Chapter 10: Let's Have a Party

May 1974

They arrived late, but not too much. The fraternity house parking lot had always been undersized so Jim had a difficult time wedging the Rustmobile into a space.

"I'm glad we took this car instead of the Duster," Jim said. "The old Rustmobile can take a few more dents and no one would notice, but the Duster doesn't have any yet.

He turned off the motor and they were about to climb the back steps of the fraternity house when a pick up truck towing a trailer ambled into the lot. It was the equipment for the band that would be playing later that night.

He recognized the person who stepped out of the truck as the set-up guy for the band when they played at the house on other occasions.

"You aren't going to park us in are you?" Jim asked. "We plan to leave on the early side."

"Naw," the burly man said in a gruff voice, "we'll just unload and park the rig on the street somewhere."

Great!" Jim said and he took Hildy's hand and they went into the fraternity house.

When they walked into the foyer the party was in full swing. He looked around for Rich and didn't see him. He'd seen his car in the lot, though, so he knew that he and Chelsea were somewhere in the house.

"Want something to drink?" he asked Hildy.

There was a table covered by a white table cloth with two punch bowls on it surrounded by glasses turned upside down.

"Is the white stuff the drink with vodka and grapefruit juice?" Hildy asked.

"And sugar. That's right. It's called..."

"Silver Moons," Hildy said. "I remember. I think I'll pass. What about the purple one in the other punch bowl?"

"Purple Passion," Jim answered, "Vodka and Grape Juice with sugar."

"Great choice," Hildy said, "I suppose if I have to choose..."

"Personally, I'd rather have a beer. I never drink that garbage," Jim said. "Follow me."

He led her to the third floor of the fraternity house where there were brothers' rooms. In the connecting hallway there was an old soft drink machine.

"Name your poison," Jim said. "Bud or LaBatts,"

"I guess Budweiser," Hildy said.

Jim put a quarter into the slot and bottle fell onto the rubber pad in the opening of the machine. There was a bottle opener tied on a string nearby. Jim took off the cap and handed the bottle to her.

"I'm a LaBatts man, myself."

He slid another quarter into the machine. In a few seconds he and Hildy had fresh drinks and turned to head back downstairs.

"I guess we're slumming now," Hildy laughed.

""Not at all," Jim replied. "For me, it's a delicacy to drink beer out of a glass bottle instead of a can."

When they arrived at the second floor landing they met Rich and Chelsea.

"I see you and I had the same idea," Rich said.

Jim introduced Hildy and Chelsea to each other.

"I'll see you in the dining room," he told Rich.

When Jim and Hildy arrived on the first floor he decided to give Hildy a quick tour of the house. He started with the pool room where guests were placing their empty glasses on the felt of the pool table.

"There would have been a time when that would have upset me, but it's someone else's problem now."

They moved to the parlor. There was a composite picture of all the brothers from 1972.

"That's you!" Hildy shrieked.

"That's right; that was me two years ago."

"A moustache and sideburns? That's hilarious!"

"I don't think it's that funny, Hildy."

It was no use. Hildy was dissolving in laughter and she hadn't even finished half her beer.

As Hildy was composing herself Jim spied Ashley and Chelsea talking in the corner. Chelsea pointed a finger at Hildy and Ashley covered her face as she burst out in laughter. Jim glanced at Hildy and hoped she hadn't noticed.

"I think that girl over there in the green gown thinks it's funny, too," Hildy said.

As usual, Hildy had noticed and Jim was certain that Hildy knew that Ashley wasn't laughing at his picture from 1972.

Jim knew in advance that Hildy hadn't dressed like the other dates at the party. In fact, Hildy's outfit could have been called 'frumpy', especially compared to the gowns of the other girls. Their gowns were a lot flimsier and far more suggestive the Hildy's. Not only that, it was May and Hildy's skirt was more suitable for winter. Jim didn't care about any of that. He did care if there might be trouble. He decided to try to keep Ashley as far away as he could.

Jim was figuring out how he would do that when the dinner bell rang. Dinner was to be served in the dining room which was in the basement of the house. Everyone started filing downstairs. There were round tables set up with table cloths and place settings for three couples. The pledges stood to the side in white waiter's jackets ready to begin serving dinner.

Jim led Hildy to a table where Rich and Chelsea were waiting for them Jim pulled Hildy's chair away from the table and Hildy slid into it. As he pushed her in he noticed Ashley walking into the dining room with her date, Steve Sadowski.

Steve Sadowski was two years younger than Jim. He studied Engineering like Jim and Rich, but that was about all they had in common with him. He was on the short side, but wiry and had played on the hockey team during his first year. Despite his Slavic name he had olive skin and his hair was neither long nor short. He had a greasy look and his favorite jokes seemed to be tests of perverted ideas that must have been racing through his mind.

