by Fred Allen
Age 12-almost 13-was a very difficult time for any boy and particularly for Robbie who saw his world gradually falling apart. Robbie’s cornerstone was the combined love of his father and the hero worship and immense pride he felt for the respect his father’s deeds had earned for him in the community and, indeed, throughout the country.
Things were changing and while Robbie may have had some difficulty in identifying and explaining the changes, he just knew that things were not the same and his deepest fear was that things would never be the same again and Robbie was both unhappy and feeling the first inkling of insecurity.
His mother continued to doze in the front seat and Sandy continued to divide her time between reading and what appeared to be deep meditation. Wee Willie was the one constant-he continued his deep and blissful sleep.
Chapter III
ALEXANDRA MARIE MARSHALL - (SANDY)
At a few days after her eighteenth birthday Sandy Marshall could easily be taken to be her mother’s younger sister. The resemblance was so striking that Sandy selected hair styles and wardrobe items that would reduce the physical similarities that appeared to be always evoking comments such as “Don’t you look like your mother”? etc…etc…
On meeting the mother and daughter it was almost impossible to fail to comment upon the striking resemblance. Both were very tall with exquisite features framed by long auburn hair with a slight reddish tinge. Both had full red lips, perfect gleaming white teeth, hazel eyes and bodies that attracted highly complimentary-if sometimes off color-comments from males of nearly all ages and which carried them with poise and a natural grace that was the envy of members of their own sex. If such beauty and natural grace could be attributed to ethnic origin, even Grandfather Ross would be the first to admit that his daughter and granddaughter were very French.
In her grandparent’s house there was one room-referred to as the den-which seemed to have been dedicated as a shrine to their only daughter. The walls were literally covered with pictures of her mother at all ages. There were public school pictures, high school pictures, including a variety of extracurricular activities, and a central portrait taken when, at eighteen, her mother became Miss Quebec City. This brought her to the attention of the organizers of the Victory Bond Drive on which she had met and quickly married Sandy’s father. Sandy had looked at some of these photos during the past week and found it really remarkable how her mother had “kept her age”.
While her mother was only thirty-seven, from the perspective of an eighteen year old, thirty-seven was absolutely ancient. Glancing at her mother, over the book she was occasionally reading, Sandy had to admit that her mother was an extremely attractive woman and she was also aware, judging from recent happenings, and comments overheard at Aunt Anita’s, men found her mother very attractive.
Sandy and her mother had never been really close. The bond that had been established between Robbie and his father just never seemed to develop between Sandy and her mother. The birth of Wee Willie and the care giving attention to the baby by Sandy, Robbie and their mother, brought them closer together but this seemed to disappear as her mother became more interested in Aunt Anita and her social life. Since she had entered her teens, Sandy had found her mother increasingly distant and even self-centered. Her mother just seemed to be bored by her existence as a housewife and her father was adamant in his refusal that she seek employment. University courses were offered as an option to occupy her time but after one unsuccessful experience with an extension course in French literature, Marie-Louise decided academia was not for her. There appeared to be a gradual but continuous drifting apart in mother-daughter relations and, because of this situation, Sandy found herself in a rather difficult position two weeks earlier when she came to the inescapable conclusion that she was pregnant.
For many days Sandy had struggled with the few options available to her. The logical course of action would be to tell her mother. While she had always been fairly close to her father, he was away so much it was very difficult to find the right time to tell him-if there were such a thing as the right time for such an announcement. She finally told Aunt Anita and only because the two incidents that had probably led to her condition had occurred at her house. That was a mistake, because Anita made it immediately obvious that she did not want to become involved in any way and threatened to tell Sandy’s mother immediately. Sandy realized later that she should have anticipated this reaction when Jonathan’s name had come up as the possible father. Anita and Jonathan had been very close for several years. After this Sandy had no other option but to tell her mother before Anita did.
Her mother’s reaction should really have been predictable. She regarded this bombshell as something that was largely a threat to her social life and her reputation in the community. Thoughts of the potential consequences to her daughter came only after consideration of the impact on her. Then, the obvious questions..”When?” “Who?” “Was she sure?” Mercifully, Sandy was spared the other question so often asked without thinking-”How?” The situation was not helped by Sandy’s inability to provide exact answers to the first two questions.
It was not that Sandy was really promiscuous. There had been only two boys and one time with one and two occasions with the other that had ended in anything that, at least in her opinion, could have been responsible for her condition and these had occurred about a week or ten days apart.
The first had been Trevor Martin, who had just completed his freshman year at the university. Sandy had known Trevor in high school and they had dated a number of times both in high school and during his freshman year at university. In fact, he had escorted her to two major social events at the university and these invitations aroused considerable envy with her high school classmates.
