by Shawn Inmon
When they had finished the second set, Curlee and Cassandra said goodbye to everyone and walked out into the cold night air.
“That went better than I expected,” Curlee said.
“It was all in the name, Robby Jimson.”
“You noticed that, huh? I know genius when I hear it.” Curlee glanced at his watch. “It’s not even midnight yet. Where to my lady? Want to go back to my place for a nightcap?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Cassandra did want to go back to his place. She found herself undeniably attracted to Curlee, in a way she had never experienced before. She had loved Jimmy dearly and found him attractive. This felt different, though. With Curlee, she felt a pull and attraction like she’d never known.
Come on, Cassie. You only look eighteen. You’re a woman of a certain age who is experienced in the ways of the world. She swallowed hard. But not particularly experienced in the ways of the bedroom.
She reached out and put a hand on Curlee’s bicep and leaned her head over onto his shoulder as they walked.
“I really would like to come back to your place, but I won’t.”
“That’s confusing.”
“Until a few hours ago, I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. Now, here you are, asking me back to your bachelor pad.”
“If you call it a bachelor pad, you might be disappointed in its modesty.”
“Be that as it may, I’m not comfortable going back to your place.”
“I was just thinking we could have a cup of coffee.”
“I know what you were just thinking. Do you know how I know? Because I was thinking about exactly the same thing.”
That brought Curlee up short. The Summer of Love was just a few months away, but it was still unusual for young women—proper young women like Cassandra, at least—to speak about sex so honestly, so soon.
“And, I know what would happen if we went back there. So do you.”
“Almost, but not quite. I know what I hope would happen if we went back. Only you know whether it would or not.”
“Then, let’s say I don’t trust myself. Plus, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Let’s go for a drive, and you can tell me all about yourself.”
It would have to be a pretty long drive for me to explain everything about myself. Any story that starts out with ‘I’m really a seventy-year-old woman’ is going to take a while to tell.
“I’ll start you out with one fact. I’m a virgin.” True, technically.
“Oh.” Curlee said it in a small voice.
Cassandra knew she had finally caught him off-guard. It punctured his bravado and made him even more appealing to her.
“That’s reason enough that I’m not going to go back to your place tonight.”
Curlee nodded and stood stock still beside his car. The conversation had taken an entirely unexpected turn and he had no idea how to get it back on track.
Cassandra melted against him. He was emanating heat from performing onstage. Curlee was six inches taller than her, but she reached up and kissed him on his neck. She inhaled deeply, loving the smell of him.
“That doesn’t mean not ever. It just means not tonight.”
She tilted her head back and looked at him in the moonlight. He dipped his head and kissed her. Softly, at first, then harder.
What felt like a too-short eternity later, Cassandra broke away. “Whoo. I think that would get us there pretty quick. Time for me to go home, while I still can.” She walked quickly around to the other side of the car and climbed in.
Curlee, both hot and bothered and somewhat confused by the way he had lost control of the situation, climbed in, started the car and drove Cassandra home.
There were no parking spots near Cassandra’s house, but Curlee double parked right in front. It was late, and there was no other traffic.
“Don’t turn the engine off. I’ll just hop out.”
“I don’t know if anything’s going to turn my engine off after that kiss.”
“Try a cold shower. I’ve heard that works.”
Cassandra jumped out, but before she could close the door, Curlee leaned over and put his hand against the door. “When can I see you again?”
“If you don’t mind a houseful of women, you can come by tomorrow and I’ll cook you dinner.”
“A harem full of women, you say?”
“If you can convince these women of that, they’re all yours.”
“I’d be happy with just the one I’m looking at.”
“Better answer. Come by about six. I’ll have dinner on.”
CURLEE DIDN’T GET THE full impact of the crowded house when he arrived the next night. Two of Cassandra’s roommates had study sessions elsewhere, but they both asked for a full report on him when they returned. That left just Cassandra, Carol, Barbie, and Curlee for dinner.
Cassandra made a roast, baked with potatoes and carrots, and a salad.
When Cassandra let him in, Curlee gave her a hug and whispered, “I don’t know what smells better—you or whatever’s coming out of that kitchen.”
“You’re such a smooth talker, Robby Jimson.”
The four of them had a nice dinner. Curlee had brought a bottle of wine, which was gone before dessert. Happily, Carol had another bottle ready, just in case.
When dinner was finished—declared delicious and “just like mom used to make” by all—Barbie and Carol cleared the dishes.
“You two go on into the living room. We’ll handle these dishes, then we’re going to retire. We have early classes tomorrow.”
Cassandra knew that was a lie—neither of them were foolish enough to sign up for an early class—but she appreciated their thoughtfulness. Cramming five women into a tiny house was an exercise in patience, but they had all learned to care about each other and protect one another's privacy.
Cassandra and Curlee retired to the couch and Curlee picked up the guitar that was leaning against the arm.
“Yours?”
Cassandra nodded.
“May I?”
“Sure.” Cassandra knew from watching Curlee play the night before that he was a much better guitar player than she was.
