by Susan Ward
“Get out,” he ordered.
There was no next move for me after that. Walter ordered me to leave directly so I left. I was eighteen and it was the way things were then, even if every part of me wanted to break in the bathroom door, to tell Lena to let go of everything before me, the things that made her life so hard and unhappy, and be with me forever.
I should have done it, but I didn’t. I headed toward the elevator, giving in to my trademark confidence that once I was planted on the east coast, if I’d call her she’d come to me, and leaving today wouldn’t change anything.
But, of course, I was wrong.
The first, and definitely not the only time I’d be wrong with Lena.
She wasn’t like any girl I’d known before her.
Her life was different in ways I couldn’t comprehend and our relationship, for her, was built on things I didn’t understand yet. It was complicated, like her, on all levels. Even in how and why it began.
But the mistakes I made were not solely caused by youth or arrogance or obedience. In fact, they were caused by love. It was inconceivable that she wasn’t feeling the same way I did. So much so that it blinded me to the very reasons everything would be different between Lena and me. And in truth, as hard as loving Lena would be, I never regretted a single moment of it. I would willingly repeat every step the same way, even the missteps, because there was no way to ever know for sure which moves wove my life with hers.
It was the first time I’d ever pursued a girl. It wouldn’t be the last time I chased after Lena. It was the first time a girl ever made a fool of me, and even if she thought my fascination with her was amusing and something to toy with, I couldn’t care less.
I was a man in love.
There is nothing on this earth more obvious than that. Though I didn’t mind, and it was but the first life truism I’d learned from her: I would rather live a life obvious, thought a fool, and laughed at, than to have been consigned forever devoid of true feeling as the Jack before her had lived—and yes, I would have preferred she thought me amusing forever rather than to pass a single day not being loved by Lena.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way.
Chapter Fourteen
On Saturday, I left for Harvard with Georgie. We headed out across country in my silver Porsche Roadster, as we’d planned to, as if nothing had changed, but everything for me had changed.
My body was in the car, but nothing else. Every other of part of me Lena had taken with her. The miles passed, barely noticed by me. Every time we stopped, I found a phone to call her. I never got an answer, and worry and regret overshadowed all else in me.
I should never have left her with her father…
“Jackie boy, what the hell is the matter with you?” George finally blurted out four days into the trip after I’d made what I was sure was my hundredth unsuccessful call to Lena.
I shrugged. “Just checking on a girl, that’s all.”
That made his eyes widen. “A girl? That is you, isn’t it, sitting in the booth with me? You, Jack Parker, is running through the change in your pocket every time you spot a phone, calling a girl?”
The way he studied me made me feel uncomfortable.
I grimaced. “It’s no big deal. Stop staring at me that way. You call Patty every night from the room.”
“Yes, right in front of you. The way a man should call his girl. Why do you sneak off to call your girl? And since when do you have a girl?”
He shook his head at me as he lifted the bun from his burger to add ketchup.
“I don’t know that I do,” I replied finally.
Georgie frowned. “Do what?”
I shrugged. “Have a girl.”
He made a face at me as though I were speaking gibberish. “What aren’t you telling me, Jack? Spit it out. You tell me everything. Eventually.”
But, of course, I didn’t. Georgie just thought that. I’d never told him about Gloria and, for some reason, I didn’t want to tell him about Lena either.
He sat there chomping on his burger, waiting. Then he began to nod. Shit.
“You finally knock up some girl, Jackie?” he asked, sitting back against the booth. “Is that why you hid from Gloria the last night home at my house? And is that why the senator is walling in your property with an eight-foot fence that’s got my dad steaming? Building a wall to keep Jack out? Yep, that’s it, isn’t it? The senator’s son knocking up a girl, that’ll do it.”
“Wrong. Jeez, you’re a jerk sometimes, Georgie.”
“Logical assumption with the way you’re behaving. You’ve been acting like a guy with the weight of the world on him. Knocking up some girl—that’ll do it.”
“That was insulting. And I’m not behaving any way.”
He shoveled fries into his mouth and kept staring at me. He wasn’t going to let this go. Fuck.
“I met a girl our last week home,” I explained, purposely not giving any details. “I’m worried about her. That’s all.”
“What’s the story?”
“There’s no story, George. I spent a week with her. She went home and I’m here with you on my way to Harvard. Doing exactly what everyone expects of me. It was no big deal. Done. Over.”
He wiped his mouth with a napkin and then sat back in the booth and met my gaze directly.
“Doesn’t sound over to me. What aren’t you telling me?”
Nope, I wasn’t telling him more. What I’d already confided had been excruciating to share, and it wasn’t even the worst parts of it. How it ended with Lena when her father had showed up at the hotel and dragged her back to New York. And worse, that she had picked her father over me.
I tossed my napkin on the table. “Mind your own business, George.”
He didn’t bring it up again the rest of the drive to Cambridge. Georgie was a good friend that way.
Ten days later, we rolled to a stop in front of the house we’d share until Georgie graduated in two years. I chose to live with him off campus instead of the dorms—too restrictive on the girl and booze fronts—and like hell was I going to join a fraternity like the senator.
