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Harvest of Expectations Ch. 01

By: AutumnWriter



© Copyright 2013

Chapter 1 — In the Beginning

July 1973

It didn't matter that she wasn't pretty. He had been watching her watching him. He knew what that was all about.

It was Hildy Wertz, the lobby receptionist at the Operations Center of the utility company where Jim worked his summer job while he was in college. He knew her well enough to say 'hello' and that was about it. Sometimes, after showering but before actual quitting time, the summer college workers would gather in the lobby to pass the time, because leaving before exactly six was strictly against the rules. 

Hildy would be at the reception desk and trade cheerful banter with them. It was kind of nice to see her then because digging up gas lines every summer day was hot, dirty work. The lobby was air-conditioned and Hildy always wore a smile on her face.

Her hair was blonde—blonder-than-blonde—which was too bad because it seemed to Jim that a prettier girl could have made better use of it. It was difficult for him to put his finger on the problem, but her face just didn't have that look that made guys put her at the tops of their lists—or even in the top halves.

Her face was somewhat round, but sat atop a long, thin neck and her body was long and lean and the fit just didn't seem right. She had a broad smile that she would use to try to make you happy, but her lips were thin and not quite sensuous enough to be the stuff of dreams. Maybe her smile was too broad. 

Jim would have preferred that it could have been Kathy Mangano giving him the eye, that cute little brunette college girl who had a summer job working in the map room. But, he had made his play for her and been rebuffed just as he thought he was getting to First Base. 

It promised to be a long summer in Jim Connolly's hometown of Rochester, that mid-sized, mid-American style city on the Great Lakes. Before long he would return to Campbell University, about a two-hour drive away.

And, speaking of baseball, he shook himself out of his daydreams with a reminder that he was on deck. It was the company slo-pitch league. The departments recruited their summer college help to fill out their teams, in deference to their better physical condition than the regular employees with the beer bellies. Jim played for the Gas Line Operations Department.

The count was one-and-one. Jim figured he had a minute or two left to finish off his analysis of the young woman behind the team bench who seemed to have trouble hiding her interest in him. She chatted with her friend, Darlene, as they watched the game. She could have stood behind the Electric Line Operations Department's team bench on the other side of the field, since her job as receptionist seemed to cover all departments. But she had chosen the Gas bench and Jim was certain he knew why.

"C'mon—batter-up!" Jim heard the umpire yell at him.

Jim had to shake himself awake once again and stepped into the batter's box. 

"I'll show her something," he boasted to himself.

He lunged at the first offering from the pitcher and was lucky to make contact. The ball dribbled foul aside the third base line. It was a little embarrassing, but he had little time to think about that. The next pitch was on its way and he took it for a ball. He took a good cut at the next one.

"Double, at least, maybe a triple," he told himself as the ball launched itself off his bat. 

But the spin on the ball carried it out of play deep down the right field line. The count was one-and-two.

"I'd better buckle down or I'll strike out. That would really show her something." 

The pitcher lobbed an outside pitch, figuring to take advantage of the two-strike count. Jim was ready He reached out and lined a single over the second baseman.

"Not a triple, but not a strikeout, either," he said out loud as he rested his foot on the bag.

"How come you college guys are always talkin' to yourself?" the First Baseman asked. "I thought you guys went to college to learn something."

Jim didn't answer, but checked to see if Hildy was still watching him, and she was.

Another thing abut Hildy was that she was really tall—probably just over six feet. So, added to her homeliness, her height would probably prevent her from getting a lot of dates. In fact, Jim reckoned that she would tower over him by at least two inches, more if she wore heels. Still, those long, slender legs descending from the hot pants she wore made a heck of a statement, and those hot pants seemed to fit just right. It was another of Hildy's notable attributes that was easy to miss because he usually saw her sitting down at her reception desk in the lobby.

The next batter popped up for the third out. Jim trotted to the bench to retrieve his glove, and she was still watching him. As he made his way to right field he continued to mull over the prospects.

"It wouldn't be any big commitment—just a few dates for the summer."

He watched the shortstop field a pop-up. There was one away.

He thought about it for a minute and began to form some plans.

"She could help me get rid of my problem."

His problem, as he saw it, was his 'lack of adequate experience with the female sex', which was his own euphemism for not ever having had sex. He was determined to change that. At the age of twenty-two and just a single year left before his degree it seemed like the right thing to do.

He knew why he had the problem. Girls wanted relationships and attention as a prerequisite to problem solving. That meant money and time away from studies and sports and friends. It seemed like too high a price. He had been close a few times. There had been a few occasions when Jim might have been willing to take the relationship plunge. It seemed, however, that whenever he was willing things didn't seem to work out. 

"I'll get Hildy to help me out and then I'll be ready to go when school starts up. I've waited too long already."

He looked back into the infield and saw his teammates trotting off. He must have missed the final two outs of the game.

As he loped off the field he glanced at the bench area and found Hildy. She wasn't looking to make a fast getaway with Darlene. It was time to put a plan into action.

***************** 

"Hi, Hildy. We're going to Clancy's for a few beers after the game," he said to her as he picked up his baseball glove and began changing from his cleats to shoes."

"Oh," Hildy replied, "are you asking us to go?"

"Yeah, sure," Jim answered, and then cleared his throat. "You, too, Darlene"

The two young women looked at each other and didn't answer.

"C'mon, it'll be fun. I'm buying "

"I've got to get home," Darlene spoke up. "Give me a rain check." 

Jim shrugged.

"I'll see you in the morning, Hildy," she called over her shoulder as she headed for the parking lot about a hundred yards away. 

"Well, how about it?" Jim asked Hildy again.

Hildy's gaze trailed after Darlene, but then she turned and looked at Jim.

"Sure, I suppose so," she said, "just for a little while."

"We can go in my car." Jim offered. "The parking lot at Clancy's is a nightmare. I'll bring you back later and you can pick up your car."

With that they started walking together to the parking lot. The other guys on the team were already on their way. The regular company guys had girlfriends or wives on their arms.

Jim fumbled with his keys for a second and then opened the passenger door for Hildy. He tossed his equipment on the floor of the back seat on the passenger's side. It was a good way to take on the role of the gentleman, while preserving the ability to deny it, if necessary. 

He owned a beat up, red, Plymouth wagon. At college they called it the 'Rustmobile'. It didn't bother him because it was his, paid for from savings, his first car. It got him from place to place and now it would get him and Hildy to Clancy's.

"Nice car," Hildy said as Jim climbed behind the steering wheel. 

"Well, it's mine. I know it's not much but it'll get me by until I can afford something better."

"No—I meant it," Hildy laughed. "It's nice...and roomy."

She said it like she didn't care what the car looked like and that made Jim laugh along with her.

"Natural air conditioning in a few places, too," Jim countered.

They laughed again.

He was waiting to pull into traffic from the parking lot.

"I hope I didn't hurt Darlene's feelings," Jim offered. "I meant that she should come along too."

"That's okay. We talked about it ahead of time. We knew you were going to ask."

"Knew I was going to ask? How could you have known that?" he demanded.

"We saw you looking at us while you were playing Right Field," she laughed again.

She was right, of course. He could have countered that he'd seen her giving him the eye all night. He decided to keep that to himself?

"And so you two flipped a coin to see who would bow out and who would go to Clancy's with me?"

Hildy paused for a moment. 

"A girl can only divulge so much," she answered, "and I've already told you that we knew you were going to ask."

"Point-counterpoint."

A number of players from the team, complete with wives and girlfriends, were already inside the barroom, wedging through the crowd to order their beers. At least the regular company guys were there. The college guys who played on the team usually went somewhere else, but Jim preferred to go to Clancy's.

"Jim, do you need a beer?" Eddy shouted at him over the din.

Eddy was the Third Baseman and had already made his way to the bar rail. His wife stood off to the side. They were about thirty.

"I need two," Jim yelled back and then pointed to Hildy.

Eddy nodded and turned back to speak to the bar tender. Jim and Hildy made their way over to where Eddy's wife was waiting.

"Hi, Patti, this is Hildy."

Patty gave a faint smile, not her usual manner. She was usually happy to see Jim when he was alone and she was always nice to him. Jim didn't understand the chill.

"Maybe she has a headache."

But he noticed that she and Hildy weren't striking up a conversation. Just then, Eddy showed up with a tray full of beers. Eddy said 'hello' to Hildy, whom he already knew, and then the two men traded a few laughs over the game just played.

"Do you come here to celebrate when you win?" Hildy asked.

"Well, we won tonight, but we come over after every game, win or lose," Eddy answered. "Otherwise we would only come here two or three times a season."

That was good for another good laugh. They chatted some more and then Patty said that she wanted to go home.

"I'll buy us another round," Jim said to Hildy. "Why don't you grab that empty booth over there while I go to the bar?"

The crowd was thinning as fast as it had grown. It was quiet enough that they could speak to one another without shouting. Jim bought two beers and walked over to the booth where Hildy was waiting for him.

Jim thought he should say something to Hildy, but didn't know where to start.

"How many summers have you worked at CG&E?" Hildy asked.

"This is my fifth," Jim answered. 

"Fifth? I thought college was four years," Hildy countered. "Anyway, I only remember you from this year and last year."

"What I'm studying takes five years," Jim explained. "I worked in the electric power station my first three years. Then they sent me over to Gas Line Operations. With all the new home construction I guess they need the help over here more."

Hildy nodded and took a sip of her beer.

"At the power station I worked in the coal yard and was a helper to the boiler repairmen. It was hot all the time and the coal gets all over you—even in your mouth and nostrils. The work is hard over here, but at least it's outside."

"I wish I could work outside once in a while," Hildy said. She put her beer down on the table. "What do you study that takes five years?"

"Chem-E," he answered.

"Kemmy?" Hildy asked as she scrunched her nose. "What's Kemmy?"

"No, not 'Kemmy—Chem-E—Chemical Engineering. I'll be done next spring."

"Chem-E means about as much to me as Kemmy," she confessed as she shook her head. "So, this is your last summer here?"

"Well, I sure hope so," Jim said. 

Hildy cast her eyes down at the table for a moment.

"Would you like me to explain Chem-E to you," he offered.

She lifted her eyes from the table and shook her head. She must have sensed that it was something that he wanted to explain to her.

"Maybe another time," she replied.

He thought the explanation of Chemical Engineering would be just the thing to talk about to fill some time. He wondered if he should start in on it, anyway.

"I've been with CG&E for three years," Hildy said. "I started right after High School."

"So, you're saving money so you can go to college?" Jim answered, presuming to have hit on a topic.

Hildy shook her head. 

"No, I'm just working here."

Jim felt the loss of contact, and when she didn't continue right away he hoped he hadn't hurt her feelings. He should have thought first, he knew. He tried to think of something to say that would ease him out of his clumsy assumption.

"I said that I graduated High School," Hildy said before Jim could think of what to say. "I never said I was the valedictorian."

She finished her beer and smacked it down on the table. She was laughing again. Jim couldn't decide if it was at her own joke or at his presumption. At any rate, he decided to laugh along with her. At first he forced himself to do it, but as he did, it felt better. 

"What are you laughing at?" Hildy demanded.

"At asking a stupid question," he answered. "What were you laughing at.?"

Hildy's face turned serious.

"I just work at CG&E," she said. "I'm not looking to go to college; I'm not the Algebra and Shakespeare type. That's okay for some people and not for others. I've known for a long time that I'm one of the others."

"Hildy, I'm sorry if I..."

"Don't be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. I was just being honest."

Jim noticed that Hildy's beer glass was empty. 

"Hildy, I'd buy another round but I have to decide if I want another round of beer tonight or gasoline in my car tomorrow morning."

The admission made Hildy laugh again, and Jim was glad.

"What a couple of honest people we are," she declared. "It's time to go, anyway. Besides, the air conditioning in here is a bit too much."

They got up to leave and headed for the door.

"I was hoping that those goose bumps on your legs were for me, but I guess it was the air conditioning."

Hildy was quick with the reply. 

"We'll never know," she said. "They might have been, but the air conditioning took over before I could tell." 

Jim didn't quite understand her last remark, but decided to think about it later. In a few minutes they were pulling into the company lot.

**************** 

"Which car is yours," he asked as they made the turn.

There were about a half dozen cars in the lot. Most were bunched up near the front of the building. One stood alone in the middle of the large employee lot. Jim figured the ones up front were the cleaning staff.

"The purple Plymouth Duster over there," she replied.

Jim had been right. He drove up next to the driver's side of her car and put his wagon in Park.

"We could form a Plymouth Club," he said, as he tried a last joke of the evening.

Hildy shrugged. "Yeah, maybe."

"So, do you have an apartment or someplace you're going to now?" Jim asked.

"No," she replied, "I live with my parents."

Her answer surprised Jim, and it wasn't the one he was hoping for.

"What did you expect?" she asked.

It was Jim's turn to shrug. 

"Don't go yet," he said as he switched off the motor. "It's not that late. We can talk here for a few minutes, can't we?"

He wondered if he sounded like he was begging. Then, he admitted to himself that he was. 

"Talk about what," she asked, with a hint of curiousness he detected in her voice.

Jim turned sideways to look at her.

"We could talk about CG&E; we could talk about 'Kemmy'."

He slid closer to her.

"You'll need to find something more interesting," she replied.

It occurred to him to ask what she'd meant by 'interesting', but there was something in her voice that sounded to Jim like an invitation. He moved closer to her, lifted her chin with his fingers and when she looked at him, he kissed her.

She didn't kiss him back, but she let him kiss her again. When he moved as close to her as he could get, she let him put his arms around her. He felt her put her arms around his shoulders. He wished it was a more passionate embrace, but it was like she was being polite. It felt like when he slow-danced with Mary Lou Riesman at the Senior Prom. 

They were kissing for a few minutes and he shifted so that she could stretch out her long legs on the car seat and slide to the center of it so that she could lie down. She was looking up at him as he bent to kiss her some more. He wondered what her expression said—he couldn't say—but he surmised that it didn't say 'no'.

"I think Hildy is going to help me out with my 'problem'," he thought, "and she's going to help me out right now." 

He thought that the next step might be the blouse and bra. That seemed the usual way, and it worked to a point with Patty Hall when he got her to come to his room at the fraternity house a couple of years ago. He recalled how she'd stopped him short of the goal line back then, and at that moment it occurred to him that they were in a car in the midst of a well-lit parking lot.

"Best to keep it to a minimum," he figured.

Hildy wasn't that impressive on top, anyway. He'd checked that out already when he hugged her. 

So, they spent a few more minutes kissing—he leaning down atop her. He pulled his hand from around her and reached down to the button of her hot pants. She didn't stop him when he undid the button. He did feel her gasp a bit and her muscles tighten for a moment, but she seemed to get over it.

"No time to lose before she changes her mind."

His problem was nearing its solution.

She raised her hips as he tugged the hot pants down her leg, her panties with them. He had to climb atop her and in the car it was easier said than done.

So, it wouldn't be the most romantic lovemaking he would ever have. And it certainly didn't seem to going that great for Hildy, either. It was more a task that needed to be done. There could be other times when the moment and setting could be better. He looked down at Hildy, who seemed ready to let him inside her. He wondered what she was thinking. He prepared to complete the act, but a final thought delayed him.

"Hildy," he whispered, "you've done this kind of thing before, haven't you?"

"No, never," was the reply, and there was no laughter in her voice as she said it.

He forced himself ahead, although his instincts told him to pause.

"You're on the pill or something, aren't you?"

"No."

"'No'—that was it? How could she take the risk? Well, that was her problem." 

"Well, it's your safe time of month, right?"

"I don't know. I never know. My periods are very erratic."

He felt a chill. It put goose bumps on the back of his neck like the air conditioning did on Hildy's thighs back at Clancy's bar. And in both cases he would never know what, exactly, caused them. He rose and drew up his pants and buckled them.

"Hildy, maybe we should do this sometime when we can find a place that's more private."

She didn't answer, but sat up right away and pulled her pants back on.

"Hildy, I hope you're not mad..."

"I'm sorry", she said. "It's my fault. I knew what you were expecting. Maybe we can try again some time."

"Jeez, I'm sorry, too, Hildy. It was just so spur of the moment and all..."

"I guess your car isn't as roomy as I thought," she laughed.


Harvest of Expectations Ch. 01



Jim was relieved. She was laughing again and that made him feel better.

"Then we can still be friends?" Jim asked. "How about going out Saturday night?"

Hildy nodded.

"Sure, I'd like that."

She opened the car door and stepped out into the parking lot. 

"See you tomorrow," she said as she drew her car keys out of the pockets of her hot pants.

It was eleven-thirty and she was off, back to her parents' house in her purple Plymouth Duster. Jim wondered if her parents would ask her how her evening went. 



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 02



© Copyright 2013

Chapter 2 — The Next Step

July 1973

Jim liked to get a fix in his minds eye how events would go. It helped him make sure that they always went just right.

Jim watched Hildy drive out of the parking lot and turn onto the main road. He started his own car and put it in gear. Soon he was headed home, to his parents' house, which was in the opposite direction, where he stayed during his summers and school vacations.

It was nearly midnight, so his parents wouldn't be up waiting for him, which Jim considered to be a good thing. For, no matter whether he ended up judging the night's events good or bad, a failure or a near-success, he knew either of his parents would consider them bad. He had a lot to think about.

"Why didn't I just go for it when I had the chance?" 

He couldn't answer. Perhaps it was his fear of making Hildy pregnant and all the trouble that would bring him--and her. But he reminded himself that he didn't feel quite right before the subject even came up at the very end. It just didn't feel like it was supposed to feel. He thought that she was experienced. He was wrong about that, for she told him that she had never done anything like that, either.

