Irrefutable Evidence - a romantic story by WTSman George has been set up. College Queen Mandy's pantyhose and panties are in his car. The evidence of his alleged infidelity is irrefutable, at least to Debbie, the shy young pre-law student who loved him and who is now shattered and refuses to speak to him. George has never cheated on Debbie. He adores her – and detests Mandy. But how can he refute the irrefutable? ______________________ You’ll find them everywhere – the Queen Bees who completely dominate their female ‘friends’ (and from a steadily decreasing age, also the males). They monopolize kindergartens, they pester primary schools, they drive middle school teachers to distraction, and once the hormones really hit, they become much more than merely a general nuisance – they become uncontrollable pests. In high school their reigns peak. The boys swarm around them for a chance to be with the Queen. The Queens never drive anywhere themselves. They never buy a soda or a burger or a movie ticket – beau-of-the-week will take care of that in gratitude. They are also the ring leaders in making life miserable for anyone who dares to be different: the geeks, the brains, the misfits, or those who simply will not genuflect to the Queen. The Queen Bees kill. Truly, they do. Vulnerable kids suicide under the onslaught. And only rarely are the tormentors held accountable – how could any (male) DA think badly of such a pretty, flirty girl? Their reigns peak in high school for several reasons. Partly because even Queen Bees grow up, partly because they are often too dumb to manage college, and partly because most people who go to college are not dumb and also mature enough to see through the Queens and ignore them, thus reducing the extent of their influence. But that doesn’t, in any way, mean that Queen Bees are unknown at colleges; far from it. The smaller and more, shall we say, provincial, a college is, the more likely it is that the Queen Bees can continue the domination. Amanda Lee Buchanan – known as Mandy – was a very good example. A junior at a small but respected college; she was the archetypical Queen Bee. She was a naturally honey-blond Golden Girl of just over medium height with sparkling blue eyes, long eyelashes and a dazzling white smile. Her 36Ds on an otherwise slender frame made her look positively voluptuous. She was enrolled to study “General Business” – a designation that covers a multitude of sins and is chiefly indicative of indecision, lack of talent or both. In reality, Amanda was only in college to get her ‘Mrs’ degree and meanwhile having a ball doing what she’d done for 16 of her 20 years: controlling her posse as much as possible and make them do her bidding. ‘Posse’ is actually a poor choice of word. ‘Court’ would cover it much better. And while the number of courtiers was perhaps smaller than in high school where she’d been head-cheerleader and Prom Queen, the members of the college court were more interesting. No more pimpled youths with occasional access to their parents’ cars. The young men swarming around her now were independent smooth-faced sophisticated players. Or so they thought. Mandy didn’t. Sure they had more money and fewer pimples, but otherwise first and second year college was not significantly different from third and fourth year high-school. She used, abused, and eventually dumped those young men one by one. Some Queen Bees are, at least technically, virgins. They intend to give up their hymens only in exchange for a wedding ring. They keep the boys satisfied with their hands, mouths, breasts, or anuses. And the boys are free to hint that they have gone all the way. After all, the rumors will only increase the demand for dates. Others have no such reservations, providing their dates with real sex. That is a high-risk strategy: The separation between ‘Queen Bee’ and ‘School Slut’ is razor thin. But Mandy had managed to walk that tightrope flawlessly since losing her virginity at twelve. She liked sex. In fact, she liked it so much that the number of dates any guy would get depended as much on the size and prowess of his dick as of his wallet or car. To counter the risk of the dreaded ‘slut’ designation, Mandy insinuated that ‘this was something she rarely ever did’ asking the guys to ‘keep it quiet for the sake of her prospects’. While the going was good, the guys complied. And once they were dumped, the few blabber-mouths would be met with derision. “As if” Mandy would declare, rolling her baby-blue eyes. ______________________ Have you noticed that the Queens almost always have a Lady in Waiting? A faithful side-kick who kids herself into believing that she’s the Queen’s best friend, usually never realizing how poorly she is being treated? To qualify for side-kick, a girl has to fulfill some basic requirements. One of the most important of those – second only to the blind devotion – is that she must not be too pretty. Never must the side-kick compete for the males’ attention. Deborah Elaine Henderson, unsurprisingly known as Debbie, was the perfect side-kick to Mandy and had been so since they met in Kindergarten at age 4. Debbie was mousy-haired girl. She wasn’t overly tall, yet seemed somewhat gangly. She was by no means a dog, but certainly not a stunner. She did herself several injustices in the looks department though. She smoothed her hair daily with a straightening iron, depriving the world a view of her gorgeous natural curls. Rather she gathered her hair in a forbidding bun at the back of her head and her dress-sense was dull. Being so skinny, she wasn’t particularly well endowed in the breast department, although she wasn’t flat, and she had a perfectly cute ass. But her clothes hid rather than enhanced what was there front and back. She’d had braces until graduating high-school. She now had teeth as pretty as Mandy’s, but since she hardly ever smiled, she didn’t use that asset either. She, again according to form, was exceedingly bright. Academically, that is. On the personal front she was far from independent. Actually being at the same college as Mandy was indicative of Debbie’s subservience and complete lack of self-esteem. The college was really quite good in many areas, but its pre-law program was, to put it mildly, ‘not worth writing home about’, as the saying goes. Yet Debbie had agreed to go there with Mandy without even considering that she was doing herself a disfavor. Not only did Debbie not compete with Mandy in the looks department, she was also so painfully shy around boys that she didn’t even do what many side-kicks do: Wait on the side to collect the Queen’s leftovers. She was a complete virgin; she had never so much as kissed a boy. Besides Debbie, the court of Queen Mandy consisted of three or four other girls and a varying number of love-struck young men. They usually hung out at The Durant – a bar slash cafe on the far side of town. Despite most of them still being under 21, they never had problems buying alcohol. The state traditionally had a low minimum drinking age, but had been forced to up it to 21 during the Reagan years (or lose 10% of it federal road funding). However the College President was a co-founder of the Amethyst Initiative. And since his brother was the Chief of Police, the cops in the college town never took any particular interest in the age of drinkers. The behavior of drinkers was another matter – there was a zero-tolerance for drunk and disorderly conduct, and any bartender caught serving alcohol to an obviously intoxicated person would also find himself in trouble quickly. So by and large the town was safe. ______________________ Into all this walked George Jacobsen one Friday night early in the New Year. He was tall and blond after his Norse forefathers. His build was sinewy rather than bulky, but at 6”3 he still weighed in at 180 pounds. His short blond hair was almost flaxen and his eyes were even bluer than Mandy’s. Unlike the other third year students, George was a relative new-comer in town. Hailing from a blue-collar background of modest means, he’d done an Associate Degree at a Community College in his home town, but shown such promise that he’d won a scholarship to finish a Bachelor of Computer Science degree at a more prestigious college. Since he’d had to work for two years to raise money for college, George was older than the other third years – and actually one of the few students in the bar that evening old enough to legally buy alcohol. What he bought was one light beer. After that he would switch to soft-drinks. He never intoxicated himself, and if he was driving he wouldn’t drink at all. His aversion to drunk-driving was extremely strong. A bit over two years ago, George had lost his girlfriend when she, along with four other kids, was driven into a tree by her younger brother who was close to 3 times over the legal limit. The small, overfilled car had practically wrapped itself around the tree, and the traumatized emergency crew worked for hours to retrieve mangled body after mangled body. Shannon and Jake were George’s neighbors and he still had flash-backs of the pitiful wail that pierced the quiet summer’s evening when the police had come to tell their widowed mother that both her children had died. Alerted by the sound, George rushed over to learn that the wail also signified the loss of his soul-mate. The girl next door who had been his best friend all his life – and his sweetheart since grade school – was gone. George, irrationally, still felt guilty for Shannon’s death. Had he gone to the party too, Shannon would never have been in Jake’s car. Even Jake and the other kids might have been alive, as George would certainly have tried to stop Jake driving if he knew he was drunk. But George hadn’t gone. Having just started the college education he’d worked so hard to be able to afford, he wanted to concentrate on studying and restricted himself to one party per weekend. Shannon had really wanted him to come – in fact they’d had a bit of a fight over George’s refusal. It only added to George’s devastation that the last words between him and Shannon had been in anger. After this tragedy, George froze inside. For the next two years he worked like a man possessed on his education, in the process winning the scholarship, but never so much as looking at another girl. And the first half year at the new college had been the same. Work, work, work. He took no interest in the affluent college coeds, but he did make a few male friends. ______________________ George was shooting pool with Tony – another mature junior and fellow computer science student. They were roommates, brought together by chance, but had slowly struck up a friendship that deepened with every passing week – to the extent where they had visited each other's homes over the just past Christmas break. Their backgrounds were not dissimilar with supportive, though not wealthy parents. Tony’s folks were small scale farmers so he’d had to work to make it to college just like George. But a small inheritance from a distant uncle had allowed him to take all four years at the good college. Tony had much the same build as George (so much so that they regularly borrowed each other’s clothes – don’t think only girls do that), but their coloring was very different: Tony was of Italian descent and it showed in his dark hair, skin and eyes. Said dark eyes were narrowing to gauge how to pocket a particularly difficult placed ball. At the exact moment he was about to shoot, a honeyed voice called. “Hi Tony, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Tony missed the shot altogether, pocketing both the cue ball and one of George’s balls in the process. He straightened up with a curse. “I don’t think so Amanda,” he said looking angrily at the lovely vision that had appeared in the doorway to the pool room. “As you say, he’s my friend. And friends try to keep friends out of your talons.” He turned to George. “I’m leaving. Lucy was going to come over on the way home from theatre practice; I’ll intercept her on the way and go somewhere else. I don’t want to be with this vulture.” He stomped out of the room, almost pushing the young lady aside. A bemused and slightly confused George was gaping at the scene which had shown him a hitherto unknown side of Tony. The Golden Girl was nonplussed. “I’m Mandy,” she intoned. George could almost feel the breeze from her eye-lashes. “I’m George,” George replied with a nod that was just exactly polite, but no more. “Tony’s my roommate,” he added, meaning to convey a warning that he intended to be loyal to his friend. “Lucky Tony,” Mandy tittered. “Although I think I would get much more out of sharing a room with you.” Then she added cattily “At least I hope so. I have my doubts regarding Tony…” George didn’t take the bait. He busied himself setting up the balls for a new game. “Your break I think,” he said to Nick – another of his fellow students and a friend of Tony’s. It was Nick’s idea that they should shoot 8-ball at this particular place, but he had graciously let George and Tony have the first, now abandoned, game. Amanda, unused to being ignored by men, was just going to make another attempt to get George’s attention when a rowdy lot of young people entered the bar. It was her ‘court’ arriving. They spotted her and came over towards her calling out exaggerated greetings. ______________________ “Hi Guys.” Amanda said. “I’m just surveying the scene.” “Anything of interest?” Beatrice – one of the minor Ladies in Waiting asked, studying George with interest. “Not for you Bea,” Amanda replied. “The new cutie’s mine.” George looked up from the pool table. His facial expression was inscrutable. Amanda read it as a sign on interest and upped the ante. “Well George, are you going to buy me a drink?” “I don’t think so,” George replied with deliberation. “I don’t think so.” Amanda was taken aback but recovered quickly to protect her image. She turned around with a shrug and addressed Debbie. “It seems the New Boy is shy. Will you get me a drink Debs?” “Yes Mandy,” the grey girl said resignedly and went to the bar. The episode bothered George so he drained his light beer, went up to the bar too to get a soft drink, queued up behind the mousy girl and asked her point blank “How come Miss Domineering Personality of the Year can’t buy her own drinks?” Startled, Debbie couldn’t meet George’s gaze and looked down. “We’re friends,” she mumbled. “Are you really?” George asked. “I mean, how often does Mandy buy your drinks?” ‘Exactly never,’ Debbie thought – but she didn’t say anything. The silence was oppressing. “Thought so,” George sighed – as if Debbie’s thoughts had been spoken. Once more Debbie said nothing. “Well, I hope you’re happy,” George said. It was Debbie’s turn next to be served so she was spared having to reply. But she did think about it. Not that there was all that much to think about, really, but it dominated Debbie’s thoughts nevertheless. The answer to George’s question was an unequivocal ‘No!’ Debbie was not happy with her personal life at all. Nor had she been for quite some time. Coming to college with Mandy was a bad mistake – the worst in a seemingly endless series of mistakes. She’d had a unique chance to break the dependence of Mandy by going to another college – and she could even have gotten into a better pre-law program that way. But she was scared of being on her own and so she’d chosen the ‘safe’ option and stayed with Mandy. At least she had something of a social life, no matter how limited, she thought. But in a way she was worse off than an old fashioned paid companion; in fact it was Debbie that was paying Mandy – drinks were not the only items Debbie would provide on a regular basis. And she couldn’t see how her situation would change. Unlike Beatrice and Cindy who were more than happy to have a go with those men Mandy discarded or rejected, Debbie was never going to find anyone for herself. In general she disliked Mandy’s boyfriends – past, present and future. Tony was an exception, but he had been scooped up by Lucy when Mandy tired of him and he had never looked Debbie’s way. In fact, the likelihood that any of those boys would ever even notice Debbie was remote. So she was at a dead end. Perhaps it was time to cut loose? She was morosely mulling about those things over her Diet Coke. As usual, Mandy ignored her and was unaware of her ‘best’ friend’s gloomy mood. Mandy had kept up the banter with George a bit – mainly to goad Sean, the beau of the moment. George finished his drink around the time he and Nick finished a game. “That’s two all,” he said. “I think I’ll call it quits and head home. I’ve got a lot of studying to do this weekend.” “’Kay,” said Nick as George left the pool table for a quick stop at the rest room before heading home. ______________________ “Time for another,” Mandy said – holding her empty glass up to Debbie. “No thank you,” Debbie replied – choosing to interpret Mandy’s words as an offer, rather than the demand it so obviously was. “I think I’ll head home; I’m not feeling too well.” Mandy was peeved by Debbie’s reply – the unspoken insult regarding the drink and especially the unheard streak of independence. “You’re not much fun,” she said. “I expect more from the people I hang out with.” “I know,” Debbie replied. “That’s why I’m going home.” Mandy pointedly turned her back to Debbie and didn’t observe that George and Debbie nearly collided when he exited the men’s rest-room in the entranceway. “Sorry,” George said. “Didn’t mean to bump into you that way. Heading home?” “Yes,” Debbie said quietly. And repeating the excuse she’d used to Mandy, she added “I’m not feeling too well.” “Sorry to hear that!” George said – his voice sounding genuinely nice and concerned. “Let me walk you home then.” Debbie was startled “I, eh I,” she faltered. “I don’t want to put you out...” "'Put me out'?" George laughed. "That sounds very old-fashioned and genteel! You'd do no such thing; your dorm is right next to mine – it’s no trouble at all.” “You know where I live?” Debbie asked even more startled. “Sure, I’ve seen you around, “George said. “You’re doing pre-law with Lucy, aren’t you?” “Yes," Debbie confirmed barely over a whisper. She was almost paralyzed with shyness. She wished she could make some bright remark, but nothing came. George didn't seem to expect her to and continued "Tony’s my roommate and best friend and I hang out a lot with him and Lucy. I've seen you often enough when we go to pick her up." Debbie was stunned. 