The New Affair

The New Affair

Part One: The Move

In 1970 my parents came up with a grand scheme, they were going to buy a farm. Not a big one, just large enough to raise a few cows and a horse or two. Of course there would be chickens, a vegetable garden and an assortment of other things I knew nothing about. They were done with city life and the ever rising school taxes. This was a great plan except for one thing; EVERYTHING.

 “What about me?” I thought. I had grown up in the city, graduated from high school in the city; it was the only life I knew. I know it was a bit selfish to be thinking about myself like that, but I had a life, friends, and most importantly, the love of my life. She lived less than a mile away. I practically lived at her place. We had even hinted at the possibility of marriage someday, and would have too if only I hadn’t been a jerk, or perhaps even better still, the grand jerk of all jerks.

 That, in itself, is a long story. The only thing that’s important is I said some mean and cruel things, none of which were true. The result; we broke up. She unwisely took me back after having to listen to me grovel and beg. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Things were never quite the same. It wasn’t her fault; I had destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to me.

  We dated until late 1970. I don’t remember actually breaking up. For what I can remember we never said good bye. I think we both knew things were pretty much over, however. One night I remember simply leaving her house and never returning. I haven’t seen her since.

  What was left of me after that wasn’t much. A hole had been left in my heart. I dated several girls, but I was never able to commit to any kind of relationship. My heart had turned dark and cold. I was still in love with her. I was too stubborn to do anything about it, and before long she became just a memory; someone I used to know.

Part Two: The Commuting Game

 The little country farmhouse my parents bought was next door to the family that had sold it to us. They had a daughter named Betty Lou. She had enrolled in college at East Texas State University in Commerce, Texas. Funny thing, I was in my senior year at ETSU.

 Our parents thought it might be neat if the two of us commuted together rather than stay in the college dorms. Commerce wasn’t really that far away anymore, not since we had moved. She would drive one week, and I the next.

 At 5’8” and tipping the scales at 98, there wasn’t much to her. I joked saying a person could drive a truck between her legs. I don’t think she laughed too much at that one. Needless to say, she was quite bowlegged. This was probably due to riding horses. I guess that’s what you do when you live in the country; ride horses. I don’t hate horses, but I’m not exactly fond of them either. I won’t ride anything that can think for itself. Give me my motorcycle any day of the week. You never come in from a ride smelling like barnyard manure, you don’t have to cinch up any saddles, and it won’t kick you in the teeth when you least expect it. Yes, motorcycles are the way people were meant to travel.

 Our days of commuting began in early September. Betty Lou and I got to know each other quite well. She was actually almost cute. If you could get past her big fat nose that spread across most of her face, and her big fat lips, long, stringy, dirty blond hair, and her bowed legs, you might almost get the illusion she was pretty.

 I must admit though, she had a great personality, and kept me laughing most of the time. We were becoming rather good friends.

 She wore a promise ring she got from some guy named Jerald. Out of curiosity I asked her what a promise ring was. She told me it’s a ring that signifies a promise of becoming engage someday. What? None of that made any sense to me at all. I discovered that growing up in the country is a whole different ballgame than growing up in the city. They do some crazy things out there, and they talk funny too. I think all the boys have two names like Jerry Don, and Billy Bob. I might as well have landed on the moon.

Part Three:The Great Escape

 By mid-October I think Betty Lou’s focus had changed. She broke things off with Jerald Whatsisname, and began pursuing me. I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable. She was still fun to be around, but I was not looking for a relationship.

 My suspicions were confirmed when on October the 21^st she asked me to the Hunt County Fair. It was a Friday, date night for most people my age.

 “The what,” I asked. Apparently all the small country counties put on their own special fair. I told you things were weird out here. Dallas had one fair; The State Fair of Texas. Until then I thought it was the only fair.

 I was squirming like a snake. I thought she had me when suddenly I blurted out, “I’m sorry Betty Lou, but I’ve already made other plans.”

 She looked at me and said, “Oh. What are you doing tonight, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 It was then I made up the worst lie of my life, well, perhaps not the worst, but a real doozy. She already knew about the girl I was still in love with, the one I left, or the girl who left me. I swear, to this date, I don’t know which occurred. Maybe we just left each other. Whatever happened isn’t important just now, the point is, I lied and told Betty Lou I was getting back together with the girl I had been dating. Her reply was simply, “Oh. Well then… good for you.”

 Good indeed for I had averted a near disaster. I think this girl’s sole intention in life was to find some boy, any boy, marry him, and escape the ruling thumb of her mother. This strategy rarely ends well. Usually the girl finds herself out of one frying pan smack dab into the middle of another. The second is usually a little hotter than the other. I had trouble understanding Betty Lou’s reasoning here. I thought her parents were pretty cool. I suppose there were issues not known to me.

