Mom finds the two young lovers in a compromising position. Joan’s father sends her a birthday present. Joan and Sam exchange precious gifts of their own.

Chapter 13

"You can fool some of the people all of the time and all of the people some of the time, but you can’t fool Mom!" Spanky McFarland

How Long Has This Been Going On?

I just knew that this was where I was supposed to be. I felt so safe lying there in his arms, bathed in the after-glow of total ecstasy. My smile was so wide it kept me from falling asleep. I calmed myself down by massaging him gently. The effort required allowed me to relax completely. Sam had drifted off right after our lovemaking was completed. It was far more satisfactory hugging him than any stuffed toy could possibly be. I faded away in a state of bliss.

I was awakened at precisely four-ten in the morning by the light on my desk coupled with my Mother’s voice. "Oh My God!" She exclaimed; she seemed upset. "Just what the hell is going on here?" She asked rhetorically. Unbelievably, Sam had yet to stir. I stumbled out of bed, turned off my light, and drew Mom into the hallway. I actually "shush’d" her as my mind was spinning in a frantic attempt to devise a cover story. "Come with me!" She commanded and walked down into the kitchen. I closed my eyes as I continued walking and tried with all my might to "will" myself away. It didn’t work. "Sit!" She said taking a seat at the table.

"How long has this been going on?" were the first words out of her mouth. "I trusted you!" She screamed as tears began to flow. I found myself drifting into a state of shock. I just wanted to run away. Mom may have been young once herself, but I knew she’d never understand. I took the only option left open to me: I lied.

"How long has what been going on?" I asked innocently. "Mom, don’t you trust me?" I felt horrible throwing her own words back at her that way, but it actually seemed to be working. I could tell she wanted to believe. I continued to feign the injured party. The more I piled it on, the calmer she became. I felt absolutely awful lying to her like that. I saw no alternative. Though she claimed to believe me, she told me to grab a pillow and my sleeping bag; I was to sleep on the floor in the sewing room. It struck me as odd that she hadn’t gotten upset when Darla and Sally made a sandwich out of me the night before. Mothers, who can understand them? I went up to my room and retrieved my stuff. Sam, never budged the entire time; was he faking it?

I slept very little for the remainder of the night. Happy Birthday to me, I thought bitterly as I tossed and turned on the bleeping floor. Ah well, I should have expected it. The rest of the house was doused in silence when I gave up trying to sleep at nine o’clock. I just wanted to go to bed. To lie there next to Sam and fall back to sleep snuggled up against him. I started a pot of coffee and ran upstairs to take a shower.

The hell with everybody. I smiled at myself in the mirror as I removed one of the little blue pills from the blister pack, one of the anti-androgens from the bottle, and washed them down with some tepid water. I sneaked into my room and grabbed a pair of tattered jeans and a beat up tee shirt; my painting clothes. Sam still hadn’t budged. It seemed to me there were two things he excelled at: eating and sleeping. Back in the kitchen I downed a quick bowl of cereal. I didn’t really want it, but the pamphlet enclosure said to take the pills "with food." I had a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Yes, there were also ample warnings on the package insert about smoking while taking estrogen. Some things you just ignore.

I moved all the furniture in the living room to the center and began laying drop cloths everywhere. Minutes later I was using the edging tool to get all the cutting in done. I soaked the new roller in the pan and began painting. If there was a fun part to this job, this was it. An hour later I was already working on the hallways. The ladder made a bit of noise. I didn’t want to wake anyone up, but I wanted to get the job finished. By one o’clock I had all the rough painting done. The only thing left was the trim work and that could wait till sometime during the week.

My two favorite people in the world were finally beginning to stir. Sam got up and hugged me. He seemed to have no idea what had happened last night. If he could sleep through my mother screaming, he could sleep through anything. I sat him down on the bed and explained to him what had happened. He seemed not to care. He shrugged his shoulders at me and hit the shower. Maybe he had the right idea? After all, as I’d told Mom, it never happened.

