Chapter 13

Thursday morning, just as we were getting ready to leave for school, Bill's crew showed up with the new windows. Things had warmed up, most of the snow was gone and the ground was drying out so changing the windows wouldn't be an exercise in freezing the crew's butts off or chewing up the yard with their ladders and scaffolding. Greg and I were grinning from ear to ear—we wouldn't have to use a rented bucket truck or, worse yet, climb that rickety old ladder to change the screens and storms any more!

Thursday afternoon I was sitting in the cafeteria studying for midterms when Val sat down across from me. Since the party, I'd seen her a couple of times around school but she'd always turned and walked away, as if she was avoiding me. I guess under the circumstances I could understand her reaction.

"Tommy, can we talk? I mean just talk?" She was twisting her fingers together like some demented macramé artist. "You hate me, don't you?"

"Val, no, I don't hate you ... it's just that, well, I just don't want you to think there's any future with me. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is.

"Beth told me about your conversation Saturday night, I mean about what it was like when you were growing up, and I really hope you can find somebody who can treat you the way you deserve. I'm sorry it's not me, but some guy's going to be real lucky to get you."

"I feel so embarrassed. Why did she have to tell you what I said!"

I reached across the table and took her hand, partly as reassurance and partly because all of the finger twisting was distracting. "Val, she told me because she knows you can use all the friends you can get. I'd like to be one of them, so would she."

"B-but why? I mean, I did everything I could to steal you away from her. Why would she ever want to see my face again? I-I don't understand."

I thought back to Beth and her mice in high school. "Val, that's just the way she is. I guess she feels a little responsible for what happened at the party and wants to help ... if you'll let her."

I could see the tears form as she shook her head. "I don't understand, but I'd like that," she whispered. Val sat there with her head down for a couple of minutes, then looked up at me. "Tommy, what do you know about Brad? I mean, is he a nice guy?"

I was going to give her a glib answer about what a great guy he was and then I thought about it. What did I really know about him? I mean, sure, we'd been in several classes together, but did I really know him? Well, other than he made it through Grossfeldt's classes without any bloodshed. That should count for something, right?

"Val, he seems like a nice guy. I mean he doesn't run around telling everybody about the girls he's been with or anything, but I don't really know him all that well. Why? Did he try anything Saturday night?" He and I were going to have a long talk if I found out he had. Suddenly I found myself ready to play the knight on a white charger for my former nemesis.

"N-no, we just talked for a while. As a matter of fact I was going to give him a kiss goodnight for being such a nice guy for taking me home and he just gave me a hug instead. He's not gay, is he?"

"No. At least I don't think so."

"Do you think he'd ... oh, never mind."

Why did I feel like I was right back in high school again? Beth's mice, my rats, and the two of us in the middle.

"Val, do you want me to find out how he feels about you?" For the first time since I'd met her, she turned beet red. I mean, here was a girl who didn't seem to have any problem stripping in front of a room full of people but was embarrassed about one guy finding out she'd asked about him.

"Oh, Tommy, don't do that! I mean, what would he think of me?"

"Val, relax. I won't do anything to embarrass you. I promise."

"B-but why? After everything I've done. Why?"

Good question. I could see the fear creep into her face as I took my time thinking about it.

"I know you wish Beth hadn't said anything about what you two talked about at the party, but since she did tell me, I guess I'd just like to help, if I can. Val, you seem like a nice person. Will you let me see what I can do?"

That was all it took. The floodgates opened up and I could see her tears hit the table as her shoulders began to shake.

I moved around the table, sat down next to her, and let her bury her face in my chest.

I missed Speech that afternoon. Val cried for a good half an hour. Just about the time I was going to ask her if she was okay I realized she'd fallen asleep in my arms. I tried to figure out what to do and ended up just holding her as people walked past—many couples with that "been-there-done-that" look—until she stirred, almost an hour later. I could tell the moment she realized where she was and what had happened. She pulled back with a jerk and started apologizing. The funny thing was, if she'd done something like this before the party I'd have suspected something, but now I just reached up and put a finger over her lips.

"Val, don't worry. I know you didn't mean anything. You just needed somebody to cry on. That's what friends are for sometimes." I was almost afraid that was going to set her off again. Instead she just gave me a quick look of gratitude as she stood up.

"Thank you, Tommy. I don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you, but thank you." With that she grabbed her backpack and left, looking back just as she walked out the door as if to make sure it was me sitting there and not a chimera and that our conversation had really happened. She left me wondering again about what makes people tick and how many layers there are to each of us. Well, that, and a damp shirt.

I was getting all my stuff together when Frank Fowler walked past. "What's the matter, Randahl, your girlfriend just tell you she's knocked up?"

Beth, Greg, Cindy, and I had recently watched Romancing the Stone and the line "bastards have brothers" floated through my head. I wonder if Jason knew he had a sibling?

I got home just as Bill's guys were finishing the first of our windows. They'd started upstairs first, then moved down to the back of our first-floor digs, beginning with the pantry window and now moving on to our bedroom.