"Ashley and Stevie are sure to keep one another busy tonight," Jim thought.

"Oh, I want to sit with Chelsea," Ashley said in a voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

She scurried into the seat next to Rich, which was across from Hildy. Steve took the chair along side hers.

Ashley was carrying a cup full of the Silver Moon punch from upstairs. Jim guessed that it might not be her first one of the evening.

"Ashley and Steve, this is Hildy," Jim said, performing the obligatory honors.

"I noticed," Ashley replied.

She turned to Hildy.

"I like your gown," she said, "or should I call it a skirt?"

"It's a skirt," Hildy answered.

Ashley giggled a bit.

"Why did you take off the poodles? It doesn't seem complete without the poodles."

Ashley looked at the others at the table, expecting them to laugh at her joke. Chelsea gave out a polite laugh. Steve did, too. Ashley laughed some more to make up for those that didn't understand the joke and weren't laughing."

"They weren't poodles. They were hearts," Hildy said. "I wore this skirt to a Valentines's Day party two years ago."

"You should have left them on," Ashley said. "They would have been cute."

"I don't have money to waste on formal gowns that I plan to wear a single time," Hildy countered. "I thought this would be okay."

"Oh, it is," Ashley replied. "And I like your no-make-up look. It's so ... so (ahem) ... natural."

"Let's talk about something else," Jim said.

Jim felt Hildy's hand on his leg. He knew she was telling him not to make a scene.

"Right," Rich said, "it's supposed to be nice at the lake tomorrow and..."

"Well, Jim," Ashley interrupted, "I can see that you understand that beauty isn't everything."

Jim leaned close to Hildy.

"Why don't you go to the Ladies' room and powder your nose?"

"I don't need to powder my nose," Hildy whispered back. "Please, just let it go. It doesn't matter to me."

Hildy had almost convinced Jim. He knew that Ashley was nearly drunk. The glassful of super-punch that she'd carried into the dining room was nearly empty.

"Stevie," Ashley said, "I need another glass of punch."

Steve started to get up to go on his errand.

"I see that you two are drinking beer," Ashley said to Jim. "I understand it's the preferred beverage of the working class."

Jim rose to his feet. He leaned over and put both hands on the table, pressing in as close to Ashley as he could.

"That's enough, Ashley. Knock it off," Jim said.

"Don't tell me to knock it off," Ashley shot back. "You knock it off or I'll let everyone know a few things I know about you."

"Be my guest, Ashley. Tell them anything you want."

Ashley opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it before any words could come out. To Jim, she looked unhappy and a bit ugly. It had never occurred to him to see her that way before. He waited for a second for her to speak, but she didn't.

He knew that Ashley wanted to reveal his problem, but one revelation often leads to more of them and the world's ears feast on unintended disclosures.

"I didn't think you'd have anything to say," Jim said. "Now, like I said, knock it off."

"And what if I don't? What're you going to do about it?"

"If you don't knock it off, Ashley," Jim said in a voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, "I'll go upstairs with little Stevie and put him on the Disabled List. Then, you'll have no one to sleep with tonight and you can walk home all by yourself in what there is of your green dress with your boobs falling out of it."

He straightened up and stared Ashley in the eye to let her know that he meant what he was saying. Steve Sadowski was standing alongside her with a stupid look on his face.

"Hey, man," he said, "don't threaten me. I didn't do anything."

"She's your date Steve," Jim said and pointed his finger at him. "Take care of it."

Jim sat down. He glanced at Hildy and he noticed that her face had turned red. She leaned over close so she could whisper something to him.

"I'm glad that you decided not to make a scene," she said.

Jim took a deep breath. He knew that he'd made a scene and he hoped that he wouldn't have to make good on his promise to injure Steve Sadowski, especially with his wrist being strained, and all. He looked around the room.

"Look, everyone, there's a table over there with only two couples at it. This table is a bit crowded. I think Hildy and I are going to move over there."

Hildy and Jim moved to the table across the room. It was occupied by two of his younger fraternity brothers in their second year of pre-med with their dates. Jim didn't know them very well—they stuck to themselves more than not because of their academic workload.

"It would be a shame to leave school without getting to know these guys better," he thought as he crossed the room with Hildy.

"Hi, guys, this is my date, Hildy," he said. "Do you mind if we join you?"

Jim pushed Hildy's chair in and then seated himself. Hildy leaned close to Jim.

"What did she mean when she said that she knows some things about you?" Hildy asked.

"A long time ago she thought she was going to have sex with me and it didn't turn out. She got mad and she hasn't gotten over it yet."

"How long ago?"

"It seems like another lifetime," Jim told her.

