“Yes, and four years worth of gas too,” Melinda reiterated, even though he had just said that.
At one time, dealerships offered gas as an incentive to get people to buy a car. But that was during the economic crisis. Apparently they don’t do that anymore, except for people who can well afford it, and demand it, as in Melinda’s case.
“Of course,” he said, entering information into the computer. A minute later, the printer began to spit out legal-size paper.
The salesman stapled everything together and handed Melinda the contract with an ink pen. “Since you requested dual ownership, you both will need to sign here, and here, and initial here and here,” he said as he pointed out the signature lines.
As we signed it, Melinda asked me if I wanted to do the honors and drive the car over to Emily. I panicked. I had not driven in over a year. Not since I hit the jogger when I was drunk. I shivered just thinking about the terrifying sounds, the horrifying sight of him flying over the hood of my car.
“It’s okay, baby,” Melinda said, looking at me knowingly. “I’ll get someone to drive it for us.”
“Thanks, that would be good,” I said, very much relieved. I was ashamed to admit that I was scared to drive and sensed that Melinda understood. That horrible day was always with me, but I’m learning to live my life around it.
I called Emily and asked her to meet with me again. I told her I wanted her to meet my partner and wife. She was eager to meet Melinda so that she could thank her in person. Man, are you in for a surprise. At first, Melinda had suggested that we have Emily meet us at the pizza joint, but when she saw the look of utter shock on my face, she realized her mistake and back pedaled, telling me she must have been having a brain fart. Indeed, as Norma might say. I laughed and let her off the hook. Melinda suggested that we meet at the Dwinelle Parking Lot across from the Durham Studio Theater. Parking spots were very limited on campus, and she wanted to talk with the theater group about the ball afterward, so we’re killing two birds with one stone, as it were.
Melinda made arrangements with the salesman to have someone follow us to the college with the new car. It took us a while, but we finally got there, and the surprising part was that we found two parking spots right next to each other. Melinda said that never happens. She paid the young man who drove the new car and gave him taxi fare and a generous tip. Emily texted and said she’d be out of class in about fifteen minutes and it would take her another twenty minutes to get across campus, so we had some time to kill. Melinda had an idea on how to kill it.
The SUV we rented had completely blacked out windows on the side and back windows, and a back seat that folded down. My first thought was that we’d get caught, but she told me to stop being a prude. I’ll show you who’s a prude. I climbed over the front seat and scooched all the way toward the back, where a person would really have to work at seeing us making out in the dark. Before Melinda could kiss me, I made her promise we wouldn’t go all the way, which felt like a déjà vu from high school, but I didn’t want to be screaming in the parking lot. Plus there was the whole germ factor in that I wouldn’t be able to take a shower before meeting Emily. Maybe I really am a prude?
So our necking turned into more of a wrestling match, because I had to keep wrestling Melinda’s hands away from my crotch. Still, as hard as I tried not to, I did get aroused, which made it even harder for Melinda to control herself. Luckily for me, Emily called and said she was here, looking for us. So we quickly buttoned our shirts, combed back our hair, and jumped out the back of the SUV. Emily was standing there, looking at us oddly.
“Hi,” I said, smoothing down my blouse. “Um, have you been standing there long, Emily?”
“Oh, no, not long,” she replied. “I didn’t realize that was your SUV rocking back and forth.”
“How cool is that, Chris? We were rocking the wheels on this bad boy, and we didn’t even get to third base,” Melinda said with pride.
I could feel my face flush. “Yes, um, well, anyway. I’m glad you found us, Emily,” I said, and then put my hand on Melinda’s back. “This is my wife, Melinda, and she’s also my partner in the scholarship program.”
“Congratulations on being our very first award winner, Emily,” Melinda said, holding out her hand.
Emily shook her hand. “Thank you so much for the opportunity. I promise, I won’t let you down.”
“I believe you,” Melinda said.
