Chapter Eight – Saturday
Saturday morning the alarm on my iPhone goes off at 4:30. The night before I set it that early so I’d have plenty of time to get ready and be at work by 6, but I’m having second thoughts now since I woke up in the middle of a nice dream. After shaving and taking a shower I get dressed and get something to eat before leaving to walk the short distance to the Chick-fil-A. The city looks a lot different in the morning in the dark. The streets are empty of traffic with only a few cars out this early. My walk only takes about fifteen minutes before I’m at the Chick-fil-A, and since the place opens at 6:30 the inside is all lit up so it looks like the place is open. I enter the building through the back door, and as I make my way towards the front I see Keith busy preparing for the opening, getting the cash registers set up and supervising the crew in the kitchen preparing the biscuits and chicken filets.
“Good morning, Keith,” I say, “What would you like me to do this morning?”
“Oh, I’m glad to see you this morning. We are going to be short handed since Mindy called in sick,” he says. “I’ll put you in charge of getting the dining room prepared for opening.”
In the dining room all of the chairs are turned over on the tables since the evening crew mopped the floor and left all the chairs up. It takes me a few minutes to get them in the proper position. Next I wipe each table and chair and place a vase on each table with a small carnation. I always thought fresh flowers on the tables give Chick-fil-A a little class for a fast food place. In the middle of the dining area is a section with paper napkins, plastic spoons and forks, and different small packages of ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, and sauces. I check to see what items are in short supply, then go to the back and find a box with extras and bring them out to refill each item.
Keith instructs me, “After you're finished there you can resupply the area behind the counter.”
The dining area looks pretty ship shape, so I go behind the counter and restock the cups, lids, and all the special sauces kept behind the counter. Outside in the parking lot I can see the lights of waiting cars at the drive through, and people sitting in their cars waiting for the place to open. A few minutes before we open a couple of other workers arrive I haven’t met yet. An older woman, and a teenage boy come in together, and a girl who looks like she might be a college student comes in shortly behind them. They all gather behind the counter and Keith introduces me to them.
“Bill this is Sarah, David and Cathy. I’ll have you work with Cathy at the drive through window this morning. Sarah and David will work the counter.”
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you all,” I say. David stretches out his hand to shake mind, and Sarah and Cathy just nod and smile, and get right to work. Cathy puts on a head set and greets the first car in line, “Welcome to Chick-fil-A, are you ready to order?” She punches the order at the register and then turns to me, and says, “You can put the order in a paper bag and get the beverages ready while I take the customer’s money.”
On a video monitor it shows the order and I grab a sandwich from the bin, put it in a paper bag, and poor a cup of coffee and place a lid on it and hand it all to Cathy. She then hands the order out the window to a man sitting in a car and takes his money and returns his change, and says “Thank you for visiting Chick-fil-A, have a wonderful day.”
Cathy and I repeat this over and over all morning as customers continue to come through the drive thru for several hours in what seems like a continuous flow of monotonous routine. Placing chicken sandwiches into paper bags, pouring cups of coffee and placing a lid on each cup. Each order is pretty much the same with a few variations of biscuit sandwich, hash browns, oatmeal and yogurt, or burrito. After a couple of hours the traffic slows down somewhat and Cathy and I are relieved and allowed to take a short break. We sit at a small table and talk a bit.
“Boy, is it like that every morning?” I ask.
“Weekdays are about five time worse, but Saturdays the rush is more spread out over the entire morning,” she answers as she sips her coffee. “You sure were a great help. How long have you worked here?”
“Thursday was my first day,” I explain, “I’ve only worked two afternoons.”
“You are a fast learner,” she says, “I’ve worked here since they opened in May.”
“Do you go to BSU?” I ask.
“No, I go to Carrington College. I’m going to be a massage therapists,” she says.
“I’ve never heard of that college,” I say.
“It’s a small private school,” she says.
“I’m thinking of going to BSU next year,” I say.
“Are you still in high school?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m a senior at Boise High,” I say.
“Cool. I went to Boise High a couple of years ago,” she says. “What teachers do you have?”
I have Mrs. Baker for English, Mr. Bixby for American Government and Mrs. Jones for Driver’s Training,” I say.
“Mrs. Baker is really tough. I had her for English and barely passed,” she says, “Mr. Bixby is really easy. He makes his multiple-choice questions so everyone can pass his class.”