"She has a problem, too."

But why was a problem for girls not considered a problem for them like it was for young men like him? Young women often sought to preserve their problem, while guys like Jim were trying to get rid of it from the moment they could get their hands on a Playboy magazine.

"Not like a James Bond movie."

He wondered why Bond Girls never worried about getting pregnant, and why James Bond never had to do it squeezed into the front seat of a beat up Plymouth wagon. 

"I have to plan ahead better."

At least, he thought, he should have a few condoms ready. He thought again and wondered how he would screw up the courage to take the pharmacist aside and ask him to look under the counter for his supply of Trojans. He would have to work on that later, and whether to get the red or blue pack—because the pharmacist would be sure to ask.

As he turned into his parents' neighborhood he asked himself about Hildy.

"I wonder what she thinks about what happened tonight," he asked out loud.

He had no idea what the answer might be. Perhaps she had unanswered questions, too. As he thought and remembered he recalled that Hildy would have gone along with whatever Jim wanted to do even though it was clear that she was hardly in the throes of passion, like a Bond Girl would have been. 

"And then, she told me that she had never done it, either." 

Didn't girls want their first time to be just right, a sweet memory to pack away in their hope chests? Why would Hildy be willing to give all that up, just for a quickie in a station wagon to help Jim out of his problem? 

"Why did she go along with it when she didn't really want to?" was all he could answer, and then realized that his answer was a question. 

He was in his parents' driveway. He shut off the motor and sat behind the wheel for a minute thinking.

"I've got to understand this better. I've got to understand Hildy better."

He'd made a date with Hildy for Saturday. Maybe he would find out more then—if Hildy didn't call it off.

**************** 

The next morning was Thursday and Jim drew an easy job for the day. Frank Paternico's helper had the day off and Jim was assigned to take his place.

Frank drove a dump truck for the Gas Line Department. He delivered loads of gravel, blacktop and soil, as well as other supplies to job sites for the crews. All Jim had to do was ride along in the truck and help load and unload the materials. Compared to eight hours of digging, it was easy work. It was his lucky day.

Frank was also the Softball Team Manager. He played First Base. Frank was a family man, a traditional Italian, about forty years old, clean-shaven with a Julius Caesar kind of face and just showing signs of a belly. He was at his truck with a fistful of work orders when Jim walked out in the yard after receiving his assignment.

"I drew you," Jim announced.

He liked Frank and thought they would talk baseball all day. Frank was a big sports fan. 

"I know," Frank countered. "I asked especially for you."

That surprised Jim, but he thought little of it. He started looking forward to a day of baseball talk, and probably other sports, too. Jim was a pole-vaulter on his college track team. He climbed into the passenger's seat. Frank got in behind the wheel.

"Pretty good game last night, wasn't it, Frank?" Jim said as Frank pulled the dump truck onto the highway.

"Yeah, pretty good. We've got to go and pick up a load of gravel first thing," he said.

It wasn't like Frank to be preoccupied by the job. Jim decided to try again.

"Why didn't you go over to Clancy's with us? You should have gone for a little while. It was a great win—you're our leader."

"I never go out to bars," Frank grumbled. "It's better that I go home. The wife's expecting me right after the game."

Jim was only trying to get the conversation ball rolling, and when it didn't roll he knew it was better to be quiet and wait for Frank to speak. They drove along for about five miles on the way to the gravel yard. 

They passed one of their usual morning coffee places without stopping, and Jim knew that Frank had something on his mind. He wondered if the boss upstairs had yelled at Frank for wasting too much time on the job.

When they got to the gravel pit Frank spoke for the first time since leaving the company lot. He pulled the truck onto the scale, reached into his pouch for the purchase order. He climbed out of the truck and headed for the shack where the yardmaster had his office.

"Hop up into the box and make sure there isn't nothin' loose back there before they dump the gravel in," he called out to Jim over his shoulder.

Jim got out and climbed up the side of the truck to take a look in the box. There was a shovel that he thought should be secured better, and he fixed that. He climbed down and got back into the cab and Frank was not far behind. Frank still said nothing to him as he put the truck in gear and made for a giant mound of gravel where a loader was waiting for them,

They were back on the highway, retracing their steps on the way to the job. Frank broke the ice.

"Gonna be a hot one today," Frank barked over the growl of the diesel, "over ninety." 

"That's what I heard, Frank. It's over eighty already and it's not even nine o'clock."

"Those guys on the work crews are gonna' really sweat it out today," Frank went on. "Pretty nice of me to pull this easy duty for ya'."

Jim did like Frank, but no one is perfect. One of Frank's imperfections was making sure that you knew he was doing you a big favor. He did it when he let Jim play Right Field instead of Catcher, or when he promoted him to batting third instead of seventh in the order. Perhaps, Jim thought, Frank fancied himself as a sort of 'Don Vito Corleone' of the Gas Line Operations Department. Jim knew he was asking for trouble, but decided to indulge himself in a rejoinder, just the same.

"Did you tell Louie to take the day off so I could ride with you?"

"Wise guy," Frank growled.

Jim knew that Frank was displeased. He decided to make Frank a deal he couldn't refuse.

"I'll buy if you stop at the coffee place."

"I was gonna' stop anyway," Frank answered as they approached the diner they'd passed on their way to the gravel pit. "But I'm gonna let you buy, anyway."

Frank pulled the truck off to the side with the other trucks. When they walked into the diner it was about half-full. Jim spotted two empty stools at the counter and started to go for them.

"Let's get that table over there, instead," Frank said, so Jim made a detour and they waited for the waitress.

"I bet you wish you were back at that college of yours chasin' those college girls," Frank said.

That was another of Frank's little habits. He was always telling Jim how he would be sowing his wild Italian oats among Jim's lustful and voluptuous female classmates. While Jim would have felt fortunate to bed just one or two of them, Frank claimed that he would be making scores of the promiscuous little tarts feel lucky. 

It made Jim smile to himself, because he was quite sure that Frank's only lifetime sexual conquest was Frank's own wife in their marriage bed. At the same time, it was a little bit discomforting because it served to remind Jim of his problem.

"If I were your age I'd make sure they knew what it felt like to have a big..."

"But they're all home on summer break right now," Jim reminded him.

Frank paused, like a boy realizing that a pin had been stuck in his balloon.

"Yeah, right," Frank said, "but you know what I meant."

"Sure, Frank, I know what you meant."

Just then the waitress brought them their coffee and orders of whole wheat toast. Frank pointed at Jim and the waitress handed him the check. She was surprised because Frank liked to pick up the check.

"Lose a bet to him, or something?" she asked.

Jim didn't answer, but wondered to himself if he had and just not found out about it yet.

"See," Frank said in his coaching tone as Jim washed down a mouthful of toast with a swallow of coffee, "I would keep it for those college girls. They're that kind. It's expected and they look forward to it. It's just a fun thing for them and they know how to handle a one-time thing."

Jim shook his head.

"That's not altogether true, Frank. That's something that you guys think, but it's just not like that. I wish it was more like the way you think it is."

"That's not what I heard," Frank countered, "I heard..."

"Look at Kathy Mangano in the map room," Jim said. "She's in college and..." 

"You had your eye on her," Frank interrupted and poked his finger through the air at Jim.

Jim knew that his point was lost by giving Frank an opening to change the subject.

"Yes, for a while," Jim admitted.

Frank looked down into his coffee cup. After a few seconds he took a deep breath and then looked up at Jim.

"What I'm getting at is this," Frank said. "Hildy's not like one of your college girls. She's not experienced like them. It's not the same with her. She could get hurt."

"We only had a few beers together at Clancy's," Jim said. "And besides, how did you know..."

"A guy on the cleaning crew saw your two cars parked together in the lot, and then saw her get out and go home," Frank told him. 

A chill ran through Jim. He knew his instincts had been right all along.

"What else did they see?"

"Just that," Frank said. "I can only guess..."

"Guess all you want. We were only talking for a little while. We were making a date for Saturday."

Frank looked down and shook his head again. He sunk his face into his hands.

"A date!" he wailed. "Oh, my God!"

"It's just a date for Saturday night, Frank," Jim pleaded.

Frank looked up and shook his head again.

"Don't let this get out of hand," Frank warned. "Where are you takin' her, anyway?"

"I don't know right now. I've got today and tomorrow to figure it out."

"Well, take her somewhere nice," Frank insisted.

"I was thinking of the Shakespeare Room."

******************* 

Jim hated to be late. The big reason wasn't that he was afraid of wasting time, although he did hate wasting time. He just thought it was a sign of good manners to be on time.

So it turned out that he arrived early at Hildy's house to pick her up that Saturday night for their date. It was ten minutes before seven o'clock. It was in a small hamlet of houses in the midst of a rural area where he'd never been. So, he reserved a few extra minutes to make certain that he was on time.

He wasn't driving the 'Rustmobile'. His father had loaned him his new Pontiac Catalina for the occasion.

"Dad can be an okay guy when he wants to be," Jim said to himself as he approached the street where Hildy said he would find her house. 

He slowed his car to a crawl as he peered at the house numbers to find the right one. He saw a white house with a screened porch. There was a middle aged man and woman watching him from the porch, a sort of peanut gallery.

"Number eighty-two, I think I've found it."

He stopped and then backed up a little and pulled into the driveway. It had been raining during the day and the driveway was made of crushed stone. Jim was wearing a jacket and tie so he was careful in stepping out of the car to avoid puddles to keep his polished shoes clean. The two people on the porch were still watching him from about thirty feet away inside the screened enclosure, but had said nothing to him. He looked around for a walkway.

"There's no walkway, so you'll have to walk through the grass," the man said.

Jim could see it was so and his plans to keep his shoes clean seemed to be going down the drain. 

"Or you could go around to the back of the house and I could let you in through the kitchen," the lady sitting next to him offered.

Jim saw that the grass had been mowed and trimmed. It wouldn't be dry, but there was a good chance of keeping his shoes clean.

"Thanks just the same, ma'am. I'll just come through the lawn, if that's okay."

Jim didn't wait for an answer. He reached into the back seat and pulled out his blazer and put it on. In a few seconds he was marching up the front steps of the porch. He swung open the creaky door and stepped in.

"Hi, I'm Jim Connolly," Jim announced as he reached out his hand to the gentleman, who was facing him on his left.

The man didn't rise from his chair and hesitated for a second, looking Jim up and down with a scowl on his face. He reached out with an alligator arm and took Jim's hand.

Jim couldn't tell for sure because the man shaking his hand was seated, but it appeared to him that he was average height and average build with a little belly. His hair was thinning and combed backward on his head. There were thick jowls that made his head appear too big for his shoulders. Jim pegged his age to be in his early fifties. He was wearing a tee shirt with pants and suspenders. 

The woman next to him was about the same age, a little larger built, but not much. She was wearing a cotton dress. Jim wondered how Hildy had become so tall, but he knew better than to ask that question. 

"I know who you are," the man said. "Hildy told us you were coming for her. I'm her father."

"Yes sir," Jim replied. "It's nice to..."

"I'm Herb Wertz," he added. "This is Mrs. Wertz."

The older man released Jim's hand, which Jim offered to the lady seated next to Hildy's father. She didn't reach out to take his hand, so Jim pulled it back.

"Glad to meet you, Mr. Wertz," Jim replied "and you too, Mrs. Wertz."

"Hilda is still getting ready," her mother said.

"You're early," Mr. Wertz pointed out.

"I wasn't sure how to find your house so I gave myself a few extra minutes," Jim answered, "but I didn't need them. So, here I am."

The older man grunted. Jim expected one of them to ask him to be seated or if he would like a glass of lemonade like they were drinking. There was a spare chair alongside Mrs. Wertz. Hildy's parents didn't offer the chair or the lemonade, so Jim kept standing in front of them.

"Hildy says that you're an engineering student," the older man told him.

"Yes sir; Chemical Engineering. I'll start my final year in the fall."

"Then what?" Hildy's father demanded.

Jim shrugged.

"I'm not sure right now," he answered, and that was the truth. "I'm just trying to concentrate on getting my fifth year project done."

Hildy's father grunted again.

"Hilda tried to explain what kind of engineer you are," her mother said, "but she couldn't quite make us understand..."

"The trouble is," Herbert interrupted, "Hildy's not very smart. We tried to get her to concentrate more in school, but she just wouldn't—barely graduated. She's just not too smart."

"I hadn't noticed, sir," Jim said, "and I'm not an engineer yet. First, I have to graduate and then take my boards and..."

"We tried to get her to go to Secretarial School, but she just couldn't do the grammar," her mother added.

"She just didn't want to listen," her father said. "It was one problem after another. Like I said, she's not very smart. She's not very good looking, either."

Herb was going to say something else, but then his voice trailed away.

Jim found himself shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was groping for something to say.

"I like your house," he began, "I like the closed in porch and..."

"I see you've met my parents already."

It was Hildy stepping through the door that led from the porch to the inside of the house. She looked nice, but not over-dressed in a black skirt and a white, satin blouse.

"We better get going," she said and Jim noticed that her face was red.

She turned and started out the door to the porch, but her father stopped them. 

"Where are you two going?" he demanded. 

"I thought we would go to the Shakespeare Room," Jim answered.

Herb grunted again and Jim noted that it was the third time he had done so since he'd arrived.

"Not too late," he ordered them, "no later than twelve."

"Well, I was..." Jim started to say.

"Any later and Hildy's mother won't get any sleep."

Hildy and Jim descended down the small set of stairs onto the lawn and headed for the car.

"I know something about engineering," Herb called after them as they were walking away. "I'm a machinist."

**************** 

The Shakespeare Room was a new place in the downtown section of the city. It was in the basement of the headquarters building of CMC, a machinery company that was a major employer. It was neither a disco nor a restaurant. There was music, and you could have drinks and snacks, too. Most of the patrons were a bit older than Jim.

Jim was being careful to back the Pontiac out into the road without going over on Hildy's parents' lawn.

"I've never been to the Shakespeare Room," Hildy said as Jim peered into the side view mirror.

"Me, neither," Jim admitted.

He completed backing out of the driveway and they were on their way out of the little hamlet where Hildy lived and driving toward the State Highway. Jim glanced over and saw that Hildy's eyes were bloodshot, in addition to her face having turned red.

"Feel okay, Hildy?"

"I'll be fine," she sniffed.

Jim searched for the right thing to say. He knew he had to say something.

"We don't have to go to the Shakespeare room," he said at last. "We could go somewhere else."

Hildy shook her head and Jim saw a tear roll down her cheek for just a second, which she wiped away before she thought Jim could have seen it.

Hildy wasn't talking, but Jim felt that he understood the problem.

"Hey, Hildy, I'm sorry about the other night. It just happened; I didn't plan it to happen. We should have talked about it first."

"It's not that," she said.

She didn't say anything for a minute and Jim was out of ideas, so he didn't say anything, either.

"I was behind the door all the time while you were talking to my parents on the porch," she said at last. "I heard everything."

Jim had wondered at the time how Hildy's parents could say the things that they did about her and be so confident that she would not overhear them.

"They weren't very nice to you," Hildy said as Jim was thinking. "I'm sorry."

It wasn't what he would have expected her to say. It occurred to him that her parents' frosty reception didn't bother him as much as Hildy thought it did. He wondered if he should let it bother him more. It was Hildy, after all, who should have felt hurt. He wondered why she didn't.

"That doesn't matter, Hildy," Jim countered. "Parents don't usually like me very much. I'm used to it."




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 02



It was a little lie to make Hildy feel better. Jim didn't go out on that many dates, especially during the summer when parents would be around. When he did, the girls' parents were usually nice enough. He reasoned that they felt their daughters were safe because they could sense that he had the problem. 

"I was thinking it was kind of mean of them to talk about you the way they did—you know, about your school results and everything."

Hildy sighed.

"I'm used to that," she answered.

"Well, it took me by surprise," Jim said. "I didn't think it was right for them to air the family laundry like that. Besides, I don't care to be told what to think about a person. I'd prefer to figure that out for myself."

They were approaching a busy intersection. Jim stopped talking in order to pay attention to traffic.

"You would?" Hildy asked.

Jim glanced over at her and thought he could see a faint smile on her face.

"Of course!"

They drove along for a while longer without saying anything. 

"Why did you decide to go to the Shakespeare Room, anyway?" Hildy asked.

Jim glanced over at her.

"Not that I'm complaining," she added.

"I thought it would be just right," Jim began to explain. "There will be music and drinks, so it should be nice. I've heard that the music isn't quite so loud like it would be if we went to a disco, so it would be nice to be able to be able to talk without having to shout."

******************** 

There had been a time when Jim had been self-conscious and would avoid appearing to stand out from what people expected of him. It still bothered him sometimes, but it seemed to be something he'd left behind in his younger years.

"Are you glad that we came here?" he asked Hildy as they sat at a table listening to the music and watching the people dance.

There wasn't a band, but recorded music, like in a disco. The style was a bit more relaxed and the volume reduced. There were a lot of tables and they were all full. The lights were turned down by half, so it was dark enough to be private but light enough to see what was going on. Jim judged most of the patrons to be young couples in their late twenties or early thirties. Probably, some were married and some others were thinking about it. It was a nice, polite place with a nice, polite crowd.

"Sure, it's nice here," Hildy answered.

"You see, I thought a long time about where the best place to go might be," Jim went on. "I wondered if you might like a more hip dance place better..."

"This is fine," Hildy assured him.

"But, like I said, I thought it might be better to find a place where we could talk to one another without having to yell."

Hildy threw her head back and laughed.