I was so tired I lay my head on my pillow for just a minute. The next thing I knew Mom was shaking me gently awake. "Are you going to sleep all day?" she asked me. "You did a fabulous job with the painting. Thank you sweetheart." It seemed Sam had returned home some hours earlier while I slept. "Why don’t you wash up and come downstairs?" She suggested gently. A wave of relief washed over me. There’d be no recriminations for having shared my bed with Sam. Not wanting to risk my good luck, I did as Mom requested and took my second shower of the day.

Mom had a fresh pot of coffee brewing and there were a few gifts piled on the kitchen table. She smiled at me as I took a seat. It seems she had baked yet another cake while I’d been sleeping. She served me up an ample piece of my favorite: chocolate, chocolate cake. "What no candles to blow out or wishes to make?" I asked her. She smiled at me and reminded that I’d already done that on Friday. I found myself feeling a bit awkward in her presence. I’d lied to her; a meaningful one, not something innocuous to avoid punishment. Still, telling her the truth might ease my guilt, but would only add to my mother’s already overloaded stress levels.

"What’s this?" I said as I picked up the envelope. It was post marked "New Jersey" with no return address. Mom eyed me worriedly. I could tell she was having doubts about having given me the envelope at all. I opened it carefully. The card was addressed to: "Dear Joan"… on closer inspection I saw that someone (Doreen?) had gone back and changed the "h" to an "a"..

Still, what was in the two tiny boxes blew me away. Two pairs of diamond studs set in yellow gold; one pair smaller than the other. They were exquisite. Mom smiled wanly as she saw the joy I couldn’t hide from my face. Did this mean that my father accepted me? Surely Doreen hadn’t bought them on her own, had she? I wanted to just run up stairs and send her a thank you email. Then, I remembered the other gifts on the table: Mom’s gifts. Once again I was filled with guilt.

I next picked up the long narrow box wrapped in delicate paper and tied with a bow. Before I could open it Mom burst out with "I know it’s not fancy diamond earrings, but…" and sighed. I slowly opened the jewelry box and examined the contents. The eighteen inch gold herringbone chain with my name emblazoned in the center was beyond precious. I leapt up out of my seat and rushed to give Mom a hug. I excitedly handed her the necklace, turned around, pulled my hair out of the way and waited for her to clasp it around my neck. Task completed, I ran into the sewing room and gazed at my own reflection. In perfect script across the top of my chest "Joan" was written for all the world to see. Feelings of complete joy surged through me. . When I finally turned away from the mirror, Mom snapped my photo. "I just love it Mom," I said and thanked her again.

Back in the kitchen there was still one box to open. I lifted it from the table and shook it gently. Mom giggled just a bit. I was so glad she wasn’t upset about the earrings; nothing else mattered. I carefully undid the bow and removed the paper. Mom had her camera at the ready. I lifted the cover off of the box and there inside was the most fantastic green velvet… dress… I’d ever seen. So that’s what Mom had been up to all those nights locked away in the sewing room.

I stripped right there in the kitchen and stepped into the dress. The fit was perfect. Mom came over and pulled up the back zipper. Back to the sewing room I went to see the overall effect. Yes, it was summertime and velvet was not a summer fabric. Still, that dress was symbolic of something far more important. Mom and I had come full circle. The square neck of the dress was low enough so that my necklace showed. This was turning out to be the best birthday ever. Mom and I hugged for a few minutes and I carefully removed my dress and put it on a hangar. "I can’t wait till it’s cold enough to wear it," I enthused.

"Now darling, don’t go wishing your life away," Mom admonished. "Winter will be here soon enough. Since this is your official birthday, what would you like for dinner?" My mind harkened back to the spare ribs of a few weeks ago.

"How do barbecued spare ribs sound to you?" I asked her. She laughed and told me they sounded just fine. "Would you mind if I wore my new earrings?" I just had to ask.

