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.