"You mean to say you spent all that time and effort thinking just about that?" she asked. "I wouldn't have. I would have just let a thought come into my head and if it felt right—then that's it!"

She'd said it with such conviction. Jim wondered if he should just drop the whole subject, but it seemed like it was important that she understand what he'd said.

"I just like to make sure it's the best choice," he explained. "So that it has the best chance of being the best it can be. I don't like to look back on things and think that I could have made a better choice."

There, he'd laid it all out for her, so she would see his point, at long last.

"I just like to do what feels right at the moment," she insisted. "And then I wait to see what happens. And if it turns out for the best, it's a nice surprise."

He must have had a crest-fallen look on his face because Hildy spoke up again.

"Look, I was surprised when you brought me here and look how well it turned out."

"Were you surprised when I asked you out?" he asked.

"Yes, I guess I was."

"How about when I tried to get you to do it in my car in the company parking lot?" 

"Well," she laughed, "two out of three isn't bad."

That was something they could both laugh at, and they did. They had been in the Shakespeare Room for three hours. They were finishing their third round of drinks and danced to a few of the 'fast-dance' songs.

"Want another round?" Jim asked.

"Oh, I don't think so. I'm not used to mixed drinks and this is my third already."

Jim was grateful, because drinks in the Shakespeare Room were expensive, and they'd ordered a plate of veggie and cheese snacks, too.

"How about one more dance, and then we'll head out?" Jim asked.

Hildy nodded and they headed for the dance floor. The song that was playing was The Fifth Dimension's 'Workin' on a Groovy Thing'. It was a poor choice for dancing: not good for fast-dancing, but a bit fast-paced to be good for a slow dance. Jim looked around and noticed that most couples were sitting out the song. He looked at Hildy, wondering if she might give him a hint on how to handle the difficult tune.

"Let's slow dance this one," she said as he paused before starting.

It was a good choice. He put his arm around her waist and drew her a bit closer to him. She smelled of soap, not perfume and he liked it. He had been looking at her face when he knew she didn't see him looking. She was wearing a little bit of make-up, of course, but not much. Jim liked that, too. 

Her blonde hair descended to just above her shoulders and framed her face. It looked bright and fresh, young and unspoiled. He'd become used to the little under bite and a few other things, and he liked her face just like her soapy smell.

"This is hard to dance to, but I always liked the song," Hildy said as they swayed to the music.

Best of all, Hildy's smile was a smile and her frown was a frown. She made no effort to hide her expressions or force them to happen. She let her face rule itself, like one of her surprises.

"Aren't you embarrassed that I'm taller than you?" she asked as they made a turn.

She'd hit the issue head-on when he'd least expected it. 

"I hadn't noticed, Hildy."

It was a lie, but a harmless, polite, white lie. He had noticed and he was certain that everyone else in the room had noticed, too. She'd only worn two-inch heels, but towered over him by at least three inches, probably a little more.

"Well, now that you do notice it, does it bother you?"

He'd thought that his little politism had satisfied her. When she asked again he regretted the lie no matter how harmless, polite and white he'd intended it.

"No, it doesn't, Hildy. Maybe once it might have. It doesn't bother me at all."

Hildy didn't say anything, and appeared to accept his answer. The mood had become serious. Jim tried to think of something to lighten things up.

"The important question is whether it bothers you to be taller than me."

She was laughing again, and Jim was glad for that. 

"No," was all she said in a soft voice as the song ended.

********************** 

They were in his car, driving out of downtown toward the rural area where Hildy lived.

"Hildy, it's only about eleven o'clock. I know an all-night diner where we could have a cup of coffee and maybe a piece of pie, if you would like to."

She didn't answer for a few seconds and sounded surprised when she did.

"Oh—why, yes—that would be nice."

After a few minutes Jim pulled his father's car into a parking lot where there was a diner with bright lights. He parked and soon they were seated in the back corner in a booth.

"There's something about blueberry pie that I just can't resist," he confessed as he shoveled a forkful into his mouth. 

Hildy passed on the pie, but was nursing a small dish of ice cream along with her coffee.

"Tell me why it takes five years for you to graduate while most people only need four," Hildy asked.

"It's just that there are a lot of courses to take," Jim answered.

He went on to explain that he had to take a lot of chemistry courses as well as the physics and math of other engineering majors.

"There's just not enough time in four years," he said.

"I never passed Chemistry in high school," Hildy admitted. "I passed Biology, though."

She looked up from her coffee, as if she was expecting some kind of risqué remark from him. But, Jim just listened.

"I tried Chemistry but couldn't pass. I took an alternate science course so I could get my diploma. I think they called it 'Science for People Who Can't Pass Chemistry but Have to Get a Diploma." 

It was another time that Hildy had made them laugh—and Jim had lost count how many times that had been since the evening began.

She asked him more about his chosen profession and Jim was happy to tell her all about it and how he was excited at the prospect of finishing school and landing a challenging job at a first-rate company. He explained to her how he wanted to win his Track and Field letter in the spring and what he would have to do to make it happen. He knew that she couldn't possibly be interested in these things that could only have interested him. He enjoyed telling her, however, and it appeared that she was enjoying listening to him. So, he kept on talking.

They'd finished their desserts and their second coffee refills.

"Time to fire up the Catalina," Jim announced. 

"Where did you come up with this car, anyway? I meant to ask you. I was expecting the 'Rustmobile'," Hildy asked as Jim turned over the ignition.

"My father loaned it to me," Jim replied. "I was on my way out the door and Dad said that the 'Rustmobile' wasn't fit for respectable people, and then he tossed me the keys. Dad can be an alright guy when he wants to be."

Jim couldn't see Hildy's face, because it was dark. She didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry about my father tonight," she said at last. "He comes across the wrong way sometimes. He doesn't mean it. At least, I don't think he means it."

It was hard for him to think of the right thing to say. He didn't care for Hildy's father—at least the single time that they'd met. 

"He's okay," Jim said, "just a bit over-protective."

"Well, I just wish..." Hildy began to say, but then stopped without finishing her thought.

Jim turned down the road that led to Hildy's house.

"I've got just enough time to get you home before your father's curfew," Jim said. "I don't want him to give you a hard time in the morning.

They were passing an empty parking lot that served one of the county parks.

"A lot of couples use that lot to park at night in the summer," Hildy told him as they approached it.

Jim didn't answer and kept driving. It was just a couple of minutes before he pulled the Catalina into Hildy's driveway. He turned off the headlights so that he wouldn't wake her parents.

"Hildy," he explained, "we tried the parking lot thing a few nights ago and it just didn't seem to be as nice as it should have been. Besides, like I said, I don't want you to get a hard time in the morning and it's getting to be that time."

"Okay," Hildy answered. 

Her voice said little, but her face had one of those frowns that appeared on its own and she made no effort to disguise.

"Hildy, you're not mad, are you?"

She shuffled across the car seat, close to where he was seated.

"Of course not; how could I be mad at you?" she whispered 

She leaned closer and kissed him on the lips. It was nice. Jim realized that, despite their encounter in the Rustmobile several nights before, it was the first time that she had kissed him. She felt warm and soft and he felt like she was trying to give him some sort of reward, though he did not know for sure why he was being rewarded. He liked it just the same. As Jim thought about that he felt her hands around the back of his head as she pulled him even closer and kissed him again.

She broke away after about a minute.

Jim looked at her and she was smiling. She slid back to her side of the car.

"I'll see you on Monday," she said as she bounded out the passenger door, being careful not to make a lot of noise as she closed it.

Jim watched as she unlocked her door and went inside. He backed the Catalina out of Hildy's driveway and was on his way home.

As he drove Jim thought about how, despite all his planning, events surprised him, just like Hildy had been talking about. But that was okay because he had a feeling that he wasn't used to and he hoped it wouldn't leave him for a while.

He thought about the package of condoms in the glove box that he'd screwed up the courage to buy, but hadn't used. If his father—or God forbid his mother—found them it would be a long time before he would have the keys to the Catalina again.

"On second thought, Ma probably wouldn't know what they're for." 

He chuckled a little at the thought, but reached over and pulled the contraband out and put them in his pocket. He was taking no chances.



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 03



Chapter 3 — Second Opinion

September 1973

Any time Jim had a project or an assignment he tried everything he could to meet the expectations of those who expected him to perform. He tried his best every time, but he wasn't successful on each and every occasion, of course. When that happened he felt bad and hoped for another chance. 

"Hey Rich—hey Rich, are you here?"

Jim had his arms full with two suitcases as he shouted out his roommate's name.

"Yeah, I'm here," was the muffled reply. "I'm in the can. Keep your shirt on."

Jim went back to the car to fetch another load of boxes while Rich finished up his business.

As Jim returned with more of his gear Rich was standing in the living room of the apartment he and Rich would be sharing for the second year in a row.

Rich Garland and Jim were well-suited to be roommates, having been pals for the entire previous four years of their college careers. They were tuned in to each other's attitudes and probably knew more details of each other's private lives than their respective parents.

They had a lot in common, too. They both studied engineering and understood the academic demands of that field. Rich, like Jim, was athletic and had been on the university's rowing team when he had been eligible. In their younger years they had enjoyed the rough and tumble of fraternity house life, but the years had mellowed them.

Like Jim, he was clean-cut, a bit bigger than Jim at just over six feet and had a big frame. He had good—but not pretty boy—looks, fair-complected with dark hair. It was probably his easy-going personality mixed with his air of self-confidence that drew girls to him. 

"How much more stuff you got to bring in?"

One more trip if you give me a hand," Jim answered.

"Let's do it," his roommate said and soon they had Jim's gear sitting in the middle of the living room floor.

"I got tired of waiting for you," Rich said. "I was about to go down to the frat lodge."

Rich and Jim had pledged the same college fraternity five years before when they were freshmen. They still belonged, but had found that the 'frat lodge', as they liked to call it, was a good place to visit but not to live in if a person had some serious studying to do. Rich had already earned his degree in Mechanical Engineering the year before and was staying an extra year to earn his Masters.

"I'll start putting this stuff away," Jim said.

"That can wait," Rich answered. "Let's have a beer first."

He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out two cans of brew. He tossed one to Jim and they each found a place to sit amid the clutter.

The apartment, which was attached to the landlord's house in the hills overlooking the town, was also a good place for them to pursue the kind of social life that suited them. After three years of fraternity house life, something a little more refined was to their liking.

"So," Rich began, "are you ready for the 'big push'?" 

"As ready as I'll ever be," Jim answered. "I've got my Fifth Year Design Project ahead of me. That's going to be a bear. I haven't even outlined a project to submit to the faculty committee. I'd like to get my track letter this year, too."

The 'Fifth Year Project' was a sort of final thesis for Chemical Engineering Degree candidates about to graduate. Instead of a discourse it consisted of a plant design that encompassed all of what they'd learned during their first four years.

"You'll get through it," Rich said. "You've got the chops for it."

It was true. Jim had always been a good student and often tutored his less-talented fraternity brothers.

"No time to back off now," Jim said.

"You can do it," Rich repeated.

"Winning the Track letter might be more of a long shot," Jim admitted. "I need ten points and last year I just barely made it."

Jim liked being on the Track and Field team. He could do most of the workouts early in the morning, before class, which left most of the time for academics. He played football and basketball in high school, too, but those sports meant a big time commitment. Five years ago the football coach asked him to walk on and Jim had turned him down. It had been a tough decision. 

Track wasn't Jim's best sport. His only event was the Pole Vault. He had a final year of eligibility because he had to sit out a year after injuring his shoulder when he was a sophomore. He missed his letter as a junior but made it as a senior. A member of the Track and Field Team had to earn ten points during the season, based on placing in the track meets. Jim worked hard, but at the level he was competing an occasional third was his best hope and Third Place was usually only worth one point.

"Maybe you should try to get into a second event," Rich said, "like a relay or something."

Jim nodded. It wasn't a bad idea.

"We haven't talked about the main thing," Rich said.

"Main thing?"

"C'mon, man, you know what I'm talking about. You were going to resolve a certain—uh—physical deficiency over the summer."

Of course Jim knew what the 'main thing' was. He and Rich had talked about it over a few beers many-a-time before they parted for their summer jobs. Jim had been dreading the question as he drove the Rustmobile from his parents' home to the apartment overlooking the University town that day. He didn't think it would come up so soon, although he should have realized that it would.

"Oh, that," Jim started, "Well..."

"I already know the answer by the way you're avoiding it," Rich said.

Rich was more experienced in sex than Jim. It was no secret. In fact, he was a lot more experienced. If they gave out Master's Degrees for bedding pretty co-eds, then Rich would probably be a candidate for it. But, alas, Mechanical Engineering would have to do.

"Well, I tried," Jim pled. "I tried hard—and I nearly hit pay dirt, too. But in the end things just didn't work out."

Rich shook his head. He'd heard the 'almost made it' stories from Jim a number of times. But, they were fraternity brothers, bound to mutual understanding, and Rich was a patient man.

"Well, what happened this time?" he asked.

Jim drew a deep breath.

"I was dating this girl named Hildy for most of the summer. In fact, I just saw her night before last. She's a receptionist at the company I worked for last summer."

"A working girl," Rich proclaimed, "sounds promising."

"It was," Jim went on. "One night I had her in my car. Her panties were down around her ankles and my pants were down around mine. I was on top of her, ready to go in. At the last second, I just couldn't do it."

Rich shook his head and stared out the window.

"How could you not do it?"

"Well, I didn't have any Trojans and I asked her if she was on the pill. She said 'no' and a chill ran down my spine. I backed off."

"Didn't want to hear the 'pitter-patter' of little receptionist feet? I can understand that. But why didn't you go for it another time?"

"She let it slip that she's a virgin, too. I didn't want to pop her cherry in a car in a parking lot. She might have regretted it, and remembered me in a bad way for the rest of her life as the guy who popped her when she didn't want to be popped."

Rich was laughing to himself and shaking his head again.

"You'll never learn. All girls guard their cherries, but they're all glad it happened after the deed is done. It takes a big load off their shoulders. They're a lot happier when it's over. They can relax because they don't have anything to guard anymore."

"I don't know, Rich..."

Jim's friend turned and faced him all of a sudden.

"You didn't let her know that you're a virgin, too, did you?"

Jim shook his head.

Rich settled back down.

"Good," he said, "never admit that."

He opened the refrigerator and drew out two more cans of beer.

"We're going to have to deal with this," Rich said. "I think I'm going to have to give Ashley a call."

********************** 

Jim always appreciated the help and advice from his friends, and especially from Rich, whom he had known so long. 

"Ashley—are you sure it has to be Ashley?"

"Yup," Rich pronounced as he gulped down a swallow of beer. "Ashley's the best for this job."

"But, Ashley..."

"Who else would you suggest?" Rich shot back at him.

Ashley Woods was a coed starting her senior year at the University. She was one of the girls who hung around the fraternity house. Jim knew her a little, but not real well.

She had good looks. Her makeup was always perfect, so her face was always set in the classic beauty look, framed by jet-black hair that reached past her shoulders. She was average in height with a slender form. Despite her thin build, she had ample volume inside her bra. It pressed out against her always-tightly-tucked-in blouse in an aggressive pose that served as an introduction to men whom she hadn't yet met.

"She's in town," Rich went on, "arrived a few days ago. I helped her move in her furniture."

Ashley had a nickname the fraternity brothers called her when she wasn't within earshot. It was 'Thunderpussy'—and she didn't acquire the nickname by owning a cat who made a lot of noise. 

"Who else would you suggest?" Rich asked again after emptying the last drops out of his beer can.

Jim sighed. He knew Rich was determined.

"Well, I thought that Hildy and I were heading in that direction when the time was right..."

"And you are," Rich insisted. "In the meantime you owe it to this Hildy-person to get some experience under your belt so you can break her in right."

What Rich said seemed to make sense to Jim, but something wasn't fitting together just the right way. He sat in a chair, nursing his beer, thinking it over. One advantage about Ashley was that she never expected anything more from her bed partners except breakfast the next morning.

"Then, it's settled," Rich shouted, seizing the moment of indecision. "Ashley will do a fantastic job for you, too. She's looking forward to it. She has her eye on you. I spoke to her about it the other day after I helped her with her furniture. 

"Spoke to her?" Jim gasped. "You didn't tell about my problem, did you?"

Well, yeah," Rich admitted. "I had to."

"You told me never admit that to anyone," Jim answered.

"I know," Rich said, "but Ashley has this thing she does with her tongue. When she does that a man is helpless."

"And she did it to you the other night?"

"She sure did," Rich replied with a big grin. "Besides, this problem thing of yours has Ashley all revved up. She can hardly wait."

Jim knew he was roped in, and the tongue-thing had him curious.

"I owe it to Hildy, like you said."

Jim finished his beer and started putting his things away. In the background he could hear Rich phoning Ashley and inviting her and her roommate out to their apartment for a casual dinner and some drinks and music.

"All set," Rich announced as Jim was stowing the last of his gear.

**************** 

Jim would have liked to say that it had been a leisurely dinner with lots of good conversation. That wouldn't have been accurate. It seemed like the meal was a preliminary exercise, a formality to be serviced and then put aside.

After the four of them finished their dinners they decided to go into the living room for some drinks.

"Hey, we don't have any wine," Rich exclaimed. "For sure, these girls don't want beer."

"Well, we've got some scotch," Jim said. "They could mix it with ginger ale, or something."

The two girls looked at one another and made a face.

"We don't have any ginger ale, either," Rich corrected. "We need wine."

Jim shrugged. He hadn't thought of it. It occurred to him that Hildy wouldn't have been so finicky.

