Chapter 11: Bumps in the Road

November 4, 1980

"SO WHO HAVE YOU BEEN PRACTICING WITH? ANSWER ME!!"

I sat on the edge of Diana's bed, rubbing my temples in frustration. After a three-month honeymoon period in which the fights were scarce, far longer than we'd ever managed in either lifetime, she'd gone off on me again. And it was over the same old stupid issue. We'd been in the middle of one of our after-school trysts at her house, I'd just eaten her to orgasm, and her jealousies and insecurities suddenly re-emerged, for reasons known only to her.

"Who is she, you bastard?" she screamed. "Is it SARAH?"

Christ. She thought I was cheating on her with Sarah Livingston?

"Or is it LUCY GREEN? Your old girlfriend? That's why you got in that fight! You fucking asshole!" she ranted. She was irrational, out of control, and once again, I wasn't about to stick around and reason with her.

"I'm not listening to this shit, Diana," I told her calmly. "I'm outta here."

Thus, I departed the premises, as she continued to spew loud profanities. Just as before, she hurled an inanimate object in my direction. This time, it was a hair brush, and this time, it missed its intended target, flying harmlessly over my shoulder.

I was pissed. I didn't deserve that kind of treatment. Thing is, I truly believed that since the day at the beach in July, I'd done right by Diana. I'd been faithful, attentive, open, and understanding. I'd turned over a new leaf. And this was the thanks I got?

Fuck that.

The next day at school, Diana, as expected, did not show up at lunchtime. The gang inquired as to her whereabouts.

"She and I had a little spat yesterday," I explained, not wanting to go into too much detail in a public venue.

"I hope she comes around, Pat," said Patti soothingly. "You've been good to her. We all can see that." A few weeks ago, Patti might've reacted to this revelation with a batch of flirtatious, suggestive talk. But she and I were now good friends.

"I'm not so sure I care whether she comes around," I replied firmly. This remark brought momentary silence at the table; the subject was quickly changed.

I walked home from school that afternoon; something I vowed never to do again if I could help it. It took me over an hour. And later on at home, the predictable thing happened. The phone rang.

"Hi, sweetie," Diana's voice purred into my ear. "I missed you today. Wanna come over tomorrow?"

Just that. No apologies or explanations. Like nothing had happened.

"No, Diana. I don't like what you did yesterday, I didn't deserve it, and I won't be coming over to your house tomorrow."

"FINE, THEN!!" she shouted, right before the click.

You know what they say ... fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? Wasn't gonna happen.

Next day at lunch, I proclaimed to the crew that I was now a free man, on the prowl. I saw Evie and Patti react by exchanging glances with each other. I made a mental note to ask them later about it. I also put out feelers in search of transportation for the afternoon trip home. Guess who came to my rescue?

"Where do you live?" Evie queried.

She smiled as I told her.

"I have a car. It's not too far out of my way. I'll be happy to drop you off." Wow! That was an unforeseen silver lining.

After school, I met up with Evie, and we walked out to the parking lot. Her car was a white 1971 Chevy Nova.

"My mom gave it to me last year," she explained. "She didn't want me walking, taking the bus, or getting rides from others."

I knew that Evie was the apple of her mom's eye; in the previous life, I'd never had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Haines, although I'd heard lots about her. Evie's dad had passed away when she was five, and she scarcely remembered him. Evie had two brothers, both more than ten years older than her, who had long since moved out and lived their own lives. It was just Evie and her mother in the house, and as one might expect, her mom doted on Evie constantly.

"So tell me. What happened with you and Diana?" Evie asked as she drove out of the parking lot.

I actually welcomed that question. I knew I could talk to her about this topic. I told her about my entire history with Diana, from the constant blowups, to the talk with Mom and the implementation of her advice, to the subsequent improvement in our relationship, and ending with the most recent fight that ended things.

"I need a female perspective on this. That is, one coming from someone other than my mother," I grinned.

"Wow. To say she's insecure is an understatement," Evie began. "Actually, Patti and I often discuss you and Diana."

"Is that why you looked at each other right after I told you we broke up?"

"You noticed that," Evie smiled in acknowledgment. "Patti and I disagree about the two of you. She thinks you make a cute couple. I sensed problems, though, as soon as I saw you both together. Diana is a nice girl, but it's apparent that she's shy and has issues. The thing is, Pat, I've always thought that you coddled her far too much. It's like you somehow feel responsible for her issues."

"Right," I concurred, mulling that over.

"And," she continued," you mentioned that you didn't think your relationship would survive beyond the end of senior year."

"I just couldn't see it. We didn't have a strong enough foundation. Most relationships like this don't survive the transition to college, especially when both parties have different plans, as is the case here."

"Did you talk about this with her?"

"Nope. I always figured she felt the same way."

"There's one of your problems, then. You needed to be up front about that. That may have created false expectations for her. Maybe you could have come to an agreement that you'd go your separate ways after graduation."

