Which only means

  Together is where we belong

  Then there was the ring of my phone, a note in the mailbox, and all was right in the world yet again.

  We were both working at making our relationship better. For the time being, the fighting had calmed down. We were handholding and making out all the time, yet we still had a shyness between us. A conversation about taking our relationship to the next level and making love would lead to a set of questions that would change everything for me and a plan would be set into motion.

  Question 1 – Did you honestly ever do it?

  No.

  Question 2 – Are you sure you get a ‘you know what’?

  Yes.

  Question 3 – Are you serious?

  Yes.

  Question 4 – Do you love me enough?

  Yes.

  Question 5 – Are we going to keep breaking up and having stupid fights?

  Hopefully not.

  Question 6 – Do you want me to try and get on the pill?

  If you want.

  Question 7 – What if somehow I got pregnant, which I absolutely better not.

  You won’t.

  This was not a spur of the moment decision, but something that was discussed for weeks and planned out completely. The night was set for a Saturday when my parents would be out.

  The day arrived and that night, our plan would be carried out. The monsters living in my stomach were in full force. It was hard to look into my parents’ eyes, knowing what I was going to do. Not long after they were out of the house, I would become a woman and be a different person. I believed this with every ounce of my soul. As soon as they closed the door, I rang his phone once—the signal that they were gone and it was time to come over. Even though it took only seconds for him to walk to my house, it seemed like forever. He walked into my living room and our eyes met. It was time; that night we were taking our love to the next step. It was so hard to look at him knowing what we were going to do.

  “When do you want to go upstairs?” His voice was a whisper I could barely hear.

  My heart stopped dead, so many thoughts running around in my brain. I felt so scared. “Did you bring it with you?” I quickly asked. If he didn’t, then I was off the hook.

  “Yes,” he mumbled.

  “Why don’t we watch a movie first?” Clearly, I was stalling.

  “Okay,” he said, in a voice that sounded relieved.

  I didn’t watch the movie. Well, my eyes stared at the television but my mind was not with me. It was thinking of what was going to happen when the movie was over.

  The movie ended too soon and it was time. I didn’t want to wait too long and risk my parents coming home.

  My hands were all sweaty. Maybe it was my outfit choice—a sweat suit, which was bright yellow. I probably glowed in the dark, which would not have been good. My heart began to race. I knew it was now or never, at least if we were to do it tonight.

  He reached out to me.

  I took his hand and we went up the stairs. We kept the lights off. It was easier to not have to look at each other in the face. I knew mine must have looked like my sweaty palms had met with a light socket.

  We sat on the edge of my bed and time stood still. We finally started making out with a faster pace than we had before. Maybe if we sped up, this would be over and I would soon be safely back in my living room.

  I put my mind outside my body and didn’t let myself think about what was happening. I closed my eyes really tight and when I opened them, we were sitting once again on the edge of my bed and it was over. Was I dreaming? That was what everyone talked about? I was a woman now? I didn’t feel different. It was so quick. Is that the way it always is?

  I couldn’t see his face. Was he happy? Did I do what I was supposed to?

  “I’ll meet you downstairs.” His words broke into my thoughts.

  “Okay, I’ll be right down,” I responded. Was my voice still the same now that I was a woman?

  I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I didn’t look different. Shouldn’t I? It was so intimate. I should have felt happy about sharing my body and soul with him, yet I was embarrassed. Maybe I did something wrong or didn’t meet his expectations. I was surprised that it didn’t hurt like I thought it was going to. Part of me wanted to just stay in the bathroom, but I didn’t want to take too long. He would wonder what I was doing. I finally mustered up some courage and made my way back downstairs.

  When I walked into the living room, our eyes didn’t make contact. There was an awkwardness between us now. I didn’t think doing it was what he envisioned either. Maybe he thought we weren’t meant to be together.

  I hurriedly put the television back on. “Butterflies are Free is coming on,” I said. “Let’s watch that.” I didn’t even care what was on the screen as long as something broke the silence.

  I didn’t foresee us planning another encounter anytime soon and relief took over. I didn’t want to disappoint him again. I believed I was the reason it wasn’t the magical encounter it was supposed to have been. This was supposed to be a night I would remember the rest of my life. I definitely would, but not in the way, it should have been remembered. The rest of the evening was spent watching television and avoiding eye contact.

  I walked him to the door when it was time for him to leave. I wasn’t sure if we would even speak.

  He took me in his arms and hugged me. Our eyes finally met.

  “I love you, always and forever,” he whispered as our eyes locked.

  “I love you, too, forever and always,” I said right back.

  “There you go again, always and forever.” He laughed as he walked out the door and faded into the night.

  I felt so glad he said that to me when he left. After our less than perfect night, I wasn’t sure he still felt the same way about me.

  We didn’t talk about that night for a very long time. We shared another first with each other that night, yet it wasn’t exactly the dreamy night we both thought it was going to be. It also didn’t change how our relationship path would go. We didn’t fight any less than before and as much as we seemed to want to be together, fate always had something else in store.