"I'm going into the bathroom to powder my nose," Ashley said. "You three figure out what to do."

"I know," Rich said. "Chelsea and I can take a drive into town and find a liquor store. You and Ashley stay here and find some music to listen to."

"You better hurry up before the liquor stores close," Ashley yelled out from the bathroom.

Rich took Chelsea by the hand and as quick as that, they were gone. Jim pawed through some records while Ashley stayed silent in the bathroom.

For sure, they would want to play the Moody Blues album, and maybe a Fifth Dimension. He was wondering if he would have to ease into the act with Ashley, or if she would be ready to go. 

He kept looking through the albums, reminding himself that he wasn't selecting music that he liked, but for the mood.

"They're not coming back, you know."

It was Ashley, having emerged from the bathroom. He had nearly forgotten that she was in the apartment, he was so engrossed in the music selection. She was making her way over to him, standing at the stereo, in a slow walk. Jim noticed that she had fixed her makeup, applied some perfume and released her hair which had been tied back in a pony tail. 

The black tresses flowed over her shoulders, in contrast with her white blouse. He also noted that she had taken off her bra. She was sure a lot different from Hildy.

"I figured that," Jim said.

He stood there, not knowing how to get started, hoping that she might lead the way. The sun was beginning to set. Jim tried to read the expression on her face, but in the semi-darkness it was no use.

"Do you want me to go, too?" she asked.

"No, of course not."

"Good," she replied, "I was hoping not."

By that time she had sidled up next to him, as close as they could be without touching. It was time, he knew, and she was going to make him make it happen.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked.

"Maybe later; not now."

"Do you want to see what I picked out for music?"

She leaned even closer, leaning against him. Jim thought he could feel her braless breasts pressing against him. What did it matter? Soon he would have them in his hands. Her perfume smelled strong and it seemed to make him dizzy. He wondered if she could hear his heart pounding, like he could.

"Surprise me," she whispered in his ear, and as he was about to take her in his arms she floated onto the coach.

Jim flipped the switch and The Moody Blues dropped onto the turntable to help him. In a few seconds "Voices in the Sky" would start getting them in the mood. By the time "Om" was finished his problem would be solved. 

******************* 

Jim was a guy who liked to make sure that he did things well. 

Ashley was quick to arouse. As they were making out on the couch she pressed harder against him. She was panting and her perfume was stronger than ever. Jim thought, at first, it was The Moody Blues. She had unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse and he reached inside. He helped himself to a handful and it seemed to set Ashley on fire. They might not make to "Om". 

"What would be the right time to move to the bedroom?" he asked himself.

He decided that Rich had been right about Ashley's libido. He had never known Hildy to be so excited. He felt her unbuckling his belt.

"Would you like to move to the bedroom?" he asked her.

She kept struggling with the zipper and it seemed like she hadn't heard him. She pushed him back so that she could line it up better. Jim wished that she'd wait until they got into the bedroom. It would have been so undignified to shuffle in with his pants around his ankles.

"I'm so horny," she gasped. "I want it."

It seemed like she was expecting a lot from him and he became unsure of himself.

"Ashley," he said as she undid the button on his jeans, "maybe I should tell you something."

"What's that?" she answered as she was nudging him to lift up so she could pull his jeans down.

"You seem to be expecting a lot out of this and I...I don't know how to say this—I don't have..."

She stopped for a moment.

"You're trying to tell me you've never done it," she confirmed. "That's why I'm so horny."

"I don't get it."

She stopped again and made a face at the delay.

"It's like this," she began. "I get to have your first one. Girls don't get many chances at this. Most guys are more experienced by the time we get to them. And as we get older the chances get fewer and farther between."

"I never thought about it that way."

Ashley ignored him. 

"When we're done, I'll have it—you're first lay. And you'll never have sex with another girl without comparing her to me."

"And, believe me," she added as if to reassure him, "I know what I'm doing, so when you start comparing I'll come out on top every time."

Ashley looked at him for a moment, as if expecting another question. She resumed tugging his jeans down over his hips.

"So that's it?" Jim asked.

Ashley sat up straight and huffed 

"Maybe you'd better get me that drink now. All these questions have gotten me out of the mood."

Jim searched in a cabinet and found the bottle of scotch he'd offered earlier in the evening. He clinked some ice cubes in a glass, poured some whiskey over the ice and offered her the glass, which she took from him.

"Ice and everything, how suave," she said and than tossed down the whole shot in one gulp. 

For a reason that Jim couldn't understand, Jim recalled Hildy and how she'd turned down another mixed drink at the Shakespeare Room.

"Now that you're standing up you can push those jeans down the rest of the way," Ashley sneered. "Take the boxers with them. Let's get on with it."

Jim looked down at his unbuttoned jeans, and then Ashley, whose face seemed less eager than it had a few minutes before.

"Look, Ashley," Jim said, "I appreciate you trying to do this for me and..."

Ashley sprang up from the couch and bounded to where Jim was standing. She grabbed his open jeans and began pulling them down.

"It's okay; I said a few things I shouldn't have. We'll get things going again. Let's go into the bedroom."

She let go of Jim's jeans and unbuttoned her blouse the rest of the way.

"It's just that I was listening to what you were saying and I started thinking of someone else. It's this girl I met..."

Ashley's eyes got big and she bit her lower lip.

"You're turning me down?" she yelled.

"Shhh, Ashley. My landlord will hear you."

"No one turns me down!"

"Really, Ashley, it wouldn't be fair to you and...."

"I'm going in the bedroom and you'd better be right behind me," she said as she wagged her finger at him.

With that she marched away from him into the bedroom. Jim stayed behind. He waited for her for about three minutes although it seemed longer. He rebuttoned his jeans and buckled his belt .

Ashley emerged from the bedroom. Her blouse was buttoned again.

"You'll regret this," she hissed as she marched past him.

She slammed the door as she left and a half minute later Jim heard her car start.

"Drive safely, Ashley," he said, although no one was there to hear him. 

He was happy with his decision, although his problem remained unsolved.

He sighed because he knew that he would never experience Ashley's tongue thing, but it would just have to be that way.

He had a new plan. He would ask Hildy to visit him for a football weekend. The first one would be in three weeks.

************************ 

TO BE CONTINUED



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 04



Chapter 4 — Time of Reckoning

September 1973

Jim had learned over the years that there times when he would do things and have second thoughts afterward. When that happened he would think over what he should have done and faced up to the consequences of his own acts.

"Thunderpussy is sure mad at you," Rich told him as he slurped down a cup of coffee. 

He stretched and the muscles in his shoulders pressed at his tee shirt. 

"She came storming in to her apartment just as Chelsea and I were starting to relate to one another."

"I can't say that I'm surprised," Jim answered. "Maybe I can talk to her..."

"Don't bother," was all Rich would say.

Jim knew that he'd disappointed a lot of people. Rich was the obvious one, who had set up the whole encounter with Ashley. He had left with Chelsea thinking that he'd solved Jim's problem once and for all.

Of course Ashley was most disappointed of all. She'd had Jim in her sights and he, somehow, gave her the slip at the last moment. She had to accept that Jim would never be comparing his lovers to her for the rest of his life.

"Can't forget Chelsea."

Ashley's roommate and understudy had long been eager to slip between the sheets with Rich. But, Ashley was a very competitive person and always seemed to seize the moment before Chelsea could make her move. Chelsea must have thought that her big chance had finally arrived and then been snatched away from her. 

The final person was himself. If he had carried through he would be making breakfast for Ashley that very moment. His problem would have been solved (and then some). He wouldn't be waiting for Rich to get back on his case for squandering his best opportunity to join the ranks of the initiated. After all, Ashley wasn't so bad—and he had stood a good chance at experiencing that tongue thing that Rich spoke about.

"Sorry I messed things up," Jim said before Rich could finish off his coffee. "I'm sorry about you and Chelsea, too."

"Don't be sorry about that," Rich replied with a big grin on his face. "After Ashley burst in she told us the whole story. Then, we had to console her."

"Console her? What do you mean by that?"

"You know," Rich said, "help her get her equilibrium back, get her straightened out. It took a lot of consoling. It turned out that she could only be consoled in the nude. Chelsea and I were already nude."

"I think I've got the picture," Jim said. "So, it was Rich Garland to the rescue."

"It's not how I planned it," Rich went on, "but sometimes a man's got to adapt, and I know just how to do that when things need to get done."

"Well, it looks like everyone's getting laid but me," Jim sighed.

"It's your problem now," Rich answered. "I tried my best. You're going to have to work it out for yourself. In the meantime, I didn't get any sleep last night, so I need you to make me another pot of coffee."

"Then, you're not mad?" Jim asked as Rich marched down the hallway toward the bathroom.

"No, not really," he answered over his shoulder. "I think I pushed too hard. My way might have worked, but it didn't. You need to work things out for yourself your own way."

Jim dumped out the old grounds and spooned some new ones in the percolator. 

"So, I was right after all."

He plugged in the coffee pot and then raised his arms to stretch. He reached for the ceiling—he reached hard. Perhaps it was something beyond the ceiling. It was difficult to tell. He put his arms down and his body felt relaxed and comfortable. A stretch of the body or soul was always good for a person's own comfort, inside or out.

Rich came out of the bathroom and made his way to the coffee that was just finishing and poured some into his cup. He was blowing away the steam rising from the surface, sipping in some the hot liquid.

"I'm going to invite Hildy to come down for the Colgate game," Jim announced.

"Sounds fine to me," Rich replied. "Are you going to take her to the fraternity party, too?"

"I think so, at least for a little while."

"Up to you," Rich said. "I don't know if that's what I would do."

Jim understood what Rich meant. Post-game parties at the frat lodge were for young men trying to make time with cute sorority girls, rock bands with oversized speakers and cute sorority girls competing with each other. The parties didn't attract many receptionists and fifth year students.

"I see what you mean," Jim said. "It wouldn't look right to go to the game and then skip out on the party."

"What do you care what it looks like?" Rich answered. "The younger guys would be worried about what things look like to you, if there was any justice in this world."

So often, Rich had the answers.

"But, there is seldom justice," Jim said. "I'll keep up my end and worry about the rest later."

Rich nodded and bent down over his coffee. Jim knew that soon he would be sprawled across the couch catching on his lost sleep from the night before. It was the Sunday before Labor Day. Classes would be starting in two days. Jim decided to go to the campus bookstore and hunt for his textbooks. He began thinking about his first class, Advanced Thermodynamics. He had an idea for his Final project, too and would stop in to see his advisor after class.

As he was driving down the hill toward the campus he thought about what he would plan for Hildy's visit. It would be important to get things just right. The thought crept into his brain that she might not come.

"We'll put it to the test." 

If not, perhaps reconciliation with Ashley would be in order. He knew how she would make it hard for him, but in the end she would give in. They didn't call her Thunderpussy for nothing, and what was the use of having a nickname like that if you didn't trade on it? Perhaps the aborted coupling would make Ashley twice as eager to please. And, maybe he would get in on that tongue thing after all. 

As he stopped at a light he chased the thought away.

"I'm pretty sure that Hildy will come."

************************** 

Hildy was late—by just a little. Jim began pacing, just the same.

"Maybe she got lost trying to find the place."

"Would you relax?" Rich scolded. "She's only fifteen minutes late. And, if she can get on the right road, that Rustmobile of yours out in the driveway is sure to guide her in.

"I suppose," Jim said, "but I hate to think of spending all of yesterday cleaning up the apartment and then getting stood up."

"It was two hours," Rich corrected, "and the place needed it. I was beginning to think the Health Department might condemn us. Now, stop pacing. You're making me nervous."

Rich was waiting for Hildy to arrive. After saying 'hello' and a few minutes for pleasantries he intended to disappear and leave the apartment to Jim and his date. He planned to go the game, of course, and had a pair of tickets but no date, so he had some work to do. 

"Hello, anyone home?"

It was Hildy. She bounded down the terrace steps outside the apartment.

"In here, Hildy," Jim yelled back as he was scrambling for the door.

He hadn't seen her for over three weeks. He knew he was being silly, of course, but wondered if she looked the same as she had when he saw her in August. 

"I hope she didn't change her hair or something."

Women got a little crazy when it came to things like that, in Jim's experience, and three weeks apart could make for a lot of changes.

He finally caught sight of her. She was smiling and Jim felt better. She hadn't changed her hair, and he liked that, too. What he saw behind her he didn't like. It meant complications and his careful plans cast awry, failure. 

"I brought Darlene with me," she said. 

Jim braced himself. He had nothing against Darlene. He only knew her a little. He knew she was Hildy's best friend, and that was fine. The only question was, 'Why Darlene now?'

"Hi, Darlene; nice to see you."

They went inside where Rich was waiting. Jim introduced Hildy and Darlene. He could see that Rich was surprised at how tall Hildy was. Rich was six-two, making Hildy almost as tall as he was. He was looking at her, and Jim could tell in other times and circumstances Rich would be thinking certain thoughts. Jim noticed Rich turning his attention to Darlene.

Darlene could hold her own in the looks department. She wasn't as tall as Hildy, by far, nor as slender. She had a pleasant face and wavy chestnut hair, which she tied back. Her buxom figure had a way of saying 'come on in'. 

"Let's give them the tour," Rich said.

It was a short tour: bathroom, bedroom, bedroom, living room, kitchen, end of tour. Jim suggested they go outside so he could show them the view of the town below and the University across the valley.

"Do you mind if I use the ladies' room first?" Darlene asked. "It was a long drive.

She didn't wait for an answer, but made her way down the hallway. Hildy stepped outside with Jim. Rich stayed in the kitchen.

"See the stadium over there on the slope on the right?" Jim asked. "That's where we'll be in about an hour."

"My parents insisted that I bring Darlene along," Hildy explained without waiting for the question.

"We have a baby-sitter?" Jim sneered. 

"Not a baby-sitter," Hildy insisted, "more like a chaperone."

Jim could tell that Hildy was upset.

"I'm sorry, Hildy," he said. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just that..."

"I understand," Hildy said, "but that's not all. They made Darlene and me get a motel room. I have to show them the receipt when I get home."

"Receipt? Is that what they think of you? I would have told them to take a hike." 

Hildy's lip was quivering. She was trying not to cry. Jim knew he had gone too far.

"They're my parents," she mumbled. "They might not think much of me, but they're my parents, just the same."

Jim put his arm around her shoulder.

"It's alright, Hildy. Let's just forget it for a while. Right now I've got to get a few things arranged that I wasn't expecting."

"Like what?"

"For starters, we need three tickets to the football game, and I have only two."

"I knew this would go all wrong," Hildy blurted out, and this time he thought that she was really going to cry.

"Don't worry. Rich has an extra ticket that he's not planning to use. I'll buy it from him."

They went back inside the apartment. Darlene had emerged from the ladies' room by that time. She and Rich were in the kitchen talking and laughing.

"Jim, this is perfect," Rich said as Jim and Hildy walked through the door. "Darlene's going to use my spare ticket to the game. After the game we thought that we'd stop at the frat lodge for a drink or two and then come back here and grill some steaks."

"Perfect!" Jim agreed. "Where are your seats?"

"Section H-5. What about you?"

"C-3. It looks like we'll have to split up when we get to the stadium and meet up at the frat lodge later."

"Fretloje"" Hildy asked with that confused look that he'd seen before. 

"I'll explain later," Darlene said. 

***************** 

Some people thought that Jim was too serious when he was at parties. They told him that he should have more fun. He tried, but it wasn't always easy.

Jim parked in the fraternity's parking lot and left his car there and he and Hildy walked the half-mile to the stadium. It beat paying for parking in the stadium lot, with an after-game traffic jam on the side. Better yet, it was the perfect setup to pop into the house for an after game drink and then make a quick escape at the right moment. 

Jim and Hildy did meet Darlene and Rich at the gate after the game and they walked down the hill together. As they ambled down fraternity row they could hear the delighted squeals of co-eds as fraternity brothers from the various houses chased after them. Their own House was not far off. As they approached a little closer it became apparent by the noise that the after-game party was already under way. It didn't matter that Campbell had won, which was usual when they played Colgate, the after game parties had their own life. Jim was unsure that he wanted to go inside but he wanted to give Hildy the total football weekend experience, so he took her inside just the same. Rich and Darlene were stopping in, too. 

The parlor furniture and carpet had been moved aside to prepare for the band that would arrive later. The bare hardwood floor made the house even noisier that it would have been. In the foyer there was a set up of a beer keg and a punch bowl with some punch glasses inverted on a white tablecloth. The brothers and their dates, and also some as yet unattached co-eds and brothers were milling about carrying fresh drinks.

"What's in the punchbowl?" Hildy asked.

"They're called 'Silver Moons'," Jim explained. "Vodka, grapefruit juice and confectioner's sugar."

"What proportion?" Hildy asked.

"Depends who's making it."

"I think I'll pass," Hildy said "Can I have a beer instead?"

Jim drew two beers from the keg. As he looked around he saw Ashley and Chelsea standing together in a corner drinking Silver Moons. He surmised that they weren't yet attached for the evening, although that was sure to change after the band started. 

"That girl is looking like she knows you," Hildy said when Jim handed her the beer.

Sure enough, Hildy was referring to Ashley, who was giving Jim the eye, but not in an admiring way. It had been three weeks and Jim had thought that Ashley would have gotten over her disappointment. 

"There are things that some people never get over."

"Hildy, it's a fraternity house. I know everybody." 

"Well, she's looking at you like she doesn't like you—or maybe she doesn't like me."

Ashley and Chelsea started whispering to one another and giggling. Then they made faces that appeared to mock an unknown entity. 

"I think they're making fun of your date," Hildy said.