“We have our first big paper due Monday in English,” I say.
“Already? Didn’t school just start Monday?” she asks.
“Yeah, we already read the entire book To Kill a Mockingbird,” I say.
“I remember having to do that too,” she says. “I loved that book!”
Out of the corner of my eye I see Danny Boyle come in the door. He walks back and greets Keith, “Good morning!”
Keith looks at him and says, “Weren’t you supposed to be here at six?”
“No, you said ten,” Danny tells him. “I think it was ten to four or something like that.”
“Okay, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt this time,” Keith says. “I’ll give you a written schedule later today for next week, and you better not be one minute late or that will be the end.”
“Okay, no problem,” Danny says.
“After we get you a uniform, I’ll start you working in the kitchen. You can learn how to make a Chick-fil-A sandwich,” Keith says.
“Cool,” Danny says, as he follows Keith to the back.
Cathy and I finish our break. She returns to work the drive thru, while I clean up the dining area and assist customers refreshing their beverages, and wiping down the tables. It isn’t too long before it’s time to go home and another group of workers have arrived to take our place. I see Karl come in and say “Hi” and he quickly gets to work. Cathy sits down and has another cup of coffee, while I order a sandwich for an early lunch. I sit down next to her and we talk a little bit more.
“I’m glad that’s over with,” I say, ”now I have the rest of the weekend to finish the paper for English.”
“Is that all you’re going to do all weekend?” she asks.
“That's all I have planned today,” I say, “Tomorrow I’ll go to church and then I’ll help my dad move.”
“What kind of stuff do you do for fun?” she asks.
“I like going to movies or reading,” I say.
“You seem like a typical nerd,” she says.
“Yeah, I like nerdy kind of stuff,” I say, “I guess that’s just the way God made me.”
“Why don’t you and me go see a movie tonight,” she suggests. “I have some homework to do too, but we can go to an early movie, say about five or so. Is there anything you want to see?”
“I’ve been dying to see the Lincoln movie,” I say. “I’ve heard Daniel Day Lewis is excellent playing Lincoln?”
“I’ve heard it’s kind of boring,” she says. “Have you seen Zero Dark Thirty?”
“No, I haven’t seen that one yet,” I say.
“Well, then we'll go see that one,” she says. “I can even pick you up unless you want to just meet me at the theater.”
“I don’t drive yet, and I’m not sure w
hich theater it’s playing at,” I tell her.
“Write down your address and phone number and I’ll come by and pick you up,” she says.
I find a piece of paper and a pen and write down my phone number and address, and hand it to her. “I’ll see you later then,” she says.
“Okay, see you later,” I say. She walks out the door and I watch her get into an older Toyota sedan and drive off. I think to myself, that was weird, being asked out by a girl. These Idaho girls must be pretty forward or something. I’ve never had that happen to me before. Maybe I’m just getting lucky or something. I walk back home with an extra good feeling, but I’m feeling just a little bit tired from having to get up so early this morning.
I think about Kelly and not being able to go to her church dance. I remember I was going to call her and tell her about the English paper due Monday. I find her number in my contact book and call her. After a few rings she answers, "Hello".
"Hi Kelly, this is Bill McDougal", I say.
"What's going on?" she asks.
"I didn't see you at school Friday. I was just calling to let you know I won't be able to make it to your dance tonight, and wanted to tell you about the English paper we have due Monday," I say.
"Oh, I forgot all about that," she says. "My grandmother fell down and broke her hip and she's in the hospital. We all drove down to Salt Lake Friday and won't be back until late Sunday."
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear about your grandmother. I hope she is doing better," I say, not knowing what else to say.
"Did you say something about an English paper we have due Monday?" she questions.
"Yeah, we have to write a ten page paper on the book To Kill a Mockingbird," I explain. "It's due first thing Monday. Mrs. Baker won't accept any excuses for later papers."
"Well, I guess I can work on it here at my grandmother's house and have it ready Monday," she says.
"Well, I wish I could help you out, but I still need to work on mine too," I tell her. "That's why I can't make it to your dance tonight," I lie.
"We have dances just about every month, so you can come to one later," she suggests.
"I'd like that," I tell her, "but for now I think I need to get working on the English paper. Have a nice weekend. I'll see you Monday at school."
"Okay, thanks for calling. I'll talk to you later. Bye," Kelly says before ending the call.