“Emily, we have both been there, we know how hard it is,” I reiterated. “If you ever feel the urge to drink again, call me, and I’ll talk you out of it.”
“Thank you, that’s so kind of you. But I have a sponsor now, and she checks on me every day,” Emily replied.
“Oh, that’s very good,” I affirmed. “Now, there’s another reason that we asked to see you again, which has to do with a certain gift that Melinda and I want to give you, as our first awardee.”
“You mean there’s more?” Emily asked, looking all of twelve years old again.
“Yes. We understand that you have to take a taxi to get to school, so we—”
Melinda did the drum roll sound effect and I laughed at the way her lips were twitching.
“As I was saying.” I held up a set of keys. “We don’t want you to have to worry about getting to school, so we bought you a new car.”
“Tada!” Melinda shouted.
Emily turned very pale and for a moment I thought she might actually faint. Instead, she cried, her hands trembling at her lips. Melinda pointed at the Mini Cooper S Coupe parked beside our SUV, and said, “That’s yours.”
“Now, there’s only one proviso with this car,” I said. “When you’re able, you have to pay it forward. You have to do something nice for someone else, just because you want to. And I’m not talking about family, it should be someone you don’t know, and you should swear them to secrecy so that you don’t profit from the gift.”
“I will, I’ll do it,” she replied eagerly.
We left Emily sitting in her new car, watching its roof mechanically retract into the trunk, and then hitting the switch again to watch it come back out.
Tough Love — Melinda and Chris
Emily was so cute, sitting in that coupe when we left her. I have never felt so noble before. Usually it was all about self-aggrandizement, but helping others is very liberating. Change feels so good for a change.
Chris and I walked across the street to the Durham Studio Theater and talked with the kids, who were hanging around between classes, dancing, singing and otherwise practicing their craft. They were very eager to play dress up and party at a ritzy masquerade ball, as I suspected they would be. Even after Chris informed them that there would be no alcohol at our party, they still wanted to attend. Who wouldn’t want to party at one of Blackie Blackstones blowouts? Oops, we mustn’t speak in the third person anymore.
It was fun being on campus again. My father has been nagging me to continue my education and become a lawyer. Supposedly so that I could better understand the legalities in doing business on behalf of the Blackstone Corporation. I managed to get my bachelor’s degree in business so it would only be a few more years of college and then pass the bar exam. Being back on campus makes me want to reconsider my options. I wonder if Chris would go back to college with me. That would be a blast. We could help each other study while we neck behind the book racks the library.
Kate had set up an account for the kids at the largest costume rental place in San Francisco, and I instructed them to come dressed as their favorite golden age of Hollywood movie star. They were to play their part as sophisticates at a prestigious Hollywood gathering. I told them I was going as Katharine Hepburn so they needed to pick something else to wear. Some of them didn’t know who Hepburn was. What are they teaching the kids today? When I was a kid, I would stay up late and watch old movies on the weekend, and I was always partial to Hepburn’s character in the classic film Sylvia Scarlett. But even when she wasn’t playing a boy in a movie, she was w
earing trousers and controlling her own career. It was obvious that she was so far ahead of her time.
“Arrive at six,” Chris instructed, “and we’ll need everyone to leave at 8:30 P.M. sharp.”
With another task marked off our to-do list, we jumped in the SUV and headed home for some playtime. Except what I was about to do could have me sleeping on the couch tonight.
“We did a good thing today, didn’t we, baby?” I asked.
“Yes. Feels good, doesn’t it?” she replied.
“Oh yeah, that feels good, but my stomach doesn’t,” I complained.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. It’s cramping pretty bad.” I grabbed my stomach and groaned. “I think I’m going to throw up,” I exclaimed.
“Oh, no. Do you think you can hold it? We’re almost home,” Chris said, looking through her purse. “Damn it. I don’t have anything to help you, sweetheart.”
