Chapter 24: A Sister's Confession

August 25, 1982

What could I do, except pick myself up and continue moving forward.

There was no way I could forget what had happened. Never. It was the kind of thing that jumps up from your subconscious at random times and haunts you. The kind of thing that wakes you up in the middle of the night, wracked with guilt, even years later. I wouldn't forget. But I had a life to live.

My ill-chosen words, in and of themselves, had induced Kaci to do something that would change both of our lives forever. Say what you will about the whole abortion issue; I don't want to get into that, except to point out that it's something that many want to view in black and white, when in fact it consists of many, many shades of gray.

It was surely arguable that Kaci had acted hastily, impulsively, without completely hearing me out. Certainly, after I'd thought it through, I wanted to do the right thing. I knew that. But she hadn't given me a second chance.

And that was the thing. She had the ultimate right to decide one way or the other, no matter what I thought. She'd reacted to what I'd said, made her decision, and the final result was irreversible. Second chances were not in the cards at that point. And she'd closed the door to any further discussion.

I was, of course, guilty of many, many indiscretions, regardless. She'd been right on the ball when she'd described our interaction over the summer. I had wanted to keep everything under wraps, figuring no one would approve of our relationship. But that had not been her view of things. She wanted to be public, and why shouldn't she? And what, pray tell, did I expect to happen at the end of the summer? I could have at least talked about the future with her, and I didn't. Even my fruitless attempts at patching things up at the very end had been self-serving gestures, aimed primarily at assuaging my own guilt.

In my mind, I realized I'd been comparing the situation with Kaci with the earlier situation with Lily. I believed I was simply going from one isolated, out-of-sight, temporary relationship to another. But they were nothing alike, and I'd made a terrible miscalculation by expecting that they were. Kaci wasn't Lily. Kaci had wanted something more with me.

Plus, I'd been inherently dishonest with her. In a sense, I had pretended to be someone I wasn't. For all intents and purposes, she'd been interacting with the mind of a man in his forties, although she didn't know that. By all rights, that person was me, or at least a part of me. But she saw me as a teenager, and it was disingenuous and deceitful for me to play any other role. I'd let my inner adult come forth to increase my chances of scoring with her, and then, kept up the charade. And the consequences of that action had been tragic.

And therein lay the paradox. In some ways, the whole dual identity, time-travel thing was a point in my favor. Again, there was no morality textbook for me to fall back on. Yes, my conscience should have kicked in and told me I needn't have acted as I did, but no one else on the planet had to deal with the issues and unique pressures that I dealt with on a nonstop basis. Perhaps, just maybe, I was being just a tad too hard on myself?

Looking at the larger picture, I'd been backsliding for nearly a year now. Ever since that fateful blowup on Halloween Eve. I had no one to call a friend, and my family life was coming apart. Why was that?

Was it the "curse of Inez"?

Again: I didn't believe in witches.

What I did believe in was something akin to Occam's razor. The simplest explanation was the most likely to be true. And instead of bringing in all kinds of paranormal and supernatural rationalizations, why not finger the most probable culprit?

Myself, and my own actions. I needed to be accountable. I'd been playing the blame game for far too long.

Everything that had happened was quite explainable, if I looked objectively at what I'd done. The temper tantrum that had cost me valued friendships? That was on me. I'd overreacted to something I didn't understand. Similarly, I knew that I had to shoulder most of the culpability for what had happened with Kaci. And the recent stuff with my family? I still hadn't the foggiest as to what was going on there, but I was willing to wager that a good portion of the blame there was mine, as well.

No more witch crap for me. Anyhow, what I really needed here was an angel, to help guide me through all this shit.

And it just so happened, that on this evening, I was in fact visited by an angel.

Angels don't always come bearing good tidings. This one had news that at least in part, was quite disappointing to hear, even bordering on heart-rending. But angels have your best interests at heart, and unfailingly have your back. This particular angel would help steer me back onto a much more productive path in life, even though she was shouldering a huge burden of her own.

She didn't flutter down on heavenly wings. She merely knocked on my bedroom door.

She was none other than my kid sister, Eileen.

The look on her face, as she came and sat down next to me on the bed, let me know that she was about to address something of great importance.

"I have a few things to talk to you about, Pat," she said, wringing her hands, appearing intensely ill at ease. "I'm kind of worried about how you'll take this. I'm afraid you'll get pissed at me."

I sat up and took a deep breath, trying to open my mind as far as it would stretch.

"Go ahead," I told her. "I'll try not to get upset."

She paused for a moment, then came forth with the truth.

"I'm seeing Dave again. This time, it's serious. I love him, Pat. I really do."

I wasn't pissed. I was stunned.

Nonetheless, I looked at her, ready to deliver an "Are you nuts?" kind of remark. Then I realized that this was my kid sister, she was opening up to me, and this had to be difficult for her. I bit my tongue.

"Tell me how this came about," I said softly. She relaxed perceptibly.

"Last winter, near the end of your winter break, I ran into him at the Ground Round. We got to talking. He didn't tell me right away what had happened between you and him. But after he went back to school, he told me the story. I told him I didn't want to talk about that anymore, and he respected that. Even now, we don't talk about it. Then, he came home for spring break. We got together every day he was home, and that's when things ... accelerated."

I knew exactly what she meant by "accelerated".

"Mom and Dad didn't approve," Eileen went on. "They still don't. They know that you and Dave don't get along any more. They told me to stop seeing him, for your sake, but I couldn't. They also told me he was too old for me. You saw the arguments that it caused."