After talking to Kelly I decide to take a short nap and then work on the English paper some more after I feel a lot more awake. After a short time I awake feeling refreshed and ready to finish the paper for English. The day before I got a pretty good start on it so I jump right in where I left off and in no time I have a little over ten pages written. Returning to the beginning of the paper I reread what I wrote the day before, making a correction here and there, and rewrite or add to parts to make it clearer. When I look at the clock on the PC it tells me the time is 4:43, and I start to wonder when Cathy will be by to pick me up. As I finish reading through the paper my iPhone rings and the caller ID shows a local number. I answer it, “Hello.”
“Hi Bill, this is Cathy,” the voice on the iPhone says.
“Oh, hi, how are you doing?” I reply.
“Great, I’m outside your building but can’t find a place to park. Are you ready to go?” she says.
“Sure, I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell her and end the call.
All I need to do is put on some shoes and I’m ready to go. After getting my shoes on I check myself in the mirror and brush my hair and run out the door. Cathy is waiting for me in front of my building. She smiles when she sees me walking toward her and I open the passenger side door and climb inside. Her car, although on the outside it looks about 20 years old, the inside looks like it's brand new.
“Nice car,” I tell her.
“It used to be my grandmother’s,” she says, “She hardly drove it. I got it after she passed away.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother’s passing,” I say.
“Oh, don’t be sorry. She was old and it happened a couple of years ago so I’m over it now. The movie starts in about a half hour or so,” she says as she starts the engine and drives out on the street heading toward downtown. She drives beyond downtown and turns on the highway going west the locals call ‘the connector’. She plays country western music on her car radio. I can hear the song ending and it goes into a commercial for a local tire shop.
“So I take it you like country music,” I say.
“What makes you think that?” she asks.
“You have your radio tuned to a country station, don’t you?” I reply.
“You are very perceptive,” she says. “I like that in a guy.”
“I prefer rock and roll myself,” I tell her, “Classic rock like the Beatles, the Stones, and Led Zeppelin.”
“I like that stuff too, but I also like a little country too,” she says. “I like just about everything but classical and opera.”
“I’ve never really listened to country music before,” I say, “I pretty much listen to whatever my dad has playing on the radio.”
“Don’t you want to expand your horizons and see what else the world has to offer?” she questions.
“Yeah, I guess that's just part of life and growing up,” I explain, “I think everyone eventually will grow beyond their parents and develop their own likes in music.”
“I was talking more than just music,” she says. “It seems to me you are living your life under your dad’s wing and haven’t ventured too far out from the nest.”
“Wow, you sure seem to have me figured out after just talking with me a few minutes,” I say. “Talk about being perceptive!”
“I’ve dated nerdy guys before and know all about them,” she says.
“So you’re saying you think all nerdy guys are the same?” I ask.
“Well yeah,” she says, “In my experience once you know one nerdy guy I think basically they are all the same. They might have some small differences, but fundamentally all guys are basically the same.”
“Well, I’m a pretty unique dude,” I say.
“What makes you so unique?” she says.
“Um – a lot of things.” I say, “I just can’t think of any one thing specifically.”
“I can think of one thing that makes you unique,” she says, “You are very naïve.”
“Well, in some ways I guess I’m a little naïve, but I don’t think that makes me unique,” I say.
“I bet you’re still a virgin,” she says.
“Yeah, but that isn’t so unique, I’m only 17,” I say.
“Most high school seniors have experienced intercourse,” she says in a matter of fact way. “I lost my virginity when I was 14.”
“Isn’t that kind of young?” I ask.
“It wasn’t for me, I guess,” she says, “I was just a little more mature than most kids my age.”
“Well, I’m saving it for marriage,” I say, “Call me old fashion, but I think it's a special gift from God to be shared on the honeymoon.”
“Boy, you are naïve. Most guys can’t wait to experience sex,” she says.
“At least the boy I lost my virginity to was that way,” she says. “He was a little bit older. He was a neighbor kid I knew growing up.”
“How did it happen?” I ask.
“Do you want all the dirty details?” she asks.
“Whatever you want to tell me,” I say.
“Well one day when my mom was away at work we were just hanging out watching TV at my place, you know just sitting on the couch together. I could see he was getting a little aroused from the lump under his pants. I had never been with a boy before and I was a little curious about it, so I touched it. After that it was like I flipped a switch or something. Before I knew what happened, he was on top of me with my pants off and was inside me,” she explains.