I nodded; she was right. And then, in typical Evie fashion, she switched gears. She'd get her point across, but wouldn't belabor it, and then would move on to something else.

"You know who could have been adding to Diana's insecurity? Unintentionally, Patti and I."

"But it's not like I'm romantically involved with either of you."

"True, but you're giving some of your attention to us, and you weren't before. And when you're as insecure as Diana is, that causes problems."

"I never once heard her say that she's jealous of either of you."

"But she did throw out the names of other girls, though, including a former girlfriend. She's not consciously directing the jealousy at us, but projecting it in another direction."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because in her conscious mind, neither Patti nor I are on her list of potential targets for your romantic attention."

I was about to ask why, again, when it finally struck me.

"Patti because of her handicap, and you because of the color of your skin."

Evie smiled and touched her nose. "You got it."

"But that's ridiculous."

"You'd think so, but you'd be amazed at how pervasive that attitude is in a private Catholic school environment."

"Is it really?" I said, a trace of disgust in my voice. "People are so stupid sometimes."

"That's how Patti and I bonded. At St. James, the atmosphere has isolated us both."

"Those who caused that isolation? It's their loss."

We started to talk about Patti. There were a few things I was curious about.

"That flirty, wacky personality of hers ... is that genuine, or is it a front?" I asked.

"I've gotten to know her very well," came Evie's reply. "I wondered the same thing at first ... if her personality is just a defense mechanism. You know what? It's not. That's the real Patti. She told me she hams it up a little sometimes, because it tends to put people at ease with her disability. But not too much. She doesn't want to become the class clown, either. With Patti, what you see is what you get. She's an amazing individual. I'm a better person for having known her."

"Me, too," I added, with sincerity.

We'd been sitting there in Evie's car, parked in the driveway outside our house, just chatting. Evie suddenly noticed the time.

"Mom is gonna wonder what happened to me!" she exclaimed. "I'd better get moving."

"I should've invited you inside," I commented ruefully.

"I'll take a raincheck, okay?" she smiled.

"You got it," I affirmed as I opened the door, and prepared to say goodbye. But Evie stopped me.

"Just a minute, Pat. I need a male perspective on something. Mom likes my hair short, but I want to let it grow out. How do you think I'd look with longer hair?"

I grinned broadly.

"Let it grow, Evie. Talk to your mom about it. You'll look incredible with long hair. I guarantee it."

November 12, 1980

Today, the other shoe dropped. I got my first quarter report card.

One A ... of course, in the American History class. Three C's. And three D's, in French, physics and calculus. By all rights, the D in French should have been an F. I guess the teacher felt sorry for me, and cut me a break.

I can't say I wasn't expecting this. But I knew my parents wouldn't take it well. And they didn't.

"Totally, completely unacceptable, Patrick," my visibly shocked and upset mother lectured me after viewing this disaster of a report card. "How did you let this happen? Your father is gonna go through the ceiling!"

When Dad arrived home, he went straight into the kitchen. I could hear my parents talking briefly in voices that were just above a whisper. The five of us sat down for dinner; not a word was uttered in my direction by either Dad or Mom. I became very concerned. What was going on?

My trepidation only increased when my parents headed right upstairs after dinner, went into their room, and shut the door. I could never remember them doing that before!

It was about 7:30 when they finally re-emerged and came downstairs. They approached me together. Dad spoke first.

"Patrick ... we are not happy with that report card, to say the least. And there will be consequences. You know that the first quarter of senior year is the one that colleges look at most closely. Do you realize you've probably ruined your chances of getting into one of the better universities?"

That last statement didn't bother me terribly. I was set on going to Rutgers; I'd certainly get in there. I had no intention of attending the "better universities" of which Dad was speaking – Ivy League and the like – although that was the dream of my parents.

But the "consequences" remark? That had me nervous.

"We're not going to ground you," Dad continued, his voice mellowing, "because we understand that the accident you had last summer might have had something to do with this."

I also didn't like the sound of that. I wanted to break free from that "accident"! Now, it appeared that it would haunt me for at least a little while longer. Dad went on.

"However, Patrick, we are going to insist that you quit your job. You need to concentrate fully on your schoolwork."

"But--" I protested, thinking about the car that I was only a month or so away from being able to afford.

"No 'buts', Patrick. We know you have plans to get a car. You'll have to put them on hold till those grades come up."

There was nothing I could say. No one to blame but myself. Damn!

"Also," my father continued, "tomorrow, your mother will get in touch with the doctor. We need to make sure that these school problems aren't related to your accident. I'm not just talking about the report card, either ... I'm talking about the drinking incident, and the fight during the first week of school. Both were very out of character for you." Well, the fight was not especially unusual for me, but my parents thankfully didn't know that. Before I could say anything, Mom chimed in.

"You broke up with Diana, didn't you?"