  I loved that my mother loved him like a son. I worried about whether his being over every day would upset my parents, but they seemed to be fine with it. One day, he added chocolate pudding to my mother’s shopping list. She laughed about it to me, but went and bought it for him. To my mother, who always wished that I wasn’t an only child, this was the son she dreamed of having.

  Time moved swiftly and before I know it, it was spring.

  My dad took the day off work one day and said he was going to paint the garage. Danny and I said we would help him. The look on his face told me that he wasn’t all that happy with our offer. I wondered why. I guessed he was still thinking about the lawn mowing incident.

  “You two can paint the back of the garage,” my dad instructed in a voice that meant, ‘no way do I trust you two with anything that can be seen.’ He handed us two paintbrushes and a can of gray paint.

  “Okay,” I said to him. I got to spend the day with Danny and I thought painting would be fun. I went upstairs and put on an old Mickey Mouse t-shirt in case any paint got on me. I didn’t want to be wearing a shirt that I cared about.

  I was happy we were doing the back of the garage. That way, my dad couldn’t see us and watch over everything we did. My dad was very critical, so I wanted it to be perfect, or as perfect as we could make it. Danny and I started off really well. We were both being really careful and neat. That was until a giant plop of paint fell onto the ground, which caused us to laugh. It was just the funniest thing to us. A bad case of those giggles that you can’t stop took us over. He took the paintbrush and ran it down the back of my shirt.

  “Now, you are going to get it,” I threatened, my laughter uncontrollable. I peeked around the back of the garage. I didn’t see my dad in sight for the moment. I took my
brush and painted his shirt. Now it was war. He painted me and I painted him. In a matter of minutes, we were both covered in paint.

  My stomach was killing me from laughing. Tears were running down my face. In my mind, I was thinking ‘my dad is going to kill us.’

  “How are you two doing back there?” my dad’s voice broke our laughter for a second.

  “Umm, we’re good, Dad,” I replied as laughter still had control of me and I couldn’t stop. I knew I needed to stop laughing but I just couldn’t. A plop of paint fell from my head and it started all over again.

  “Are you two kidding me?” my father said as he rounded the garage and Danny and I came into view. His voice showed that he clearly was not happy, but he also had to smile at the sight of us. “Drop the brushes, get the hose, and spray some of that off!”

  I stared at his face, hoping for a smile. I didn’t see any signs of him thinking it was funny. I grabbed the hose and started to spray off the paint. When I finished, I was completely soaked and still covered in paint, Danny took the hose and did the same. The laughter began again. I was trying to think of something, anything to keep from laughing.

  “Get out of here now, so I can clean this up!” My dad’s voice boomed over the laughter that was again, out of control.

  I was bent over from pain. I couldn’t see anymore with the tears pouring and my eyes burning.

  My mother went to the door to see what was going on. A smile spread across her face. She disappeared for a moment, and reappeared with towels in her hands. She opened the door and handed the towels to us.

  We grabbed them and ran up my driveway to the front of my house—as far away from my dad’s anger as we could get. We sat on my stoop and the laughter took over again.

  “I bet my dad thinks we’re drunk or something,” I said in a breathless voice.

  “I’m going to go home and change,” Danny managed to get out. “I think you should come to my house when you’re changed. I don’t think we should hang out here for a while.”

  That night, my dad didn’t say a word about our fiasco, which was a good thing.

  I vowed I would never ask to paint again. Danny didn’t want to come over, unless my dad wasn’t home for a couple days following that incident.

  When my dad and Danny did come face to face again, the garage incident wasn’t mentioned.

  We liked to go to the movies a lot, and even though Leslie and David didn’t hit it off, they had become good friends and went out with Danny and me on the weekends. We went to the movies, or bowling. I was really happy that they were able to find a way to get along.

  Then hanging out and fooling around at Danny’s house turned disastrous one night. His brother was smoking in the house. Somehow, a lit ash fell onto a pillow. All of a sudden, we all smelled something burning.

  “Do something with it!” Danny yelled.

  “I think it’s finally out,” his brother replied.

  “I think mom and dad are going to notice the burn mark, better throw the pillow out. Bury it in the pail outside.”

  “Maybe they won’t notice,” his brother responded in a frenzied voice.

  I’m not sure who came up with the idea. I knew my parents would instantly notice a pillow missing from our couch. I couldn’t imagine how his parents wouldn’t notice. Perhaps that was because I was an only child. Maybe if I had four brothers and sisters, my parents wouldn’t notice things as much.

  It wasn’t long after these words were spoken that we heard a car pull up.

  “Just act natural,” everyone said.

  A very loud and very angry voice shortly followed. “Get out here! The garbage pail is on fire!” His dad’s enraged voice filled the air.

  We all ran in different directions away from the fire and Danny’s dad.

  A quick glance at the side of the house revealed flames like I’d never seen before. They were really high, coming out of the garbage pail. By now, all the contents of the pail were also on fire.