“It sounds more like you were rap
ed,” I say. “The guy took advantage of you.”
“It wasn’t like I didn’t want it,” she says, “I knew what I was doing when I touched him.”
“So, how did it make you feel afterwards,” I ask.
“It was a little painful, and I was bleeding a little bit, but it was nothing to get all excited about,” she says. “In a way I was glad to get it over with and not have to wonder what the big deal about sex is all about.”
“Wow, I never knew it was like that,” I say. “Maybe it’s different for guys.”
“I think it must be since after that first time the guy kept coming around wanting to do it again,” she says. “I told him I didn’t like it and to leave me alone. A few weeks later the guy moved away.”
“Was it his first time too?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. He didn’t say, but he seemed to know what he was doing,” she says.
“So I guess now you don’t think sex is so special,” I say.
“Yeah, it really is no big deal,” she says. “I can take it or leave it.”
“I guess I’m still thinking it will be something spectacular, like fireworks going off and everything,” I say.
“Yeah, I guess you are naïve,” she says, “But that’s what I like about nerdy guys.”
“So, you think nerdy guys are safe and don’t want to have sex with you?” I ask.
“Well, it’s not that they don’t want to have sex, they just aren’t socially equipped to know how to go about it,” she explains. “I feel a lot better being around a nerdy guy who isn’t trying to get in my pants than some jock boy with one thing on his mind.”
“Yeah, I guess a lot of guys are just after one thing,” I say, “I guess that's one thing that makes me unique.”
“You aren’t Mormon, are you?” she asks.
“No, I’m a Christian,” I tell her, “I’m going to be baptized tomorrow.”
“What church do you go to?” she asks.
“I’ve only been in Boise for about a week but I attended the youth group at the Pursuit Wednesday night,” I tell her.
“I’ve seen a lot of cars around town with The Pursuit stickers on them, but never really knew what it meant,” she says.
“Do you go to church anywhere?” I ask.
“I used to be a Mormon, but I don’t go to church anymore,” she says.
“What’s it like to be a Mormon?” I ask.
“I’m not really sure how to explain it, but it's kind of something I was born into and it seems kind of weird now, but it was almost like being in a big family with a bunch of different cousins and aunts and uncles and they were all really concerned about following the rules,” she says. “My parents mainly tried to follow the rules, but when they got divorced they left the church. I think actually they weren't allowed in church after they got divorced.”
“My parents got divorced this past year and my dad just got married Thursday,” I say. “I really don’t know what the big deal was that made him get married so soon after getting divorced, but maybe some people just like being married.”
“I haven’t figured that one out either,” she says as she drives into the parking lot of the theater and pulls into a parking spot. “We have about ten minutes before the movie starts,” she says. We walk to the ticket booth and I buy two tickets and once we get inside she says, “I have to use the little girl’s room.” She walks into the ladies room and I wait outside for her. The theater is a large building with 22 theaters. From the outside the theater doesn’t look too fancy, but inside it's decorated with high ceilings, and fancy chandeliers. In the center of the lobby is a huge snack bar selling soda, popcorn and candy. After a few minutes she comes back out. I ask her if she wants some popcorn or anything, but she suggests we have dinner somewhere after the movie. I agree that sounds like a good idea. We find the right theater and find seats in the back.
“This is a really nice place,” I comment, “I’d like to work at a place like this some day.”
“It would be better than working at Chick-fil-A,” she says. “After I finish massage school I’d like to open my own massage business.”
“That sounds like a nice goal,” I say. “I think I’d like to be a lawyer.”
“I can see you doing that,” she says. “You seem to be the lawyer type.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You know, real studious and serious, she says.
“What made you want to get into massage therapy?” I ask.
“I like helping people and making them feel better,” she says. “Have you ever had a massage before?”
“No, I never had,” I tell her, “I never really thought about it before.”
“Well, one of these days you’ll have to let me give you one,” she offers.
“That might be nice,” I say, “I’m really kind of shy about my body though.”
“Well it’s not like you're naked or anything,” she explains. “We are trained to cover the entire body with sheets, and only expose the part of the body we massage. Besides, you have a nice looking body, why be shy about it?”