He tuned it for a few moments, then gently played Scotch and Soda. He didn’t sing, just played.
Carol poked her head out from the kitchen and said loudly, “I don’t know who’s playing that, but it sounds better than what we usually hear, which is the same three chords being played over and over.”
Cassandra chucked a small pillow at Carol’s head, but she was already gone.
“Don’t pay attention to that. That’s what it’s like when you’re writing songs. That’s why I’m not much of a songwriter. I don’t have the patience for it.” He held the guitar out to Cassandra. “Play me that song you were working on the last night.”
“Oh, I’m still working on it.”
“I know, but I like it. There’s something there. Play me what you’ve got so far.”
Cassandra took her guitar, settled herself, and played. She sang a bit of the verse she’d been working on.
The music has a message
You can hear it, do you feel it?
Does it make you smile or cry?
Will it make you think?
Music, as the water
From a cup of human kindness,
Is a cup of love for all
If you’re thirsty take a drink
“I think you’ve really got something here, Cass. What’s it called?”
“I call it ‘Cassandra’s Endlessly Unfinished Song.’”
“Catchy. You’ve got a knack for these things.”
“I think that’ll be the title of my first album, too.”
Curlee reached out, asking for the guitar back. He took the melody she’d been playing and changed it a bit, enhancing it. “There. I think that works, don’t you?”
Just then, Carol and Barbie came around the corner with Cheshire grins.
You
two are so subtle.
“We’re going to bed now,” Carol said loudly. “We’ll probably play our radio pretty loud, so we won’t hear anything.”
Cassandra gave them a look, bugging her eyes out a bit to say, “That’s enough!”
Curlee didn’t take their cue. He stood up and said, “That’s cool of you two, but I’ve got to go.”
“Oh,” Cassandra said with a twinge of disappointment.
“Don’t want to overstay my welcome on our second date.”
Did I scare you off last night by not tumbling right into bed with you? If so, then that’s that. No tears from me.
“Walk me out, will you?” Curlee asked.
Curlee must have been living a charmed life that day, because he had found a parking spot just down from the house.
When they got to his car, he said, “I thought about what you told me last night. I was coming on too strong, and I’m sorry. I really like you, Cass. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since that night at the protest.”
“Sitting in the stairwell with your girlfriend at the time.”
“I know, I know. We never know exactly when we’ll be shot with Cupid’s arrow, though, do we?” He reached his hand out for Cassandra’s. “When can I see you again?”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Cassandra and Curlee saw quite a lot of each other from that night forward. Things progressed at a steady, measured pace. After their first date at The Wild Onion, Curlee never pushed her about sex, but let her call the shots.
It didn’t happen right away, but when it did it was at her prompting, although Curlee didn’t take much persuading. Everything about being with Curlee felt right to her. And when they were finally together, it felt really right to her. Chest-heaving, toe-curling, fireworks-going-off right. It was nothing she had ever experienced before, so she was like a seventy-year old kid with a brand-new toy. She nearly wore Curlee out, but she heard no complaints.
After they’d been going out a few months, two big changes happened on the same day. It was a Tuesday in mid-April and Curlee had dropped by The Golden Bear unexpectedly. Cassandra was in the middle of her shift, but she saw Curlee in line and waved to him.
She managed to sidle by him with her dish cart and said, “Hello, handsome.”
“Hello, gorgeous. What time do you get off?”
Cassandra looked up at the big clock over the doors. “In about half an hour, why?”
“I need to talk to you. I’ll cool my heels here and wait for you. You are always worth waiting for.”
“Truer words were never spoken. I’ll come find you as soon as I’m off.”
Curlee spent half an hour watching Cassandra work. It was a menial-labor job, the kind that anyone can find in any college town anywhere in America. Beyond being able to push a dish cart around to pick up saucers, cups, and plates, and run the big dishwasher in the back, it didn’t involve any special skill.
The thing was, Cassandra made it fun. She had a smile or a laugh or a kind word for almost everyone. Curlee noticed, though, that some tables, she just cleared and didn’t speak to the people nearby. When he looked at those people, he thought they looked like they didn’t want to be bothered.
“Great instincts,” Curlee said, quietly to himself. “She going to be good at whatever she decides to do.”
Half an hour later, Cassandra sat gratefully down across from him and lifted her tired feet up onto his lap.
“Another day in the salt mines.”
“I think you have fun doing this.”
“I must be doing it for fun, because I’m sure not doing it for the dollar twenty-five an hour they’re dropping on me.”
“Listen,” he said, slipping her right shoe off and massaging her foot, “I’ve got a better opportunity for you.”
“I think pretty much any opportunity is going to be better than this one.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you on about, that you’re slipping into your super-salesman mode. Not that I mind, as long as you don’t stop what you’re doing there.”
“The Ravens are no more.”
“Nevermore. Shouldn’t it be that the Ravens are nevermore?”
Curlee ignored her. “I’m serious.”