  “I think I better get home,” I softly whispered to Danny. “Good luck!” I didn’t want to be in the path of whatever was heading their way. It would be days before we could all hang out again.

  The school year ended and summer was upon us. We were anxious to be able to hang out and not have to worry about school for a couple of months. One would think our carelessness in the past would keep us on our toes, but we were teenagers. It was summer after all, and all we were thinking about was having fun.

  Earlier in the week, Danny’s mom had gone out and purchased some really nice lawn chairs. She, too, was looking forward to the summertime weather. But one night of truth or dare, a large group of teenagers and her beautiful new lawn chairs met their fate behind the famous dead-end wall.” The chairs were never to be seen again. It happened initially and purely by accident. A whole bunch of people sat on them, causing one to collapse. It shouldn’t have been funny, but it was. Of course, the other had to be tested, to see how many it could hold. Before we knew it, they weren’t looking like chairs anymore, but collapsed messes. So, they needed to be hidden.

  Later on, Danny’s mom questioned us all about them, and couldn’t understand how they all could just disappear. Not one of us ever gave up what happened to them.

  One day, we went to a place called Nunley’s. It was a small amusement park with carousel horses, a rollercoaster, games, and miniature golf. We found a machine where you could make your own good luck charms. Danny and I made up charms with our names and our special date, 7/7/77, on them. I thought about how nice it would be when Danny got his license and we could go there by ourselves.

  On Sundays, we went to Racket and Rink with Danny’s family. He was on an ice hockey team and they were practicing for the new season. I loved going and watching him play. We would all pile into his mom’s station wagon. I was so happy that they let me go also. Danny’s mom would quickly turn on WHN, a radio station that played country music. She probably felt that anything was better than listening to a car full of teenagers. My parents also only listened to that station, so I was used to hearing the songs. One Sunday, we were cruising along when the song Mommas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys filled the car. We all started singing along and laughing to it.

  When Danny was playing icy hockey, I knew he was truly happy. He loved to skate and he was really good at it.

  One day, when Danny went to my house for breakfast, I made him my legendary scrambled eggs. That’s what he called them, anyway. I don’t know what made them so good, but he loved them. By accident, ketchup got on the white pants I was wearing. And I had never really used the washing machine. Guess it might have been smart to pay attention to what my mom did. I didn’t want her to see my pants ruined, so Danny and I decided that we could wash them.

  We figured out how to start the machine and put in soap. Moments later, it was working. We went back upstairs and watched television to pass the time.

  “I am going to go check on the pants,” I told him.

  He sat there mesmerized by the television.

  I knew he would probably fall asleep if I was gone too long. My mother would say all the time, “That boy could fall asleep on a picket fence.” He was always falling asleep. One minute he seemed wide awake and the next he was out cold.

  Anyway, I walked down the stairs and as I turned the corner towards the washing machine, I saw bubbles—lots and lots of bubbles. The bubbles were coming out of the top of the machine. “Danny!” I shouted as loud as I possibly could. “Come here quick! Oh my god, what have I done now?”

  “What?” he called out.

  I could hear his footsteps getting closer.

  “Holy shit, what did you do?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I put too much soap,” I responded, thinking what a dumb question that was to ask me now. “Get something, we have to get rid of these bubbles.” I was flipping out by that time.

  He went back upstairs and returned to me with two Dixie cups from the kitchen. “It’s all I coul
d find,” he replied to me as his laughter began.

  We bailed bubbles for at least an hour, with just two little Dixie cups, and laughed so hard our stomachs hurt. I grabbed the mop and cleaned everything up, so there was no trace of our mishap. The rest of the day, every time we looked at each other all we did was laugh. No one ever knew why, but we did.

  Danny and I continued to have great days, and then again, we would break up over something purely stupid. But in a short time we once again, would be back together. No matter how mad we each seemed to get, our fights never did last very long. In many ways, he was the complete gentleman. Whenever we went somewhere, I was never allowed to pay, no matter what I was buying, and my girlfriends were not allowed to pay either.

  School began once again. Summers always went by too fast. I didn’t bring up walking to school, remembering the past. Days all seemed to blend together when we had to worry about school work and grades. The holidays crept up on us fast, too. We’d blink an eye and it was Halloween, then Thanksgiving, and before we knew it, we were putting up the Christmas tree again.

  Danny continued to confuse me. Just when I thought that we were on the right path, something would happen and we would be back to square one. I made excuses for him—he was tired or he had a headache. I always found a reason to explain his behavior. I didn’t want to even think about the possibility that his love for me wasn’t like my love for him.

  Our families gave up trying to figure out if we were together or not. No one could keep up. We were either together and happy or apart and miserable. At the time, these stupid things were mountains in our way. Try as we might to move those mountains, fate would take us a different way, apart.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  1979 – Age 16

  Happiness didn’t last long for me. By the time I was 16, Danny’s moodiness would start a fight that ended in a break up that didn’t end as quickly as the others did. I was now supposed to move on and not care. I didn’t know how I was supposed to forget about him. I didn’t want to. I missed having him with me and having someone to hang out with.