Of course, it was true. If he confronted them they would only deny it—after making a scene. 

"No, I don't think so," Jim said.

Every time he told Hildy a little white lie it backfired on him, and this little lie had backfire written all over it. 

"I know they're a lot prettier than me," Hildy said, "and smarter, too. I guess they've got their reasons.

"C'mon, Hildy, you're starting to sound like your father—and he's given me enough trouble today already."

His answer seemed to placate Hildy, but he wondered if it really did. He looked around the crowd to see if he could find Mr. Barker and his wife. He was the fraternity adviser and usually attended the post-game mixers. He always tried to say 'hello' to him because Mr. Barker had done a lot for him in his early years at the school.

Rich and Darlene walked up to them. 

"We better get moving. We need to stop at the grocery store on our way back out to the apartment. It's going to be dark soon.

"I was looking for Mr. Barker. Then we'll get going."

"The Barker's didn't make it," Rich said. "Out of town commitment."

"Then I guess that we're outta here."

Jim looked over his shoulder as they left. Ashley was still in the same corner with Chelsea. He saw her mouth an expletive and then shake her fist at him, he thought, or possibly some other hand gesture..

"She really needs to get over it—and soon." 

He turned away from her and caught up with Rich and the girls. Soon they were on their way back to the apartment.

********************** 

Anytime Jim squandered an opportunity to accomplish his mission he felt bad, but he had started to find that it was sometimes difficult to determine what his mission really was.

Rich and Jim's landlord had an outdoor barbecue pit built in the back yard that he let them use. Even though the autumn air had turned chilly the fire was hot enough as they crowded around it. The old landlord even came down to say 'hello', which was probably his way of collecting a free beer, which Jim and Rich attributed to a quid pro quo for using the barbecue.

At any rate the landlord was a good guy and he was nice to their dates. Everyone was hitting it off rather well and Jim found himself almost glad that Hildy brought Darlene along. She turned out to be more of a live wire than Jim would have expected a chaperone to be. 

After they finished dinner and dishes they were deciding what to do with the rest of their night.

"We could go down to the frat lodge for a while and see what's happening at the party," Rich said.

No one said anything at first.

"You're kidding aren't you?" Jim asked.

"I felt I had to ask it out of loyalty to the fraternity," Rich answered.

"We could play some music and have a few drinks right here," Hildy said.

So it was decided. 

"I'll take care of the music. Rich, you pour the drinks."

Jim decided to skip The Moody Blues, remembering that album with the unfortunate experience with Ashley several weeks before. He scrolled through the stack of LP's. First Dimension, Beautiful Day—they were good, but not quite right. After a couple more flips he hit the jackpot: The Association. Their dreamy harmonies and lyrics were a bit too sappy for Jim's taste, but, they would do the job.

"This and a couple of drinks will get Hildy in the mood."

The disk hit the turntable and Rich handed a drink to Hildy and then one to Jim. Darlene was already working on hers. 

"I thought we would have something special," Rich said after everyone had their drinks. "Beer would be too heavy after a big dinner."

Jim couldn't tell what was in the small glass in the faded light. He thought at first it was from the bottle of scotch. He raised it to his lips. The liquid sent fumes into his nostrils and he liked them.

"That's not scotch," he said, before he had even tasted it.

"It's cognac," Rich said. "It's from my father's private stock."

"He gave it to you?" Jim asked.

"He would have if I'd asked him, but he wasn't around when I was packing." 

Jim looked at the two girls who were sipping away and not paying attention to the conversation between Jim and Rich.

"I brought these snifters, too."

"Can't drink cognac without a snifter," Jim agreed.

"Oh, I like it," Hildy said.

"You can feel the fumes before you even sip any of it," Darlene added. "I'm going to have some more."

She found the bottle on the kitchen counter and poured a refill. She claimed a seat on the sofa, took in some more of the fuming liquid and then leaned back and closed her eyes as the music played.

"I love this group," she said in a dreamy voice.

Rich took the seat on the sofa beside her.

"I love this group, too," Hildy said.

There was only a single sofa, so Jim spread a blanket out on the carpet on the other side of the living room.

"We can sit together on this," he said, and Hildy slipped off her shoes and eased herself down. She set her drink on the floor alongside the blanket.

"And we can lean back on these," Jim said.

He had found some cushions from a couple of easy chairs He put them in place and Hildy eased back. Jim sat next to her.

Jim put his arm around Hildy's shoulder and she relaxed against him. He turned his face toward her and kissed her on the forehead. Hildy purred a bit, so he kissed her again on the lips. Hildy hugged him around the waist.

"This is nice," she said in a low voice.

Jim had to agree and they stayed like that, occasionally shifting to be more comfortable, exchanging a kiss or a caress from time to time. In between, they would sip on their snifters of cognac. It was a strong taste, so a small amount at a time was all they needed. The drinks would last a long time. 

Jim couldn't see Rich and Darlene on the sofa from the angle he was at. They were quiet at first. Jim figured that they were getting better acquainted. After a while, he heard some muffled sounds from time to time and then Darlene tried to stifle a giggle.

"Hey Jim," Rich said after several more minutes, "Darlene just told me that their motel room has a fantastic painting of Elvis on the wall. We're going to go and check it out."




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 04



Darlene giggled again.

"I'll leave you the cognac," he added.

In a less than a minute Rich and Darlene had departed on their art appreciation project.

"I guess we've got the place all to ourselves," Jim said.

"Good guess," Hildy replied. 

She started laughing and Jim could see that the cognac had a relaxing effect on her. He retrieved the bottle from the coffee table in front of the sofa and refilled their snifters.

"Want to move to the sofa?" he asked.

Hildy shook her head. 

"I like it right here," she said.

Jim took his place alongside her again and shifted his weight to be more comfortable. Hildy took another swallow of her cognac. He leaned over close to her.

"Things worked out pretty well this weekend," he said,

He turned on his side and put his arm around her. He nudged her so that she would slide down further on the blanket and would be flat on her back. She did as his nudges suggested and when he dropped down to kiss her she didn't resist him— although she seemed less relaxed.

At first, her rigidity served to reinforce his image of her physical tone. He looked forward to the moment that he would actually have his hands and eyes on it, unfettered by clothing, and she would feel his own strong body as they pressed skin on warm skin. But as he surveyed her he noticed that she seemed less happy than when they were cuddling to the music with an occasional kiss. 

"It's her first time, she's probably nervous," Jim explained away the change to himself. 

He was nervous, too, but less than what he would have expected. It was all working out so well. He thought about how it had been so right to wait until the setup could be perfect, like it was at that moment. He'd been so wise to pass up his chance with Ashley, tempting as it had been. 

All the parking lots and seats of Plymouths and Pontiac Catalinas seemed so second rate and, to his credit, he had avoided them. Even Hildy's father's attempted machinations of a separate motel room had worked in his favor. If Darlene hadn't signaled the green light to Hildy, then nothing ever would.

"Timing is everything," he thought in self-congratulation.

His remaining task was to get Hildy ready. He would be patient. He would be slow and thorough in bringing her along. The music would help. The third disc had already dropped onto the turntable. Soon, he thought, she would be as hot and wanting as Ashley had been, except that it would be his artwork on Hildy's canvass that would elevate her to that point while Ashley put her own self there. 

He liked it more this way. There would be the right moment when he would whisper that they should retire to the bedroom where he'd put fresh, clean sheets on the bed that morning and hidden his package of Lubricated Trojans in the drawer of the nightstand.

All that was necessary was more patience. 

"I know what you're expecting," she said without warning as he ended a long kiss and began caressing her bare arms.

He said nothing. He knew what she meant, and she was correct, of course. He wondered if a polite denial might be in order—a chance for her to convince him to carry through what they'd already started. Before he could utter the little white lie he stopped because he remembered how he regretted each little untruth he told her.

"The time is right," he answered. "Rich and Darlene won't be back. I've got protection in the bedroom."

"I can't," she replied. "I should have told you. My period started on the way down here this morning. We had to stop at a gas station so I could take care of it. That's why we were late. I'm sorry."

Jim didn't answer. It was hard to believe that everything could have been set up so well, and then gone so bad. It wasn't her fault, of course, and he wanted to be angry for not warning him earlier, but he could not force himself to be angry with her. He just let out a big breath to let her be sure of his frustration.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. 

She sounded as though she might be getting upset, but Jim didn't say anything.

"I could take off my blouse and bra," she offered. "At least you'd get something."

It was a tempting offer. It would be First Base—or maybe Second Base. It would be better than a strikeout, and he'd never seen or touched her breasts. 

"That's okay, Hildy, it would be like dumping out the ice cream and eating the cone."

He felt her laughing under him and he knew he had decided the right way.

"That's an interesting way to put it," she said. 

She took a swallow of her cognac.

"Something always seems to get in our way," she continued. "It's not fair. I know you expected something different..."

"Hildy, all I expected from you is that you would be here with me and be the beautiful, sweet person that you always are—and you have truly done that."

The final record ended and the turntable clicked off, distracting them for a few seconds.

"That was a nice thing to say," she countered, "but if you really meant it you would have said it when I first told you. I know that you had something else in mind. It's okay; I understand."

Ouch! Those little white lies were stinging him again. It was his own doing, not hers, for they were his own little lies.

"But it was a nice thing to say," she said.

Her forgiveness didn't make Jim feel any better, for he asked himself what he might have done to earn forgiveness. 

"Hildy, you're right," he confessed, "but it's what I should have said and that's what I say now and I mean it, if you can accept that."

She reached up to him from where she was lying. She put her hand around the back of his neck and drew him down to her. Jim relaxed and settled down next to her. They settled on the floor, embraced, being with one another.

Jim wondered if there was a point to it all—foreplay with no end design. But he was enjoying it, just the same. He noticed that when they kissed her lips had become soft and pliant. They were warm and he felt the muscles of her face and lips relax. She opened her mouth to him and she tasted sweet like the cognac that was still on her tongue. He liked the way her legs and back and arms had become loosened as though she had convinced herself that she had no need of any defense. 

They molded together,, lying on their sides, faces touching. Hildy's skin was warm. Jim felt warm, too, and not just on his skin. They said no words, but she made little purring sounds from time to time that became more insistent at any instance he attempted to pull away from her. It wasn't the result Jim had expected not long before, but it occurred to him that he was glad to be where he was.

After a little while she lifted her top leg over and around his. Jim could not think of a way to get pressed against her any closer. They stayed there, floating wherever a tide or gust of wind might take them. There were no sails, no rudder taking them to any destination, in particular. 

After a while Jim noticed that Hildy's breathing had become deep and regular and she had ceased pressing her lips against his. He drew himself out of her arms with great care so as not to wake her. She looked comfortable enough, so Jim went into the bedroom and came out with a heavy blanket that he put over her. She didn't even stir when he did it. He poured himself another cognac and sat down next to her and watched her sleep. He could tell that she was dreaming, but what about?

Perhaps it was the painting of Elvis and what Darlene and Rich were up to at the motel, but he doubted it. Was it about what might have been, or what had been? Did she think that she was still in his arms? He was regretting having gotten up from their sleepy embrace but he didn't know how to re-engage without waking her. He wondered if it was an experience that they might recreate at a later time, or if it could happen to them only once, and if so, should he be grateful or sorry that it was over?

He watched as her body floated up and down with the rhythm of sleep. As he sipped his cognac he heard his voice speaking in his head.

"Hildy, one day we will make love to one another at a time ay and place that we will choose, without regret or guilt or shame or fear of being found out. It will be ours and it will be right for us to have it.

TO BE CONTINUED 



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 05



Chapter 5 -- Merry Christmas

December 1973

Jim knew that life and all its events was a proposition of give and take. He strove to hold up his end by giving, lest he err in the taking.

It was his last chance.

It was nine in the evening and the stores would be open for anther thirty minutes. It would be no good to wait until the next day. The next day would be December 24 and he planned to use that as a travel day. Besides, as he looked around the big box store he could see that the shelves were starting to look sparse.

"I'd like to kick myself in the ass for waiting until the last minute."

There was no time for that. He had given up trying to find something within his budget at the downtown department store. He gave up and pushed his car through holiday traffic to the discount store in the edge-of-town plaza. It was tough sledding.

"I don't know anything about shopping," he reminded himself, as if he needed reminding.

"I'm going to buy one of these wallets," he told the clerk who approached him. "I'm just deciding on brown or black."

The clerk opened the glass case and brought out one of each so Jim could look closer. 

"Who's it for?" he asked.

"My Dad," Jim answered.

The clerk nodded. 

"Brown is a little more casual," the clerk told him.

"Black, then," Jim said. "My Dad's a salesman. He wears a suit to work every day."

The clerk nodded again and placed the wallet in its box and handed it to Jim. 

"You can pay for it at one of the registers at the front of the store."

"Thanks," Jim said, but the clerk was already walking away.

"He probably hasn't done his shopping, either, and is kicking himself in the ass."

The selection made Jim feel a bit more confident. There was one down and two to go, his mother and Hildy. He had no idea what he would buy them, but he knew for sure it would be in that store.

He hadn't seen Hildy since her visit for the Colgate game. If he had gone to visit her, he thought, maybe he would have a better idea what to give her. His mother asked him what he planned to give her at Thanksgiving when Jim made a one day visit for the big feast. She told him to give it some thought and plan ahead, but Jim didn't listen. He was sure that something just right would show itself at the right moment.

"It's the right moment now, so show yourself. 

He was stuck; it was his own fault and he knew it.

He would like to say that he missed her—and he did—but he had also been busy. In fact, most students had left the campus nearly a week ago with the semester finals completed. Jim stayed behind to work on his final project which had been approved by the faculty committee. Even Rich had left for New Jersey several days before. 

Tomorrow he would make the two-hour trek to his parents' home (the dauntless Rustmobile willing). The day after Christmas he already had a date made with Hildy and he would give her the present then.

He was in the Men's Department, so he knew he had to move—somewhere. As he walked, the smell of perfume became stronger. He followed his nose. The further he walked, the scent increased in strength.

"Are you looking for cologne or perfume?" a lady behind the class counter asked.

He paused for a moment, not having realized that he was looking for either.

"I can't honestly say that I know the difference," he answered. 

She reminded Jim of the manikins in the store. She was about forty, thin, with a needle nose. Jim's impression of her was that she had a fancy hairdo and a lot of make-up

She grabbed his wrist without saying another word. She was holding a square bottle with a liquid that was the same color as gasoline. She sprayed a helping of it on his bare skin.

"It's cologne," she told him. "Do you like it?"

He wasn't sure if she meant 'did he like it as a gift idea' or 'did he like the fact that his wrist smelled like perfume'. He thought that, per haps, he should ask her what she meant by question, but he didn't want to be impolite. His answers would have been 'I don't know' and 'no', respectively.

"I don't know enough about this stuff. I can't even tell if this is the high-quality brand or the cheap stuff."

"I have another kind you can sample," the woman said. 

She grabbed for his other wrist. Jim was quick and pulled it back before she could grasp it. Quick to adapt, the saleslady sprayed the liquid in the air and Jim could feel little droplets fall on his forehead.

"What was I saying?" he asked himself. "I'm in a discount store. Of course it's the cheap stuff."

"I'm going to think about it, if it's okay," Jim said.

He backed away from the counter and looked for another venue to continue his search.

"I know one thing. Smelling like this I can't venture outside the Women's Department."

He turned a few corners and something caught his eye. It was a display—kind of like a glorified hat rack—with knit mufflers, hats and gloves. There were a lot of bright colors, which Jim liked. He took a look at the price tags and that was good, too.

"Been sampling cologne?" a voice behind him asked. 

It was another sales lady, a bit older than the one he'd encountered in the perfume area and had a matronly appearance.

"Do I smell that bad?"

"I wouldn't venture into Sporting Goods or Automotive for a little while," she said. "Otherwise, you'll be okay."

"This lady understands me."

"I thought I would try to put together a set of these as a gift."

"Have a color in mind?" the kind lady asked.

Jim thought a minute. The display was the most promising thing he'd seen, and the store was going to close in ten minutes.

"Actually, I need two sets," he explained. "I think I like the red and the green."

The lady set to work, picking out a red set. The hat was in the shape of a tam. The gloves were one-size fits all and the muffler was rolled up but the packaging said it was forty-eight inches, plus fringe.

"There isn't a tam to make a complete green set, the sales lady told him, "but I have a blue set that's nice."

It was a nice blue, sort of a royal blue that pleased the eye.

"The blue one will be fine," he said. 

She handed him the pieces. She must have seen the confusion on his face.

"Sorry, there's no box for them."

Jim thought that for nearly twenty dollars per set they would give him a box. He would have to deal with it. He'd come too far to turn back.

"Maybe you could help with something else," he asked the kind lady. "One set is for my mother and one is for my girlfriend. Which one would give to which?"

"I see," the lady said, but then hesitated.

"She isn't really my girlfriend, just sort of. We met this summer..."

He stopped himself, realizing that his explanation wasn't needed.

"What does your girlfriend look like?"

"Well, she's tall and has real blonde hair. And..."

"Blonde," the lady interrupted. "Then I would give her the blue set."

Jim felt a lot better. 

Thanks, ma'am. Merry Christmas to you," he said and then turned, despite the cologne odor, and headed to the cashiers' area.

************** 

Jim knew the holidays were important to families. As he and his siblings grew older he could tell it meant more and more to his parents. It happened at just the time when he had plans of his own, but he put them aside because he thought it was the right thing to do.

It was a cold, clear night. 