'He has noticed me?!' she thought in confusion. "You have?" she croaked. "Why sure," George said. His natural politeness made him turn to face Debbie with a smile. The girl still didn’t look up, but George was unconcerned. He sensed her shyness, and since he wasn’t on the prowl – or in fact really interested in her as a girl at all, he just kept up a pleasant and polite, if somewhat one-sided, conversation about college matters. It was a fairly long walk and the conversation became progressively less one-sided as Debbie’s utterances changed from monosyllabic whispers to almost animated contributions. But the few times George turned to look at her, she still didn’t look him in the eye. It was also a fairly cold walk. Walking the narrow streets of the town wasn’t too bad but once they reached the open areas of the parkland surrounding the campus, the icy winds hit them at full force. Debbie was shivering. “You’re not really dressed for this, are you?” George said, eyeing her much too thin jacket. “No,” Debbie agreed with clattering teeth. “I got a lift over with Bea – I wasn’t planning on walking.” “We can’t have you catching pneumonia, can we?” George said, took off his great coat, and wrapped it around her. “But then you’ll get cold,” she started to protest – while at the same time trying to process that a boy, well a man, really, and a handsome one at that, was being positively chivalrous to her. George putting the huge coat around her felt not only warm, it felt like a caress. She wriggled to get her arms though the sleeves. “I’ll be right,” George said cheerfully while buttoning the coat – and indeed he would. He would cool off in the icy wind, sure, but he didn’t feel the cold; he never did. Besides he had an oversized sweatshirt on as well. “But we’d better get a move on,” he added, grabbing Debbie’s small cold hand when it – just – appeared out of the sleeve. They crossed the parkland at a brisk pace and got to the dorms. George’s was first, but he carried on towards Debbie’s a bit further up. They entered the lobby and stood facing each other. “Better get up to bed quick kiddo if you’re coming down with something,” George said – and unthinkingly started to unbutton the coat again. Debbie was mesmerized – a man was undressing her! And in public!! Well, OK, he was just retrieving his coat, and the lobby was deserted, but still. “Gosh, that hand is frozen too, isn’t it,” George said when his left hand grazed Debbie’s right while putting his coat back on. “Keep your fingers stiff,” he ordered. Debbie did and George proceeded to rub warmth back into it with both his. Her hand got warm quickly. All of her got warm, actually. Her face and her neck. And in particular the pit of her stomach. She finally looked up into his friendly blue eyes. ______________________ Until that very moment, George’s actions had been all natural friendly politeness. Letting a girl, especially someone unwell, walk home alone was incompatible with his upbringing; letting a girl freeze when he was warm likewise. Thrown into the mix was his intense dislike for people like Mandy whom he knew all-too-well from his school days. He and Shannon had suffered much from the ‘in-crowd’ throughout middle and high school. Never had they let the Queen Bees get to them, but many of their friends were badly burned by their antics. And given the grief in his heart over the loss of Shannon, there were no ulterior motives behind George’s chivalry. But all that changed when he looked into Debbie’s dark brown eyes. The two girls – Shannon and Debbie – were otherwise not alike at all. But the eyes George now gazed into were identical to what Shannon’s had been. George was lost. How long they were standing there, looking into each others eyes, neither of them knew afterwards. Debbie who had never experienced anything in terms of romance was vaguely aware that something had happened to George, but she had no idea what. Nor did she understand what was happening to her. Her breath was coming in short shallow gasps and she felt heat and moisture from a place she’d never felt before. George was in a different world altogether, incapable of processing his emotions – and unable to let go of Debbie small hand, still firmly clasped between his two large paws. The arrival of other people finally broke the spell. It was Tony walking Lucy home. “George!”, “Debbie!” came the surprised outburst when they recognized them. “What are you doing here?” George turned around, finally letting go of Debbie’s hand. “Debbie was feeling unwell so I walked her back. I’m glad you’re here Lucy – will you make sure Debbie gets to bed?” “Sure,” Lucy said. She gave Tony a quick kiss. “See you tomorrow sweetheart.” Then she turned to Debbie, put an arm around her, and said “Let’s get you upstairs.” George and Tony walked home in silent companionship. Once they got to their room, George sat down in a comfy chair while Tony flopped out on his bed. “OK,” Tony said. “What happened between you and young Debbie?” “I actually think you need to start by telling me what happened between you and the Queen Bitch,” George replied, “– and I’ll take up the story from there.” With an economy of words that spoke loudly this was a subject Tony would rather forget, he told George how he’d fallen under Mandy’s spell in second year. He was a late bloomer and his parents strict Catholics, so Mandy’d been his first – something he now bitterly regretted .Of course being inexperienced he hadn’t lived up to Mandy’s expectations and he had been dumped quickly and mercilessly with some pretty humiliating comments about his lack of sexual prowess. “Jeez, man,” George exclaimed. “No wonder you detest the bitch.” “Yeah, I was in a complete funk most of last spring,” Tony admitted. “But then Lucy came along.” Tony’s whole demeanor changed. He couldn’t talk about Lucy without going all soft. George smiled at his friend. “She’s the one, isn’t she?” “Yes,” Tony with emphasis. “So what’cha ya gonna do about it?” George asked with a grin. “Easy,” Tony replied. “Valentine’s Day is in just over four weeks. I’m gonna buy her a ring.” “Good for you,” George exclaimed. “Both of you! Lucy will love that.” “You won’t tell her, will you?” Tony asked – suddenly all worried. “I want it to be a surprise.” “I doubt she will be all that surprised, but I shan’t tell her,” George assured his friend – and then added in a teasing tone “On one condition, that is…” “What’s that?” Tony asked, once more looking concerned. “That I get to be your Best Man,” George grinned. “Of course!” Tony gushed. “I wouldn’t want anyone else.” They were silent again, soaking up the happy mood. “Hey, wait a minute,” Tony suddenly said. “You never told me about you and Debbie.” ______________________ “I don’t think there is all that much to tell,” George said after a few moments’ thought. “Yet.” The little additional word surprised George as much as it surprised his friend. But he had to admit to himself that for the first time in two and a half years he was having feelings he thought had died completely. Although not certain at all what was going on, he was thinking about Debbie in ways that reminded him of what he had felt for Shannon. Tony, who knew about his friend’s past, was quietly elated. He decided to take a chance. “You know, from what you’ve told me about Shannon, she wouldn’t have wanted you to remain alone for the rest of your life, would she?” To Tony’s immense relief, George looked startled – not pained or offended. “I suppose not – we never talked about that,” he faltered. “Of course you didn’t,” Tony agreed. “You expected to have a long life ahead of you. As by rights you should have. But for arguments sake, just supposing that the accident had never happened, but that you had caught some deadly disease – say leukemia, or something that kills even young people. What would you have told Shannon? To stay celibate and in mourning for the rest of her life?” “Of course not!” George exclaimed without hesitation. “I loved her. I would have wanted her to find happiness again!” Tony didn’t drive the point home. He merely lifted his eyebrows in a querying look. “I suppose so,” George said by way of answer to the unasked question. “I’ve just not felt anything for anyone since that night.” “Until now,” Tony added gently. “Until now,” George agreed. “Debbie is a sweet, intelligent kid,” Tony said. “If completely under the thumb of that bitch. I was quite fond of her myself, but she never opened up – she was much too shy, and besides once Lucy appeared on the scene, my interests were elsewhere.” George nodded with a smile. “What I’m trying to say,” Tony continued, “is that you would be so good for each other. Go for it and see what happens.” “I will,” George agreed. “To be frank, I don’t think I can help myself. I’ve never fallen in love before – with Shannon it was different; we we’re in love long before we knew what it meant. From long before we started school if our mothers are to be believed. But Debbie? Jeez. This ‘love at first sight’ thing does happen, doesn’t it?” “Yes,” Tony replied. “It does.” ______________________ Kim was fairly unimpressed when there was a hesitant knock on the door just after 9 on the Saturday morning. She was a light sleeper, so she was awake immediately. Debbie, poor thing, was still out of it. She had been all strange when Lucy brought her to their room last night. Supposedly she was unwell – but there was something else about Debbie that Kim couldn’t quite figure out. Lucy had stayed to put Debbie to bed – like Kim couldn’t handle that! And Lucy whispered something to Debbie just before she left that made Debbie blush. Kim didn’t care much for Lucy. Well, actually, she did. That was the problem. ‘Another bloody breeder,’ she thought, ‘and totally wrapped up in that Tony fellow.’ At least Debbie always hung out with Mandy and never mentioned men. There was hope for her still. “Who are you?” she demanded when she opened the door to see a tall blond man who looked vaguely familiar. He was standing in a restful pose with both hands behind his back. “Come on, you know me Kimberly,” George replied good-naturedly, recognizing the girl at once. “We were in a couple of the same comp sci classes last semester.” “So we were,” Kim acknowledged. “You’re George, aren’t you?” “Yes, that’s right,” George replied in that quiet polite voice he always used. ‘Quite a decent fellow really. For a man that is,’ Kim thought. ‘And never aggressive.’ But she was having a bad feeling about this visit “What do you want?” she demanded. “I just wanted to know how Debbie is this morning,” George replied unfazed. “She was unwell last night and had a dust-up with Mandy, so I walked her home…” “She’s still sleeping,” Kim cut him off, looking daggers at him, “and…” This time it was George’s turn to cut off the conversation. “Good, that’s what she needs. Do let her sleep. But would you please give her these?” He swung around his left hand from behind his back, revealing a bunch of very pretty flowers with a card in an envelope attached. Kim scowled at him, but she couldn’t fault him. “Sure,” she said, grabbed the flowers, and closed the door in George’s face. “I guess those flowers weren’t for Kim,” a sweet humorous voice whispered in George’s ear. George swung around startled. “You’re not wrong there Lucy,” he agreed with a reluctant smile. “I doubt they would have any effect anyway.” “Nope, you would need some rather extensive and invasive surgery before Kim would accept flowers from you,” Lucy laughed. “Not happening,” George smiled – and then all serious again added “But I don’t get it. Why she is so aggressive? Live and let live has always been my motto. Her sexual orientation is her business – I have no problem with it.” “Yeah, you wouldn’t,” Lucy agreed. “But I think she has some baggage. She grew up out in the sticks where homosexuality isn’t so easily accepted. And I believe some boys there were determined to prove that she could be ‘converted’ as it were. I mean, she is quite curvy and good looking.” “Jeez, you mean she was raped?” George asked, totally appalled. “No, I don’t think it actually ever came to that,” Lucy replied. “But I believe she only barely escaped a charge of causing grievous bodily harm when she attempted to turn the local sheriff’s son into a daughter, so to speak, when he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” “Oh,” George said. “Well, serves the bastard right.” “Indeed,” Lucy agreed. “But anyway, if those flowers are not for Kim then it must mean that you are serious about Debbie.” George didn’t say anything; he just smiled. “Oh goodie,” Lucy grinned. “That’s what I told Debbie last night. She wouldn’t believe me.” “Were we that obvious?” George asked. “George sweetheart, you never look at any girl in a romantic way and the poor little thing was blushing all down her neck and actually panting!” Lucy laughed. “She’s got it bad. And from the looks of you, so do you! My friends always tell me that Tony goes all soft when I’m mentioned and you seem to do the same about Debbie.” “I can’t help it,” George said, indeed looking all soft and cuddly. “DON’T!” Lucy exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you both.” Before George could say anything, she added with a wicked grin “But you do realize half the girls on campus will go into mourning when they realize that George Jacobsen has finally come out of the permafrost and it wasn’t for them.” “You’re exaggerating,” George laughed – though certainly not displeased. “No, I’m not,” Lucy said. “And be careful. Mandy will be furious. It is a deadly sin for any member of her posse to scoop up some guy she is interested in.” “That 4B can go to hell,” George spat with uncharacteristic venom. "4B?" Lucy asked in confusion. “Big Boobed Blond Bitch,” George said, spitting out each word. “That’s what Shannon called them. Believe me, I know her kind.” He turned and left. ______________________ When Debbie finally woke up just before noon she was all better. She hadn’t been physically ill in fact; just emotionally upset – which can be just as exhausting. In the twilight zone between being asleep and fully awake, she was reliving last night, including what Lucy had whispered to her. She didn’t quite believe her, although she wanted to. And then she rolled over and saw the flowers. Kim was long gone – she played soccer every Saturday morning, but she had put the flowers in a vase on Debbie’s bed-side table. With trembling hands Debbie retrieved the card from the envelope. It was a tasteful “Get Well” card. And in a neat very legible hand was a greeting. ’Dear Debbie. I hope you get better soon. I would so like to see you again. Please call me. Love George.’ There were three X’s after George name and a cell-phone number. Debbie nearly swooned. And for the first time in her life she acted resolutely and called George “Thank you for the beautiful flowers,” she gushed as soon as George had answered with a tentative whispered ‘Hello?’ George hastily made his way out the library where he had been studying. “Debbie,” he exclaimed as soon as the double doors closed noiselessly behind him. “I was just in the library; sorry about that. How are you?” “I’m pretty good,” Debbie replied. An understatement; she felt on top of the world. “All better?” George asked happily. “Just about, if starving,” Debbie said. “I only just woke up and breakfast is long over. But what a way to wake up – to the intense scent of vanilla. How did you know those are my favorite flowers?” “I didn’t,” George replied honestly. “But I’m glad you liked them, and with regards to begin hungry, Café Jefferson serves brunch until 2 PM on Saturdays. That will do breakfast for you and lunch for me. I’ll pick you up in, say twenty minutes. My treat.” Before Debbie could say anything, George hung up. With a squeal of panic, Debbie leapt out of bed and rushed to the shower. Her hair felt greasy and really needed a wash. She dried herself and while blow-drying her hair she panicked further about what to wear. Usually she did laundry on Thursday evening, but she had been too busy this week and feared she didn’t have anything ‘nice’ to wear. She was still in panties, stockings and a bra when she eyed George out of the window, walking up to the path towards her dorm. “Shit!” she muttered. “He’s early!” Her hair was curling more than ever – the combination of the cold weather and the blow drying made it almost explode in curls. Nothing to do about that now – the straightening process took ages. But she was also nearly naked. In desperation she grabbed the first clean garment she could find in her wardrobe – a rather formal three quarter length dress. She had only just gotten it on and zipped up when there was a knock on the door. ‘God, I’ve blown it,’ she thought. ‘Just look at me!’ Despondently she slipped her stockinged feet into a pair of pumps and opened the door. George was utterly unprepared for the vision that met him. Honestly, the cartoon cliché of the dropping jaw and popping out eyeballs fitted perfectly. “My God you’re beautiful!” he stammered. “What have you done to your hair?” “Nothing,” Debbie replied in confusion. “Oh the curls you mean? It does that when I wash it – it takes forever to straighten out.” “Oh God, don’t straighten it!” George exclaimed. “It’s perfect like this.” Debbie was completely unprepared for that reaction – straightening her hair had been Mandy’s idea and she had slaved over it for nearly ten years. She turned around to let George in. Whatever control George had regained over himself was lost when he saw Debbie from behind in that figure hugging dress. He sported an instant painful boner and groaned. He swallowed hard. “Debbie,” he croaked. “Why do you hide yourself in baggy clothes?” Debbie turned around again, eyeing the almost drooling young man in confusion. Then she saw the prominent tent in his jeans. As comprehension dawned, a deep flush spread from her face down neck. “You like?” she whispered, turning around once more in a twirl. “God yes, you’re a goddess!” George exclaimed. “But I’m so flat!” Debbie protested, indicating her bust. “You’re nothing of the kind,” George countered. “You’re perfect. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. And don’t hide that perfect figure – at least not when I’m around to protect you from the wolves,” he added. ‘The other wolves,’ he thought – more than a little ashamed of himself. “I will have to put a coat on, you know”, Debbie laughed. “It’s too cold outside otherwise.” “Oh sure!” George said, “But, please, take it off again at the café and make me the proudest, most envied man on campus!” “Flatterer!” Debbie laughed – a sweet, pearly sound. For the first time in her life she felt sure of herself. Words could be deceptive, but George’s physical and emotional reaction was genuine – she was certain of that. That massive erection was irrefutable evidence that he found her attractive. ______________________ Debbie hung on George’s arm during the short walk to the café. When they arrived there, he demonstratively helped her out of her coat, escorted her to a vacant table, held the chair for her, and offered her every possible delicate attention, speaking her name with reverence. “Hi George,” a saccharine voice breathed. “Oh and hello, Debbie is it?” was added with marked less enthusiasm. “What can I get you?” “Full brunch for both of us, Henrietta,” George replied. “OJ and tea?” he eyed Debbie with a querying look and received a nod. “Yes, tea for two.” “Sure George,” the waitress said. “Coming right up.” “Who is Henrietta?” Debbie asked when the she had left. “A fellow student of mine,” George replied – and with the insight provided by Lucy that morning thought to himself ‘and evidently one of that half of the girls on campus who supposedly will react badly to Debbie.’ Henrietta behaved, but their food was brought out by Cindy – and she was looking daggers at Debbie, slamming down the tray in front of them. The open hostility continued when Debbie a little while later excused herself to the restroom. She was waylaid by Cindy. “What the hell are you on about?” she hissed. “Mandy will have a fit when she hears about this!” “What do you mean?” Debbie asked with a frankness she didn’t feel. “Can’t I have brunch with a friend?” “Don’t be cute. You heard Mandy last night. She wants George,” Cindy said. “And you heard George’s reply to that,” Debbie shot back. “George wouldn’t touch Mandy with a barge-pole. Hardly surprising, given how she treated his best friend.” “You know the rules,” Cindy snarled. “If you mess with Mandy’s boyfriends you’re out!” “He’s not Mandy’s boyfriend,” Debbie replied quietly. “And as to being out, I should have left Mandy’s ‘court’ a long time ago. She’s not healthy to be around.” She turned her back to Cindy and returned to George at their table. “What was that about?” George asked. He had seen but not heard the exchange. “Mandy’s friend Cindy is not impressed with me being here with you,” Debbie replied neutrally. “Cindy – is that the acne-struck slut who threw our food onto the table, spilling my orange juice?” George asked loud enough for Henrietta to hear. “Yup, that’s the one,” Debbie agreed. “She is of the impression that Mandy holds the rights to be with you.” “That is so never going to happen,” George said with an unpleasant laugh. “I have no interest in the village bike.” “The village bike?” Debbie asked. “Yeah, you know. Everyone gets a ride for free,” George replied. “Belongs to no-one – and not one you would want to keep anyway.” Debbie’s laugh had a strange echo; Henrietta had heard the outburst. “Actually,” George added in a confidential tone of voice, but still at the same volume. “Tony refused to, you know, take up with Lucy until he’d had the all-clear from the student clinic.” Again there was an echo to Debbie’s gasp when the implication dawned on her. And on Henrietta. “But don’t let anyone know I said so. It is an experience Tony would rather forget,” George added. Debbie readily promised that. Henrietta, probably the biggest gossip in junior year, didn’t. They talked for hours. It was like there never had been a barrier between them – it was like Debbie had never been shy and George never withdrawn from the pain of losing Shannon. They saw no more of Cindy; the kitchen closed at two and the hot drinks they consumed were made by Henrietta at the bar. During a quiet period in the afternoon Henrietta came over and talked to them. She, reluctantly, had to admit to herself that the two of them looked great together and her curiosity got the better of her. “How long have you two been together?” she asked. “Since last night,” George replied without hesitation. A stunned Debbie stared at him, but then nodded. “Yes, it happened all of a sudden last night,” she agreed. “Good for you,” Henrietta said. “If only I’d known George was available,” she added wistfully. “I wasn’t Hen,” George replied. “At least I didn’t know I was until I drowned in Debbie’s eyes.” ______________________ And that was that. When they left the café that afternoon they were a couple. Their romance was a slow one, albeit intense. Debbie had to decline a movie date for that evening – she simply had to study. So they ate and studied together in George and Tony’s room. When Tony and Lucy came back from the movies, the four of them had a cup of tea together. The kiss George and Debbie shared as the girls left to go home was their first – in front of other people and pretty tame to look at, but hugely significant to both of them. “So, you’re all on?” Tony asked when they’d seen the girls off at the door. “Yes,” George replied. “So it would seem. Lightning strike, and all that.” “Good for you,” Tony laughed. “And what have you been up to this evening?” he asked with a fake leer that he couldn’t really pull off. “Just talking and studying,” George replied. Tony raised a tentative eyebrow, so George persisted. “No, honestly. We haven’t even made out. The kiss you just saw was our first.” “Gosh, you are taking it slowly, aren’t you?” Tony asked in awe. “That’s what seems natural,” George replied. “I don’t think she is very experienced, and in a way, neither am I. There is no hurry.” “Of course not,” Tony agreed. “Besides, you both have some issues to overcome, don’t you?” “And how,” George sad with a wry smile and then went on to tell about the experience with Cindy at the café. “I hope you don’t mind I brought you into it,” he concluded. “Not at all!” Tony said with a saucy laugh. “Knowing Hen, it will be all over campus by now. The village bike – that’s a good one. I wonder how Mandy will live that down!” He laughed again, tears of mirth streaming down his face. “Oh glorious sweet revenge.” Their conversation was paralleled by one between Debbie and Lucy, the latter also being in awe when learning she had witnessed George and Debbie’s very first kiss. “That’s special sweetheart,” she said. “And he seems special – and quite a good laugh when he opens up.” “Yes he is,” Debbie agreed and told Lucy about the ‘village bike’ episode. Lucy’s mirth was no less than Tony’s – and she confirmed the aftermath of Tony’s disastrous ‘relationship’ with Mandy. “It’s true, you know. The big lug refused to so much as touch me before he got the all-clear from the student clinic,” she laughed. “You don’t mind that he has, you know, been with someone else before?” Debbie asked timidly. “Nope,” Lucy replied. “I mean, so have I if it comes to that. My first time wasn’t good either – it hurt like hell and I was miles from coming, but at least I didn’t have to fear picking up anything nasty. The boy was every bit as much a virgin as I was despite his claims to the contrary. The next one was much better. He was also a virgin, but a quick learner. That only ended because we went off to separate colleges.” “Do you still miss him?” Debbie asked. “I did for a while – I stayed faithful to him and tried to make our long-distance relationship work,” Lucy said. “But it was just so hard – and then he fell for someone else and sent me a ‘Dear Jane’ letter. At least he didn’t cheat on me; he never got physical with the new girlfriend until he’d told me it was over between us.” “And you believed him?” Debbie asked – sounding slightly skeptical. “God yes,” Lucy laughed. “Joss couldn’t tell a lie if his life depended on it. I meet him and Elise every so often when I’m home, and it’s all above board.“ “You have met his new girlfriend?” Debbie asked, almost shocked. “Yeah, she is one of our old friends from high school,” Lucy replied. “She went to the same college as Joss and just waited for her time, clever girl. It was a little bit awkward at first, at least until I met Tony, but now we get on fine. They have met Tony too.” Debbie did some thinking. Lucy eyed her. “What about you?” she asked. “Any skeletons in your cupboard that may spring out on George?” “No,” Debbie said simply. “I'm a virgin and I intend to stay that way until my wedding night. Do you think that will be a problem?” “Frankly no,” Lucy replied. “It’s unusual these days, but George will want you any way you are. Don’t worry about that. Just don’t make it a dogma either – a principle for the sake of the principle, I mean. If you find that the time is right for both of you then it is, wedding or no wedding.” Debbie was grateful for her chance to talk to Lucy. She’d never been able to talk about sex with anyone she trusted. ‘Such things’ were never mentioned in the Henderson household and Debbie had hardly been a role model worth following. And Kim…? Well, you know. Tolerant Debbie may be, but she didn’t understand Kim’s preferences. ______________________ And Lucy had been spot on. When sex was mentioned – during their first really heavy petting session some weeks later, George responded just like Lucy had predicted. "That's OK. It's more than OK actually, it's admirable," he said. "And I am perfectly happy to wait" "I thought all boys wanted a test-drive," Debbie said. “That’s what Mandy always claims anyway.” "Nope, that's rubbish. Anyone comparing a girl to a car only deserves to be slapped," George protested. "I'm sure sex is important, but if you're truly in love and have decided you have so much in common that you want to spend your life together then you can work out the sex too. Having to find out if you are 'compatible' in advance is nonsense. Learning the technique and finding out what the spouse likes is FUN." “Are you a virgin?” Debbie asked, still not convinced. “No,” George said quietly. “I’m not. Far from it.” Debbie didn’t say anything, but the question hung in the air. “Well,” George said. “Shannon and I, well, we kind of started very early. I mean, before she’d had her periods or anything. No-one knew. It was only when her mother gave us ‘the talk’ around the time of Shannon’s first period and told us about sex that we blurted out that we’d been doing that for quite some time.” “What happened then?” Debbie asked in shock. “Nothing really. It’s a miracle Shannon didn’t get pregnant – I suppose we were just lucky that she didn’t. Possibly I wasn’t fertile yet, I don’t know,” George mused. “But Shannon was instantly put on the pill. And we were told to keep quiet about it. Obviously it was illegal, but since we had the same birthday they wouldn’t have been able to legally determine who was the ‘victim’ and who was the ‘aggressor’. And no-one ever knew besides our parents.” “But having been sexually active for so long, are you sure you can wait for me?” Debbie persisted, determined to get a clear understanding on that point. “Absolutely,” George replied with conviction. “Listen, what I had with Shannon was unusual. But Shannon is dead. For over two years I haven’t so much as kissed a girl. I really didn’t think I would ever feel that way about anyone again. And then you show up. You make me feel wonderful. You make me feel alive again. What we have is every bit as special, and I want it to last. If you want to be a virgin on your wedding night then you will be a virgin on your wedding night. I want that wedding night to be with me!” Debbie seemed happy about the answer. “But how do we handle this?” she asked. “I mean, just before I was sure you were ready to jump my bones.” “I sure was,” George grinned. “We’ll just make some ground rules. I mean, if at least one of us always have underwear on then I don’t think anything much can happen – apart from the occasional wet spot on a pair of trousers." They laughed, resumed petting – and ended up with very wet, very sticky underwear both of them. That conversation was indicative of the kind of rapport and trust they had established between each other. They could talk about anything. George for instance wasn’t very religious whereas Debbie was. So when she told George she sang in the church choir he showed up in a suit in time for church on the very first Sunday and escorted her to the Episcopalian Church in town, sitting through the service to hear her sing and joining her for coffee afterwards. And that pattern repeated itself Sunday after Sunday. And every Thursday evening without fail he would walk her to choir practice, then spend an hour and a half shooting pool with Tony and Nick and then return to walk her home. Debbie felt safe and happy and loved. ______________________ In fact they spent as much time together as possible, meeting for lunch most days, studying together when they could and going out as a couple. They were there with Nick and his girlfriend and two other couples on Valentine’s Day when Tony popped the question to Lucy who squealed ‘Yes!’ in delight. The girls huddled around Lucy admiring the ring, all of them broadly hinting to their respective partners that at least Tony wasn’t completely clueless. For the Easter break they decided it was time to meet the parents. Both George and Debbie hailed from places that were within driving distance from college and from each other, if only just, so setting out early Saturday morning they drove up to spend the first couple of days with George’s family, before heading over to Debbie’s family for the holy days. George’s parents welcomed Debbie with open arms. Being unreligious and liberal minded, George’s mother asked Debbie after supper if she wanted to sleep in George’s room with him. “No Mrs. Jacobsen,” Debbie replied with the straight forward honesty that had endeared her to the older woman in just moments after their arrival, “George and I aren’t sleeping together. We’re waiting with that