"They’re your earrings Joan. Wear them if you like." I could tell that she didn’t mean it. I didn’t want to ruin the evening for her. I put the studs away in my dresser. I really was going to be needing a jewelry box.

"Famous Dave’s" was a casual rib place that had only been open for a few months in our area. I put on a skort set and my semi-pink sneakers and off we went. Dinner was a blast. I think Mom ate more ribs than I did.

Our conversation was all over the place; dinner tomorrow, Aunt Melissa’s impending arrival, my cousin’s upcoming wedding, Mom’s work, my own, and yes we even talked about fall fashions a bit. I only wished I’d been able to wear my earrings. Still, diamonds are forever, aren’t they? Mom paid the bill and we drove home chatting incessantly along the way. "Thanks for a perfect birthday celebration Mom." I told her solemnly.

From out of nowhere she blurted out: "you know Joan, if you and Sam are going to have sex, you should be using protection. You are doing that, aren’t you?" OK, I was trapped by her questions. I could simply interpret her questions as being facetious, or I could grant her the respect that she was due and answer honestly.

"I’m sorry Mom," I said in my own cryptic fashion. What was I sorry for? For having sex with Sam? For not using protection? Fortunately, unbelievably, she didn’t pursue the matter. My admission had been enough. I realized that she was right however, and would take steps to practice "safe sex" in the future. I only hoped that it wasn’t too late already.

We arrived home and I removed the meat from a few purloined ribs and put them in a clean bowl for Shandy. She gobbled them down so quickly I thought she was going to puke. I attempted to slow her down but she started growling at me. That was a first for her. I guess she really liked those things.

It was early on a Sunday evening and I started making some phone calls; planning the week ahead. I decided to take the same route as last week. One job on Wednesday and two on Friday. I had over three-hundred dollars up in my dresser drawer. I knew I’d have to get it to the bank soon, or I’d spend it on something. I checked my email account. There was a letter from Aunt Melissa reminding me that she would be arriving on Thursday. Mom had yet to be notified of her sister’s early arrival. I had no idea how to broach the subject with her.

I sent a thank you letter to Doreen. I asked her if my father knew about the earrings. After his behavior a few weeks ago, I had to believe that he didn’t. Still, part of me hoped that he’d made the purchase himself and that it had his full stamp of approval. A sudden shudder ran through my body as I recalled the way he’d treated me. It was only the threat of exposure that saved me from a lifetime of agony. I filed those thoughts away for now.

I rang Sam and asked him how his day had been. "My mother’s got me doing all kinds of stuff around the house and it’s all your fault." He said sullenly. It was beginning to seem that whatever "bad" happened in Sam’s life was "all my fault." "If you didn’t do so much around the house," he continued. "she’d never have noticed!" I laughed aloud.

"There’s nothing wrong with helping out around the house," I informed him. "It’ll make you a good husband someday." He joined me in laughter. I was afraid for a moment that he really had been angry. I’m not sure how I’d have handled that. "So, have you decided where we’re going for dinner tomorrow?" I asked him.

"Dinner?" He asked in total innocence.

"Yes Sam,, we’re all going out to dinner tomorrow night to celebrate our birthdays." This was the longest series of birthday celebrations I’d ever had. First the party on Friday, then the special evening with Sam, then dinner with Mom, and now dinner with Sam and Aunt Alice.

"We can go anywhere you like sweetheart," he said generously. There was a special Italian Restaurant, Portofino’s, at the mall. Their food was out of this world. I asked Sam if that was OK with him. He readily agreed. Of course, I had other reasons for wanting to go to the mall, but I didn’t mention them. It seemed I wouldn’t be making a bank deposit this week after all. We talked for awhile longer and finally he said that he couldn’t take it anymore. He hung up on me!

Less than a minute later he came running in the front door. "Joan! I just had to hold you. If only for a minute." He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me for all he was worth. Mom walked in on us after a minute or two.