"Whoa, look at that!" I heard as I walked down the hall. I saw one of the guys staring at the semi-nude of Beth that hung over our bed. The picture that had taken the place of the oil portrait over her bed at home was one of the first things she'd brought to our new place. I guess both of us had gotten so used to seeing it hanging there that neither had thought about taking the rather personal image off the wall before Bill's crew showed up.

"You're a photographer, right?" he asked. "Did you take that picture?" I admitted it was one of mine.

"Any chance of meeting the model?" his partner added, not quite drooling over my lady's image.

Time to prevaricate a little. "Sorry, guys, but she's not modeling anymore." Well, it was the truth, sort of. I mean, when Cliff needed a model for the pictures of his robots I'd asked Beth if she was interested in posing and got one of her ... er, "pointed" responses.

If either of them noticed I hadn't really answered their questions they didn't say anything. I considered taking down the picture but figured it was already too late.

I made a quick escape to my "studio" to get the proofs ready for Jim—and to avoid any more questions about the picture. By the time I was done culling the obvious clinkers from yesterday's shoot Beth was home. I fired off an e-mail to Jim with the proofs and joined my lady in the kitchen.

"WHAT! How did ... why didn't you think of that?! Tommy, what will I do if they recognize me?" Beth whispered fiercely. Her reaction was about what I'd expected when I mentioned my conversation with the guys from Bill's crew. I considered telling her I'd be proud to have them know the beauty in the picture was my girl until I thought about what her response would be and decided keeping important body parts intact took precedence.

Monday I got an e-mail from Jim with a list of the prints and JPGs they wanted. When I sent him the proofs I'd made a bet with myself as to which pictures he and Matt would want and cropped and Photoshopped the most likely suspects. I had to chuckle when I saw I was about eighty percent right. All I had to do was crop and clean up the few I'd missed. When I was done I burned the JPGs to a CD, e-mailed copies to Jim and Dan for the web site, and e-mailed the finished TIFFs for the prints to my commercial printer. By Wednesday they'd have the prints finished and I could call Jim and set up a time to drop them off ... and hopefully have a chance to talk to Matt.

I caught up with Brad after class on Tuesday.

"What happened after the party Saturday night?" I was curious to see if his story matched Val's.

"Oh, boy, Tommy. That's a girl with a real confidence problem. We talked for maybe an hour when I dropped her off and I got the feeling her family isn't real big on affection. She sounded almost guilty because she wasn't a boy. Before you ask, I didn't try anything. Why, did she say anything to you?"

"No, I was just curious about how things went."

"Tommy, how messed up do you think Val is?"

"Messed up? I don't think she's really messed up, just ... I don't know ... I guess I'd say she's starved for attention and affection. Why?"

"Oh, nothing. I was thinking of maybe asking her out."

"If you do, just remember, be nice to her. She deserves it."

"Hey, I won't hurt her. I don't want you mad at me."

I grabbed my books and stood up. "It's not me you'd have to worry about. I think Beth has kind of taken on Val as one of her projects, and believe me, you do NOT want MY lady pissed at you."

"Ah, Tommy, is it true she knocked a guy unconscious last Summer?"

"Oh, you mean Jason? Nah, she didn't knock him out." I patted his shoulder as I turned to leave. "She used her knee."

"Tommy, you didn't scare him off, did you?" Beth asked as we were sitting at the kitchen table that night.

"Oh, I don't think so. He sounded like he'd really like to spend time with Val. I just reminded him of the consequences if he didn't treat her right."

"Yeah, by making me the ogre!"

"Beth, I just corrected a rumor he'd heard. That's all."

"Yeah, right."

I picked up my prints Wednesday and had them spread all over the dining room table when Beth got home.

"Are those the pictures for Matt?"

"Yeah, I'm going to drop them off tomorrow."

"Will you see Matt?" Hint, hint!

"I hope so. Why?"

"Tommy! Don't you want to see Bob and Sue again?"

"Yeah. Especially Sue!" I said with a leer.

"God, you're such a dirty old man! I don't know why I put up with you!"

Her tone would have worried me if I hadn't seen the glint in her eye.

"Tommy, can you do me a favor?"

I chuckled at my brother's request. His call came just as we were finishing dinner—"Getting out of dishes again?" was my lady's grumble.

"Sure, Kev. I'll have Cindy pick some up next time she's working."

Dead silence on the other end of the phone.

"Kev, you still there?"

"Ah, yeah. What are you talking about?"

"Condoms, of course. You asked if I could do you a favor, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but that's not it. I wanted to know if you could do a picture for Gail and me."

"Kev, remember I said not until you were both legal?"

"No, not that kind of picture. I want a picture of both of us!"

"Oh, a portrait! Sure. What kind do you want?"

"Kind?"

"Sure, there's all sorts of portraits—formal studio, casual, environmental ... what do you want?"

"Could we do it outside?"

"Sure. There's a nice park right around the corner from here, or we could take it at the farm if you don't mind waiting until things dry out a little more. Maybe in that special little clearing the two of you seem to like so much?"