The drive from Jim's parents' house to Hildy's was nearly a half hour. There was snow on the roads from a storm earlier that day so Jim gave himself some extra time so that he wouldn't be late. He was grateful that his father had loaned him his Catalina again. The heater in the Rustmobile was working, but not very well. 

"Put some gas in it this time," his father said as he was on his way out the door.

"Sure, Dad," he replied, "but if you want me to do that you'll have to loan me some money."

He remembered his father heaving a big sigh as he opened his wallet and gave him a twenty.

"I won't need this much..." Jim had begun to say.

"Use the rest to buy that poor girl something nice," he said. "You can't just order hot water and pour in some catsup."

Jim' finances weren't that desperate, of course. He had planned ahead and reserved enough for a nice dinner for two at his favorite diner. He even had enough for a movie afterward.

"Maybe we can get that booth in the back," he was thinking to himself as he drove along. 

He realized he was in Hildy's driveway.

The front yard was covered with snow, right up to and including the steps that led to the porch. The driveway was clear and there was light on at the back of the house. He pulled his car ahead toward where the light was. Hildy's Christmas present was on the seat next to him. He thought of taking it in the house with him, but decided to leave it in the car.

There was a back door and it led into a sort of unheated mud room. Jim clicked his boots together to get any snow off that he could. When he was satisfied that he'd done as well as he could he took off his gloves and knocked on the door.

Hildy's mother answered. She was wearing an apron and an expression that was neither happy nor sad. 

"Come in," she said as she opened the door.

"Good evening, Mrs. Wertz," Jim said as he stepped through the door, "I hope you had a Merry Christmas."

He was in their kitchen. Hildy's father was at the table, reading the newspaper and had a fresh cup of coffee steaming in front of him. Mrs. Wertz shuffled to the sink where she was washing dishes.

"Come in, come in," her father said without looking up.

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Mr. Wertz," Jim said and stuck out his right hand.

The older man still hadn't looked up from the newspaper. He didn't reach out to shake hands with Jim. Jim stood at the table with his hand extended in mid air.

"Same to you," Hildy's father grumbled.

He folded up his paper and sat back in his chair. Jim lowered his hand.

"Well, have a chair, young man."

Jim unzipped his winter jacket and pulled one of the wooden chairs from the table.

"I hope I didn't track in any snow from outside," he said as he sat down, though he knew he'd been careful not to do so. "I would have taken my overshoes off, but all I have on under my boots are my socks and..."

"We'll mop up anything after you and Hildy leave," her father said.

"It's only water," her mother piped up from her position at the sink.

Jim sat still, hoping to hear Hildy coming down the stairs. Instead he could hear the water running in the shower.

"So, you're going to graduate soon," her father told him.

"Yes sir, that's right. I'm in the middle of my final year project. I was working on it over the Thanksgiving break. That's why I couldn't see Hildy then."

Her father grunted under his breath. 

"You see," Jim continued, "It a design for a Bromine plant..." 

"We've got a big project in our shop," her father interrupted. "A big job for Amalgamated Machine; lots of parts; very close tolerances. Of course, you're an engineer. You'd know all about that. Did I tell you I'm a machinist?"

"No," Jim said, "I don't know much about it. Machining would be a job for a Mechanical Engineer. I'm not that. My studies are in Chemical..."

"We had an engineer from Amalgamated in the shop the other day," Mr. Wertz said. "White shirt and tie. You know, the whole outfit. Tried to tell us how to do our job. Turns out, I had to teach him how to read the drawing."

The older man stopped talking, presumably to give Jim time to absorb his point. He sat in his chair, arms folded across his chest peering at Jim through a set of thick-lensed glasses..

"Yes, sir," Jim replied and then said no more. 

It had occurred to Jim that he probably knew enough about machining to tell the old man a thing or two. He, however, preferred to concede the point in a match he had no interest to win. Hildy's father grunted and returned to his paper. Her mother stood at the sink drying the dishes.

Hildy's father sipped his coffee. Jim sat still, wondering if the old guy would ever offer him anything when he picked up Hildy at her house. He didn't really want the coffee, but being polite was important to Jim and it worked in two directions. 

"I get all the free advice I can handle. I'd trade that in for a cup of coffee right now."

Jim watched the second hand make a few tours around the face of the clock. It seemed like an hour, but it was fifteen minutes later when Hildy bounded down the stairs.

"I'm ready to go," she gushed.

"Hildy, why don't you sit down and have some coffee and dessert?" her mother said.

"Mother, I haven't even had dinner yet," Hildy shot back.

"Forget it," her father said. "They just want to get out of here."

"You got that right," Jim was thinking.

He kept silent.

Hildy already had her boots on. She was putting on her coat.

"C'mon," she urged him, half in a whisper.

Jim zipped up his coat and opened the door for her. They were in the mudroom when he heard her father's voice.

"Usual time," he called out after them.

***************** 

"Don't bother, I've got the door," Hildy said as Jim moved toward the passenger's side of the Catalina to open it. 

The driveway was covered with a pack of snow and it crunched under their feet. Hildy's father had irritated Jim even more than usual. As he detoured toward the driver's side he tried to think of a way to talk to Hildy about it,

"Is this for me?" Hildy said in an excited voice as Jim slid into the driver's seat.

She was holding the wrapped box with her Christmas present in it.

"Hildy, I forgot to hide that. It was going to be a surprise for later."

"Let me open it now!"

"Why don't we save it," Jim insisted. "It's not much, anyway."

Hildy set the box on the back seat. She slid over on the seat so that she was close to him.

"I missed you," she whispered, and kissed him on the mouth.

It was a quick kiss, but it was the first Jim had received from her since she had visited him during the football weekend. He felt himself move by impulse. He reached around her and pulled her as tight as he could.

"I missed you, too".

He kissed her back, but stopped short of what he wanted to do. 

"If we sit here in the driveway much longer your father will come out to see what's going on," Jim warned. "And then, he'll see what's going on."

Hildy giggled and slid back to the passenger's side.

"It's so cold we could get frozen together," she laughed.

Jim backed out of the driveway. He had many things on his mind.

"I'm glad you missed me Hildy. I was afraid that you might be mad because I didn't see you at Thanksgiving."

"That's okay," she answered. "We went to Aunt Mildred's, anyway."

"I understand, Hildy. I meant the day after Thanksgiving. You see, I had to go back and work on my project. It had just been approved by the faculty committee. It's a design for a..."

"I know, you told me," Hildy assured him.

Jim turned the car onto the main road.

"Well, at least you missed me," he said.

"It's not like you never called me up or wrote to me," Hildy said. "You shouldn't worry about it. I know that you're busy."

They drove along for a few minutes.

"Did you have a nice Christmas?" he asked.

"It's not over yet," Hildy said. "I can't wait to see what's in the box that you brought for me."

Her voice was bubbly. Jim glanced over and her face was alive.

"All in good time, Hildy," Jim said, "but don't get your hopes up. It isn't much"

She slouched in her seat, reminding him of a child finding out that Santa Claus would be fifteen minutes late. 

"I know I'll like it," she insisted, "whatever it is."

Soon they were easing into a parking space in the diner's lot. Hildy bounded out of the car. 

"It's not the Shakespeare Room," he said.

"I remember this place," Hildy chimed. "It's where we had coffee after the Shakespeare Room."

Jim began walking toward the front door of the restaurant. In a moment Hildy was walking at his side.

"That's sweet," she said.

"You can call it that if you want, Hildy. I call it 'what my budget can afford'."

She threaded her arm around his. She was clutching her present that he wouldn't let her open yet in her other hand. 

"That's okay," she said. "It's my favorite place."

Soon they were inside. There were people sitting in the booth that they used the night he took her to the Shakespeare Room. Jim thought that Hildy was so wound up that she was going to ask them, to move. There was another booth not far away and they sat down in it.

"You're really excited," he said. "I hope it's not for that present because..."

"I'm just glad that you're here."

"Hildy, I had a thought. What are your New Year's Eve plans?"

"I don't have any," she said.

"I was thinking that you could drive down to my apartment. No one will be there but me—I mean us. We could have a nice dinner together. Maybe pick up where we left off after the football game."

Hildy's face turned glum.

"Not a chance," she answered. "I have to work on New Year's Eve and the day after New Year's. I had to work today. Christmas and New Year's Day are on Tuesday this year."

Jim was not easily dissuaded.

"That's okay. You could leave from work that Monday. You could be at my apartment by eight. We could spend some time together the next day and then you could drive back. What's the problem?"

"I just can't, not this time."

Her buoyant mood had disappeared. He voice was shaky. Jim could tell that he'd upset her.

"Never mind, Hildy. It seemed like a good idea at the time but I can see that it wasn't."

Hildy was looking down at her placemat. He thought about bringing out the Christmas present to cheer her up, but he doubted that a matching tam, gloves and muffler were going to do the job. Jim looked up and the waitress was standing beside the booth.

"Did you look at the menu?"

"No," said Jim, "but I know what I want—fried chicken dinner."

"Mashed or fries?"

"Fries."

"Cole slaw or apple sauce?"

"Slaw."

"Dressing on your salad?"

"Thousand Island."

The waitress turned to Hildy.

"What about you, dear?"

Hildy hadn't looked up.

"I'll have the same as him," she mumbled.

The waitress scribbled a bit on her pad.

"Cheer up, sugar. The chicken will be a little greasy, but it won't be that bad."

The waitress turned and walked away. Jim started laughing, to himself at first. Then he couldn't hold it in and laughed out loud.

"You can never fool a waitress," he blurted out.

By that time Hildy was laughing, too.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I guess I'm not a very good date."

"We'll see about that," Jim countered, "but at least you're a cheap date if you ordered the fried chicken."

The last comment was too much and they burst out laughing again. They kept it up until they realized that every patron, waitress and busboy was looking at them.

"Let's get back to where we were before I had that stupid idea," Jim said.

Hildy shook her head and her face was serious again.

"It wasn't a stupid idea. It's a wonderful idea. I'm stupid for not accepting it."

"I don't get it, Hildy."

She drew a deep breath.

"My parents would go crazy. That's the reason I can't go. I'm ashamed to say it, but there it is."

"You could get a hotel receipt and..."

"That barely worked last time."

"Well, Hildy, if you..."

Hildy placed her finger on his lips and Jim stopped talking.

"I might as well tell you the rest. You might have noticed that my parents don't really like you very much."

"Well, I ..."

Hildy silenced him again.

"It's my father, really. My mother goes along with whatever he says. In fact I heard part of the hard time he gave you tonight. It's not you. He just thinks that at my age I should be looking for a husband and he thinks that you're not a good prospect."




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 05



"Yes, I am!" Jim almost blurted out, but he was not even close to be ready to say anything like that. He caught himself in time and kept silent.

"We had a big argument yesterday in front of the Christmas Tree. He wants to fix me up with an apprentice who works at his machine shop. He wants to fix me up for New Year's Eve. I told him 'no' and he got mad."

"I see," Jim said.

"In fact," Hildy went on, "the reason I was late tonight was that he wouldn't let me start to get ready until we saw your headlights in the driveway. I think he gave you such a hard time because he was trying to get you to lose your temper. You didn't, though. I was proud of you."

Jim didn't say anything, trying to absorb all she'd told him. Why did he have to wait for her to explain it all to him? Everything was so plain. He should have seen it on his own.

"If our places were reversed I would have told her some little white lie. She sure didn't do that." 

"I don't care what your father thinks of me, except for whatever burden it puts on you. But look, Hildy, someday you're going to have to stand up to him. You're twenty-one, after all."

"I won't be twenty one until June. I'm just not ready for a big confrontation. I know this can't go on forever, but I..."

"Your father thinks it can, or at least until he has you married off to that apprentice. Then he'll try to lord it over him, too. He'll have you both under his thumb. And, I'll bet he knows that already or else he wouldn't have picked him out for you." 

Jim hadn't realized how much he disliked Hildy's father.

"You're right. I know you're right. I just can't do it now. He's not all bad, you know. He's done a lot of good things for me that you don't know about."

Jim shrugged.

"It's up to you, Hildy. I've never asked you to promise anything to me. Maybe you should go with this guy and everyone can get it out of their systems."

Hildy's eyes got wide and for the first time he'd known her Jim thought she was angry."

"No!" she decreed. "I won't. If I go anywhere on New Year's it will be with you, or else I'll read a magazine in my room. It won't be the first time."

"Whatever you say, Hildy. I was planning to go back to my apartment tomorrow morning so I can use the library at the Engineering School during Christmas Break. That's how I got the idea for you to come down to see me."

"Alright, then, I'll be reading a magazine in my room." 

They glanced over and saw the waitress getting ready to bring over their fried chicken dinners.

"It would make things a lot easier if you could just wait until after New Year's Eve. Just take me somewhere, even for a little while. If not, I'm afraid my father will try something. He might have his apprentice show up unannounced and I'll be stuck." 

Jim took a deep breath. 

"Hildy, I can't afford to make a reservation at a restaurant or night club—and I'd bet those places are all booked by now, anyway. All my friends are graduated and moved away. They all went through school in four years and I'm doing it in five. So, none of my friends will be around to have private parties."

Hildy snapped her fingers.

"I know what to do. I'll talk to Darlene at work tomorrow. We'll throw a party at her house. She and I can chip in on the expenses. Darlene is always ready for a party. She lives with her parents, too, but they're okay. Just take me to Darlene's party. That will solve a lot of problems."

"Sure," Jim answered. "I'm still going to school tomorrow to get some materials that I can work on while I'm home. I'll drive to my parents' house on the morning of the thirty-first."

Hildy leaned back in her seat and was smiling again.

"I feel a lot better now," she said. "You're really dedicated to this project, aren't you?"

Jim felt a lot better, too. In all the months he had known Hildy he had never told her about his studies or his work in any meaningful depth. He'd wanted to tell her many times, but didn't want to bore her with something that was only meaningful to himself. He sensed his big chance coming. It was just at the right time when his idea for his big project was coming together.

"Yes," he answered, "it's important to me."

"Tell me about it," she said.

He took a deep breath.

"It's a design for a plant to manufacture Bromine compounds. I have to lay out the plant, size and spec the equipment, provide for environmental laws and safety, and a lot of other things."

"It sounds like it's hard," Hildy said. "What's Bromine? Why would you want to do anything with it?

As he started to speak again she leaned forward. She put her elbows on the table, clasping her hands and then rested her chin on them. Jim thought he could see her eyes sparkling. He was going to tell her all about it.

"Bromine is a chemical element and the plant would start its process with Bromic Acid and react it into something that can be safely handled. It's a fire retardant that has a lot of uses: children's pajamas, theater curtains, cellulose insulation and things like that.

There, he was satisfied. He'd told her enough, he thought. He was satisfied that she understood and appreciated what he was doing. The waitress set their dinner plates in front of them with their salads on the side. Hildy had to take her arms off the table. She leaned back in her seat and placed her napkin in her lap and picked up her fork.

"Tell me the rest of it," she said.

He did tell her. She listened about the hazards of Bromic Acid—how it could actually explode if you weren't careful with it and the special materials one needed to work with it. He explained how he researched the quantity of product the plant would produce and how that led him to the right sizing of the equipment and mixer configurations. He told her all about what he had to do to get the faculty committee to accept his idea. There was more.

Hildy munched on her salad but never stopped paying attention to him. 

"She can't possibly care about all these details," he admitted to himself as he neared the end of his discourse. "She probably doesn't even understand half of it. After all, she didn't even pass Chemistry in high school." 

He might have been right, but it was clear that Hildy wanted to hear it, just the same. She almost seemed disappointed when he was out of details to tell her. It was hard for Jim to understand. 

"Thanks for telling me about it," she said as he finished. "It sounds like a hard job that you have, but you'll do fine."

"It was nice of her to say that," Jim thought to himself. 

He thought that he should thank her for listening to his lecture, but the words caught in his throat. If he said it maybe it would sound like a polite reciprocation, a quid pro quo. Her sparkling eyes reminded him of a Christmas Tree and her unexpected 'thank you' was so sweet in his ears. A blunt reciprocation just didn't seem right.

But, Jim was polite, if nothing else.

"Thanks for listening, Hildy. I know I can get carried away when I start talking about these things. I can go on and on..."

"I enjoyed listening to you," she said. "Don't apologize."

"It was just that..." he began to say.

"Your dinner's getting cold," she said. "Look, I'm nearly done."

Jim poured some catsup on his plate and dug in to the chicken, slaw and fries. He handed Hildy his salad so she would have something to work on while he caught up with her. (He didn't really want the salad, anyway.) 

They decided to pass on dessert and had a last coffee refill.

"Christmas present time!" Hildy announced as soon as the busboy cleared their dishes away.

She was clutching the box that she had found in the car and shaking it to get a hint what was inside. 

"Go ahead and open it. You look like you're going to burst," Jim said and he had a hard time keeping himself from laughing.

Her overcoat was in a heap on the empty seat next to her. She pulled out something that had been underneath it. Jim hadn't even noticed it until she produced it and handed it to him.

"You first," she gushed.

It was a flat envelope, a little larger than a sheet of paper. There wasn't a bow on it, but there was a tag that said, 'To Jim, From Hildy". Jim lifted the envelop flap, hoping not to damage the envelope. 

"Go ahead. Just tear it open," she said.

She sounded impatient. Jim wasn't a 'tear it open' kind of guy. He produced a jackknife from his pocket and sliced through the fold on the envelope flap. He pulled out the contents.

It was a photo, in color, in a folder with matting. He looked at the face smiling out at him. She was a bit chubbier when it was taken and the hairstyle was a little different, but he recognized the face right away. It was Hildy.

"Hildy, I don't know what to say," he said after he'd inspected the picture.