I pulled the SUV over and scrambled out of it and ran around to the shallow ditch beside the road. Chris jumped out of the car and knelt down beside me. I hunched over, holding my stomach with one hand. Chris held me as I heaved, but nothing came out.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, rubbing my back.
Finally, I sat back on my knees and wiped my forehead.
“Come on, I’m taking you to the emergency room,” Chris urged.
“No. It’s just something I ate. Please, get me home, where I can puke in private.”
“Are you sure, honey?” she asked, helping me stand up.
“Yes, positive. We need to hurry, okay. I feel another wave coming on.”
Chris helped me into the passenger seat, buckled me up, and then rushed around to the driver’s side. She climbed in and buckled her seatbelt, and then started the car. She hesitated. She looked at me in panic, and I didn’t think it was entirely over me. I groaned again, rubbing my stomach.
“Hold on, honey,” Chris said, patting my shoulder. She put the SUV in drive, hit the gas and spun the tires back onto the road.
“What did you have to eat that might do that to you?” she asked, as she turned onto Pierce Street.
“Baby, could you at least do the speed limit, I’m cramping again,” I asked, when I saw she was only doing ten miles an hour in a thirty mile an hour zone.
“I can’t. There’s a jogger, Melinda,” she stated, nodding toward a jogger running on the side walk.
“Please, baby. The cramps are really bad now.”
Chris gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white. She was murmuring something and then I heard an Amen. I could feel the car accelerate, and I looked at the speedometer. She was doing twenty-five as she passed the jogger. By the time we pulled into our driveway, she was more confident and almost relaxed.
“Okay, let’s get you inside,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.
“Actually, I’m feeling much better now,” I stated, getting out of the SUV.
“Oh, good, I’m so glad,” Chris said.
“I’m so proud of you,” I said as we walked into the house.
“Proud of me? For what, honey?” she asked.
“For getting behind the wheel and driving us home.”
“You were in pain,” she explained. “I had to get you home.”
“Well… about that,” I hedged. “Now, don’t be mad, okay?”
She looked at me for a moment, and then her eyes opened wide. “Oh, my, God,” she fumed. “You tricked me into driving, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, baby. I did. But it was because I didn’t want you to be afraid anymore. I mean, you faced your biggest fear, which was the man you hit, so this was the next logical step… right?”
“I am so pissed at you right now,” she snapped, and walked away.
Oh, shit! I ran after her and grabbed her arm. “Please, Chris. I was only trying to help.”
“By tricking me? So then every time you want to try and help me with something, you’ll resort to tricking me. Is that it? Is that how it’s going to be?”
“God, no, that’s not it. Come on, Chris. I was just trying—”
“To help. Yeah, I got that,” she said, walking off with a huff.
“Oh, dear. Are you two fighting again?” Norma asked, as we walked into the living room and sat in separate chairs.
“No, we’re not fighting because I’m not speaking to her,” Chris stated.
“Look, I really did think I was doing a good thing.” I turned to Norma and pleaded my case. “Chris all but panicked at the car dealership today when I suggested she drive Emily’s car over to the college. After all this time, Chris’ anxiety about driving has gotten worse, and I was afraid it was going to be permanent. Honest to God, I was only trying to help her.”
“And obviously you weren’t happy with her wanting to help you, is that it, Chris?” Norma asked.
“No, that’s not it, Norma. I’m not happy with the way she helped me,” Chris lamented. “She lied to me. She said she was going to be sick and that I needed to drive her home.”
“A lie to improve your quality of life is not necessarily a bad thing, dear. She was trying to help you to help yourself.”
“Whose side are you on, Norma?” Chris asked.
“I don’t choose sides, dear,” Norma replied. “I choose to see both sides of the coin. You’re upset with Melinda for tricking you, but her ruse wasn’t malicious in nature, so I can only assume that you’re really mad at yourself for needing to be tricked in the first place.”
“I love your double speak, Norma,” I said.