She paused for a minute, her eyes filling with tears. But she collected herself enough to continue.

"They also got into it with Dave's parents. They all used to be friends. They aren't anymore. Can you imagine how hard this must be for us? I can't visit him at his house, and he can't come here."

That point really drove home the gravity of the situation. My problems had propagated much further than I knew. They had wormed their way into my household, and had actually threatened the very stability of my own family. This had to stop, now, and it was up to me to stop it. But I had to know one more thing.

"This has been going on for months. Why didn't you tell me before?

"Because, you're, well, different now, Pat. I don't know what happened to you. Mom and Dad have noticed it, believe me. They don't know how to approach you. What's up with you, anyway? You're nothing like you used to be."

"I know," I acknowledged, "and I'm working on getting back to the way I was. I went through a rough stretch lately, and hopefully it's over."

With that matter out of the way, I was finally coming around to formulating a coherent reaction to Eileen's problem. I began to propose a solution.

"Does Dave ever talk about me?" I asked. "Would he be open to a meeting to clear the air?"

"In a word, no. He isn't ready to forgive you. He doesn't talk about you much, and when he does, I hear phrases like 'when hell freezes over', 'when pigs fly', and 'when the Mona Lisa grows a set of balls'."

"Yep, that sounds like Dave," I chuckled, bringing the first hint of levity into the discussion. "So what we're left with is this. We need to have a family talk – you, me, Dad, and Mom – to bring all of this out into the open. And another thing. If you want to bring Dave over here, like for dinner or something, let me know and I'll find something else to do that evening."

"Pat, this is your house, too," she protested. "I couldn't – and wouldn't – kick you out of here."

"Right, but this is not your problem, Eileen. It's mine. I'll be the one to make the necessary adjustments. We know Dave doesn't want to see my face. If you want him to come over, tell me about it, and I'll scram for a couple of hours."

"You'd do that for me?" she said softly.

"Of course. And one other thing. Dave doesn't want to talk to me right now. But keep in mind that if he changes his mind, I will talk with him, and will try to be civil."

"Thanks, Pat. I appreciate it. Which brings me to the second thing that I need to tell you."

"There's more?"

"Yes, there is. In fact, here is where I'm really worried about you getting pissed."

I shook my head and whistled.

"Okay ... tell me part two."

"Part two is this," she said nervously. "I've joined Dave's band – the one you helped to form – as a part-time vocalist and keyboardist. Since I'm not yet eighteen, I can't perform in some of the venues they do. And obviously, since they're based up in New Brunswick, I can't be a full-time member. But I've already decided that I want to go to Rutgers, so I plan to go full-time with them as soon as I graduate. In the meantime, I just fill in at a few of their gigs."

Now, that hurt. I put my head down in my hands.

I finally rose up and looked at her. An awkward silence ensued. But how angry could I be at her? Again, much of this was my own doing.

"If you like, Pat," she pleaded, her eyes clouding up again, "I'll quit the band. I'll even break up with Dave. I don't want to make you mad. Don't get mad at me. Please?"

I shook my head. "I'm not mad," was my simply-worded reply. "What do Mom and Dad think about this?"

"I didn't tell them for the longest time," she confessed. "I had to hide it from them. I used to make excuses to get away for an evening. But I got busted a couple of weeks ago. They were furious, and wondered how I could do that to you. But you see, Pat ... I didn't mean to do it to you. I just wanted to be in a band with my boyfriend. Mom and Dad told me that I had to tell you right away. But I wanted to talk to you, anyhow."

It was a lot to swallow. A lot. However, I was committed to moving forward from my dark period, and perhaps this was just part of the process.

"Eileen, I don't want to stand in the way of your dreams, so I won't. At the same time, I won't lie either, and claim that I'm happy about this. But if you want to be in that band, I won't object. Just understand that I don't think I'll be attending any of your gigs in the foreseeable future."

She still looked downcast and uncertain. "Again, I'll quit if you want me to."

"You don't have to," I stated firmly. Then, very quietly, I told her wistfully, "Tell me about the band."

"Are you sure you want me to tell you, Pat? I know this whole thing must be really hard for you."

"A lot of it is my own fault. I accept that. So, tell me."

Eileen took a deep breath, and began to speak.

"There are six people in the band, when I'm there. Five otherwise. Dave plays drums. You know that. Paul works the bass. Evie plays the sax. The lead guitarist is Inez. Inez, Evie and I take turns with female vocals. The sixth person is a guy you don't know. His name is Danny Montero; he's Inez's boyfriend. He handles male vocals, and plays the keyboard when I'm not there."

I guess none of this surprised me. But hearing those names, especially those of my three former friends, as part of a successful band that I dreamed up and was now unable to be a part of, was a serious blow to my pride. To keep from dwelling on that too much, I continued that line of conversation.

"So, this Danny guy is pretty much the one who replaced me."

"Actually," Eileen corrected, "he's the third guy that has held that spot, not counting you. Your actual replacement was the guy who auditioned right before Inez. I don't remember his name."

"Bud McMillan?" I practically shouted in disbelief.

"Yeah, he's the one." They'd replaced me with Bud? Talk about adding insult to injury! "They couldn't find anyone else, so they decided to bring him back. I never met him, but he was a real jerk, they say. He wanted to run the show and handle all the guitar work, and forced Inez to be nothing more than a backup singer. He lasted one gig before they kicked him out."