"Joan, Sam, are you two using protection?" She asked and burst out laughing. Sam was nonplused by her statement. I laughed along with Mom. It seemed the easiest thing to do at the time. We all agreed that we’d head out to the mall tomorrow evening as soon as Mom got home from work.

Monday morning: I was finally going to get to do something besides sanding. YES! I wouldn’t have to wear that stupid mask all day long. Well, not till I had to sand the wood that I’d stained. I was beginning to prefer painting. It was easier and the rewards were far greater. Still, I had to admit, crafting wood was my first love. Mr. Ferris showed me how to properly apply the oil-based stain. It was actually fun staining the finely-sanded pieces. Two-thirty rolled around and I began working on Aunt Vivian’s jewelry box. I spent an hour and a half getting it ready for final assembly. Finally, I put everything away and pedaled home.

I definitely needed more clothes. How many times could I wear my blue-pleated skirt? Maybe we could take a few minutes and check out the clearance racks. I’m sure Sam would love that, I laughed. At least my pores weren’t clogged with sawdust. I made myself as pretty as possible and sat at the kitchen table waiting for Mom to arrive. She didn’t even come inside. She honked her horn and waited for me to come out. I got in the car, and we drove across the street and repeated the procedure.

Sam came out wearing finely-tailored slacks, a dress shirt and tie. Aunt Alice walked a few steps behind shaking her head the whole time. We made the perfect couple. A cacophony of conversations ensued as we made our way to the mall. Since it was a Monday night, Portofino’s would not be too busy. We were seated immediately and everyone began perusing the menus handed out by our server.

"Can I get you ladies something to drink?" Tim, our server, asked.

"Excuse me?" said Sam.

"I’m sorry sir," he replied. I couldn’t stop the chuckle that had caught in my throat. It wasn’t appreciated by anyone. We placed our orders and waited for the food to arrive. For some reason, the entire situation seemed a bit awkward.

"I just love your pumps Joan," said Aunt Alice. "Maybe you could convince Sam to get a pair?" She said and began laughing. The mood was getting ugly.

"He towers over me enough as it is," I said playing along.

"By the way, I’m officially six feet tall now," Sam said not seeming to notice the undercurrent of the conversation. As if it were proof, he removed his wallet from his back pocket and showed us all his official baseball card; Sam Peters, pitcher. Bats right, throws right. Six feet tall, one-hundred-forty-five pounds. Yep, he was as skinny as a rail.

"Sam, you have to get one of those for me!" I begged. He gave me that one and I put it in my purse. I never thought there’d come a time when I’d know anyone whose picture was on a baseball card. We sat there eating our antipasto and waited for our dinners to arrive. I began to wonder if I’d ever have an opportunity to wear my new earrings. OK, so maybe I was a little self-absorbed.

With dinner over Mom asked us what we’d like to do for the rest of the evening. That was a first. I wouldn’t be dragged from store to store looking at female attire. The irony was, I wanted to. I told Mom that Sam and I would meet them at the coffee shop at nine o’clock and we were on our way. "Where are we off to Joan?" he asked as I dragged him into the main mall.

"You’ll see," I said and kept walking purposefully in the direction of Zales’ Jewelers.

"What are we doing here?" He asked.

"Just be quiet and follow my lead," I said as we walked inside. It seems Monday night was a slow night overall. The number of working staff outnumbered the customers by at least two to one.

"Can I help you?" A young lady with a name tag that read "Barbara" asked.

"We’d like to see your wedding rings," I said. Rather than laughing, smirking, or making any derisive comments, the young lady simply ushered us over to the proper display.

"Joan, we can’t afford these." Sam whispered as he eyed the offerings and their prices.

"Would you wear my ring Sam?" I asked him sincerely. He hugged me tight and kissed me by way of reply. We stood there looking over the myriad of choices for a few minutes when Sam asked to see a certain "basket weave" designed ring. He slipped that band of gold on his left ring finger and smiled.