“And you, Melinda,” Norma added.
“Ut oh, here it comes,” I jested lamely.
“Your heart was in the right place, dear, but you did in fact manipulate your wife.”
“I, uh, it wasn’t like…” I stammered. “Okay, yes, I guess I did and now I feel really sick about it.”
“Well, you shouldn’t, Melinda,” Chris said. “Norma’s right, I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself for being afraid.”
“Then you forgive me?” I asked, holding my breath.
“Yes, of course,” Chris stated.
“Oh, thank, God,” I said, exhaling.
“But don’t ever do it again, understand? And I will be paying you back, make no mistake about that.”
I nodded and held up my hands. “Totally understand. It won’t happen again, baby, I swear.” Pay me back?
“I do love you for loving me like that,” Chris said.
“I love you, too,” I gushed. “Can we have makeup sex now?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Chris chuckled.
So Much Work, So Little Time — Felicia Livingston
Sitting in a cushy seat on board Melinda’s private jet, I drank champagne as I went over my notes. It was an intriguing idea, using a masquerade party to expose Melinda’s tormentor. I didn’t like the idea that the man who drugged Melinda would be mingling with college students, but the plan was to have them leave after just a few hours.
I put my concerns aside and concentrated on what I needed to do to pull the party together in a little over a week’s time. The Hollywood theme would make it easy to find decorations. After talking with Chris, I contacted the Blackstone Hotel to reserve their largest ballroom. The room was already booked. It took some finagling to move events around so that the room was available, but once they heard it was for the owner’s daughter, they bent over backward to help. They emailed me photos of the room, so I could going to decorate each wall with memorabilia from the Golden Age of Hollywood. First thing I needed to do was find a store that sold movie memorabilia, and I had no doubt there were a few of those stores in San Francisco. I needed to gather the usual items, such as cardboard standups of John Wayne, Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn and anyone else I could find. The Hollywood sign, of course, that I would hang from the wall with a back light to make it pop out. Old 8mm films and projectors would be a nice touch, and one of them could be showing silent films on the pull down s
creen in the corners of the room.
In spite of the reason for this party, it will look damn good and be so much fun, if I do say so myself. By the time I had completed a list of things I needed to do, we were landing at the airport. As we taxied to the gate, I saw a limousine with the driver standing beside it. Melinda had thought of everything.
Chapter Seventeen
Mini-Honeymoon — Melinda and Chris
When we weren’t helping Felicia with the party, Chris and I spent the next two weeks sightseeing. And not just in San Francisco either. Chris had never seen the California coastline, so I grabbed my camera and we took off.
We rented another car, leaving the SUV with Charlotte, and drove down the coastline on Highway One, which is one of the most scenic roadways in the country, or the world for that matter. As we got past the large population centers, I began to look for some sort of access to the beaches that were not surrounded by houses and people. Once we got past the community of Montara, there was a section of beach with no houses, or businesses, or even a parking lot. There was, however, a place to pull off the road, and from there we walk down a narrow trail to a patch of secluded beach. It was so much fun to see Chris’ excitement as she saw the waves washing up on the sand. We couldn't resist, we had to dip our toes into the waters of the Pacific Ocean. And then of course I just had to splash her with the salty water.
I stopped a couple more times to get out and take pictures of the waves breaking on rocks and solitary beaches. Chris was my model, and I took more pictures of my beautiful wife than I did of the beautiful scenery.
When I mentioned to Chris that we would be spending the night in Monterey, she said that name sounded familiar. Then she remembered why. Her great-aunt, now passed, would tell her stories when she was little, about life as a WAC, stationed at Fort Ord. Chris asked if we could take a side trip and see the base. I set the GPS while Chris did a Google search for information on Fort Ord.
We found what was left of the main base, which was not much more than a grassy field. We walked around, trying to find the women’s barracks area where Chris’ great-aunt would have stayed, but everything was gone.
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