 That wasn’t really important, all I knew was I had weaseled my way out of taking this girl on what appeared to be a date. Now I had a more daunting task ahead of me, what to do with the rest of the night.

 I called my best friend Greg hoping by some chance he wouldn’t be hanging out with his longtime girlfriend Denise. They’re getting married in June, a month after graduation. It only seemed fitting.

Just as I guessed, Greg and Denise do have plans. They’re doubling with Ed and his fiancé, Miranda. He told me if he had known earlier he could have fixed me up with one of Denise’s friends. He said goodbye and hung up the phone.  Five minutes later I get a call back from Greg. He has great news, Denise’s little sister Abby is without a date. He pleads with me to take her out.

 “Look Mark, Denise and I have been trying to get Abs set up for a year now.” He sighs and mumbles, “Come on Mark, she’s real cute and just turned 21 last week. She’s heard all about you and is dying to meet you.” He pauses and asks, “Whatta’ say, help out a friend…please.”

 How does a guy say no to his best friend? Reluctantly I agreed

I dashed around the house trying to get ready. What does one wear on a blind date? I picked out something appropriate, not too dressy, and not too casual. I kept wondering, “What am I doing.” I was nervous.

Part Four: Abby

 At 7pm I met Greg and Denise at a place called THE CLUB. A real tricky name I thought. Hiding behind Denise, barely visible is a shadow of a girl. She couldn’t have been more than 4’10” at best. She had , semi-wavy auburn colored hair, beautiful pale blue eyes, and a pinkish complexion. She was nothing like her sister, who was dark skinned, brownish eyes, and about 5’9”, tall for a girl back then.
“I’m sorry Mark,” Denise replied, “Abby is a little shy.”

 Shy is only the half of it. I thought she was going to turn and run at any second.

 “Me too,” I replied. “Especially around people I don’t know.”

 Abby peeked out from around her sister and said faintly, “Me too. Meeting new people gives me the shivers.”

 I briefly glanced her way and said, “You mean when it feels like you’re freezing and it’s a hundred degrees outside?”

 “Yes,” she said a little more boldly. “Do your hands get sweaty and clammy like?”

 “Yeah,” I replied. “That’s the worst part of it.”

  She cuts in and giggles, “And when you go to shake the person’s hand it’s like…all yucky and stuff.”

Slowly she began to move away from behind her sister. Her shyness didn’t seem to have quite the death grip on her as it did before. She was cute, just as Greg had said. What he failed to mention was just how cute she was. I hoped I was making a good impression, if only I could keep from making an idiot out of myself.

 “I won’t shake your hand if you don’t want,” she said timidly.

 “Ok,” I said, “we can just wave at each other.”

 Well, there goes not making an idiot of myself.  After that comment I was sure she’d turn and walk away, but instead she smiled and waved. “Ok,” she said. “I’m Abby, in case you haven’t already heard.”

 I smiled and waved back and replied, “I’m Mark, but I guess you already know that.”

 “What do you mean,” she asks.

 “I mean you already know all about me, that’s what Greg told me. He said you were dying to meet me.”

 “Why no,” she replied, “until a few hours ago I didn’t even know you existed.

 I glared at Greg and said, “You liar. I can’t believe you pulled this stuff on me. You told me…ah, we’ll talk about this later.

 Greg looked at me, and in his own defense said, “Look Mark, it was the only way I could think of to get you two together. It worked too, didn’t it?”

 “Yeah,” Denise responds on Greg’s behalf, “It worked didn’t it. Abby seems to have taken right to you. She never does that.”

 Abby looks at me and nods her head in agreement. “It’s true Mark.”

 “Is it?” I reply.

 “Yes.” She says sweetly.

 “Look you two,” Greg comments, “we could stand here all night and discuss this, but I’d prefer to sit at a table.”

 Denise looks around and spots Ed and Miranda. They had gotten there early and reserved us a place. We walked over and greeted them. Abby tagged along sort of trailing me and sort of hiding behind her sister. It was as if she couldn’t commit to one thing or another. Eventually she would be left with no choice but to sit beside me. I think that’s the way things work on a blind date.

 Abby and I glance at one another and smile. We shook Ed and Miranda’s hands with our own clammy, sweaty hands.

 She turns to me and whispers, “Yucky.”

 I had to laugh. I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Exactly my thoughts too. I think I need to go to the boy’s room and use some good soap and water to wash my hands.” 

 “Me too,” she says. “I’ll come with you.” And off we scooted, side by side, disappearing amongst the wildly gyrating crowd who were dancing to some crazy heavy metal tune. I think it was Magic Carpet Ride, but I couldn’t be sure. The volume was so loud all I could make out were the bass notes.