until after we’re married.” “That’s perfectly OK sweetheart. I’ll just make up a bed for you in George’s sister’s old room across the corridor,” Mrs. Jacobsen said. “But you will have to share a bathroom.” “That’s fine,” Debbie said with a smile. “It’s not like we haven’t seen each other in various states of undress. We’re just never naked at the same time. But your son is quite a sight to behold,” she added, the smile turning coy. “I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Jacobsen grinned back. “He’s the spitting image of his dad. And I tell you I was the most hated, most envied girl in town when I bagged Jeff.” “I know the feeling,” Debbie replied happily. “Anyway, looking at Mr. Jacobsen I have a pretty good idea what I’ll have in thirty years from now. I’m one lucky girl!” Both women giggled. Together they made up the bed in the other bedroom, feeling inordinately close already despite having known each other for only a few hours. The next morning after breakfast, George was looking out the window towards the neighboring house. His eyes seemed distant. “You know, Karen doesn’t live there anymore,” his mother said gently. “Oh,” George replied – getting back to the present with a visible effort. “When did she move?” “Three or four months ago – she’s remarried, you know,” Mrs. Jacobsen said. “She found a widower with two teenaged children. They live over on the other side of town.” She let that sink in, and then added “I really think she would be happy to see you.” “Is Karen Shannon’s mother?” Debbie asked, comprehension dawning. “Yes,” Mrs. Jacobsen said – relived but unsurprised that Debbie knew about Shannon. “George, I really think we should visit her,” Debbie said without hesitation. George looked at his mother, then at his girlfriend, and then back at his mother. “Yes,” he said with a sigh, “I think that would be a good idea. Do you think I should call her first?” “No, just go,” his mother replied. “Head over now and you might just get invited in for morning coffee.” Debbie nodded in agreement. “You wanna come?” he asked Debbie, not sure if she would really want to, even though she had said ‘we’. “Absolutely,” Debbie replied. “I’ll just powder my nose and grab my purse while Mom tells you where it is.” “George, she is perfect,” Mrs. Jacobsen gushed when Debbie had disappeared upstairs. “Whatever happens, don’t ever let her get away.” “I won’t Mom,” George replied. “Ever.” ______________________ The door was opened by a woman quite a bit younger than Mrs. Jacobsen as far as Debbie could tell. She looked briefly disoriented, then sobbed “George” and wrapped said young man in a tight hug. They stood very close for a long time, but George eventually gently extracted himself and said “Karen, here’s someone I want you to meet.” The woman’s gaze fell on Debbie. When their eyes met the woman’s briefly widened, then she turned to George again “The eyes!” “Yes,” George smiled. “Uncanny, isn’t it? Anyway – Karen, meet Debbie.” “I’m so glad to meet you,” the woman said with conviction. “Come on it. I have people I want you to meet too.” “Tiffany, Jessica, please come down. We have visitors!” she yelled up the stairs. The call was met by two times ‘Yes Mom.’ Then George and Debbie were let into the living room where a man somewhat older than Karen, judging by his salt-and-pepper beard, was sitting on a couch reading a newspaper. “John, we have visitors.” The man looked up. “George!” he exclaimed. “You know me sir?” George asked startled. “Sure do boy,” the man replied pointing to a row of photographs on the shelf above a fireplace. “Sure do. Or at least, I know of you. And who is the pretty young lady here with you?” “This is Debbie,” George said. “Nice to meet you Debbie,” the man said. “It seems we fulfill similar roles.” “Yes, so it seems” Debbie replied after a brief hesitation. “Can’t let pure gold sit there wasting away, can we?” “No, that would be a shame” the man agreed. Two pretty girls entered the room. “Mom, who’s here?” the elder – a girl of around sixteen asked. “I think you can work that out yourself Tiff,” Karen replied. “Dad certainly could.” George turned around to face the girls. The younger one, a gangly girl of thirteen or so, got it first “You must be George!” she exclaimed. “Mom talks so much about you.” “Yes I do, don’t I?” Karen agreed. “But you’re right Jess; this is George – and his girl Debbie.” “Have a seat,” John said. “I’ve just made coffee. Can I get you a cup?” “Yes please,” George and Debbie said in unison. The two girls snuggled up to Karen in the couch. All three of them looked so content and happy. Much to her own surprise, Debbie heard herself observing “I noticed Tiffany and Jessica call you ‘Mom’?” She really wanted to know, but it was a question the old, insecure Debbie would never have asked. “It’s because she is our Mom now,” Jessica replied. “We’ve had much more love and nurturing from Karen in the eight months since Dad met her than we had for the last twelve years,” Tiffany added. “Oh honey,” Karen sniffled. “But it’s true,” Tiffany said. “The cow that gave birth to us was only interesting in drinking herself to death. A pity it took so long – or that Dad didn’t kick her cheating ass out long ago.” “Marriage is for life, you know,” her father said. “And I did try to get her to stop drinking.” “I know you did Dad,” Tiffany said. “Anyway, that was then and now is now. Debbie asked why we call Mom ‘mom’. The simple answer is that’s because she is our mom now.” They talked for a long time. The family got an abridged version on how George and Debbie met and only reluctantly let them go around noon because they were pleading they had promised to be home for lunch. “That’s four fire-sure names on the wedding invitation list,” Debbie commented as they were driving back to George’s parents. “Absolutely,” George agreed. Their eyes met. “For life,” Debbie said. “For life,” George agreed. ______________________ The visit to the Hendersons was also nice if very different. For starters Debbie’s parents were quite a bit younger than George’s – Debbie being the oldest of four children while George only had a much older sister. George and Debbie sleeping together was never in the cards; the guest room having been made up for George in advance. But they were as welcoming to George as George’s parents had been to Debbie and the much younger siblings – just teenaged twin brothers and a sister of around ten – engaged in some serious hero-worshipping quickly. The relative ages of the Henderson family members puzzled George, but he didn’t work it out until one day when he and Debbie were looking through family photo albums. They had much fun studying the pictures from the Hendersons’ wedding – it seemed the subject of weddings appeared more and more on the agenda. The album was professionally done with explanatory texts and extra material like invitations, the service booklet, menus and so on. When they were alone George turned to Debbie. “There appears to be more than merely religious reasons for your mother preaching abstinence before marriage,” he whispered. “What do you mean?” Debbie asked. “Oh just some simple math,” George replied. “Try to compare you parents’ wedding date with your birthday, then factor in the age of your parents and the fact that you are seven years older than your brothers.” He studied Debbie’s face as it changed from confusion to comprehension. When she started to look critical, George intervened. “I think they must have had some pretty anxious and outright difficult times,” he said. “They want to ensure at all cost that you don’t have to go through that. It’s not hypocrisy – it’s all for love.” Debbie bit her lip. It was like a lot things were falling into place. This holiday was a good idea she thought. George thought so too; getting to know Debbie’s background was good, and he felt he was making a good impression. He was not wrong. Debbie and George were sitting on the bed in Debbie’s old room, talking and kissing one morning when they heard a girlish snigger and looked up to see little sister Danielle looking in on them. George simply waved and resumed kissing Debbie, wondering if the episode would have consequences. It had, in as much as Mr. Henderson took them aside after lunch and suggested that perhaps they should close the door if they wanted privacy. He was totally disarmed when George assured him that they weren’t going to go further than kissing and nothing they talked about couldn’t be mentioned in front of the family. The visit coinciding with Holy Week meant that much of the days took place at church and the diet was also influenced by the liturgical calendar. George took it all in his stride and the Hendersons, boosted by numerous enthusiastic comments from members of their congregation, were completely taken with George by the time he and Debbie drove back home. Their college life resumed; if anything they were even closer than before the break. There were a few new attempts from Mandy and her crowd to derail them but nothing they felt they couldn’t handle. Mandy cornered Debbie one day and told her there ‘was no way’ a ‘prissy ice-maiden like her’ could hold on to ‘a hunk like George’, but Debbie just laughed her off, pointing out that Mandy’s tactics weren’t all that successful either. What she actually said – much to her own shock, and certainly to the people overhearing it, was that Mandy had ‘preciously little to show for having spread her legs for all takers since the age of twelve’. Winning the argument – and completely humiliating a person who had humiliated her on a regular basis, may have felt good just then and there, but privately Debbie worried afterwards. Partly because she wasn’t by nature a vindictive person, and partly because she knew that Mandy was – and that the revenge might be fateful. Little did she know! But she brushed off the episode. She didn’t even tell George about it and got on with her life. George on his part was more diplomatic in brushing off overtures from Mandy. Again because he, in retrospect, felt remorseful for the village bike quip. Knowing Mandy less well, he was unaware that he was marked for her revenge Nothing short of complete subservience could have swayed her from what she was plotting. Intelligent Mandy was not, but cunning, deadly cunning. Unaware of this dark cloud on the horizon and inspired by Tony and Lucy’s obvious happiness – those two were talking about moving out of the dorms and sharing and apartment for their final year, Debbie and George grew steadily closer. Without actually talking directly about it, an engagement was on the cards and George went out hunting for a ring and decided that the Memorial Day long weekend was the right time to pop the question. He found a beautiful ring and booked their favorite restaurant for the Saturday. Life was good. ______________________ Debbie’s grandmother had practically raised Debbie when she was a baby. Debbie now knew that Gran had looked after her to allow her barely seventeen year old mother and nineteen year old father to complete their school and education. Gran was young; not even sixty yet, and in rude good health, Debbie thought – until the Saturday morning of Memorial Day weekend. When George turned up to take her out to their traditional Saturday Brunch, something he wouldn’t skip to avoid Debbie getting wind of the planned proposal that evening, he was met with a distraught and incoherent Debbie completely bloated with tears “What’s the matter my love?” he asked all concerned. “It’s Gran,” she wailed. “She’s had a stroke and is not expected to live. Mum just called and told me that if I wanted to see her again I had to rush.” “Where is she?” George asked. “I can drive you!” “No, you can’t,” Debbie sobbed. “She’s at a hospital in Chicago! She had flown up there to be with Uncle Paul for the Memorial Day weekend and collapsed in the airport. But Dad said there is a ticket for me at the local airport to fly there; the plane leaves in just under two hours.” “How on earth he managed to get you a seat on any plane this weekend is beyond me,” George said in admiration. “Anyhow, you’d better throw some stuff in a bag and I’ll rush you over to catch it.” “But we were going to be together for this weekend,” Debbie cried. She evidently had picked up George’s mood and knew something was afoot, if not quite what. “So be it love,” George replied trying – successfully – to hide his disappointment. “That can wait. Remember, you and me – that’s for life.” “Yes, for life!” Debbie replied – with a big, if teary, smile on her bloated face. Afterwards George had many occasions to curse himself that he hadn’t seized the moment to slip the ring onto Debbie’s finger. But he didn’t think of it at the time, and besides, he wanted the proposal to be a special perfect moment for both of them. He also had reasons to curse the traffic that morning which meant they were almost late. Fortunately Debbie had packed so lightly that she only had carry-on baggage or she certainly would have missed the flight. As it was, they arrived so late that George, with complete disregard for the parking-restrictions, parked the car in the drop-off zone, grabbed Debbie’s pack and rushed with her to the check-in counter. When he came back only ten minutes later, having given Debbie a toe-curling kiss right in front of a big burly security man, he discovered that he failed to lock his car. But he was so thankful he hadn’t been booked for the gross parking violation that he thought nothing of it until much, much later. Despite the airport being so busy with the holiday traffic, no-one had taken any notice of the car. If they had, they would have observed a young blonde woman approaching the car, looking furtively around, retrieving something from her hand-bag, opening the back passenger door, bending down to the floor, straightening up again, closing the door and walking away with another furtive glance, all in the span of, say, fifteen to twenty seconds, and taking place not two minutes before George returned. Actually, the episode was observed – by one of the numerous security cameras, but the grainy images on the endlessly reused tapes were never needed for anything, so they got erased by a new recording a couple of weeks later and the episode couldn’t be proven to have taken place. ______________________ With the long weekend plans thrown in disarray, George was somewhat adrift. Lucy and Tony were at Lucy’s parent’s place attending the wedding of Joss and Elise – Lucy’s former boyfriend and his new love. So George went out to see if there was anyone wanting to shoot pool at The Durant, but fled quickly when he was accosted by Mandy. Unfortunately there were later people remembering seeing the two of them exchanging words in private that evening. George actually just asked Mandy to leave him alone, but no-one heard that. Coming back to his dorm mid evening, George considered driving home to visit his parents – and later regretted bitterly not just doing so in the first place, when he had a surprise phone call from his sister. You couldn’t say that George and Mary were particularly close – Mary being six years older, she had always loved her little brother, but they hadn’t been friends when they were young. Mary had married young and moved far away and now lived with her husband and two small children on the West Coast. They didn’t see each other all that often – usually only at Thanksgiving or Christmas, but in recent years they had grown closer and established a firm adult friendship and George adored his nephew and niece, now six and four respectively “How’s my Baby Brother?” Mary asked. “All the better from hearing my Big Sister’s voice,” George replied. The exchange was completely automatic – they had started the routine years ago. “Have you got plans for the weekend?” Mary asked. “Not really,” George replied. “I did, but then it all came to naught.” “In that case, maybe you can hang out with me?” Mary said. “You see I’m at your neck of the woods. Tim’s grandfather has finally accepted to move to a nursing home. He’s eighty seven, so it was about time. Tim is helping his dad emptying the house so we all came over here, but it’s deadly boring for the kids so I’ve promised to take them to the amusement park. I was wondering if you would like to come?” “You mean the Family Park thing down on the highway? Sure, why not – it could be fun,” George replied. “It will be very busy this weekend of course, but I don’t mind at all. Seeing you and the little tykes would be great.” “Goody. Will we get to see the young woman that Mum and Dad keep raving about too?” Mary asked hopefully. “No, that’s just it,” George replied. “I’ve just sent her to Chicago urgently – her grandmother is apparently very ill.” “Poor kid,” Mary said. “But perhaps a whole day with Bill and Sam would be too much for a start anyway.” “Oh, I don’t think so – Debbie is very fond of kids and I think she and Samantha would hit it off,” George replied. “But