He beamed with joy as he held his hand out to me. I knew this was the right thing to do. "Do you have one in my size?" I asked her. After figuring out just what my size was, Barbara disappeared into the back room. She returned carrying a small jewelry box with the perfect wedding ring inside. "Sam, will you marry me?" I whispered with tears in my eyes.

"Yes," he said solemnly.

"We’ll take these" I told the clerk and removed the ring from my finger.

"Will that be cash or charge?" She asked. I removed the three-hundred dollars from my purse and handed the bills to her. She stood there counting out the funds while Sam fidgeted nervously.

"Is anything wrong Sam?" I asked him.

"Well, it’s just that I don’t have any fancy gift for you," he said sadly.

"Sam, your gift to me is accepting my ring and wearing it always, with pride." He hugged me again as Barbara completed our purchase. We walked out of the store with an air of confidence. Hand in hand we walked down the corridor till we came to the lighted fountains. We took a seat on a bench in the front row and I removed the rings from the bag. "With this ring I thee wed," I said to him as I slid the ring on his finger. He repeated my words to me and placed the delicate bit of gold on my left hand. He held me as if we were never going to see each other again.

"I love you Joan, I’ll always love you.." He said with deepest meaning. This time, I repeated the phrase to him. We sat there and stared at our hands for the longest time. We both pledged never to remove the rings from our fingers. Mom and Aunt Alice were at the coffee shop when we arrived. There was no need to tell them what we’d purchased. Our smiles and demeanor gave us away instantly.

"Did we miss the wedding of our only children?" Mom asked. Aunt Alice seemed threatened somehow by the little bits of gold. Sam replied and told them both that they were just "friendship rings." As obvious a lie as it was, it seemed to calm Aunt Alice down quite a bit. Mom asked to see my ring. I held my hand out for her inspection. She laughed. "Take it off and let me look at it," she said. I slid it off my finger and handed it to her. This, after I’d just told Sam moments before that I’d never remove it. Did this count? I knew that I’d have to hide it away if she objected. What else could I do?

"Oh Joan! It’s absolutely beautiful. Your father and I almost…" She began and her voice trailed off. Yes, we were just fourteen. Well, I was anyway, I laughed. Still, weren’t the world’s most famous lovers our age: Romeo and Juliet. That ring may have been a small bit of metal, but it filled me with a power that I still can’t describe. I began thinking of myself as "Mrs. Joan Peters." Yes, I had totally lost my mind.

The look in Aunt Alice’s eyes suggested worry. "I hope you two know what you’re doing," she said at last. With the certitude that only fourteen years can bring, we hugged and kissed our mothers. Despite our pretense at "friendship" they both knew our feelings for one another ran far deeper than that.

"I love you. I love all of you," I announced for all the world to hear. Sam wrapped his arm around me protectively and we headed home. We arrived at Sam’s house and were invited in. Our parents sat at the kitchen table and Sam made me wait for him in the living room while he ran upstairs. He came back down moments later with an envelope in his hand. I could hear trumpets blowing in the distance as he handed it to me.

"What’s this?" I asked him with a puzzled expression.

"I couldn’t let you pay for your own ring, could I?" He said as he closed my fingers around the paper. "I wanted to get you something special. I’ve been saving up for forever. I just didn’t know what it was until we walked into the jewelry store. Then, it hit me and it was perfect." The envelope contained two hundred dollars in crisp twenty dollar bills.

"But Sam? Half of three-hundred is one-fifty." I said and laughed. "I know what a math whiz you are."

"Get yourself something pretty to wear with the change," he said jovially. I reluctantly placed the envelope in my purse. I hadn’t been expecting this at all. "I love you Joan. I guess you’re stuck with me now?" He smiled. The rings were only symbols of our love. Still, it was a love as pure and true as any the world had ever known.