The premed brothers were looking at each other, and then at their dates and then at Hildy, and then at Jim. Hildy was looking down at the table.

"Look, Hildy, you asked me. I didn't do it with her because I was thinking about you, in case you're interested."

He knew he was in trouble and wondered why he was, even though he had avoided telling her one of his polite, little, white lies. The ugly little topic might have served to dampen his and Hildy's plans to 'make tonight the night', so he was eager to smooth things over.

"Are all your fraternity parties like this?" Hildy asked.

"No," Jim answered, "this is one of the more exciting ones."

Hildy laughed and shook her head. The pre-med brothers and their dates relaxed and laughed with her.

"Look, Hildy," he said, "Let's enjoy our dinners and get to know these people. Then, we'll go a few times around the dance floor and after that we're out of here."

After a few minutes the dinner party settled down and Hildy seemed satisfied with what Jim told her. The pledges did a good job serving dinner and the food, a chicken dish, turned out to be pretty good, if predictable. Jim and Hildy had a pleasant time talking with the pre-med brothers and their dates. He had taken some of the same Chemistry courses for which they were in the midst of finals preparation.

There were no more incidents with Ashley, although Jim noticed that she polished off another full glass of punch and half of another.

At dinner's end, Jim and Hildy decided to go upstairs. They could hear the band warming up. They were among the last couples to arrive on the dance floor.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you at dinner," he told Hildy as they were walking up the stairs.

"It's okay," she said. "I didn't want you to make a scene, but in a way, I'm almost glad that you did. Just promise me you won't do it again on the dance floor."

"It wouldn't be possible. The band will be too loud. No one would be able to hear anything, no matter what is said."

"Just for being bad, I'm going to make you dance two more dances before we go back to your apartment," Hildy said.

"I'm not a very good dancer, Hildy."

"I know," she said, "I danced with you in the Shakespeare room last summer. You're not as bad as all that."

Hildy stood out on the dance floor, being as tall as she was. Jim knew it, but it didn't bother him. The music was loud, as he had warned her. Hildy seemed to be having fun, so Jim was happy to stay on the dance floor with her longer than he planned.

As he looked at the other couples he could see that some of them had been drinking more after they came upstairs from the dining room. Jim and Hildy had finished off their beers during dinner and hadn't had anything else to drink. They had no interest in the vodka punch and the beer machine was all the way up on the third floor.

Jim had been keeping an eye on Ashley. He noticed that she was drinking a lot of Silver Moons. She was weaving about the dance floor and Jim knew she was drunk. After a while he looked up and found that he had lost track of her. Steve Sadowski was missing, too.

"At least we know that Ashley won't be driving home in her condition," a thought he kept to himself.

He glanced at his watch. It was ten-thirty. They had been on the dance floor longer than he had realized. At that moment he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Rich.

"Chelsea and I are all partied out," Rich shouted over the thumping bass. "We're going to head over to her apartment. I'll see you tomorrow."

Rich left and Jim turned to Hildy. She was leaning close to him with an expectant expression that Jim liked.

"I think I'm all partied out, too," she said. "Let's dance one more and then we'll go."

It was what Jim was hoping to hear. The band began playing their next number—a slow one. It was a Charlie Rich song:

And when we get behind closed doors

Then she lets her hair hang down

And she makes me glad that I'm a man

Oh, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors

The song ended; it was a good note to end on, considering all that had happened. It was time to go back to the apartment.

"I think that song was our cue," Hildy breathed into Jim's ear,

"Let's go," he said, and took her hand and headed for the door.

He was glad that he hadn't had much to drink. It would better driving and when they got back to the apartment he wanted all his senses in good working order.

They stepped out the back door into the parking lot. His Rustmobile was right where he'd left it and the band's pick up and trailer was right where it had been the last time he'd seen it.

"They're going to have to move this," Jim said.

"I don't think they can move it," Hildy said. "They've got someone behind them, too."

Jim recognized the car. It belonged to Joe Lawrence, one of Jim's good friends.

"That's Joe's car. He'll move it if I ask him to. Then the band can move their rig."

Jim looked into the cab of the truck. There was a fuzzy looking guy sleeping in the passenger's seat. He must have been one of the band's set-up crew.

"Hey, wake up," Jim shouted at him, "you've got to move this truck."

"Can't do it, man," the sleepy helper mumbled. "Haven't got the keys. The guy playin' the drums has got the keys."

"Well go get them from him," Jim said.

"Can't, man. I don't know how to back up the rig—especially in so small a space."

Jim began looking about, hoping he could figure out a way that he could thread the Rustmobile around the band's rig. But the Rustmobile wasn't a threading around kind of car.

"They'll be done with their set in about an hour, man," the sleeper said. "I'll get him to move it then."

"Please don't forget," Jim told him.