The theater gets dark and the previews of coming attractions are shown and then finally the movie starts. It's a pretty intense movie in spots. Cathy holds my hand during parts of it, and in other parts she wipes the tears from her eyes. In one scene she places her hand on my leg and briefly squeezes my thigh. As she runs her hand up my leg she brushes against my erection, sending a shiver up my spine. I’m feeling a little confused by this since I’ve never had a girl do this to me before, and the feelings I experience are ones I have never felt before. Soon the movie ends and the lights come on and we stroll silently out of the theater.
“Boy, that was one intense movie,” I comment.
“Yeah, it had me on the edge of my seat,” she says.
“Where would you like to get something to eat?” I ask.
“Do you like Italian food?” she asks.
“I love it,” I tell her.
“Olive Garden is pretty close by, why don’t we go there?” she says.
“That sounds good to me,” I tell her as we walk across the parking lot to her car.
We are both silent while she drives to the Olive Garden and I’m thinking about not mentioning what happened during the movie while I watch all the buildings and cars pass as we drive down the road.
“You sure are quiet all of a sudden,” she says, “Is there anything bothering you?
“No, not really,” I lie. “I was just thinking about the movie.”
“Did it bother you that I felt your erection?” she asks.
“A little bit,” I confess, “No one has ever done that to me before.”
“I can’t believe you have never even had a hand job before,” she says.
“I guess I was a little sheltered growing up,” I tell her.
“Well, I’m sorry if it bothered you. I just find that part of going out with a guy on a date,” she explains.
“I never really dated much before,” I tell her.
“I kind of figured that out already. You really need to experience life a little more,” she tells me.
“I’ve had girl friends before, but not serious like that,” I tell her.
“I guess it depends on how you were raised,” she says. “After I had sex the first time I kind of knew what guys wanted and what turned them on. Even though I knew it was wrong, I still felt like I had to do it just to make the guy like me.”
“Don’t you know guys were just using you?” I ask.
“I do now, but back then I kind of liked the attention it gave me,” she explains. “I was always the girl getting asked out and hardly ever spent a weekend night at home.”
“I was always afraid of girls like you,” I tell her. “I guess I still am kind of afraid.”
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?” she asks. “You might lose your virginity or fall in love.”
“Or get my heart broken,” I say. “My mom kind of did that to my dad when she had an affair.”
We arrive at the Olive Garden and find a place to park. We go into the restaurant and find a small crowd waiting in the lobby and outside the front door. I approach the hostess and tell her we’d like a table for two. She tells me a table should be available in about five minutes. We stand off to the side until my name is called and we are escorted to a table. The waiter comes and takes our drink order, and we silently read the menu.
“Do you know what you want?” I ask.
“I can’t decide between the seafood alfredo or the lasagna,” she says.
“I think I’m going to have the lasagna,” I tell her.
“Why don’t we share an order?” she offers. “I’m really not that hungry.”
“I don’t know. Do you think they'll let us do that?” I ask.
“I’m sure they will. All we have to do is ask?” she says.
When the waiter returns with our drinks and asks if we're ready to order I tell him we would like one lasagna and have it on two plates. The guy gives me a funny look and I explain we aren’t really hungry enough to both eat the entire lasagna. He smiles and says he thinks he can do that for us. I thank him, and he says no problem. A few minutes later he returns with salad and bread sticks. We both sit silently as we eat.
“You mentioned earlier your dad just got married?” she asks.
“Yeah, after knowing the woman for just a day,” I tell her, “How weird is that?”
“That seems pretty unusual,” she says, “but love does strange things to people.”
“Have you ever been in love before?” I ask.
“Not really. I thought it was love, but it was just lust. After I gave the guy what he wanted he dropped me like a hot rock,” she says. “What about you?”
“No, I don’t think I have.” I say, “I thought I loved my mom, but after she cheated on my dad I don’t have any feelings for her anymore.”
“You always have to love your mom and dad, no matter what they do,” she tells me. “It is just part of life. In return they have to love you no matter what. That’s why it’s called unconditional love.”
“Who made that rule?” I ask.
“I think it was God,” she says. “It’s in the Bible somewhere, if I’m not mistaken.”
“I don’t know that much about the Bible yet, but I’d like to learn more. That’s one reason why I want to go to church tomorrow,” I tell her.
“Since God loves us unconditionally he expects us to love one another unconditionally, not just our parents, but everyone,” she explains.
“That’s a pretty hard thing to do,” I tell her.
“It is without God,” she explains. “With God anything is possible.”
