Chapter 54: A Busy Saturday: Jasmine

Saturday, February 13, 1982 (continued)

I quickly changed into a gold shirt and my suit at home. Jasmine’s request — of course I went with it. I had no idea how it was going to play, and I hadn’t even owned a gold shirt before she asked me to get one. I hoped she liked it. Also, per her request, no corsage, no boutonniere.

I rolled up to Jasmine’s just before 5pm. She was already out the door, wearing a red dress with gold embroidery that looked very, very Vietnamese, and very good on her. The reason for the gold became more obvious. We were certainly going to catch a lot of eyes.

I met her with a hug and a kiss. “That dress looks incredible on you.”

She grinned. “It also looks really good on the floor. Later,” she said with a wink.

“I wasn’t even thinking that.”

“Well, you should have been! You look very handsome. I like the shirt. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

I offered my arm; she took it, and I walked her to the car. “Have you picked a dinner location for our date?”

“I have indeed. And I did not go with Vietnamese. That’s later.”

“Touché! Well done!” I helped her in, got in myself, and headed off. “So, need I be worried that you are exhausted courtesy of Sheila?”

I chuckled a bit. “No, not at all. And I’d be willing to bet you knew that.”

“You would be right. She called. She didn’t tell me that much, but I got the impression that she has things to tell me later.”

“I can’t tell you if she didn’t, only that we didn’t do more than play with balls.”

“Play with balls, huh?”

“Mini-golf,” I smirked.

“Of course.” She punched me in the shoulder. Not hard at all, though. “I am still going to find a girl you won’t talk out of bed. That said, I know you’re doing it for the right reasons, and that makes me proud of you and happy that you’re my boyfriend.”

“So, with you and your girl talk network — am I the only sophomore boy whose girlfriend is continually trying to get him to go right to bed with another girl?”

“No. Of that, I’m sure. There aren’t many, though. You do have a point there.”

“I’m not complaining...”

“You had better not!”

“ ... I’m just amused. I like it, actually. Sheila is a very interesting person; so is Lexi.”

“I’m amused, too. Pleased, though. And proud. Anything new with you, otherwise?”

“Angie and I got our applications off to Indiana.”

“I’m still not sure why you chose Indiana.”

“Angie might not have told you. Not many programs offer both Debate and Drama workshops, especially on an overlapping schedule. Northwestern, but that’s only for seniors-to-be.”

“Wait? Angie’s doing Drama? Seriously?” Jasmine sounded excited.

“Yes. She’s thinking she’s in good enough shape in Debate and wants to explore her options.”

“That’s ... really cool. Do you know if she’s going to take the class next year?”

“50/50? Remember, she decided on Debate in the last few days before school. If she does, I don’t know if it’ll be seventh, though. She may stick in Debate for seventh.”

“Well, that’d be less fun, but still. It’s been great having rehearsals with you both. You fit right in, except for the lack of relationship craziness. She’s been with the same guy for almost a year, for goodness’ sake!” Jasmine was grinning and didn’t look serious. Fortunately, too. I didn’t want to start worrying that some relationship clock was ticking away. “I got my paperwork off to USC. It just looks better. Maybe we’ll all be at Northwestern next summer. It really did look great!”

“Maybe so. I’d like that. Even if they watch over us pretty closely for ... misbehavior.”

“Ugh. I could do without that. Can I have mama sign a permission slip saying I can make up my own mind about sex?”

I laughed. “I’m doubting it. And I won’t be able to get such a permission slip.”

“Damn. Well, I can have all the fun I want with girls.”

“And likely will.”

“Damn straight! Wait, that should be damn gay, I think!”

I chuckled as I pulled into the parking lot at Brennerman’s. Jasmine smiled. “Ooh, pulling out all the stops, I see, Mister Marshall. This is a prom-level destination!”

I laughed. “You certainly deserve it, and I can afford it.”

“Not going to argue. I’ve only been here once.”

“It’s a family tradition for birthdays. Though Angie was told ‘no’ when she asked to go here, and probably can’t this year either.”

“Why?”

“Because of vacation plans.”

“Oh! That would do it, yes,” she said with a little giggle.

I parked, helped her out, and we headed in it. They’re busy Valentine’s weekend. I’d made this reservation months ago on the hope that I would have someone to bring here. If I’d had to cancel, they’d have filled it with no difficulty.

We were shown to a table for two with a nice view of the windows. “Oh! The peacocks! I remember that. They’re beautiful.”

“They are. But, then, so are you.”

She blushed just a trifle, taken by surprise. “Thank you, Sir. And you are most handsome.”

The waitress came over. She ordered a no-alcohol pina colada; I went with a rare-these-days Coke. I was waiting for Diet Coke to be introduced. I was pretty sure it was later this year. I was still planning on drinking less of it than I had before, but once it existed, I could give up on sugar Coke for good. No worries about aspartame for me, in particular — I figured nearly forty years of drinking diet soda proved I wasn’t about to have too much of an adverse reaction.

We mulled over the menu, deciding to split crab cakes. She went with a petite filet and a lobster tail; I went with a slightly larger cut of beef.

“So, I’ll just ask, being a nosy sort of girl. How do you afford to take a girl to Brennerman’s?”

“The easy answer is odd jobs. I have an allowance, but it’s not Brennerman’s money. At least, not unless I saved for months. I get a bit extra for major chores around the house, but so does Angie. I do price sheets for Dad’s customers using the computer. It’s easy for me but would be a mountain of work for them to do manually, and paying a professional would be expensive. Angie and I trade off things like updating his sample books. I’ve got a few other little odd-job things like that. I’d like to find more that really leverage skill and not just muscle. All of that goes into a brokerage account and we’ve been fairly lucky with investing.”

