking forward to Megan's visit. I fell asleep thinking about what else I could serve for dinner. I got up to find a note from Victor, saying that he would see me in class.

Except for two minor details, my day went like any other Monday. The first exception was Casey. He asked if he could join me for lunch, saying that he had something to discuss with me. I told him that I usually had an early lunch with Victor at the far end of the campus, but offered to meet him at noon.

Victor was as curious as me as to what Casey wanted to discuss, but like Charlie's visit to my apartment, he didn't speculate. Like any other day, we discussed our architectural class, building designs, load factors, and the use of new materials. He was nervous about the slowdown in building, and went so far as to express concern about the future of his chosen profession.

Victor was a serious kid, somewhat conniving. I would have liked to assure him that he would have a job with the Oldham Companies, but I was just as uncertain about the future as he was. "There'll always be a demand for a hard worker, Vic. You're a hard worker and you'll do well."

I got to the other cafeteria before Casey and was waiting outside the door when the second exception happened.

"What are you doing here? I thought you ate lunch at the other cafeteria," Megan said.

She'd taken me by surprise, making me speechless. Like most times when we met, I stared at her, spellbound by her presence. She stared back, seeming to know why I couldn't think of anything to say. She was standing close, too, mouth open, peering back at me. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, she was being dragged away by another girl. She grinned and I grinned back.

Casey showed up, and I followed him through the serving line. He was a tall kid, skinny, with an appetite. He filled his tray with more food than I would have eaten all day. I took a slice of apple pie and a cup of coffee. We found a table for two, and I watched him dig into his food. He shoveled one helping of the meatloaf special into his mouth before I'd taken two bites of my pie. He hadn't said anything, and I wondered if he'd forgotten why he wanted to talk to me, not that I minded. I'd found Megan in the crowd of diners. She was seated in the middle of the dining room at a table with several other people. Almost every time I looked at her she was glancing my way, but turned her head, grinning sheepishly, when she saw that I'd caught her. We played our little game of cat and mouse until Casey was ready to talk.

"What do you think of Kalian?" he began.

I was finishing my pie, and took a sip of coffee before answering his question. "I don't have any complaints. She's pulling her weight," I said, ready to defend our third team member if he found fault with her contribution to case assignments. He didn't.

"That's not what I mean," Casey said, showing irritation that I hadn't caught on to what he was saying. He was serious so I stopped trying to catch Megan watching me. It dawned on me that Casey had feelings for Kalian. What did that have to do with me? I decided to have some fun.

"She's persistent, and loyal; I'll give her that. When you and Gordon were sending her to steal my notes, she was always persistent."

"I didn't send her to steal your notes. That was Gordon, not me," he corrected me.

"I know," I assured him. "Why did you ask me what I think about Ms. Shelton?"

Casey had his head down, playing with the food left on his plate. I glanced across the room, and was alarmed when I couldn't find Megan. The table where she'd been sitting was now empty.

"I caught you watching me," Megan laughed, approaching our table from the blind side. "You couldn't keep your eyes off me, could you?"

By stating the obvious, she'd intended to deflect the fact that she couldn't refrain from looking my way, also.

"No, I couldn't," I agreed, catching her by surprise. "Have a seat," I said, grabbing a chair from the next table.

She looked at Casey, and then back at me. "I can't. This is my free period. I'm going to the library."

"Me too, I'll go with you," I said, getting to my feet.