“How did you get so religious all of a sudden?” I ask.
“I was raised a Mormon. Just because I don’t go to church anymore, and have some problems with religion doesn’t mean I don’t believe in God,” she explains.
“Growing up I never went to church and my family never talked about God or religion much,” I explain, “But after moving to Boise both my dad and I have a desire to know God for some reason. It’s strange.”
“I don’t know what it is about Boise,” she says, “It might be the Mormon influence here, but I know God is working to change people’s lives.”
“I know He has made a big difference in me this past week,” I say. “I can’t wait until tomorrow morning.”
“Maybe I’ll come to church with you tomorrow and see you get baptized,” she offers. “I’d like to check out the Pursuit too.”
“Me too. I’ve never really been to a Sunday service there yet,” I say.
“What time is the service?” she asks.
“We are going to the one at 9:30,” I say. “At least that is what my dad was planning Wednesday night. So much has changed since then with him getting married and all. I don’t even know if he’s back from Jackpot yet.”
“Why don’t I come and pick you up and we can go together,” she offers.
“Okay, that sounds great,” I say.
The waiter comes with the lasagna on two plates and we sit silently as we eat our dinner. With the salad and the bread sticks I’m feeling pretty full after finishing the lasagna. When the waiter returns and asks if we would like desert, I’m thinking no, but then Cathy suggests we split a Tiramisu and I agree. After a few minutes the waiter is back with the Tiramisu and the bill. Cathy slowly takes her fork and cuts a piece of the Tiramisu and slowly savors it before exclaiming how good it taste.
“This was nice,” I say, “I’m glad you suggested the Tiramisu.”
“This whole evening has been wonderful. I’m so glad I got to know you better,” she says.
“I’m glad I got to know you better too. I kind of hate to end our date,” I say.
“The evening is still young. Do you want to do something else?” she asks.
“No, I think I really should get home and get some sleep. This has been a long day for me,” I say.
“Yeah, me too. Getting up to be at work by 6 is a real killer,” she says.
I pay the bill and leave a tip, and we walk out to the parking lot holding hands. We get in the car and Cathy starts driving. She gets on the highway heading downtown and we sit silently listening to the country western music on the radio.
“I really like this song,” she says. “It’s about a guy who cheated on his girl and wants to get back with her.”
“Maybe that’s why I don’t’ like country western music,” I say, “I can’t understand what the songs are about.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. The first time I heard this song I didn’t understand it either, she says. “It took a few times before I figured it out.”
“Isn’t that the way it is with a lot of things in life?” I ask. “Sometimes I read something and have no idea what it means. Like To Kill a Mockingbird,” I say. “Then the next day in class Mrs. Baker explains it all and it all makes sense.”
“Even though she was a really tough teacher I really liked her class and learning all about those different books she made us read,” she says.
“We start The Great Gatsby Monday,” I say.
“You know I think Leonardo DiCaprio is starring in a movie based on that book,” she says.
“I’ve never read the book before. Do you know what it’s about?” I ask.
“We read it in English too. I think I remember it was about some rich guys back in ancient times,” she says.
“It should be interesting,” I say. “What are you learning in massage school?” I ask.
“Right now we are learning different massage strokes and techniques,” she explains, “Each muscle group and body part requires a different stroke and technique we use to release the toxins from the muscles.”
“I didn’t realize there was that much to massage, I say, “I thought it was all about rubbing oil on people’s backs.”
“That’s part of it, but there’s a whole lot more to it. Getting certified requires a certain number of classroom hours combined with hands on training, she explains. Without being certified technically a person isn’t allowed to give a massage since potentially it could cause a lot of injury to a person.”
“I didn’t know that,” I say. We are getting close to my place and I ask her about tomorrow, “What time will you pick me up tomorrow?”
“That depends,” she says. “Did you want to have breakfast first, and then go to church?”
“We can do that,” I say. “How about 7:30? Is that too early for you?”
“It’s not too early for me,” she says. “I’ll be waiting for you in front of your building.”
She pulls up and stops in front of the building, and before I get out I reach across and give her a kiss. It’s just a peck on the lips, but then she opens her mouth and it turns into
an extended exchange of tongues. I break away and tell her, “See you tomorrow,” and jump out of the car. She says, “I’ll see you,” and then drives away. I’m feeling pretty good as I walk up the steps to the apartment. I unlock the door and find the apartment dark and empty. I turn on the lights and discover no one has been there since I left earlier in the evening. I’m thinking Karl probably went back to his place and my dad and Carol must still be in Jackpot. I go to bed and fall into a deep sleep.