Pop may have had my life mapped out in minute detail, but who I was going to be at Harvard I was determined would be my decision.
Georgie turned in the passenger seat to look at me. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said, slightly embarrassed. He was rich, but his father was frugal and working class and always would be. Whereas I—
That it wasn’t at all liked I’d pictured it didn’t matter to me. That it wasn’t home and that there was no Gloria made it just fine in every way. Without Lena, nothing held significance. Not even where I’d live for the next four years of my life.
I shrugged. “It’s fine, Georgie. Any place with a bed where I can sleep sounds perfect to me.”
“Sleep? Don’t you want to go out? I can show you campus, introduce you around some. They’ve got some great bars here.”
“Not tonight, George. Maybe later.”
We grabbed our bags. Inside I was introduced to our other roommate. He was lying on a couch, picking out something on a guitar. His name was Reginald Dunlap, known as Reggie Dun when he played bass with his band.
He was from Southern California, Orange County, and he seemed an all right sort of guy. In fact, he reminded me of me—blond hair, blue eyes, cavalier expression, sun-gold skin—and it was a little amusing George had buddied up with a guy like me at Harvard.
George opened a door at the end of the hall, switched on a light, and pointed. “This OK for you, Jackie?”
Jeez, the way he said that made me feel like an asshole, as though I were some elitist jerk, as if somehow things being OK for Jackie mattered. I wondered if I hadn’t been a very good friend to George.
“It’s great,” I assured him.
He smiled. “Then I’ll leave you to unpack. Maybe a bar later?”
He wanted to go out and he wanted me with him, and it didn’t take being a rocket scientist to unders
tand this. George and girls: no bueno. Me and girls: the opposite. He still hadn’t sealed the deal with Patty, and he was wanting to get some elsewhere.
I couldn’t blame him. He was a twenty-year-old virgin, and crap, it probably felt like hell. I rationalized it in my head as being better for Patty if my friend took his maiden journey elsewhere. Crap, George was horny twenty-four hours a day and looked it. Nope, that wouldn’t be the best kind of first time for Patty.
“Sure thing, George. Give me a couple hours.”
He shut the door and I found a phone in my room so I tried to call Lena again. No success, no answer, and no longer a surprise.
Seven hours later, we were in a smoky bar down four pitchers of beer, and Jackson Parker was happy-go-lucky Jack again. Everyone within a hundred yards knew my name. I was charming the girls, trying to toss a few George’s way, and listening to Reggie on stage with his band.
It was the way I always expected it to be in college, only I no longer wanted it. Worse, I went home with a girl my first night there and nothing had ever made me feel lousier.
But after that, claiming all hours I wasn’t in class were more bars, more parties, and more girls, and each day I thought of Lena less.
Chapter Fifteen
Eighteen months later I was nearly flunking out of school even though I was still only taking survey classes, and I had a reputation among the girls and a nickname.
Good Time Jack.
When Patty explained why they called me that, I’d learned it wasn’t completely complimentary. Good in bed, worse out of it, and definitely not boyfriend material.
Well, that’s what it meant, according to my last girlfriend who had shared this tidbit with Patty because she’d felt like a fool for having not listened and wanted to warn Patty off me before she made the same mistake.
All three were nothing new for me. The girls back home had said pretty much the same thing. Patty thought it was hilarious, and like in Santa Barbara, it didn’t slow me down in my ladies’ man lifestyle. In fact, in some circles going to bed with me was a badge of honor like it had been with our beach bunnies.
Only now I deserved the good in bed part of my reputation, because one thing had changed after Lena: I was no longer a selfish guy sexually. I knew how to give a girl pleasure in a variety of ways that drove them crazy and kept them coming back for more.
Quite a find, according to the girls in Cambridge.
The morning started like any other, with Georgie knocking on my door to get me up before he left for class and some girl I didn’t know naked in bed.
I was doing catch gigs with Reggie’s band whenever they needed me to fill in for their lead guitarist, though in my opinion, they should have given me the slot full time because the other guy was a terrible musician.
I’d been drunk on stage the night before and later in bed. Reggie and the guys hadn’t minded, and the girl hadn’t either. The booze made me better at both my favorite diversions. Music and fucking.
Another pound against the door and it made my head feel like it was about to explode.
“Jack, you’ve got Willard’s class in ten minutes. You’re already on academic probation and if you flunk it, you’re out of here and back home with Gloria.”
That got me awake, and yep, in a drunken night of guy talk, after I’d received the check for my living expenses from my father—who wasn’t talking to me—I’d finally told George everything. About Gloria. About Lena. Bared my soul, rambling and pathetic.
I thought purging my worries would help get rid of what they were doing to me. Yes, again, I was drunk and it didn’t.
“Get moving.”
“Yes, Mother,” I shouted through door, but George only laughed.
I dragged myself out of bed and then looked at the girl. I couldn’t imagine how she’d slept through Georgie, but she had.