alas, it’s not to be. At least not this weekend.” “Fine – we’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow to beat the lines,” Mary said. “Oh, so you’ve got transport?” George asked. “Absolutely – we hired a fancy car complete with kids’ seats and GPS; we’ll find you easily,” Mary replied. “That’s great. Pick me up from the park area at the Oval at eight then,” George agreed and they ended the call. The timing of this phone call proved critical for what later happened. Had Mary rung half an hour earlier, a lot of problems would have been avoided. As it was, Debbie got to call George first. Keeping a vigil at her grandmother’s bedside in Intensive Care meant that she couldn’t have her phone on, so she had left briefly to call George and tell him that she had arrived safely and what the situation was. At that point in time the arrangement with Mary hadn’t been made yet, so obviously George couldn’t tell her about it and only said ‘no idea’ when Debbie asked him what his plans were for the Sunday. George also didn’t mention his run-in with Mandy at The Durant – something which might possibly have proven beneficial, had he mentioned it. ______________________ The day at the amusement park was actually really god. Small Bill and even smaller Samantha adored their Uncle George and he was infinitely patient with them, queuing up with them for rides and other attractions. He also chatted happily with Mary, mostly about Debbie and his hopes for a future with her. Knowing how depressed her brother had been over the loss of Shannon, Mary was delighted with the change and expressed the hope that she would get to see Debbie over the summer perhaps or at least for Thanksgiving, something George agreed would be good and highly likely. Mid morning the kids wanted to try a junior roller-coaster at the far perimeter of the park. The line was endless, but George good-naturedly agreed and they slowly snaked their way towards the loading area and got close to having their turn when the whole operation ground to a halt. The man operating the system was cursing about some computer problem, and a woman, his wife as it turned out, who operated the booth where you could buy snapshots taken during the rides, simultaneously reported that her system had gone down too. George was right next to the man and when they had waited for a while offered his assistance. “Do you know anything about these dreaded things?” the man asked. “Possibly,” George replied. “I am doing a computer science degree and process control is my specialty.” “You’re a God-send then,” then man exclaimed, a bit like the drowning man clutching at any straw he can find. George was invited into the control room and quickly established that the control terminal was just that, a terminal. The actual computer wasn’t there. “It’s in our trailer on the other side of the fence,” the man said, having introduced himself as Henry. “How do we get there Henry?” George asked, fearing they were in for a long hike. “Oh, there is a private gate over there,” Henry replied, pointing to the far end of the roller-coaster. “Olena has a key for it.” George got Mary to look after the kids – and keep their place in the line, then went with Henry to get the key to the gate in the fence and not two minutes later he was in the remarkable spacious and pleasant trailer home where Henry and Olena lived. “This is a nice place!” George exclaimed. “It is,” Henry agreed. “And it should be. Olena and I live here all year.” “But surely the park closes in fall?” George suggested. “It does,” Henry agreed. “September is the last month when we’re open every day. Apart from the weekends in October, the park is closed until spring, but I have the job as caretaker during winter. I do maintenance in the off-season. It helps pay the bills.” “Makes sense,” George said. “Anyway, let’s have a look a look-see at that computer” George was led to a small room that served as an office and it didn’t take long for him to find the fault – a disk had run full. It turned out that the same device was being used for the control logs and the automatic pictures being taken during the rides. Since having the logs was a legal requirement, the system had come to a grinding halt when the disk filled up. Not that the logs took up much space, but the pictures certainly did. "How long do you normally keep those pictures?" George asked. "We keep a season's worth," Henry replied. "But there are pictures here up to two years old!" George exclaimed when he had sorted the overflowing directory. “God, I must have forgotten to delete them,” Henry said sheepishly. “That explains a lot.” "Sure does,” George agreed. “Shall I purge the ones from last year and older?" “Please do,” Henry said, and George started the process. Deleting such a big back-log of pictures takes a while, but as soon as there was enough space to reopen the logs, the control system became operational and by the time George and Henry were back at the ride, everything worked normally. As the roller-coaster started again, a large cheer went up from the crowds. "I owe you big time. Anything!" Henry exclaimed. “Right now all I want is to take Bill and Samantha on the ride,” George replied with a grin. And so they did; they even got two extra trips without having to queue up. Bill’s and Samantha’s squeals of delight were deafening; they had a lovely time. “Your clever Uncle fixed the roller-coaster,” Mary said to the kids when they finally exited the ride. The look of adoration from Bill and Samantha made George blush. He felt a longing for kids of his own. Debbie’s and his kids. They tried other rides too, but returned twice to the roller-coaster after lunch, getting one last trip just before it was time to go home. Bill was fast asleep when Mary dropped George off in the evening. Samantha had been too, but woke up briefly. “Luw ya Unca George,” she mumbled sleepily and let herself be kissed. “I love you too,” George said with a big smile and headed back home to his dorm. ______________________ So George had a lovely Memorial Day Sunday after all; the only aspect missing being Debbie of course. He was saddened and a little concerned that he hadn’t heard from her since her brief call Saturday. He tried to ring, but her phone wasn’t on, which he interpreted as Debbie still being with her Gran in the ICU. She wasn’t. If George’s Sunday was good, Debbie was beyond description awful. Shortly after she returned to her vigil Sunday morning – after a sleepless night in a bad, cheap hotel, her grandmother died without ever regaining consciousness. Debbie tried to call George several times during the afternoon but was told there was no connection; the mobile coverage at the amusement park was pretty poor at the best of times and with the huge crowds for the Memorial Day weekend – possibly the busiest time of the year, the network was completely congested. The atmosphere in Chicago was poisonous. Her uncle Paul and her father obviously didn’t get on at all. She was unaware that it had actually come to blows between them many years ago over her dad getting her mother pregnant, and since then they had barely tolerated each other. Her dad decided to concentrate on getting Debbie back home to college. Flights were outright impossible, but they managed to get bus tickets for a 40 hour odyssey that would just exactly get her back in time for classes Tuesday morning. Distressed, Debbie boarded the first of several busses at around the time George got home after the day out with Mary and the children. She sat down in the back of an overfull smelly bus only to discover that her mobile phone was out of battery. During Memorial Day Monday, George was getting frantic. He called and texted Debbie hourly, getting no reply. He didn’t have her parents’ mobile numbers, but found the number of their land line – to no avail. It went to voice mail every time he tried. To add insult injury, Debbie's period started on the way back in the bus. She had inadequate supplies and was in total agony most of the time. When she finally arrived at the bus terminal, on the other side of town from campus, she just exactly had time to rush to her class. She was more dead than alive when she exited two hours later – only to run straight into Mandy. “Why, look what the cat dragged in!” Mandy mocked her. Mandy looked smart and cool and perfect. All the self-confidence that Debbie had slowly built up during her time with George evaporated. She felt smelly and bloated and awful – and it was to get worse, much worse. “I told you a desiccated spinster like you couldn’t hold onto a guy like George,” Mandy intoned, making sure her audience could hear it all. “He had barely sent you on your way when he went looking for me on Saturday night. Telling me he was for once spared having to hear your pastor drivel and your choir wail, he suggested we get together Sunday. Oh boy, did we spend Sunday together. You have no idea how good he is. We went driving in that car of his, and no sooner were we out of town before he parked somewhere up in the hills and fucked me in the back seat. I felt like a teenager again, except none of my teenage lovers were that good. I came seven or eight times that day and could barely walk all day yesterday." “You’re lying,” Debbie shot back. “I refuse to believe he would go anywhere near you.” “Just ask Joanna here,” Mandy countered. “She saw us together Saturday night.” Joanna was one of Debbie’s fellow students and not a member of Mandy’s posse. She looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. “It’s true I saw George talking to Mandy at The Durant Saturday evening,” she said, “but I couldn’t hear what they were talking about and he left pretty quickly...” Debbie was worried now, but still defiant. “Why should I believe that he did anything with you on Sunday?” she demanded from Mandy. "I told you: Men have needs. He was horny and wanted a real woman,” Mandy replied. “And he got one, boy did he get one – I actually think my panties and pantyhose could still be in his car. But why don’t you ask him? Here he comes.” And indeed George did walk up to them at that very moment, hoping that Debbie would be back and gone to class. He wrapped her in a tight hug and for a brief moment she felt happy again, but the doubt nagged her. “Mandy says you spent the weekend together,” Debbie said, trying to make her voice sound light. “We didn’t!” George exclaimed, aghast at the very thought. “Why would I do that?” “You did talk to her on Saturday night,” Debbie said. “Joanna saw you.” “Well yes, but I left at once,” George said, all confused. “And I…” he started, wanting to tell about his weekend. “And I couldn’t get hold of you all day Sunday on the ‘phone,” Debbie added. “Of course you couldn’t,” Mandy smirked. “There is very little mobile coverage outside of town!” “Why, exactly,” George said – unaware that Mandy wasn’t referring to the amusement park and that he was now walking straight into the trap. Debbie felt like her heart went through a wringer “Can I have a look at your car?” she asked “My car?” George faltered. “What about my car?” “Just let me have a look,” Debbie demanded, now looking and sounding angry, “Sure, it’s right over there,” George said in manifest confusion, pointing to the student parking lot a few hundred yards away. Debbie marched over there, followed by Mandy and her posse, several other girls – and a completely bewildered George. “Keys,” Debbie demanded. Silently George gave her the keys and saw her opening the back door and rummage on the floor in the back. She let up a heartbreaking cry and stood up again, holding a pair of frilly panties and dark pantyhose in her hand. George was still gaping in disbelief when Debbie rushed over to him and slapped him hard across the face. “You BASTARD,” she wailed. “You filthy two-timing BASTARD. How COULD you? And with HER, of all people?” She threw the offending garments at him and then broke down crying and was escorted away by Joanna and another student. George’s frantic protests of innocence were ignored. When he turned around to confront Mandy she and her posse had disappeared. ______________________ George tried to call Debbie. At first to no avail since her phone was still dead, and then because she refused to answer his calls after she had recharged it. Of course as soon as she switched it on a mass of texts and missed calls messages came in, but she deleted them all – without checking the times. George tried to visit Debbie, but Kim stopped him from entering. “She has irrefutable evidence of your infidelity,” Kim said, repeating Debbie’s legal language with relish, “and she does not want to see you or talk to you. Go away!” George tried to talk to Debbie on campus. She avoided him and refused to talk to him when he managed to corner her. After a few days Kim got the campus guards to issue George with a warning, telling him that if he did not leave Debbie alone he could be thrown out of college. Tony and Lucy declared that they didn’t want to be involved. Lucy might have been willing to at least listen to George, but Tony was as convinced as Debbie and felt George had betrayed him too by “taking up with that bitch”. Lucy’s roommate had left college for ‘unspecified reasons’ and Tony practically lived with Lucy while they were hunting for an apartment, leaving George completely alone. When none of his and Debbie’s friends (or should that be ‘former friends’?) would listen to George he tried to confront Mandy at The Durant, demanding that she ‘withdrew her outrageous lies’. Mandy just laughed him off and beau of the moment, a brawny fellow, attempted to rough-handle George out of the bar. It came to blows and both of them were banned for the rest of the college year. Mandy didn’t care; she was tiring of the fellow anyway. George was now in a total funk. He’d turned all quiet in class. The professors were noticing since George had always been so active in the discussions. His written work was still very good, but he might as well not have been there at all for class. Debbie also changed, getting a hard edge. She had an ugly confrontation with her nemesis one day when Mandy taunted “There’s nothing you can have that I can’t take from you. There never was and there never will be.” The posse sniggered. Rather than breaking down crying, as Mandy had expected – and in her petty spitefulness hoped for, Debbie just shrugged. “Could be true,” she said, “apart from brains and integrity. You can never have the former, and you lost whatever you had of the latter when you sold your cherry to Nicholas for a soda in seventh grade.” The posse got very quiet and didn’t look at Mandy. After that PR disaster, Mandy tried to avoid Debbie – realizing she knew far too much about her for comfort. Debbie, on the other hand, stuck to Queen Mandy’s court like a burr, using every opportunity to embarrass her former ‘friend’. When Mandy had landed at particularly eligible boyfriend (i.e. handsome, rich and not too bright) and tittered with her friends about an engagement being in the cards, Debbie coming from out of nowhere (the next booth where she’d been hiding) likened that to ‘those supermarkets that have a special prize for customer number 100.000’. “The number’s about right too,” she said off-handedly. She then went for the kill adding “That’s why Mandy’s such a size-queen. Her cunt’s too sloppy for an ordinary sized man these days.” Mandy was hard pressed to keep her cool, especially because several of her entourage found it difficult not to laugh. Just before the summer break, the college had an ‘open day’ for prospective new students. Debbie had been asked to participate and caused a scandal when she described the pre-law program as ‘nothing more than a glorified reading list which would lead you nowhere – at least not anywhere near a good law-school.’ The faculty member who had coerced her into participating blew her top, demanding to know why Debbie was in the program when she found it so bad. “Because of poor judgment a couple of years ago,” Debbie replied icily. “But I’m not anymore. I’ll stay here over summer to do a couple of extra courses and do an arts degree instead. I want to teach.” Needles to say, none of the prospective students visiting that day enrolled in the pre-law program. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when exams were over and summer finally came. ______________________ George had signed up as a summer-intern with the tech firm that co-sponsored his scholarship. They were located not far from the college town, so he decided to stay in the dorms and commute. He left early in the morning and returned late at night, so he didn’t see Debbie – and in fact didn’t know she was staying for the summer too. Having been barred from calling or visiting, he resorted to writing her letters, care off her parents since he assumed she was there. Her confused parents forwarded the letters back to campus to Debbie who threw them out unopened. After about a month George decided to ring Debbie at home. Her father informed him that Debbie was not home for the summer and that he and his wife were under strict instructions not to talk to George – or about George to Debbie. He didn’t tell George that Debbie had stayed in college for the summer and since George had a suspicion that Debbie was with her parents, he didn’t go looking for her. Instead he immersed himself in work, putting in long hours during the weekends too. His firm was delighted with his work, guaranteeing him a job after graduation and they paid handsomely for the extra hours. When classes started again after the summer, nothing much of importance seemed to have changed. George was assigned a new room-mate. Terry was a slob. His antics drove George to distraction and in consequence he almost lived at the science library as a virtual recluse. He had very few classes with Tony and tried to avoid him, but he did run into Lucy and Tony one day on campus. They were wearing wedding rings and Lucy confirmed that they had gotten married over the summer. “Tony’s parents weren’t keen on us ‘living in sin’,” as she put it. “But they helped us getting a good apartment as a wedding present.” “Ah well,” George said. “If moral standards are good then double standards must be twice as good…” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tony snapped. “Only that you’ve been at it like rabbits for ages and practically lived together in Lucy’s dorm since May,” George said. “But suddenly you have to be married to share an apartment. It’s all about appearances.” Lucy looked pained, but Tony got furious. “You’re just pissed off because I didn’t want a two-timing philanderer as my best man,” he bristled. “I’m no such thing, and you know it,” George replied – his voice level. “But again – it’s all about appearances and I admit I was set up proper. Probably because I stood up for you, by the way.” “Appearances my ass,” Tony spat. “Can you tell me how Mandy’s underwear ended up in your car if she wasn’t there with you?” “Yes I can,” George replied. “It took me a while to work it out, but yes I know how.” “How?” Lucy asked – and her eyes were pleading. “It doesn’t matter now,” George replied with such sadness that tears were welling up in Lucy’s eyes. “I cannot prove it. To the people that matter – mattered – to me, there is irrefutable evidence of my infidelity.” He turned his back to them and walked away, not hearing Lucy’s anguished cry of “George!” and the ensuing row between her and Tony. The split between George and Debbie was common knowledge on campus so George’s presumed availability did not go unnoticed. Although tempered by the purported cause of the split, the ardor with which quite a few young women, led by Henrietta, tried to capture George’s attentions could have been amusing. But to George the clock was turned back to before he met Debbie. His heart was frozen over again. Once bitten, twice shy. Twice bitten and you stop trying. The only person George confided in was his mother, and even to her he withheld the details. She didn’t query too closely either; she seems satisfied with his assurance that he hadn’t cheated on Debbie. “Remember what I said son,” she concluded the phone call. “Never give up. She’s worth fighting for.” George agreed. He just didn’t know how. Late summer and early fall dragged on. Debbie was pleased with her arts courses. They were full of serious young women so avoiding male company didn’t make her stand out. She continued going to church, mainly in order to sing in the choir. She had a robust discussion with the pastor regarding pre-marital sex. He was a youngish man but not very intellectual and she found his arguments very unconvincing. The more she looked at it, the less she believed that true love required a wedding ring before it could be physical. She kept that understanding to herself, but she grew distant from the religious aspects of the choir – and distant from her parents. She had told them ‘it was over’ between her and George, but not why and she had no desire to do so. To her way of reasoning, her parents had instilled her with a false belief the pre-marital sex was a deadly sin chiefly to prevent her from making the mistake they had made, in essence crippling her social life and making her unable to function in a modern world. She was sure that had she gone to bed with George when they were both certain their relationship was for life, the episode with Mandy could never had happened. That didn’t absolve George from cheating on her. She still couldn’t fathom he would have done something as base as that – and with Mandy! – but despite having given up on a legal career, she still had a legal mind and the evidence couldn’t be explained away. She was perfectly aware that Mandy didn’t want George. She just wanted revenge on him – and on Debbie. It seems she had gotten it. Mandy always got what she wanted. ______________________ In late October George’s unspeakable room-mate was thrown out of college for cheating. Being far behind with lab course work, he had resorted to buying essays and making up results. Presumable he had made up the deficit during summer, but when the dubious origin of that work was discovered, the hammer fell swiftly and mercilessly. George ‘celebrated’ by cleaning their room thoroughly. It took a while and he was quite tired in the end. Having the room to himself, he could spread his belongings all over it. That included hanging a framed enlargement of a picture of him with his niece and nephew that his sister had sent him. It was from that day at the amusement park. It showed him exiting the roller-coaster with Bill and Samantha each holding tightly on to one of his hands and looking up at him with love and adoration. Mary must have snapped it just after the ‘clever uncle’ comment. He hung it over the now vacant second bed and was lying on his own bed, looking at the photo. For the first time since Shannon’s funeral he was crying. Crying over what he had lost. Crying over what could have been. Crying over not having any prospects of a small William and a small Samantha of his own. Something about the moisture in his eyes changed the focus. In the background of the photo he could make out quite clearly Olena’s booth where the snapshots from the rides were being sold. Suddenly his eyes were dry. Suddenly he was tired no more. He had a plan. He might not get back what he had lost, but he would be able to prove his innocence. His mind went into overdrive. He set out his objectives, he analyzed risks and their mitigation, he evaluated possible outcomes. When it was all clear in his head, he jotted down things he needed to buy and actions he needed to take. He was pressed for time, but he had always worked best under pressure. He had been messed with and outsmarted; it was time to show who the top brain was. ______________________ The weather had turned foul. It was dark and cold and windy at nights now and often wet. Walking home from choir practice alone was not pleasant. Debbie missed George terribly; he had always made her feel safe. Turning down a dark lane she thought she heard something move. ‘Get a grip girl,’ she chided herself. ‘There’s no one here.’ But still she upped her pace. It seemed to her anxious mind that the echo of her footsteps weren’t quite in sync and it was getting louder. She stopped and turned around – and saw him. He was a huge tall man. His mass of black curly hair was covered by a pantyhose that also mostly obscured his dark eyes, mouth and black goatee. In his big dirty hand he held a gun. He spoke in a slow drawl. “If you don’t scream you won’t get hurt. Do you get me?” Terrified Debbie stifled the scream that was just about to escape her lips. She nodded. “Good girl,” the giant drawled. The other large hand moved swiftly towards her face, pulling her woolen hat down over her eyes rendering her effectively blind. “Stand still,” the drawl commanded. She felt him touching her left leg and she heard a strange clicking sound. It was repeated on her right leg, mid shin. Next he did something similar to her hands. She realized it was cable binders. They weren’t so tight they would compromise her circulation, but her hands were close together and when he grabbed her by the arm and moved her forwards she nearly stumbled. “Small steps!” came the drawl, “or you will fall. You cannot run away from me.” Obliging, she followed the giant down the street with rapid short steps. They turned several times. When they stopped she heard a car door open. Next she was being pushed into a car seat. To her surprise she felt a seat belt being pulled across her body and heard the click when it was engaged. She was puzzled by this apparent gentleness but then assumed that her abductor didn’t want to be pulled over for having a passenger that wasn’t strapped in. She heard and felt the door next to her being closed and moments later the opposite side being opened and the man getting in. The car sounded and smelled new and it started up with a restrained expensive sound. She was trying to gauge from feel and sound alone where they were going, but it was difficult and as if the man had guessed her intention, he switched on the sound system. The music, if you could call it that, was Death Metal at an ear-piercing level. Debbie felt dizzy and disoriented quickly and lost not only all sense of direction but also of time. At one point her nose started to itch terribly – it was driving her insane. With her arms strapped together and held in by the seat belt she couldn’t reach to scratch no matter what she did. To her astonishment she suddenly felt her nose being scratched. The relief was instant. Peering down under the woolen hat she saw the large dirty hand scratching her nose. A big read angry scar ran across the back of the hand. She shuddered and closed her eyes. After an interminable drive the music finally ended and after another couple of minutes the car came to a halt. “Sit still,” the drawl said in her ear, making her jump. She heard him getting out of the car and get something from the boot. Several minutes later he returned and got her out of the car. “Not a sound!” he hissed and led her somewhere. “Two steps up,” he drawled and helped her up a couple of steps. She could sense a strong lamp overhead, the light filtering through her woolen hat. She heard a door bell ring and moments later a door right in front of them was opened. “What the h…” a male voice started to say, but her abductor cut him off. “Be quiet,” the drawl came. “If everyone do what I tell them to then no one gets hurt.” Debbie felt she was being led into a house. She could hear the frantic clicking of a telephone, then running steps and a frustrated outburst when a door failed to open. “Give it up Olena,” the drawl came. “The phones are down and the back door is blocked. Come out here and make sure I can see your hands.” She sensed that someone joined them in the entranceway. Then the voice said “Everyone go to the office.” She was being led somewhere, then made to sit down in a chair and to her immense relief the woolen hat was yanked off of her head. Temporarily blinded by the light, she found it difficult to make out her involuntary hosts. From behind her she heard her abductor in his low drawl issue a strange command. “Start up your computer Henry!” ______________________ The man, Henry presumably, didn’t react and the command was repeated. There was no change of emotion in the voice; it sounded like the abductor had all the time in the world. Henry started the computer and after a little while it was ready. “Locate the pictures from Memorial Day Weekend Sunday,” the voice said. “Find the ones from when the ride started running again after the breakdown – second or third trip, I think.” Henry complied silently, rummaging around for a little while. Then pictures of people – mainly small children with parents or older siblings – in a roller-coaster started to appear on the screen. Suddenly the voice called “Stop!” Debbie was transfixed. There on the screen in front of her was a clear picture of George and two small children, huddled closely into him from either side. Their hair was flying and their faces were caught in a moment of joy – you could almost hear their thrilled squeals. And in the lower corner of the pictures was a date and time stamp, showing Memorial Day Sunday at 10.58 AM. Debbie broke down in a sob. “George,” she cried in anguish. “It’s George. He was here!” Henry rolled the picture viewer forward and a couple of frames later, another picture of George and the unknown children on a subsequent trip appeared. Their happy smiles were piercing Debbie’s heart. She was crying openly. “Actually, the later pictures are even nicer,” the woman Debbie assumed was Olena said. She rummaged on a shelf over the computer desk and found a very large envelope. “I made prints of them all to give our rescuer as a small thank you for his help, but would you believe – that moron I’m married to never got a name or an address.” She opened the envelope and withdrew glossy prints of both the pictures Debbie had already seen and some subsequent ones. In the last picture, George was holding the little boy’s hand, but the little girl was sitting in the crook of George’s arm. They were looking at each other with an almost palpable love. It was time-stamped 6.20 PM. “He was here all day,” Debbie sobbed again. “He sure was,” Olena said, now sure of her hunch. She turned to the intruder “You were here all the time George, weren’t you?” ““Yes, I was here all day,” came the drawl. Henry’s jaw dropped and Debbie swung round to gape at the intruder in the corner of the room. He put down the gun on a table and with his large scarred hand he pulled off the pantyhose and the black curly wig in one long movement. He next snapped off the goatee, inserted to fingers in his mouth and withdrew the gauze rolls that had changed both his appearance and his voice. Finally he leant backwards pulled on his lower eyelids with two fingers of one hand and removed the dark brown contact lenses with the other hand – to unveil the piercing blue eyes of George Jacobsen. Still blinking, he picked up the gun gingerly by the barrel handing it to the bewildered Henry. “Take this Henry. It can’t hurt a fly; it’s a toy – if a very convincing looking one.” His voice still sounded strange; a little dry perhaps. He wet the inside of his mouth with his tongue and turning to Olena he now spoke in his normal voice. “Sorry about putting you through all this. Your back door is blocked by your rubbish bin – you can just remove it. On top of it sits a transmitter that has been jamming your mobile phones, and in the telco box on the wall next to the back door you simply need to reconnect the one loose wire – then your Internet and land line connection will be up again. You can phone the police; I shan’t run away and I shan’t resist what’s coming. I just needed for Debbie to know where I was on that Sunday." "Don't you dare call the police," Olena said in a menacing tone to her husband. "We came to no harm and the boy obviously needed a break." "Of course I won't," Henry agreed. "The boy saved my ass during the busiest day of the year. If he hadn't been there we would have had the damn thing sitting still all of the Sunday and the Monday - no chance of getting a repair man in during Memorial Day Weekend. I said I owed you big time; we shan't report this to anyone." “Thanks,” George said quietly. “I appreciate it.” They were all looking on in amazement as he completed the transformation. He unzipped the large coat, removed an upper-body fat suit, kicked off the boots with the four inch heels and wriggled out of a boiler suit, and reappeared as the normal George underneath. “Your hand,” Debbie whispered. “What happened to your hand?” “Oh that?” George replied pointing to the scar. “That came from the same theatrical supply shop as all the other paraphernalia. I knew I could disguise my hair and my eyes and my voice – and even my body shape and height. But I worried that you would recognize my hands. So I got the biggest, ugliest fake scar they had – and then had a play around with my bicycle chain.” He coolly retrieved a wet wipe from his back pocket, wiped away the black greasy oil and next peeled off the ‘scar’ with a quick snap. He winced. “Ouch, the glue takes all the little hairs with it – just like with the goatee.” “I would,” Debbie whispered. “I would recognize you hands everywhere. That’s how it all started – with your hands warming mine.” Tears were streaming down her face. “I think you owe us a story boy, and you too young lady,” Olena said. “Agreed,” Henry said and stood up with a grunt after having cut the cable binders off of Debbie’s legs with a pair of scissors. “Something’s going one here that I don’t get – although the missus seems to have cottoned on to a lot of it fast.” He proceeded to liberate Debbie’s hands too. ______________________ Between them the sad story of the last half year in the life of George and Debbie was told. In the end Olena was shaking her head. “How could you ever believe George cheated on you?” she demanded of Debbie. “I don’t know,” Debbie sobbed. “Or perhaps I do. The evidence was so strong. And besides, I couldn’t believe that this gorgeous wonderful man would really want me. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. And Mandy kept saying I couldn’t possibly keep a man if I didn’t sleep with him.” “I’d like to strangle that cow,” Olena said. “We had one just like her at our high school. She made life miserable for everyone. She even tried to get Henry from me just to spite me.” “But she didn’t get me!” Henry said smugly. Turning to George he asked the most bewildering question “Why didn’t you just tell Debbie you were here?” “I tried to,” George replied. “But she wouldn’t listen to me. I wrote to her about it too, but she didn’t react.” “I threw away the letters,” Debbie said, starting to cry again. “Besides, she wouldn’t have believed me. You can’t call my sister an impartial witness,” Georg said simply. “So that’s who those kids are,” Debbie sobbed enlightened. “I thought they looked like you. They are absolutely adorable.” Olena smiled. “Yes, that little girl is your fiercest competitor Debbie. You treat her Uncle George badly, and you’re in trouble.” “Never,” Debbie smiled through the tears. “Never again – if he will take me back.” “As if there was ever any doubt!” George scoffed. “For ever, remember?” He opened his arms and Debbie flew into them. “I think we all need a cup of tea or coffee now,” Olena said, blinking away a tear or two, and led the young lovers into the living room. They didn’t stay long; George helped Henry reestablish the phone line and carried the highly illegal mobile jammer back to the car. “Nice set of wheels,” Henry commented. “Yes,” George replied. “It’s a rental. Couldn’t use my own, or Debbie would have recognized it.” “You planned for everything, didn’t you?” Henry said with admiration. “No,” George replied simply. “Not everything. If either you or Debbie had put up any resistance then the game would have been up. I was not going to use any force on anyone.” As they were leaving, Henry said “This has been an evening to remember. We can dine out on this story for years to come.” Olena concurred. “Oh absolutely! And we shan’t report this episode – on one condition: That we get invited to the wedding!” ______________________ “Can you really forgive me?” Debbie asked when they were in the car and on their way back to college. “Not that there is anything to forgive now that I know you still love me,” George said, pulling the car over on the dark quiet road. “But I can do better than merely say that.” He pulled a small box from the inner pocket of his ordinary jacket that had been retrieved from the boot. “Deborah Elaine Henderson you know I love you. Will you be my wife?” “Yes!” Debbie squealed. “Yes, yes, yes!” She opened the box with trembling hands. “Oh George, it is beautiful! When did you get it?” “Just before Memorial Day weekend. I meant to propose to you that Saturday evening,” George said with just a hint of sadness in his voice. “When you were called away to your grandmother’s deathbed, I so very nearly slipped it on your finger in the airport. I wish to God I had done that!” “George,” Debbie said firmly. “That’s history. It doesn’t matter any more. Do it now!” He did and she kissed him and kept kissing him until they were interrupted by a knock on the window and the torch light of a highway police officer falling on their faces. Sheepishly George rolled down the window. “You can’t park here son,” the policeman said. “It’s too dangerous.” “Sorry officer,” George replied. “But Debbie has just accepted my proposal.” Debbie held up her left hand, showing the ring. “Good for you son,” the policeman said. “Congratulations to you both. But you’re not married yet. Get the young lady home, OK?” “Yes sir,” George said and as the policeman stepped back, he drove off. “He has a point,” George said. “We’re not married yet. Better get you home to bed.” “I don’t want to sleep alone anymore,” Debbie replied. “Not sleeping with you when we both wanted to nearly meant I lost you forever.” “No Debbie, that’s not true,” George protested. “When I said I could wait I was serious. I could and I can.” “Yes, I know – but it has left us vulnerable to the outside world.” Debbie explained. “Besides, I’ve been thinking about this. A lot. Your ring on my finger is plenty proof of your commitment. I’ve waited long enough. Where can be together? I don’t think Kim would take kindly to being turned out…” “Hardly,” George laughed. “But actually, I live alone after my new room mate got kicked out for cheating, so we can go there.” After a short pause he added “And we can sleep there together. But if you want to, you can still be a virgin when you wake up tomorrow.” “I know I could,” Debbie smiled. “But I don’t want to be. In my heart we were married the moment you held your arms open to me at Henry and Olena’s place. My heart has belonged to you since the day you walked me home. I don’t ever want to be apart from you again.” ______________________ And no, Debbie was not a virgin the next morning. Their first night together was sweet, gentle, and loving. They undressed without shyness, climbed into George’s narrow bed kissing, cuddling, licking, and touching each other everywhere. When they felt the time was right, George got between Debbie’s legs and entered her with a swift motion. She was very wet and ready for him and the pain was minimal. What little pain there was quickly dissipated for pure joy. Her body responded with a passion that surprised her, but not George, and before long she was crying out in orgasm. George was not far behind and emptied himself in her. They rolled to their sides, George still inside her, and fell asleep almost instantly. In the morning they woke up still in each other’s arms. Debbie rolled George over on his back, mounted him, and guided his morning erection into her very wet vagina. Setting her own pace, she rode him slowly and languidly, stopping several times to kiss him. When his large hands starting playing with her breasts she came and kept coming and when she felt the wet heat of his ejaculate, she screamed the house down. “I think you have announced your presence to my neighbors,” George laughed. “Guess so,” Debbie blushed. “Was I very loud?” “What?” George said in mock deafness. “Oh you,” Debbie laughed. Still naked, she stood out on the floor looking closely at the picture over the other bed. “I wonder if ours will look like that,” she said. “I hope they will – they are gorgeous. I can’t wait to find out.” “Unless you’re on the pill, you may not have to wait all that long,” George said sheepishly. “I forgot all about condoms.” “Never mind,” Debbie said. “Even if we made a baby just now, I can still graduate.” “But I thought you wanted to go to law school afterwards,” George said bewildered. “Nope, I gave up on that idea,” Debbie said coolly. “I’ve changed my major and will become a school teacher. But first I want to be a mother.” They missed their classes that morning. First they returned to bed, and then they – reluctantly – got up and dressed and went to get Debbie’s clothes and other belongings from her dorm. When they returned to George’s room they decided it was time for long overdue showers. Together. Which let them back to bed. Around one PM hunger finally drew them out of bed and they went to one of the college cafes for lunch. Their being together caused small ripples of sensation. Their closeness, not to mention the prominent ring on Debbie’s finger, was unmistakable. “I take it you no longer need that restraining order on him Miss,” a friendly college guard said with a grin. “You’re not wrong,” Debbie replied and planted a big kiss on George’s lips. “And if I’d had half a brain, I never would have needed it in the first place. Things are not always what they seem.” “I’m pleased to hear that Miss,” the guard said. “He seems like a very nice fellow, not one to cause trouble,” “Oh, I can cause trouble if the cause is sufficiently important,” George smiled. “Like winning back the girl I love.” “Oh yeah, what kind of trouble?” the guard asked, though still smiling. “I think George will have to plead the Fifth Amendment on that,” Debbie grinned, and the guard walked off laughing “You gave up on law?” George asked in amazement. “Yes, I did,” Debbie replied firmly. “It was never really my desire in the first place. From now on I want to do what I want. That first and last includes being with you.” “Amen to that,” George said and pulled her in for a close hug. They went to their respective classes in the afternoon, but met up afterwards and deliberately went to The Durant that evening. As expected, Mandy and her posse were there. “I see someone is not too particular who she’s with,” Mandy mocked when she’d recovered from the shock of seeing George and Debbie together. “Or perhaps she’s desperate and will take back a cheat because she can have no one else.” The posse sniggered. “Oh, I am particular,” Debbie said sweetly. “But you’re right in that I was desperate to get George back once I discovered that he had never cheated on me.” “So what lies did he fill you with girl,” Bea demanded with a derisive snarl. “George didn’t have to say a thing,” Debbie retorted. “I got independent irrefutable evidence that George did not spend the day with that pathetic pathological lying bitch.” She drew out one of Olena’s time stamped pictures from her hand bag. “Here’s proof positive that Mandy is nothing but a clumsy vindictive liar.” “That picture’s a fake!” Bea yelled. “It is a fake, isn’t it Mandy?” Bea looked appealingly at Mandy and faltered. Mandy had unaccountably gone silent and was white in her face. “Only Mandy is a fake,” George said, speaking for the first time. “And a sneak. She must have planted her underwear in my car when I left it unlocked for ten minutes that Saturday morning. Perhaps one of you remembers that she was in the airport?” He looked around. Bea’s hand flew to her mouth to silence an audible gasp. She went white as a sheet too and looked around wildly. “Thanks Bea, that’s what I thought,” George said, took Debbie’s hand and walked off to another part of the bar. A very sheep-faced Tony walked up, prodded along by Lucy. “I owe you an unconditional apology,” he said. “Your apology’s accepted,” George said holding out his hand. “But you owe me nothing. Although I would be very happy if you would be the best man at our wedding.” “He will,” Lucy said with tears running down her cheeks. “He will. Now, please tell all!” They sat down together and told all. ______________________ It was late when they left The Durant. “There’s a vacant apartment in our building,” Lucy said as they parted. “Please consider it.” “We will,” George replied. They agreed to meet for Saturday Bruch at the Jefferson Café and walked off in opposite directions. When they were back in George’s dorm and snuggling up closely after yet another mutually satisfying session of love-making, George brought up some practical matters. “I honestly think we should consider Lucy’s suggestion. It is not really practical for us to stay together in this room – nor is it strictly legal according to the dorm rules. Besides, I made so much money over summer that we can easily afford it.” They resumed kissing for a while, but there was more on George’s mind. “We must talk to our respective parents soon – and set a date for the wedding.” “I like the sound of that,” Debbie said and snuggled in close. “When did you have I mind?” “Well, actually, Saturday of the Thanksgiving holiday,” George said. “Thanksgiving?” Debbie exclaimed. “Are you out of your mind? That’s in four weeks!” “And?” George said. “My sister and her husband and kids will be at my parent’s place. There would be no wedding without them after all. And I’m sure Karen at her family would be thrilled – as will Tony and Lucy and Henry and Olena. If you call your parents and tell them that’s how it is going to be, I’m sure they’ll come too. It could be at our local church if you like. We aren’t exactly regulars, but Dad and the pastor are good friends. I’m sure they could work it out.” “You have a point,” Debbie said. “We don’t really want anyone else, do we? I can have Lucy as a Matron of Honor, but I don’t know who I could have as my Bride’s Maid. My little sister is so young.” “Tiff and Jess,” George said without hesitation. “They would love to do it.” “Brilliant!” Debbie exclaimed. “Oh I love you,” she said and proceeded to demonstrate just how much. They aired the plans with Tony and Lucy over brunch. It was received with enthusiastic approval: “It saves us from making the agonizing decision over whose parents to spend our first Thanksgiving as a married couple with!” Tony laughed. “You’re not wrong there,” Lucy agreed. “Let’s get cracking.” The call to the Jacobsens was short and sweet. ”I got her back,” was all George said the moment his mother had answered the phone. “Momma knows best,” Mrs. Jacobsen replied archly. “So where and when’s the wedding?” she added in her teasing voice. “Your place, Thanksgiving Saturday,” George replied with a continued economy of words. There was only the briefest of hesitations and George wondered if he would ever catch his mother out. “Sure,” his mother said. “That will please Mary – she and Tim and the kids are coming. Who else will be there?” George explained. He was a little evasive about who Henry and Olena were but adamant they were indispensible. He also admitted there could be some doubt about the bride’s family’s attendance. “I think Debbie will present it as a take-it-or-leave-it deal.” “Don’t worry. They’ll come,” his mother assured him. “I can call them if need be. But isn't there anyone else from her side of the family that she would want to attend? I mean it is Thanksgiving Holiday and the notice is short, so you should contact people now.” “No. After her Gran died there is only an uncle – Debbie’s mother’s twin brother. But they don’t see eye to eye,” George said and explained that relations were still so bad that Debbie’s family had to stay in a bad hotel rather than with her Uncle Paul when she went up to Chicago when the grandmother was dying. “Ouch,” Mrs. Jacobsen said. “But anyway, if that’s so then the party is very manageable. With you two and Dad and me and Mary’s four and Karen’s four and Debbie’s parents and three siblings and your two college friends and the two mystery friends, I make it twenty-one total. We can easily fit them in our house for the dinner.” “Really?” George asked, perpetually amazed with his mother’s resourcefulness. “Absolutely,” Mrs. Jacobsen said with conviction. “There were more people for Dad’s fiftieth birthday. Don’t worry. Now, can I talk to my daughter-in-law to be?” “Yes Mom,” George said and handed over the phone to Debbie in a daze. “Hello Mrs. Jacobsen,” Debbie said. “In four weeks time you will have as much claim to that title as I do sweetheart,” Mrs. Jacobsen said drily. “So you can call me Helen. Or ‘Mom’ as you did at Easter. I loved the sound of that.” “Happily,” Debbie agreed. “And are you and Mr. Ja.., I mean Jeff, happy about George and me being together again and getting married and all?” She tried to make her voice sound light, but in all honesty she was petrified. George had forgiven her, of that she was certain, but parents are different. “I am ecstatic, and Jeff will be too when he hears it,” Mrs. Jacobsen said. “He’s out right now but will be home in an hour. But yes, I couldn’t be happier. I told George after your visit not to ever let you get away.” “Oh,” Debbie said and had to wipe away a tear or two. “Anyway,” Mrs. Jacobsen said. “Four weeks is not all that much time. Do you think you and those college friends of yours could make it down here next weekend for some power-planning?” “I don’t know about Tony and Lucy, but I’ll ring them right away and ask,” Debbie said. “Oh, and Karen. We’re going to invite her and her new family. George suggested we should ask Tiff and Jess to be Bride’s Maids. Danielle, my sister, is so young. She’s only ten.” “I’m sure they will be thrilled,” Mrs. Jacobsen said. “But what about Lucy?”’ “She’ll be matron of honor,” Debbie replied. “She and Tony are already married.” “Oh, so they won’t need separate bedrooms when you visit?” Mrs. Jacobsen asked. “No,” Debbie replied. “And neither will George and I. That mistake has been rectified.” Mrs. Jacobsen, with a mother’s tact, did not inquire further. ______________________ Tony and Lucy were willing and happy to do wedding planning the following weekend and the jubilation in Karen’s household was deafening. Henry and Olena were touched. “I only meant it for a joke,” Olena said. “Rubbish,” George countered. “Without you there wouldn’t be a wedding. You must come.” There was some whispering in the background and Olena came back on the line. “Henry says we’re coming,” she said – her bemusement clear in her Slavonic accent. “Good!” George said. “There’ll be an invitation in the mail in a few days.” The call to the Henderson household was less smooth sailing. Debbie waited until she knew they would be home from church Sunday. She chose a brisk approach. “Hi Mom! Guess what?” she said brightly when her mother answered the phone. “Debbie, what happened?” her mother exclaimed. “Why do you think anything’s happened?” Debbie asked mystified. “But yes, something has happened. A lot actually. The short version is that George and I are getting married on the Saturday of Thanksgiving.” The silence was oppressive. Debbie cursed herself for the flippant start to the conversation, but she had agonized over how to play it. “Say something!” she pleaded. “Well!” Mrs. Henderson exclaimed. “That is news. And rather unexpected news.” Her tone of voice clearly indicated it was also unwelcome news. “I thought it was over between you and that young man. Mrs. Buchanan told me a thing or two about him – on how he tried to play both you and Mandy behind the other’s back.” “Rubbish,” Debbie spat. “That slut tried to snare him from me, planting her underwear in his car and claiming he spent a passionate day with him while Gran was dying. And to my shame I believed her. Luckily there was proof positive it was a lie, and George, the sweetheart, took me back.” “Debbie! That’s your best friend you’re talking about,” Mrs. Henderson said scandalized. “I am sure Mandy is a good girl who would never do something like that.” “You’re wrong,” Debbie said. “She is not my friend anymore – if she ever was; it was all so one-sided. And as to being a ‘good girl’, ha! I’m sure every boy since seventh grade has thought so. But not in the way you understand the term.” “I find that very hard to believe, and I still have serious reservations about this George fellow. As I’m sure your father will too,” Mrs. Henderson said. “I think he would have to come and explain himself, and then – if he can do that to our satisfaction – we may consider the two of you getting engaged, provided that you don’t get married until you have both finished your degrees.” “Mom, I don’t think you get it,” Debbie said with diminishing patience. “George and I are getting married on the Saturday of Thanksgiving at George’s parent’s church with a reception at the church hall and dinner at their home afterwards. I would like you and my siblings to be there. I want Dad to give me away. I want Greg and Michael to be ushers and I need Danielle to help looking after the little page boy and flower girl – George’s nephew and niece.” “Just like that?” her mother asked. “Just like that,” Debbie confirmed. There was a long pause and then her father came on the line. “Your mother is very upset,” he said. “What’s the rush? You’re not pregnant, are you?” “No,” Debbie replied tersely. “I’m not. At least, I don’t think so, although we’re working on it. I just don’t want to be living away from George one moment longer. And I thought it would be best if we were married when we move in together; George’s dorm room is quite small, but we can get an apartment on December first – that’ll fit fine.” The phone was yanked from Mr. Henderson. “I expect my daughters to be virgins on their wedding days!” Mrs. Henderson bristled. “Well,” Debbie said coolly, “perhaps Danielle will be – that’s for her to decide. I’m not. I’ve found the man of my life and we fit together perfectly on that front too.” “Debbie!” her mother started. “Don’t you Debbie me!” Debbie shot back. “You weren’t a virgin on your wedding day, or I would have been premature beyond survival with the birthday I have. Besides, I know Uncle Paul beat up Dad for knocking up his twin-sister, so cut the crap. When I get pregnant it will be because I want to get pregnant. And hopefully it will happen soon. But that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about my wedding. It happens in four weeks and I want you to be there. Mrs. Jacobsen, who is an absolute sweetheart, will need to know if you are coming. You make up a quarter of the guests, so it is not irrelevant.” “But what will the congregation say?” Debbie’s mother wailed. “You mean, what will that self-important witch Mrs. Buchanan say?” Debbie rephrased the question. “I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned they won’t get a say. That’s why we’re doing it at George’s parents’ church. Please come.” ______________________ There was an impasse after that. George called his mother who called Mrs. Henderson. Two hours later Helen Jacobsen could tell a relived Debbie that her parents and siblings would attend – and that she had miraculously found accommodation for them at a motor-inn in town. “Helen, you are fantastic,” Debbie sobbed. “How did you manage to persuade them?” “It wasn’t all that hard,” Mrs. Jacobsen replied. “I reminded your mother of the rift between her and her brother. I said it was sad if pride and stubbornness should hold family away from each other. She agreed.” The wedding-planning weekend was fun. Tony and Lucy got on extremely well with both George’s parents and with Karen and her family. They had dinner there after they had been out to arrange for clothes for the bride and her attending women – there was an excellent bridal shop in town. Tiffany was much taken with Tony. “Does he have a brother?” she asked Lucy in the time-honored tradition. “Oh yes,” Lucy replied. “Pete’s a very nice guy – and even taller than Tony although he’s only seventeen…” Tiffany’s facial expression was a study. “I hope he isn’t coming for the wedding,” her father mumbled. “Or we’ll be in trouble.” The month flew and suddenly Thanksgiving was upon them. Debbie and George skipped classes on the Wednesday afternoon and started the drive up to George’s parents at noon to avoid traffic. Mary and her husband had managed to get the entire week off and were already there when George and Debbie arrived. Despite being quite late, Bill and Samantha had insisted on staying up. Bill was asleep on the sofa, but Samantha was still – just – awake when the car drove into the driveway. “Unca George!” she cried and flew over to hug him when the door opened. Debbie was looking lovingly at the little girl, smiling at them. George smiled back. “Samantha, meet Auntie Debbie,” he said. Samantha turned around without letting go of George’s neck and studied Debbie critically. She must have liked what she saw. “Hello A’nti Debbie,” she said. “Mummy says you make Unca George very happy.” “That’s right,” George said. “She does.” “Mmm,” Samantha said approvingly and held out her arms to be hugged by Debbie too. “Well, well, well,” Mary said. “That’s a seal of approval. And it gives me a chance to hug my brother.” Introductions were made. They were made all the easier for Debbie by Samantha refusing to let go of her. “Can A’nti Debbie put me to bed?” she asked hopefully when her mother had firmly declared bedtime. Debbie did. They had a traditional Thanksgiving and ended up feeling as stuffed as the turkey. They spent Black Friday digesting and generally getting to know each other – Mary and Debbie getting on like a house on fire; Samantha unwilling to leave Debbie’s side even for moments. In the afternoon Tony and Lucy arrived. “I look forward to being able to afford some half decent transport,” Lucy grumbled. “That huge old pickup truck of Tony’s may be handy on a farm, but comfortable it ain’t!” In the evening the Hendersons arrived and took Debbie away to spend the night with her parents at the motel. That was Mrs. Jacobsen’s idea, and it went down well with Mrs. Henderson. “Diplomacy one, comfort nill!” Mr. Jacobsen laughed when George grumbled at having to sleep alone. “I know Dad,” George said. “But I have gotten used to having her in my bed now.” “For shame!” Mary mocked. “You’re not married yet.” They all laughed. The wedding ceremony was in the afternoon – that’s what the pastor had been able to squeeze in. It all ran like clockwork. Debbie arrived on the dot and walking up the aisle on her father’s arm, she took George’s breath away. They said their “I dos” and it was all done. A few friends of the Jacobsen family were there and had a drink or two in the church hall while the mandatory photos were taken, but then the wedding party convened at the Jacobsen household for the dinner. “Don’t I know you?” Mary asked when being introduced to Harry and Olena. “I think we have met somewhere.” “We have,” Olena replied, “although we weren’t introduced then. Your brother fixed our roller-coaster for us when you went there with your darling children at Memorial Day weekend.” “That’s where I’ve seen you,” Mary exclaimed. “I didn’t know you and George were friends.” “We had never met before,” Harry said. “But we were sure grateful for George’s help with the computer. Without him we wouldn’t have made any money that weekend. And later on when he needed our help with something, we were only happy to do so – even if the circumstances were unusual.” He smiled. “Therein lies a tale,” Mary said with an inquiring look “There does,” Harry agreed. “But it is for George – and Debbie – to tell. We’re sworn to secrecy.” “Let’s just say that the pictures of your gorgeous children were quite important,” Olena said, looking lovingly at Samantha and Bill in their wedding finery. “Have you got children of your own?” Mary asked. “No,” Olena said sadly. “I’m a Chernobyl orphan. It blew up on my eighth birthday. Dad was a firefighter and died immediately. Mom died soon after from radiation sickness. I was very ill and got adopted by distant US relatives. I met Henry in high school. He married me even though he knew I can’t have children.” “But what about adoption?” Mary ventured. “You can only be, what,” she did a quick mental calculation, “thirty three?” Even as she asked the question she guessed the answer – Olena looked much older than that, “I’ve had too many bouts with cancer, so we cannot adopt,” Olena said simply. “Even if we could get approved, it wouldn’t be fair on a child. Instead, Henry and I try to make as many children as possible happy at the park. It is lovely work.” Debbie had moved over and heard the last part of the exchange. ”If you can’t be parents, then at least you can be Godparents,” she said, putting her arms around the much too slender woman. “If it wasn’t for you, George and I wouldn’t be here today as man and wife.” What’s a wedding without a few happy tears? ______________________ Deciding that a honeymoon would have to wait, Debbie and George only spent their first couple of nights as a married couple in a hotel a short distance away, then returned to college and their studies. On the first of December they took over an apartment next door to Tony and Lucy. The two couples were practically always together. Despite their vigorous efforts, Debbie wasn’t pregnant yet when the Christmas break came. The holiday was split between the Hendersons and the Jacobsens, the former surprising Debbie by having replaced the single bed in her old room with a comfortable double bed. And placing a prominent key in the lock. During the endless cooking sessions, Debbie and her mother talked a lot of things through, including the true nature of Debbie’s erstwhile ‘best friend’. “I am so ashamed; I had no idea she was treating you like that,” Mrs. Henderson said, completely aghast. “I was so wrapped up in social status – what with Mandy’s mother dominating everything in church and town. I didn’t realize it came at such a cost to you.” “I should have told you Mom,” Debbie replied. “And I should have challenged you on the thing about sex earlier too.” “What can I say?” Mrs. Henderson said, looking forlorn. “Please forgive me!” “Of course Mom,” Debbie said, hugging her mother tight. “It ended well for me. I couldn’t be happier – and my sex life is great!” She giggled, and then turned serious again. “But please be a little more open with the boys and especially with Danielle.” “But she’s so young,” Mrs. Henderson started. “Exactly,” Debbie replied. “So it’s much easier to talk about sex now – rather than when hormones hit and everything is embarrassing.” “You have a point there,” her mother said. Then, after a pause, added with a smile, “Perhaps you were right in deciding to become a teacher.” “I think so, Mom,” Debbie smiled back. “That will give me lots of kids – not just my own.” ______________________ Epilogue After the New Year, Mandy’s standing at college was at an all-time low. Deciding to try to boost it with a huge display of wealth and glory, an Engagement Party was planned for Valentine’s Day at the city’s leading hotel and ballroom. Guilt-edged invitations were sent out to all and sundry; to Mandy’s chagrin most of the locals said ‘No thanks’, meaning that a lot of non-entities from Mandy’s home-town were invited instead, including transport and accommodation. Mr. Buchanan grumbled, but signed the checks. Amongst the local invitees were ‘Mr. and Mrs. Antonio Allegri’ and ‘Mr. and Mrs. George Jacobsen’ – who all refused to even refuse the invitation. “She’s got some cheek, that girl,” Lucy snarled. George was of the opinion that at least they should send their regrets, but the other three were adamant that they owed Miss Buchanan exactly nothing. Even the weather seemed to gang up against Mandy. Unlike the previous year that had seen a beautiful clear, if frosty, Valentine’s Day, this year it was a few degrees above freezing and pouring down with rain. Mysteriously, the water couldn’t drain away outside the venue, almost transforming the road to a river. But late in the afternoon the rain at least stopped so that Mandy, her mother and Cindy – the only member of the original posse still hanging on – could make their grand entrance and receive the adoration and admiration of the invited claqueurs as planned. They were so focused on navigating the almost overflowing sidewalk in their finery that they didn’t notice the large pickup truck accelerating out of a side street towards them. They didn’t know anything was amiss until seconds before the driver pulled hard on the wheel, swerving away from them but sending a deluge of dirty, icy cold water over them, completely destroying clothes, makeup, and coiffure alike. They were in complete disarray and the grand party fizzled out before it even started. They, literally, never knew what hit them. By the time they had gotten enough water and debris off of their faces to be able to see again, the truck had disappeared around a corner and they never saw it or its driver clearly. They didn't notice the number plate, but Mandy was fairly certain she knew the vehicle and the dark-haired driver, having been taken places in such a truck by Tony two years previously. Mr. Buchanan was used to getting his way in his home town. The local police were less pliable, but when it was shown next morning that the gutter drains outside the hotel had been blocked with building foam, it admittedly looked like a premeditated action, and they reluctantly agreed to send a policeman to interview one Antonio Allegri, owner of a vehicle similar to the one at the scene. Escorted by the Buchanan family’s lawyer, Mr. Buchanan and Miss Buchanan, the policeman knocked on Tony and Lucy’s door early next morning, looking visibly uncomfortable. Tony was adamant he was innocent and could prove it. He and Lucy had celebrated their one-year engagement anniversary the previous evening at a charming little restaurant some 50 miles away. No, they had not been driving in his old pickup truck. It was none too warm or comfortable in winter. They had borrowed their neighbors’ car instead. Tony didn’t think Mr. and Mrs. Jacobsen had gone out themselves; they were planning a rather more private Valentine’s celebration. “But anyone could take the truck if they wanted to,” Tony added helpfully. “Those old things are incredible easy to hot wire so I never lock it – it would just be broken in to. Of course, leaving cars unlocked can be dangerous as Mandy knows,” he added sweetly. “But I don’t think the truck was out driving last night. It is parked just where I left it.” “George!” Mandy fumed and directed the party next door. Debbie was no more forthcoming. She and her husband were indeed celebrating in private last night. She was adamant that her husband had never left her sight. “Besides, he is blond, not dark-haired,” she said when asked. At that point the harassed policeman called it quits, left the Buchanans to nurse their grievances and the occupants in the building to themselves. Said occupants met for morning coffee and a good laugh a little while later. “I think you’d better throw that black wig out now,” Tony said to George. “I already did,” George laughed. “So what else were you up to last night?” Lucy asked with a grin. “Celebrating,” Debbie said with emphasis, drawing a small white plastic stick out of her purse. “Celebrating the irrefutable evidence that Olena and Harry will be Godparents sometime in autumn.” THE END.