I hear the sound of my iPhone ringing waking me up. Before I answer it I check to see who it is, but the phone only displays the number. “Hello,” I say into the iPhone.
“Hi Bill, this is Cathy. I hope I didn’t wake you,” the voice comes over the phone. “What time is it?” I ask.
“It’s a little after ten,” she says.
“I think I must have just fallen asleep,” I say.
“I was wondering if I could stay with you tonight,” she says, “I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“Is anything wrong?” I ask.
“I’m right outside your building. Is it okay if I come up?” she asks.
“Sure, I’ll meet you downstairs,” I say.
I get up from bed wiping the sleep from my eyes, and walk over to turn on the light. My pants are lying on the chair, I grab them and slip them on and go out the door and down the stairs without a shirt or shoes on. Cathy is standing outside the locked door and it looks like she’s been crying. As I open the door she grabs me in a hug, and holds me tight.
“What’s the matter?” I ask.
“I was just feeling really lonely tonight after I dropped you off. I think I’m falling in love with you,” she says.
“How can that be?” I think but the thought comes out of my mouth.
“You are just the nicest guy I’ve ever met,” she says, “I don’t think I’ve ever been treated so nice on a date before.”
“Let’s go inside,” I suggest.
We go inside, take the elevator up and go in the apartment. The lights are all off except for the bedroom. I turn on the kitchen light and pull out a chair from the kitchen table and Cathy sits down. I sit in the chair beside her.
“I’m so sorry I woke you,” she says. “I didn’t think you’d be asleep so early.”
“It’s been a pretty long day,” I say, “I got up at 4:30 this morning and only had a short nap.”
“I was just feeling so bad after I dropped you off,” she says. “I drove around a little bit but couldn’t go home.”
“Why were you feeling so bad?” I ask.
“Well, I didn’t know if I might have scared you away by being so forward and all, and I didn’t want to lose you as a friend,” she says.
“To tell you the truth you did scare me a little bit, but I got to thinking about things a little bit and figure it’s about time I ventured out and experienced life a little bit,” I say. “I was really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow morning and having breakfast with you before church. Do you still want to do that?”
“Yeah,” she says, “We can still do that, and I want to see you get baptized too. I’ve even been thinking about getting baptized too.”
“That would be fantastic,” I say. “In that case I think we better get some sleep.”
“Is it okay if I stay here with you tonight?” she asks.
“Sure, you can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep in my dad’s room,” I say.
“Okay,” she says, “I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”
I get up and show Cathy to my room, and close the door. Then I go to my dad’s room and climb into his bed, and drift off to sleep thinking about what might happen tomorrow.
When I wake up I go into the bathroom and turn the water on at the sink and once it's warm I splash it on my face and begin to apply shaving cream. As I begin to shave, concentrating in the mirror, I notice out of the corner of my eye the bathroom door slowly creep open. Suddenly I turn to face Cathy standing in the door wearing only her bra and panties. I’m standing in front of the sink with my face half shaven wearing only my under pants.
“Good morning, Cathy,” I say, “I kind of over slept, we better hurry if we want to have breakfast before church.”
“I wonder if we have time to take a shower,” she says, stepping into the bathroom and unfastening her bra. Her bra drops to the floor and I stare at the most perfect set of breasts I have ever seen. Actually, they are the first breasts I have ever seen in real life, other than in the pages of Playboy, which don’t count, I have never really seen a girl naked before.
“I think we better hurry,” I say, not paying attention to the growing discomfort in my under pants.
She steps into the shower, closes the shower curtains and turns the water on. I continue to shave trying not to think of the beautiful, naked girl taking a shower less than a foot away from me.
“Aren’t you going to join me?” she says over the sound of the running water. “I’m almost finished shaving,” I say.
“Oh, come on. I won’t bite,” she says.
I finish shaving, slip off my under pants and pull the shower curtain back and step into the shower. Cathy has her back to me with her face under the streaming water. Slowly I approach her and place my hand on her shoulder. She turns to face me, but she keeps her eyes closed. Our lips come together in a passionate kiss. I feel her hand run down the front of my body as she takes my erection in her hand and gently holds it.