 Outside the bathroom she grabs my arm and says, “Meet me right here after you get out. Promise me you will.”

 “Ok,” I replied, “but why?”

“Are you serious,” she exclaimed. “I don’t want to be left all alone in this madhouse.”

 “Oh yeah, I get your point. I don’t want to go back out there alone either. If we stick together we have a better chance of getting back alive.”

 She looks at me and smiles. She turns and heads for the lady’s room. Before reaching for the handle she turns and says, “Hey you, I think we could be best friends.”

 I smile back and reply, “Yeah, me too.”

 While in the bathroom I started thinking, “This thing just might work out after all.”

 I know the bathroom isn’t exactly the best place to be thinking about such thing, but it was the first place I found myself after hearing what she said. “We could be best friends,” Oh how I wished that could be true.   

 I met her outside the lady’s room just as I had promised. We walked briskly through the crowd and sat down closely next to each other. We spent the rest of the night chattering like old friends learning as much about each other as we could.

 “I build model rockets,” she said.

 “What, are you kidding? I build rockets too.” I responded in amazement.

 Here is a girl who shares nearly every interest as me. She runs track and cross country, plays several musical instruments; the drums are her favorite, loves and owns her very own motorcycle, and builds model rockets too. How much better could life be?

 She looks at me with wide eyed excitement and exclaims, “I have a rocket with a super 8mm camera inside. It takes really cool films. If you want you can come over and we’ll watch them.”

 “Of course I want to,” I exclaimed excitedly, “I can’t wait.

 I looked at her in amazement, “I have some really neat rockets myself. I have the exact replica of the Mercury Redstone that launched the first American into space.”

 “REALLY,” she said. “Will you come over tomorrow and bring it with you? I’ve been just dying to see one of those. They’re so rare; I don’t know anybody that has one.”

 “Sure,” I said. “I can’t wait.”

 “Bring some engines with you too, we’ll go out and launch a few. I have a special place where I go to launch.”

 “Sure,” I said.

Part Five: The Long Dance

 We sat silently for a moment when the band began to play, Put Your Head On My Shoulder.

 “Oh I just love that song,” she said.

 An awkward moment past before I replied, “Me too. Would you like to dance?”

 She looked at me as if she were surprised. She hesitated a moment then said,

“Yes, yes I would. I’m not very good, and I apologize beforehand for stepping on your toes.”

 “That’s ok,” I said. “I’m not so great myself.”

 We stood momentarily surveying our situation when I clumsily grabbed her right hand. I put my left hand gently around her waist and we began moving slowly around the floor.

 I could feel my heart pound against my chest. I moved slightly away fearing she might feel it too. She then did something unexpected. Instead of allowing me to move away, she pulled me closer. She placed her right hand against my chest while my hand wrapped around hers. She placed her left hand around my neck and pulled me closer still. With my right arm still wrapped around her waist, I held her gently but tightly. Softly she rested her head on my shoulder and we danced. We never heard the music when it stopped playing, we kept moving as if nothing had changed. The band began playing an up tempo tune, but we kept on moving slowly across the floor. People began looking and laughing. A funny and strange thing happened, everyone on the floor began to dance slowly too. The band was confused and stopped playing. They regrouped and began playing, Earth Angel, another oldie from the 50s.  

 At the songs conclusion Greg tapped me on the shoulder and said,

 “Hey buddy, the song ended two minutes ago.”

 I turned, rather surprised to see him there, and mumbled, “Uh, what?”

 I turned and looked into Abby’s pale blue eyes. For some strange reason I felt compelled to kiss, and I did.

 Her lips tasted like honey. I didn’t want to stop, but not wanting to seem too bold or too forward I pulled away.

 “I’m sorry,” I said.

 She looked up at me shyly and whispered in a sweet voice, “I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t.”

 We held hands as we walked back to our table. The night passed all too quickly as we stood at the front door of her house. I leaned over and kissed her again.

 “See you tomorrow?” she asked.

 “Yep,” I said, “how about eleven?”

 “How about 9:00,” she smiled. “And don’t forget to bring your rockets.”

 “Ok,” I answered.

 I turned and walked to Greg’s car. He looked at me and laughed.

Author's Note

Sometimes you wonder how life might have turned out if you had made different decisions.

Reviews

[SkinlessFrank]

Sounds like you made the right decisions. The story is a compelling one, and brings me back to those days. My advice would be to work on showing how the relationship took off (in sections IV and V). The shared interests is only part of the story I think. These two were destined to be together for some as of yet unspoken, cosmic reason. You need to show us that reason.

[Marie]

I didn't ead this all at once, but a part at a time. Very touchng story of teen-age romance.