She chuckled, softly. “That wasn’t exactly what I expected. I like it, though. I have to wonder how many fifteen-year-olds have their own brokerage accounts?”

“At Memorial, probably quite a few.” She smiled and nodded. “Aside from seed money — allowance, gifts, and so forth — it’s all been my own doing, though.” Admittedly — but not to Jasmine — that ‘my own doing’ involved a lot of prior-knowledge sports-betting. Best not to mention that.

“Papa says that, after you have more than you need to live, it’s not having money that’s the big thing. It’s what you do with it. If you just spend it, you don’t really have it. If you respect it and manage it, you have it.”

I nodded. “I think so, too.”

“And this isn’t blowing a hole in your finances?”

I shrugged. “I can’t afford to eat here every night, but for big events? That’s what it’s there for.”

“I’m happy this is a big event. It is for me, too. I’ve only been to back-to-back dates with the same person once, and that was Homecoming and Halloween freshman year. Much less time in between, this time.”

“Me, too, actually. Same dances.”

“Well, yes, but you didn’t start dating a week before Homecoming nor break up on All Saints Day.”

“That is true.”

She shrugged and shook her head a little, smiling softly. “Enough about former relationships. Time for a classic girlfriend question, high school version. Where do you see us in a year?”

“Ahh. Interesting. Let me say, first, that my predictive abilities are lacking; I didn’t foresee either previous relationship ending so precipitously.” I hesitated, then reached across the table, taking her hands. She smiled warmly and gave mine a little squeeze. “A year ... well, we should be on a date. Maybe here, maybe not. I expect they’ll still put the dance that weekend even with Valentine’s on a Monday. Maybe here, maybe not. Someplace nice, I would guess. I’d need to keep up appearances.”

She chuckled. “So you would. Go on?”

“We’ll be just starting to really plan our summer. Will Angie and I go up early to visit relatives? Will we have some time to see more of Chicago with you if you go to Northwestern and can arrive early? Both Angie and I have places in Chicago I know we’d love to show you. I think we’ll be digging into whatever the spring show is...”

“You haven’t survived ‘Brigadoon’ yet, and you still feel committed to the spring show a year from now?” She looked a bit surprised.

I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll hate it by the end. You asked where I see myself, not where I’m committed to be. Things could change, and I’m not ready to do Drama Workshop in the summer, but I’m enjoying it, I’m making friendships beyond just my girlfriend, and I like Steffie. I think it’s good for me and it seems like I have something to offer. So, yeah, my guess is I’ll be back next year, auditioning for whatever makes sense for me to audition for.”

She smiled a bit more. “I was honestly afraid to ask that. Not just you being my boyfriend — that’s a big deal — but it’s nice just having a mature guy around. I mean, Charles and Marshall are almost okay, now. Alan’s nice. Gary’s ... not so bad. Ben and Paul are quiet. But the sophomores and freshmen? Ugh.”

“I have noticed that. When it comes to the acting they’re fine, but...”

“But they’re idiots way too much of the time. Or too quiet.”

“Testosterone poisoning. Or mousy freshman syndrome.”

She giggled a bit more. “That does describe it. I know you’re not lacking on testosterone, though.”

“I jumped from clueless nerd to social guy so fast I never came down with a serious case. Also, seriously, can you imagine Cammie or Janet or Lizzie, or Sue, or Sarah or Mel or Emily, or Angie for that matter, putting up with it from me?”

“Angie might indulge you. Might. And I wouldn’t put money on it; I think she seems indulgent only because you don’t need much indulging.”

“Just a reminder that I used to be close friends with Dave Mayrink.”

“Oh, goodness! Yeah. Hmm. That’s a good point, really. Put him in Drama and he’d act like the rest of them. His brain would short-circuit with all the girls.”

“Most guys will say or do nearly anything if there’s a girl involved. Mostly it’ll be idiotic, if they haven’t learned better. And most only learn with time or pain.”

“You managed.”

“Unexpected sister at almost fourteen, unexpected knock on the head. And reading many stories in which the guys actually have a clue.”

She nodded. “Okay, we have derailed a lot after your comment about rehearsing together for the show. What else, Valentine?”

“Well, I assume we’re still together if we’re on a date. That implies — I think — that you’re still mostly who you are and I’m still mostly who I am. We’ll have friends that are each other’s friends, which is already happening. Most likely you will have continued to fling girls at me...” she giggled a bit at that, “ ... and I’ll be friends with them, but in love with you. We’ll still be just sixteen and juniors; no plans for the house in the suburbs yet, but we’ll be looking at colleges. Will we wind up in the same place? That’ll tell us a lot of about where things are. That decision will be more like two years out — not quite, but close — but by halfway through junior year the field should be narrowing.”

Her eyes were misting up a tiny bit. I wasn’t quite sure what I’d said, but I could tell it wasn’t bad. It took her a minute to settle. “I want to be in love with you, then. A year from now, I mean. And, I can see it, with you. But, then, I’m in love right now, and I always see that when I’m in the heart of it. But you feeling that way ... it’s nice.”

“How about you? A year out?”

“Well, see, now I can’t answer that. I’ll say that I was reluctant to let myself feel that optimistic, and it’s entirely possible that something gets in the way. Fifteen, right? But I like the idea. I like it a lot.”

“So, since we’re being so romantic for Valentine’s...” She chuckled softly at that. “Here’s something that could get in the way, perhaps.” She stopped chuckling and looked curious. “Sadie Hawkins. I know you’re not asking. I’m sure you’re asking someone.” She blushed slightly, nodded. “I’m pretty sure someone is asking me. We’re in an open relationship; that’s fine. It’s just a dance. But it’s an obvious place where we’re going to be dating other people, people who, presumably, wanted to date us. Which is different from, say, Lexi, who I’m pretty sure isn’t going to try to get between us. Or Sheila.”