Trevor had called asking for a date but she explained that she had promised Anita that she would baby sit that night. He had asked if he could come over and “help” with the kids and he would bring some of the records that had been her favorites when in high school. It was Friday and she knew Anita would be out very late and, of course, Anita had never discouraged her baby sitters from having company while baby sitting. Sandy agreed and Trevor had come over at about nine o’clock after the kids had been put to bed and were fast asleep.
They had played records for a while and Trevor had discovered half a bottle of champagne in the fridge and poured two glasses. Anita had always encouraged her to help herself to a glass of wine while baby sitting if she felt so inclined so she joined Trevor for a few toasts to old times and old memories. Sandy really enjoyed wine, especially Champagne, and did not object when Trevor poured two more glasses.
Their dates in high school had been pretty typical high school dates that had progressed over successive dates to the “heavy petting” stage but with limits always recognized even through the intense feelings of arousal generated by open mouthed kissing and the caresses of exploring fingers. Sandy knew that some of her friends had yielded to temptation and exceeded the limit and, while they did not brag about their experiences, their body language seemed to exude a newly acquired maturity that was not lost on their friends who maintained a tenuous hold on their virginity. But Trevor was a nice guy and he was safe. Thinking later about their heated sessions, Sandy realized that keeping her virginity was attributable more to Trevor’s restraint than her ability, or even desire, to control the situation.
The familiar music, and probably, the Champagne, quickly bridged the time gap from their last date and Sandy and Trevor were locked in each other arms and enjoying the excitement of the arousal of their young bodies. Sandy was really enjoying the waves of feelings that swept through her body and permitted herself to just float along on the waves of pleasure. Through the pleasant haze of the wine and the music she felt safe because this was her friend and Trevor was safe.
Sandy became vaguely aware that Trevor was doing things he had not done before. He was kneeling on the fl
oor between her parted legs. He had opened her blouse exposing her bare breasts and his lips went from one to the other and then, quickly, back to her lips. The sensations sweeping over her became even more intense as she felt his firm hands on her hips pulling her closer to him. His breathing was heavier as his lips were fixed on hers and she felt his body moving against her. Almost instinctively her hands tried to push at his shoulders but her strength seemed to have deserted her as he moaned and, slumping towards her, rolled to the side. He remained sitting on the floor.
Sandy slowly realized that something had happened and something that she really had not wanted to haappen.Trevor got up from the floor and after quickly adjusting his clothing sat beside her and put his arms around her. Tears flowed and Trevor tried to comfort her.
“Trevor, why did you do that…I didn’t want you to; you knew that.” Even as Sandy said this she wasn’t really sure what had happened but she knew that her skirt was around her waist, her panties had been pushed aside and there were feelings that she had never experienced before.
Trevor kissed her but now she resisted and pulled away from him. “Sandy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry but please don’t cry..don’t worry..I didn’t go all the way.”
Sandy stood up rearranging her clothing. He sounded sincere in his protestations and she found herself wondering if that was “it” and was that really all there was to “it”? Could this have been what was so often described as the defining event in the right of passage from girl to womanhood?
Trevor tried again to embrace her but she moved away from him saying that she had to check on the kids. He was still there when she returned and in saying goodnight, she submitted to one lengthy kiss followed by more of his protestations of how sorry he was and for her not to worry and that nothing had really happened.
This was an overnight sitting assignment so, after checking on the kids once again, Sandy went to the adjoining room which was hers for such occasions and sat at the vanity for a long time just looking at herself in the mirror. She could detect no difference in her appearance and if something had actually happened wouldn’t there be some change in her appearance? She reviewed as many details of the evening as she could. Was there really anything different from other similar sessions with Trevor and other high school dates. While she showered she carried out a more thorough examination and found nothing that would either fuel or ease her fears.
She went to bed but sleep was impossible. Her mind was continually reviewing the events and experiences of the evening. She reviewed all that she had learned about such boy/girl activities. These were hardly lessons learned as part of her formal education but during girl talk and these were often at sleep-overs and pajama parties where long girl talk sessions often became brutally frank with older girls introducing an element of realism by relating actual experiences.
Sandy reviewed the many actual accounts of “first times” absorbed during her extra-curricular education and found little to help her understand what had actually happened with Trevor. She knew there had been pleasure but not the level of ecstasy others had claimed in “going all the way” for the first time. There was none of the pain that some described and none of the physical signs that would normally be associated with such discomfort.
Trevor must have been right in his protestations that she should not worry because nothing had really happened. Her only misgivings came from the rather sketchy recollections of Trevor’s actions, the memories of his lips on her breasts, the intensity of her feelings as he had broken away from her and sat on the floor. Previous sessions with Trevor had been intense had never progressed to the exposed breasts, his positioning himself between her legs and the insistent pressure of his firm hands on her hips pulling her towards him. And never before had her clothing been in such disarray.