“You mean the band? Why? What happened?”
“Life happened, I guess. The lifespan of the average folk band isn’t very long. I think there are about a hundred people actually making a living at it and about ten thousand trying. Freddy heard from a friend in San Francisco who was forming a new band, and he wanted him for it. Dick decided to tag along, since nothing much was happening for us here.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”
Curlee shrugged. “S’okay. Like I say, nothing much was happening for us anyway. But, here’s the good news. I want to put a new band together with you.”
“Me? Oh, Curlee, you know I could never do that. I’m not much of a guitar player. At least, not yet.”
“No, you’re not,” Curlee agreed.
“Hey, you could lie a little and spare a girl’s feelings!”
“I really want your voice. I’ve got another guitar player and we can get by without a bass player, at least at first. But your voice, and I think, some of the songs you’re writing could really set us apart.”
“Who’s the other guitar player? Have you asked them about this yet?”
Curlee looked up at the ceiling and whistled innocently.
“What are you—” A flash of inspiration hit her. “Oh my God, you didn’t! You didn’t ask Billie, did you?”
“Maybe,” Curlee said, drawing the word out.
“Have you lost your mind?”
Once again. “Maybe.”
“What kind of a man wants to start a band with his new girlfriend and his most recent girlfriend, especially when there might be hard feelings on the part of that most recent girlfriend?”
“Me? Listen, Cass, Billie didn’t have any hard feelings toward you. She really liked you.”
“Yeah, probably right up until you and I started seeing each other. You don’t know women. That’s not the kind of thing that’s easy to forgive.”
“Billie’s just not like that. She’s cool. There’s a new spirit in the air. I hear about it all the time when I’m in San Francisco. Free love.”
“Love is never free,” Cassandra said, regretfully pulling her foot away. “And are you partaking in this ‘free love’ when you’re visiting San Francisco?”
Curlee, who was rarely serious, turned exactly that. “No. Not since we’ve been together. I know what that would do to you, and to us. For better or worse, I’m all yours.”
Cassandra was slightly mollified, but not in a forgiving mood just yet. “So, you already asked her. What did she say?”
“She’s excited about it, but there’s something else.”
“Oh, good, the surprises never end. What else?”
“She’s got this unbelievable place in Haight-Ashbury. That’s where things are really happening, not up here. Here, it’s all protests and anger. There, the flower children have taken over and they’re cool. It’s a great vibe.”
Cassandra held her hand up, stopping the sales pitch right there.
“Wait. Are you suggesting that we move in together? And what’s more, that we move in together with your ex-girlfriend?”
“It made a lot more sense when I was driving here. But really, what do you have holding you here?”
“This job,” Cassandra answered, but couldn’t muster up any seriousness about it. “My roommates. I love them. They’ve gotten me through a lot.”
Curlee didn’t try to minimize that. He just nodded.
“This isn’t some ultimatum thing, like if you don’t do it, I’m going to do it anyway. If you don’t do it, we’ll figure something else out.”
“Do you really want to live together?”
“Don’t make it out to be such a big deal.”
“It is a big deal. A month ago, I was an innocent virgin. Then I met
you.”
Curlee winced a little at that, but again, didn’t argue.
Cassandra sighed. “That’s not fair. I’m sorry. I haven’t done one thing I didn’t want to, and I haven’t done one thing I regret.” She fixed Curlee with a steady gaze, contemplating.
What do I really have holding me here? I flunked out of school in short order. I don’t think Ethan will even notice that I’m gone. I love my roomies, but this was always going to be a short-term solution. I was even thinking of moving out on my own a few months ago.
She put her foot back on his lap and wiggled her toes.
“Let’s do it.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
The idea of their move was complicated, but the actual moving itself was simple. Curlee had been rooming with a friend who had a temporary empty bedroom and everything Cassandra owned fit in the trunk of her Mustang. Curlee didn’t have much more, so they knew they would be able to make it in a single trip.
There were only a few people she would need to say goodbye to—her roomies and Ethan.
The Monday before she left, she got up early and drove to Ethan’s. She wanted to make sure she caught him before he headed off to parts unknown to paint.
She needn’t have worried. When she knocked on his door, he answered with hair askew and sleepy eyes.
Cassandra stepped inside and looked around. His room was unchanged from first time she had seen it—piled high with canvases and stacked with painting supplies.
“Sorry to wake you up, Ethan. I’m just moving away tomorrow, and I wanted to be sure to come by and tell you goodbye.”
“Goodbye?” Ethan said, still not quite awake.
“I’m moving to San Francisco tomorrow. I’ll really miss you. Thank you for everything you’ve taught me. I know I’ve learned more from you than I ever would from some painting class. You’re a jewel. I’ll never forget you.”
Ethan looked blankly at her.
She smiled at him, hugged him, and let herself out.
The next morning, Cassandra was once again up early and had everything packed away. Her belongings made a pitifully small pile on the floor. Carol, Barbie, and Dara surrounded her in the living room and wrapped her in a hug.