I tapped her on her bare hip. “Come on, doll. You’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to get to class.”
She turned over, squinting from the light. “I don’t have class today. Do you mind if I sleep here a while?”
Whoever she was, she was gorgeous. Long blond hair and bright green eyes. Definitely nice rack and just as good a body.
I smiled. “Nope, sleep away. In fact, stay until I come back.”
Her eyes sparkled since she knew what I was telling her. “I can do that. Can you?”
I frowned as I dressed. “What do you mean by that?”
She started to laugh. “Oh, Jack, every girl knows about you. They say you never come back for a second helping.”
“Well, that’s news to me. Sometimes I come back for third and even a forth helping.”
She giggled, like the girls always did, when she should have slapped me instead.
She sank back onto the pillow and stared up at me dreamily. “I’ll wait just to see which one of us is right.”
I dropped a kiss on her nose. “If you wait it better be for more than that, doll.”
“You probably don’t even remember my name,” she taunted, but her laughter followed me out the door.
I grabbed my books while trying to finger-comb my hair, and hurried out the door to run smack-dab into George.
Fuck, he was waiting on the porch and he had that serious we need to talk look on his face. Not a good thing.
I trotted right past him down the steps. “I thought you’d left.”
He caught up with me on the pavement. “You mean you wish I’d left, Jack.”
I fished in my pocket for a cigarette. “By the way, what’s the name of that girl in my bed? Do you know?”
He rolled his eyes at me. “You, Jackie, have got a couple problems you need to fix.”
“Only two?” I jeered.
“Yep, two, but they’re big ones. Booze and girls. Both are a problem.”
I laughed. “I’m in college, Georgie. What do you expect? Isn’t this where we’re supposed to sow our oats before marriage and reality hits us?”
“I graduate this spring, and I won’t be here to watch out for you anymore.”
“Who watches out for who, Georgie?”
He glared.
We both knew what I meant.
“It’s not going to end well, Jack, unless you fix your problems real soon.”
“How’s it going to end?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how do you know it won’t be good?”
He stopped. “Damn it, Jack, I’m being serious here. You’ve got to cut down on both the booze and the girls. I’m worried about you.”
I sighed. “Well, don’t be worried. I’m not and you shouldn’t either.”
He started walking again. “You’re like a younger brother to me, Jack. I can’t stop worrying now.”
“You going to New York to see Patty this weekend?” I asked, deliberately changing the subject.
He shrugged. “Don’t know yet. She hasn’t called me this week. She’s always so busy. Last year signing up for CORE and the Freedom Riders; this year Students for a Democratic Society. She hardly ever wants to see me. ‘Not this weekend, George. I’m busy doing important things.’ Why do girls find it necessary to do important things? Maybe I should become a club.”
“Then call her,” I said, beating back a smile. “Go to a meeting with her. Show interest in what she cares about if you want her to show an interest in you.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. If I get labeled a troublemaker I won’t ever get into law school.”
“That’s not going to happen, George. And she’s giving you the cold shoulder because she wants to share with you the things that matter to her. You should have gone on that freedom ride with her instead of sending me in your place to watch out for her. Boy, that was obvious and it pissed her off royally. Her causes aren’t fads for her. She really cares. So if you want her to care for you, take her seriously, show an interest, and stop worrying that something terrible is going to happen if you do.”
“There were riots. You got arr
ested with Patty on that ride.”
“Yeah. So? We were doing the right thing, Georgie. Doing the right thing isn’t going to keep you out of law school. I’m back at Harvard going to class like always. You worry too much. You’re going to worry yourself out of having a girlfriend.” But that didn’t help, he still looked miserable, so I added, “Go see Patty this weekend. You can take my car to the city if you want to. I’ve got a gig with Reggie on Saturday.”
My car was part apology for being a prick earlier and part peace offering, since George’s dad was holding off until he graduated Harvard to buy him one.
We were at the fork on the walkway where we split directions. “See you later, Georgie.”
He pointed at me. “Less booze. Less girls.”
Christ, he said that loud enough for people to hear. Inwardly I groaned and outwardly I smiled as I made my way to the lecture hall.
When I finished my classes for the day, I didn’t head back to whoever that was in my bed. I took off with my friends for the evening. It was Friday, and we always kicked off the weekend in style.
It was after two in the morning when they dropped me off at my place. I hadn’t brought home a girl; I didn’t want to piss off Georgie. I’d decide to play it cool, keep things low-key for a while.
I noticed the black Oldsmobile parked at the curb in front of the house, though I couldn’t make out the shadowy figure in the driver’s seat. I found Georgie sitting on the steps, his expression telling me he was waiting for me again.
I frowned as I went up the walk, because I could feel it. Something wasn’t right here.
“Everything OK, Georgie? What you doing out here?”
“I thought it better to wait for you here.”
“Wait for me?” I propped one leg on the steps. “What’s going on?”
“There’s someone waiting for you inside, Jack. I thought I should give you a heads-up.”
My eyes went wide. “Heads-up? What are you talking about?”