As Sandy tossed and turned trying to find escape in sleep she just couldn’t shut the night’s experience out of her mind. Reviewing the long intimate session had the inevitable effect of arousal and Sandy eventually sought the relief of a cold shower. The cold shower had the desired effect but before Sandy finally fell into a deep sleep she could not help but reflect upon the conclusion that if this had been actually “it” she would be justified in feeling cheated. How many girls concluded such an important evening with a cold shower?
The other incident involved Anita’s friend Jonathan Lacasse. Jonathan was a graduate student and part time lecturer in Physics at the university and had received his master’s degree at the spring convocation. He came from a very prominent family in Montreal and had already been accepted in a doctoral program at MIT. He would be leaving for Cambridge in late August on a full scholarship. He was a regular at Anita’s and it was obvious to even a seventeen year old baby sitter that mutual interests had quickly overcome their age difference of more than ten years. “Jonathan is so mature,” Anita would say and “best of all he is so French!” Jonathan was fluently bilingual but appeared to prefer to speak French. His sincerity and the always present support of hand gestures and body language brought most observers to the conclusion that his choice of language reflected true preference rather than affectation.
Of all Anita’s friends, Sandy found Jonathan to be the most attractive by far and she was not alone. All the girls-of all ages-coming and going at Anita’s seemed to develop crushes on Jonathan and even her mother had commented on how attractive he was. Tall, dark and very handsome, Jonathan had a sparkling sense of humor. He was a beautiful dancer and usually the first on the floor when the rug was rolled back at one of Anita’s parties.
Being fluent in French gave Sandy, her mother and, for that matter, Anita, an advantage with Jonathan. For her fluency in French Sandy could thank all of those holidays in Quebec City where even Grandfather Ross had accepted the inevitable that French was the principal language of the household. Also, Sandy and her mother, when actually speaking, usually spoke in French.
Perhaps what Sandy liked most about Jonathan was that he never talked down to her. He was never patronizing or condescending, something she encountered so often in adults. He always treated her the same as any other adults who might become involved in a discussion. He treated her as an adult and Sandy appreciated this, especially coming from a recognized BMOC. And then there was his dancing…
Sandy was a beautiful dancer for which she could thank her mother and a natural sense of rhythm. MarieLouise had actually taken modern dance and ballet from an early age and her obvious ability could have led to a career if it had not been for an early marriage.
Sandy was flattered, and not a little excited, at Jonathan’s apparent preference for her as a dancing partner. Anita’s household was, if anything, informal and very relaxed. So long as Sandy checked regularly on the children, she was regarded as just another member of the party. In fact, even when she was away from the big family room looking after the children, Jonathan would often seek her out when the dancing started, and stay with her until her duties were completed and then take her back to the party.
Dancing with Jonathan was more exciting than anything Sandy had ever done and became even more exciting when she often became aware that other couples had stopped dancing just to watch them. Most exciting was when Jonathan put on a tango. The dance of love Jonathan called it; a dance of near unbridled passion and that’s how he danced each number. As the music stopped Sandy always felt light headed and her knees seemed to have turned to jelly. Jonathan always ended each tango with a twirl and then drew her into a close embrace in which their bodies became nearly glued together with Jonathan looking deeply into her eyes. Sometimes Sandy felt close to fainting, her heart racing, fully aware of her arousal and equally aware of his silent response. Many times there was a measure of clapping from some of the other dancers and often comments such as “Just take it easy Johnny boy, she’s too young for that!” Or calls to Anita to keep an eye on them. One result was the near inevitable fantasies that seized control of her mind w
hen she went to bed and continued into her dreams when she finally dropped off into a fitful sleep.
It was two weekends after the Friday evening with Trevor and Sandy had been booked for the weekend by Anita who was going to spend the weekend with her cousin in Moncton who had a cottage on one of the beautiful sandy beaches in Shediac on Northumberland Straight. It was only after repeated entreaties from her cousin that she decided at about noon on Friday that she would take the kids with her but there were still the dog, cat and two birds for Sandy to look after.
It didn’t really make any difference to Sandy. She liked animals and the members of Anita’s menagerie were generally well behaved and, most important, the money was the same. She would take advantage of the weekend alone to catch up on her reading and watch some TV. There had been several calls from Trevor anxious to see her again but Sandy did not want to tempt fate again …it had been much too close the last time.
About ten o’clock she was reading and watching TV when she heard a car in the driveway and steps coming up the walk. Sandy was wearing what she referred to as her “Grubbies” and didn’t want anyone to see her in such attire. She quickly turned off the TV and scurried towards her bedroom. She touched up her makeup, changed into her good night gown and slipped on one of Anita’s long flowing robes. There was a gentle knock on her door and a quite voice asked “Anyone home?”in French. There was no mistaking that voice. It was Jonathan!