"Say you like it," she replied.

"I do like it—I really do," he said. "I wasn't expecting..."

"It's my graduation picture," she said. "I've been waiting to give it to someone and now I decided to give it to you."

"Thank you, Hildy. It's very nice."

He knew he should have said more, that saying 'very nice' was next to saying nothing. But, what could he say? It had been a surprise and he wasn't ready. Was she expecting him to say more? He hoped not—he just couldn't. 

He looked up and Hildy already had the paper nearly torn off the box that she'd been shaking a few moments ago. 

"Hildy, don't expect too much..."

She was already lifting the lid.

"Oh," she said as she lifted the tam from the box, "very nice."

He could see that she was deflated. She lifted it by her fingertips and it reminded Jim of someone lifting a dirty diaper. 

"All the pieces match," he said, as if he could impart some added value to the gift.

"I see that," she said. "I really love it."

"Hildy, I'm just not good at presents. I don't get ideas for this kind of thing very easily."

"It's a nice present, Jim," she assured him. "Thank you."

They were silent while they waited for the check. They left the diner and were outside, walking to the car.

"What movie do you want to see?" he asked.

"The Way We Were," she answered right away.

He had been set on 'The Sting' but didn't say so. Maybe it was a way to give her something to make up for the deficiency of the knitted set.

He took her home after the movie and they made plans for Darlene's party. Afterward, as he drove to his parents' house he was thinking about the difference between the two Christmas presents.

"What a jerk I am. Hat, gloves and scarf, all for twenty dollars. Big deal! I could have done better if I'd tried harder."

He drove along a bit farther. He was stopped at a light and was still thinking about Hildy. 

"I wouldn't blame her if she took that apprentice to Darlene's party. He wouldn't have come up with any better gift than I did, but she would have expected less from him."

Darlene's party never came off. As Jim was about to begin the drive to his parents' house, Hildy called to tell him to stay home. The roads had been closed due to a winter storm. 

The party was canceled. And the chance he had been hoping for to make things right with her was canceled, too.

TO BE CONTINUED



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 06



Harvest of Expectations
© Copyright 2013
By Autumn Writer

Chapter 6 — Confrontation

March 1974

January and February swept by fast, like the snowstorms that turned the roads to glorified ski trails that year. Jim hadn't seen Hildy since the date he had with her the night after Christmas. He tried a few times to drive up for a visit, but something got in the way. 

Sometimes it was the weather and other times he was working on his project. On top of that, he was working out in preparation for the final season he would be on the University's Track and Field team.

Hildy seemed cheerful through it all, even when he disappointed her. He put her photo on his dresser. He stopped wondering if she was wearing the blue knitted set that he gave her. She never mentioned it, or asked if her photo was on his dresser or tucked away in a desk drawer. 

"She's got her hooks into you now," Rich told him when Hildy's photo made its debut.

"Not true," Jim protested. "Yes, we're dating. That doesn't mean anything more than that. I'm still a free agent."

Rich laughed. 

"Alright, then— I'll call Ashley and tell her you want to kiss and make up. I'd bet that she'd be up here in less than an hour."

"Some other time," Jim replied. "I'm too busy right now."

Jim tried to look away, but saw Rich give that look that didn't need words, just the same.

"Bedsides, you and Hildy aren't dating. You're just phoning."

That much was true. Whatever Jim wasn't spending on gasoline to drive to see Hildy he was surely burning up in long distance charges. He dropped her a card with a mushy verse from time to time, too, but Rich didn't need to know about that.

For a while Jim thought that Hildy's parents weren't putting through his calls to her or giving her his mail. She just seemed to be out when she was sure to be home. He got lucky when her friend, Darlene, got her own apartment on February 1. Hildy would go over to Darlene's apartment and he would call her there and the problems ceased.

That gave Jim some ideas because he and Hildy still had some unfinished business. Jim still retained his problem, although he was thinking about it less. Hildy could tell her father she was staying over at Darlene's place. Jim thought that Rich might enjoy a drive up to have a rematch with Darlene.

So, things were beginning to look up and there were even signs that the blanket of snow might even melt soon. 

Jim was thinking all these things as he walked out the front door of DuPont Hall, which was the main Chemical Engineering Building in which his advisor had his office. The two had just finished a meeting to evaluate Jim's progress on his final project. The news was good. 

The professor told him he could turn it in right away and get a C, or polish it up and get an A. So, polish it up it would be. It was the second Friday of March and Spring Break would be starting in about two hours. Jim thought about Hildy.

He couldn't stay away from school the whole Spring Break, of course. Besides working on his project he had his commitment to the Track Team and the first meet of the year was scheduled for the following Saturday in Virginia. But, the good news on his project made him think a couple days off would be in order. He floated the 'Darlene' idea by Rich.

"Sounds tempting, but I promised my parents I'd visit this week. Too bad. Tell Darlene I said 'Hi'."

He thought that Darlene might help out, just the same. She was a modern girl, and had recently acquired the means to help. He guessed that Hildy would be in Darlene's apartment at about seven. He waited and gave her a call.

Darlene picked up the phone sure enough, Hildy was there.

Jim:"Hildy— remember me?"

Hildy:"I had a feeling you would call"

Jim: "Spring Break has started. I thought I would pay you a visit. How about a date tomorrow night?"

Hildy: "Just what I was hoping you would say. Where do you want to go?"

Jim: "Somewhere simple. Maybe a movie. You pick it out."

Hildy:"I can't wait to see you!"

Jim:"Hildy, I had another idea."

Hildy:"I'm listening."

Jim: "Well, if Darlene's got a spare room in her new apartment maybe you could stay over with her tomorrow night. Maybe I could stay over, too."

There was a pause and Jim wondered for a second if Hildy had hung up. At long last she came back on the line.

Hildy:"I'll do it. I'll have to ask Darlene, but I'm sure shell say 'yes'.

Jim:"How can you be so sure?"

Hildy:"Darlene already offered it to me a couple of times."

Jim:I like it! I'm going to stop and see my parents first and then I'll see you at seven.

********************* 

Jim's situation was looking up. It seemed like it had been so long ago that he was just starting his studies at the University. As he contemplated graduation he knew that he had many options open to him. But, options came with variables and equations with many variables were more difficult to solve. 

Jim was sitting at the kitchen table of his parents' home. He arrived just in time for lunch. They were talking about what his plans were for after graduation.

"I signed up for interviews with a bunch of companies. I'm a little bit behind. 

Some of the other students have already had interviews."

"Don't rush into anything," his father said.

"I won't," Jim promised, "but it's something I should be doing now. Maybe I should have not gone out for the Track Team. It's taking a lot of time, but I'm committed. I can't quit now." 

"Have you thought any more about staying in school and getting your Master's next year?" his mother asked.

Jim sighed. He knew his mother would bring it up. She had been for it all along. She never said it, but Jim believed that she was trying to prolong the day when he would be moving away.

"Ma, I'd like to start earning some money. I'm eager to get on with life. The Rustmobile is on its last legs. I can go back for my Master's degree later. Maybe after a few years my company would pick up the tab."

"What about that young lady you've been seeing?" his mother asked. "How does she fit in to all of this?"

It was the big variable, for he had to admit to himself, if to no one else, that he was developing feelings for Hildy. He reminded himself he had to keep a level head.

"Ma, Hildy and I are just friends. We've made no commitments..."

"Nothing official," she said, "but I can tell..."

"Martha, he has to make his own decisions about all these things," his father said. "Don't try to sway him one way or the other. He has to be happy with it."

"Good old Dad!"

His mother stopped talking for a moment, then put in the last word.

"Just promise me that you'll think about it," she told him.

"You sound like Professor Stark," Jim answered. "He wants me to take the Master's course next year. I just don't know right now."

"At least you've got the grades to make whichever decision you want," his father said. "If you need money for next year I think..."

"Dad, I couldn't take more from you than I already have..."

"Of course you could," his mother chimed in, her eyes brightening. 

The conversation wasn't going the way that Jim wanted it to go.

"It's my fault. If I'd researched more I'd have more answers." 

At that moment the phone rang and Jim believed he was given a reprieve, if for only a few minutes.

"It's for you," his mother said. "It's that young lady."

Jim:"Hildy, hello. What's up?"

Hildy:"I was calling you to tell me not to pick me up at Darlene's apartment. I'll be at my parents' house."

Jim:"But Hildy..."

Hildy:"I'll explain when I see you. Bye."

"When are we going to get to meet this young lady?" his mother asked as he hung up the phone.

"When there's a reason to," Jim was quick to reply. "I told you, we have no commitments."

"Well you've met her parents," his mother argued, "it only seems fair..."

"Ma, please."

Jim had raised his voice and he was sorry about that right away.

"If I could just talk to her; a woman can tell what's on another woman's mind."

Jim's father came to the rescue again.

"Martha, Jim's got it tough enough. Two against one isn't fair."

"Dad to the rescue again." 

"Jim," his father said, "I think that your mother is measuring you for a tux."

The phone rang again. His father answered and motioned to Jim that the phone was for him again.

Jim:"Hello"

Wertz:"This is Herbert Wertz. I know you're planning to take Hildy out on a date tonight. I want to talk to you first. I'm going to be in MacIver's Bar at the four corners of the village. Meet me there before you pick her up. Get a pencil and paper and I'll tell you where it is.

Jim:I know where it is, Mr. Wertz. I'm not sure I'll have time. How long do you think this will take?

Wertz:That depends. Just meet me. I'll be there at six.

After that Mr. Wertz hung up.

"Time for what?' his father asked. 

"Hildy's father wants me to meet him in a bar near their house at six."

"Her father?" his mother gasped.

"I take it you don't like this gentleman very much," Jim's father said.

"More or less," Jim answered.

"I could tell," his father said. "Why don't you meet with him and see what he wants?"

"I will," Jim promised. "It's just that I would rather that he'd asked instead of ordered me. I have to go. If I don't he'll think that I'm afraid of him."

***************** 

Jim never sought out confrontation and he always made an extra effort to give his elders the respect they deserved.

MacIver's Bar was a neighborhood saloon, a last holdout of a dying breed. It was at the four corners of the small village about a mile away from Hildy's house. On Saturdays it was filled with locals, watching sports on TV or just stopping in during the evening to see their neighbors and for something to do. 

At six o'clock it was all but empty because the first crowd had gone home for dinner and the second crowd hadn't come out yet.

Jim opened the door to the barroom. There was an ante room between the outside door and the entry to the actual barroom, probably to keep out the cold, windy gusts in winter and keep the cold, air conditioned air in during summer. There was a window cut in the second oaken door and he looked in and saw Hildy's father seated at the far end of the bar. He swung the door open and stepped inside.

Hildy's father saw Jim right away. He stuck his arm into the air and as soon as he was sure that Jim saw him he kept his arm raised but pointed his index finger down at the barstool next to his.

"Yes, old man. I get the picture." 

"Hey Bill, draw me another beer," Mr. Wertz called out to the burly bartender with a handlebar moustache. "Draw one for the young fella, too."

Jim had made his way to the bar stool to which Mr. Wertz directed him. He started to say 'hello', but the bartender spoke before he could.

"I need to see some ID, young fella," he growled.

"The young fella's with me," Wertz said. "I'll vouch for him."

The bartender nodded his head and walked away.

"That's Bill MacIver," Mr. Wertz said. "He owns the place. He knows me. I'm a regular. He knows that I mean what I say. Everyone around here does."

"I'm here like you asked me," Jim said.

"Drink your beer," Hildy's father said.

Jim took two big gulps and set the glass back on the bar.

"Thanks, Mr. Wertz."

Jim took a ten out of his wallet and placed it on the bar next to where Hildy's father had placed his own money.

"Put that away," Mr. Wertz said. "You won't need it."

Jim didn't say anything. He started to reach for the bill—he would rather have spent it somewhere else—but he pulled his hand back before the old man could see him flinch.

Hildy's father looked at Jim's money on the bar and then looked at Jim. He didn't say anything, either. Jim wondered if he would have to pick up his money in order to get him to tell why he had ordered him to the meeting at the bar. 

"I suppose you want to know why I told you to come here."

Jim had an impulse to set the old guy straight, to tell him that he didn't show up because he was ordered to, but because he chose to. He didn't say anything, however, fearing to set off an argument that he would later regret. 

"Well, do you?" Wertz asked again. "Do you want to know? Maybe you already know."

"I'm all ears, Mr. Wertz.

"You've got a date with Hildy tonight," he said.

"I know that already."

He regretted the wise-ass answer as soon as it left his lips. 

"Hildy's my daughter."

Jim knew that, too, but kept his silence.

"You've been taking her out on a lot of dates," her father went on. "I want tonight's date to be your last one." 

Jim took a deep breath. It occurred to him that being polite was not paying off.

"I doubt that it will be, Mr. Wertz."

The older man heaved a big sigh and shook his head hard to each side like he had a bad taste in his mouth. He picked up his beer and took a gulp and then set it back down.

"What do you see in my daughter, anyway?" he demanded.

"I guess that I just like her," Jim said.

It was a weak answer and Jim knew it. It seemed unfair that this older man, whom he barely knew and who didn't like him, should be able to put him on the spot that way.

"You can do better than that," Wertz said. "What do you go to that fancy college for, anyway, if you can't give a better answer than that?"

"I like taking Hildy out because I like being with her. I like her because...because..."

"Because why?" Wertz demanded, and this time it had turned into a sneer.

"Because she is such a nice person," Jim said, and he made certain that his voice reflected the conviction inside him.

"Hey, Bill," Wertz called out to the far end of the bar. "This young fella likes taking Hildy out because he thinks she is a nice person."

The bartender had made his way back to the end of the bar where Jim and Wertz were seated. Hildy's father was laughing and the bartender was laughing, too. They weren't real laughs. Jim knew it wasn't funny.

"It's none of his business," Jim said, pointing at the bartender.

Wertz and the bartender stopped laughing.

"Hey, bub..." MacIver said and moved a few steps closer to Jim.

"Never mind, Bill," Wertz said. "He's just a young fella. Doesn't know his manners, still wet behind the ears."

"Not as wet as you think," Jim shot back.

"She's my daughter," Wertz said and pointed at his own chest. "She's mine and I call the shots."

"She can decide for herself who she sees," Jim said. "It's not up to you—or even me."

Wertz shook his head again and took a few more gulps of beer.

"Let's cut out the monkey business," Wertz said. "I know why you're taking her out. It's the only reason why a fair-haired college boy like you would bother with a girl like her. I'll tell you why. It's because you're putting your big, fat, hungry dick into her every chance you get."

Jim felt the blood rushing through the veins on his neck. In a moment he would be telling the old blowhard a thing or two. He took a deep breath and reminded himself to keep his nerve.

"I wish that you had asked me instead of putting it that way, Mr. Wertz."

"I didn't need to ask."

Jim drew another deep breath.

"The fact, sir, is that Hildy and I have never slept together."

The old man snickered and drank some more beer.

"I wasn't talking about sleeping."

"I know what you meant and I was just trying to be polite."

Wertz looked away for a second. When he turned his head back to face Jim his eyes were bloodshot and filled with tears.

"Be as polite as you want. I don't believe you. Why else would you have anything to do with her? She's homely and over six feet tall. She's a freak, and she's stupid, besides."

"And she's a nice person," Jim reminded him, "and I won't accept the rest."

"And there's other things you don't know," he said and stuck his index finger in Jim's chest.

Jim moved away. He sensed that things had gone too far. He began looking for a way out, but retreat would imply an admission, and he wouldn't do that.

"Why don't you do something for Hildy, instead of tear her down? If you would show her some kindness I think it would make her feel like a million bucks. She takes a lot from you because she respects and loves you."

It was if Wertz hadn't heard him. 

"This is a small town, young fella.. My whole family lives here. You're fornicatin' with her and soon it will be all over town. I've got a family reputation to protect. You'll get tired of her and go off somewhere with your new diploma and big job. She'll be left and what will she have to show for it?"

"You have no right to talk to me like that," Jim snapped back at him.

"I've got every right!" Wertz shouted and slammed his open palm on the bar. 

The few patrons in the bar, as well as the owner were looking at them. He started speaking in a lower voice and leaned close to Jim so that Jim could smell the beer on his breath.

"Did you think I didn't see through that little scheme of yours at Darlene's apartment? Well, I put the QT on that!"

Jim decided it was time to leave.

"Look, Mr. Wertz, I've told you the truth about everything. Right now, I'm going to pick up Hildy and we're going out to see a movie. I'm going to keep taking Hildy out until one of us decides that it isn't good anymore. As it stands now, that's not what I'm thinking. We'll see what Hildy says about it."

He began to zip up his jacket.

"Wait, young fella, you haven't finished your beer."

"I don't want it. I'm finished."

Wertz grabbed the sleeve of Jim's jacket.

"I'm not done talking to you."

Jim pulled his sleeve from Wertz' grip. He stuck his finger in the old man's chest.

"I said, I'm finished," Jim scowled back at him and then took his finger out of his chest.

He picked his ten off the bar and then turned and began walking away. MacIver was standing halfway between Wertz and the front door.

"How much do you charge for that beer I had?" Jim asked him.

"A buck, why?" 

Jim slapped a single on the bar.

"I'm paying for my own," he said and the continued walking.

"Don't take it from him, Bill," he heard Wertz yelling behind him. "Don't take it from him."

As he pulled open the door he heard MacIver call after him.

"Hey, young fella, it's on the house."

Jim heard them but didn't turn around. He opened the second door and he just kept on walking.

****************** 

Jim was a guy who made his plans in a careful way. He always had a fallback plan in case his original plan didn't work out, because the objective was always the most important thing.

"Who the hell does that guy think he is?" Jim asked himself out loud as he crossed the street outside the bar and walked to the lot where he had parked his car.

He wondered to himself if he'd been as strong as he could have been in standing up to Hildy's old man. Was there something that he could have said that hadn't occurred to him? Did he leave any doubt that he wasn't one to be pushed around?

"I probably did, but it's too late now. It's time to pick up Hildy."

He conceded that he'd done enough. It was a situation that he'd neither expected nor wanted, but there it was. It was true that he and Hildy had no spoken commitments to one another, so he wondered to himself why he'd brought so much trouble on himself to be her willing defender.

"Right is right and sometimes things just happen." 

And, he'd been truthful in everything he'd said. At least, it was the truth in the strictest sense because he had to concede that the old man had been half right. He had been trying to put his 'big, fat, hungry dick' into her. He had just been unsuccessful. But, it was the truth.

"Well, it's not that big or fat, but I'll admit to it being hungry. It doesn't matter, though; it's none of his business. It's between Hildy and me. And, I won't be talked to like that by Hildy's old man or anyone else."




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 06



Jim exhaled a few times so that Hildy wouldn't see that he was angry. He decided not to tell her about the encounter. What would be the point of upsetting her? 

Jim drove into the driveway at Hildy's house. He was about to shut off the motor to the Rustmobile and go to the door. He had his hand on the ignition when he saw Hildy emerge from the back corner of the house where he would have gone to knock at the back door.

She was walking fast at first, and as she approached the car she started to break into a run. She was carrying nothing, not even a purse. She opened the passenger's door and bundled herself into the car. Jim had never seen the expression that she had on her face. She looked afraid or angry or ...he didn't know.

"Let's get going," she said as she panted out of breath.

"Hildy, what's the matter"

"Let's please just get going now!"

Jim backed the car out of the driveway and Hildy didn't say anything. He had turned onto the main road before she spoke.

"What did he say to you?" 

He began to say "not much" but he remembered how those little white lies were so troublesome when he told them to her.

"It wasn't very nice, Hildy."

"Please tell me. I've got to know."

He knew he would have to tell her and he knew she would be hurt by it. He decided that he would tell her all of it.

"I'll tell you, Hildy. Let's find a place to park the car so I can tell you without having to drive at the same time." 

"We can go to Darlene's apartment."

"I know a place that's closer."

There were plenty of parking lots with empty spaces that he could have pulled into, but it was still cold on that March evening. After driving five minutes he was pulling into the parking lot of their old standby diner. In a few more minutes they were in a booth in the back.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"Please, just tell me," she said.

"Hildy, we can't sit in a booth in a restaurant and not order some food."

She paused for a second and gritted her teeth. The waitress approached the table, her pad ready.

"Alright, order me a salad and coffee."

The waitress wrote it down.

"Cheeseburger and coffee for me," Jim said. 

"Fries?" the waitress asked.

"Yeah, an order of fries, too."

The waitress left and Hildy leaned forward and grabbed Jim by the wrist.

"Now, tell me."

Jim drew a deep breath.

"The most important part was that he told me not to see you anymore."

Hildy drew in a short gasp.

"Hildy, I told him to shove it."

Hildy rolled her eyes.

"You told my father to shove it?"

"Not in so many words. I said that we would see each other as long as we both wanted to. That would be more accurate."

Hildy let out a little whimper, but stifled it.

"You told him that? Did you mean it?" 

"Of course I did, Hildy."

Hildy was smiling just a little, but she wouldn't let go of his wrist.

"You really meant it?" she asked again.

"C'mon Hildy. What did I say?"

But, she was still clutching his wrist.

"What else did he say?"

"He said he knew that the only reason I was dating you is that we were having sex all the time. He said it would be the only reason I would have anything to do with you. I set him straight."

The waitress brought their food and refilled their coffee cups. Hildy had to let go of Jim's wrist.

"What do you mean, 'set him straight'?"

"Just the facts. I told him that we haven't slept together and that there were other reasons that I would want to date you."

"You did?" Hildy gasped, and her face had turned red.

"He didn't believe me, of course, but I really don't care."

"What were the reasons you told him?" Hildy asked.

It wasn't only white lies that caused Jim trouble. He could now see that the truth could do it, too.

"Please Hildy, don't make me tell. Let's eat. Our food will get cold."

"I'm having a salad. Please tell me."

"C'mon, Hildy, I'm not good at this. I could tell you some other time."

"I need to know."

"If I say it you'll be embarrassed, or you'll stop acting natural. Let's not..."

"Please," she whispered and leaned forward and stared into his eyes.

"You might be disappointed," he warned.

"Please," she whispered again.

Jim drew a breath. He took a sip of coffee to stall for a few seconds to help him find the right words, or perhaps to screw up the courage to say the words.

"Hildy, I told your father—and it was the plain truth—that I like being with you because...because..."

She clutched his arm again.

"Please," she whispered once again and Jim could tell that her voice was cracking a little bit.

"Because you're such a nice person," he said all at once.

Hildy pushed out her breath and covered her mouth with the hand that wasn't clutching Jim's wrist. Her eyes popped open wider than Jim thought that they could. She stayed frozen like that.

"Hildy, I know it isn't much. I was afraid you'd be disappointed. I'm sorry."

"Do you mean it?" she asked

"I told you already it's the truth."

Her eyes were welling with tears. Jim was thinking that she would make a scene in the diner, but she wiped the tears away with her sleeve.

"I can't think of a time when someone said anything nicer to me."

"Then, it's overdue," Jim told her.

"Jim, what can I say?"

Jim decided that not telling her everything would be like one of those white lies that he was always regretting. He took another breath.

"There's more that I should have told your father, but it was a heated moment and I didn't think fast enough."

Hildy sat still and waited for him.

"The rest of it, Hildy, is that just knowing that you want to be with me, or that you miss me or you're thinking of me, makes me believe that maybe there's something good inside me, too. No matter how long we know each other, that feeling will never leave me."

Her eyes were welling up again, but Jim was more confident that she would keep it under control. He kept silent for a little while to let her get composed.

"I don't know what else to tell you, Hildy."

"That was a lot," she conceded.

She was smiling again. It made his soul-baring catharsis worthwhile.

"Want a french fry?" he asked

She was already reaching into his plate and dipping one into the puddle of catsup.

"To hear that makes everything worth it," she said.

"What does that mean, Hildy?"

"There was a big blowup at our house today. That's why I had to call you. My father figured out what we had planned at Darlene's apartment. He tricked me into giving it away."

"That would explain the big meeting at MacIver's Bar," Jim said.

"He told me that if I stayed over at Darlene's he would never let me back in the house again. My mother was tearing her hair out. He said some other nasty things, too. He told us he was going to meet you at the bar. I was afraid he would follow you to the house when you picked me up. That's why I wanted to get out of there fast."

"Hildy, when I saw you running out of the house you looked like you were afraid of him."

"I am. He can be so cruel sometimes."

Jim shook his head.

"I meant afraid of being slapped around by him."

"No," Hildy answered, "sometimes I wish he would. It would be better than the things he says to me."

"Hildy, don't say that. You can't..."

Hildy stopped him.

"He's never hit me or my mother as far as I know. He hurts people in other ways."

"It's up to you Hildy. I wouldn't put up with it. You've got your own income. You could get your own place. But, like I said, it's up to you."

Hildy shrugged.

I know," she said, "but I was hoping to save some money, and my mother would be upset if I moved out."

"Or you could ask Darlene if she wants a roommate. You two are best friends. You could split expenses."

Hildy was blushing again. 

"We'll see," she said. "Right now I was thinking that we could skip the movie and take Darlene up on her offer."

Jim had forgotten abut the grand plan that seemed so foolproof until just that afternoon. He thought it had fallen apart, but it still had some life.

"When I think about that it seems like it would be so good," Jim said.

"Yes," she said and her smile was beaming and her breathing fast and shallow.

"It can't be tonight, Hildy. It's one of the hardest things I've ever said, but it has to be this way. After everything that's happened, it would be like we were sneaking away just to spite your father and I won't have it that way."

"But no," she pleaded, "it wouldn't be and we've tried so many times. And, besides he deserves it."

Jim shook his head. 

"You see, it would be like that. You just said it, yourself. It shouldn't be about your father. It's about you and me. We would be doing it and in the back our minds would be that we were doing it because we were defying him. That would take away from it. Maybe if it was last summer I would just go for it. It's different now."

But, Jim..."

"Last September when you fell asleep in my apartment I promised myself that someday we would be together at the right time, right place and of our choosing. This would be the right time and place. But in a way it would be his choice. He would be pushing us into it. We would feel him right alongside us in the bed."

Hildy was looking down at the table in front of her.

"Like I said Hildy, it's one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but I know it's right. Please understand. Someday, we'll make it right."

Hildy kept looking down and bit her lip once. Then, she lifted her head. She reached across the table and took his last French fry.

"What movie do you want to go to?" she asked.

They decided to see "The Sting". As they walked out into the cold air in the parking lot she curled her arm around his.

"You're full of surprises," she said. 

She made him stop walking for a second and kissed him on the cheek.

"It's a down payment for 'someday'," she said.

They got into the Rustmobile. As he started the car she had one last question for him.

"Did my father say anything else about me?"

Jim shook his head. 

"No Hildy, he didn't."

It was another one of those white lies, but Jim thought he would take a chance. It would only have hurt her and he judged it not worth repeating, anyway.

He dropped Hildy off at her house at about midnight. They sat in his car, in her driveway, in the cold for about fifteen minutes. They held each other, not saying much, kissing goodnight.

He started out on the two-hour drive to his apartment at school. He was thinking of Hildy, alone in her bed in her father's house. He realized that she could have been with him in the bed in the spare bedroom in Darlene's apartment at that very moment.

The road was dark and it was late, but he was wide awake. His eyes followed the headlight beam that cut a path through the night for him to follow.

"Am I a fool or a wise man? Am I a man at all?"

He thought he was a man, or at least trying to be one. As for fool or sage, he could not answer. The night had not gone according to his expectations of only a few hours before. All he knew was that had to keep following that headlight beam through the night.

TO BE CONTINUED



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 07



Chapter 7 — A Man's Work

April 1974

The phone call at his apartment surprised him. He had been back at his apartment for about ninety minutes. He was taking a break from finishing off the report on Fluid Systems that was due in a few days and was about to pop the top on a beer. Then it would be time to fix some dinner. The surprise phone call made him glad that hadn't quite gotten to it.

"Wow! That was fast. Something must be cooking."

He set down the phone and ran into his room to change back into his navy suit that he had worn to his interview earlier that day.

"What's going on?" Rich asked him.

"It's the guy from Douglas Chemical who I interviewed with this morning. He wants me to come back to campus to talk again right now."

"Jeez," Rich answered, "that doesn't happen too often."

"They want to see my work in progress for the Bromine Plant," Jim called out from the bedroom as he adjusted the knot on his tie. "What do you think..."

"He probably wants a ride to the airport," Rich laughed. "You gonna take him in the Rustmobile?"

Jim set about packing up his work papers.

"Get off it, Rich," he snapped.

"Hey, hey," Rich countered, "I was just trying to loosen you up. You look nervous."

"Sorry, Rich. I guess I am a little nervous."

"Well, stop being nervous. It's pretty clear that they liked what they saw this morning. So, relax!"

******************** 

Jim presented himself at the placement office where he'd had his interview earlier that day. He had his arms full with a box that held several notebooks and rolls of engineering drawings. 

"Didn't they tell you?" the receptionist said. "You're to meet them in Professor Stark's office."

Jim looked around. His advisor's office was in the building next door to the one he was in.

"Don't worry," the receptionist laughed. "I'll call over there and let them know that you're on the way."

A few minutes later Jim was balancing his box of materials in one hand and knocking on Professor Stark's office door with the other while he panted for breath. The man he'd met with, a guy by the name of Mr. Cutler, opened the door. He was about forty, had on a pin-striped suit. Jim remembered that he worked in the Personnel Department of Douglas Chemical at its Headquarters in Michigan.

"Hello, Jim. Thanks for coming back on such short notice. Sorry about the location mix-up."

Jim tried to perch the box of materials in his left hand so he could shake hands. Cutler laughed a little and slapped Jim on the back. 

"Just set your materials on the table for right now."

Jim found the long table in the corner of the office and he had to admit that he was glad to put them down, even though he was in pretty good condition from his pole vault workouts. He looked up and saw another man seated in a chair alongside Professor Stark. Mr. Cutler introduced him to the man he didn't know.

It was a man named Gerald Tyler. He was in his fifties, wore a tweed sports coat with leather elbow patches and khaki slacks. His hair was thinning and had a slender build. He explained that he was an Engineering Supervisor at Douglas Chemical and worked in Michigan, just like Frank Cutler. Jim shook hands with Mr. Tyler and then turned to his professor.

"It's always good to see you, Professor Stark," Jim said to his mentor. 

George Stark, nationally renowned, was the Senior Professor of Chemical Engineering at Campbell University. He was not the Department Chairman. He always said that he 'enjoyed his subject, not Administration'

He was about sixty, tall, thin and angular with piercing eyes that could look right through a student and see what was inside him. So, when a student was dealing with Professor Stark it was best to have nothing to hide. 

"I've known George Stark for a lot of years," Mr. Tyler began. "He wants me to see your project and I see that you've brought it with you. Why don't we spread it out?"

Jim started unpacking the box. There was a lot of material. He was wondering whether to give it to them bit by bit or the highlights first.

"The project isn't quite done yet," Jim warned them. "Maybe if I just..."

"That's quite all right," Mr. Tyler said, "George tells me that you've got a lot done. Now, let's see what you've got."

Before Jim could say anything the older man was unrolling drawings and spreading open the binders. He seemed to know just the way Jim had set it up. He overlaid all the drawings over the top of each other in just the right order and as he thumbed through the sheaves of papers he could find each and every detail he was looking for in exactly the place Jim had organized them. 

"I can see you're one of George Stark's students," he said as he looked at a data sheet. "Everything is right where it should be."

Professor Stark and Mr. Cutler stood to the side while Mr. Tyler bent over the material on the table. Jim stood at attention along side the senior engineer, waiting to be called upon. Every so often Tyler would ask him a question like, 'why did you come off this heat exchange with four inch piping' or 'how much amperage do the mixers on the reactors require'.

Jim knew he was lucky because he had the answers to each question.

"It's only a matter of time before he asks me one that I don't know."

But at the end he was able to field all of the questions and give good answers. When Mr. Tyler asked him what more he was going to do to perfect the project, Jim got an affirmative nod from both Mr. Tyler and Professor Stark.

"Mostly," Jim said, "I'm going to make the piping more efficient and take a look at the sizing on the heat exchangers. I also want to try an idea to reuse the heat coming off the heat exchangers instead of venting it."

It was the true answer. He hadn't made it up.

Mr. Tyler closed up Jim's notebooks and rolled up his drawings. He put everything back in Jim's box. He walked over to Professor Stark's desk and took a chair. He motioned Jim to another chair nearby.

"Very credible project," the elder man said.

"Thank you, sir," Jim answered, 'I was ..."

"Do you think that you would make a good engineer at Douglas Chemical Company?"

"Yes, sir," Jim said, "I do believe that." 

Mr. Tyler clasped hands together and drew in a breath. 

"What is it about you that would make it true?" he demanded.

Jim felt a shot go through him.

"Why indeed?"

Jim thought of the right words that he could say, of the platitudes about hard work and love of chemistry and math. He could recite his GPA, but he was sure that the men around him knew about that already. He thought about how Hildy was teaching him to skip all those little, harmless, polite, white lies. He decided to just let them have the truth, for better or worse.

"Because, sir, I've been very lucky. I've been fortunate to have the family that I do, a chance to study at this great school, with first-class classmates and be taught by men like Professor Stark. Now I have a chance to work at a great company like yours. Soon it's going to be up to me. I've got to take all these things that have been given to me and do my level best with them. That's my part to play and that's what I will do."

"You were just lucky? You didn't have anything to do with it, at all?" Mr. Tyler asked.

"Sure, I worked hard—but that's hardly too much to ask," Jim answered.

The three older men looked at one another. 

Mr. Tyler stood up and Jim did, too.

"Thank you for coming to see us, Mr. Connolly. We'll be in touch with you soon."

******************** 

Jim was passing by Prof. Stark's office again the next day. His mentor saw him in a hallway and asked him to stop in.

"I hope you know that Douglas is going to give you an offer," he told Jim. "That was a heck of an accounting you gave of yourself yesterday."

Jim flushed while the professor's words sunk in. He thought it was a good interview, but one is never certain.

"Are you sure, Professor? I thought maybe they didn't like my answer to the last question. I should have been ready for the question, I suppose, but I wasn't. But what I said is the truth. It's all I can give them. But they sent me away right after I said it."

The professor shook his head.

"Frank, Gerry and I had dinner last night after you left. Gerry said your answers were so good that he sent you away so that you wouldn't have a chance to spoil your perfect record."

Jim let out a nervous laugh.

"You're kidding."

"I'm not kidding and Jerry liked your answer to the last question the best. I, personally, would have to agree with him."

"Sir, I don't know what to say."

"There isn't much to say, Jim. Just be patient and you should get some mail from them pretty soon. I'm not saying that you have to accept, but you've got to give this one a lot of thought. They're a premier company. I would say the best."

Professor Stark was thumbing some papers in a nervous way and Jim could tell he still had something else on his mind.

"I was wondering if you've given any more thought to staying on for the Master's Program next year. It's there if you want it. It would be up to you, of course."

Jim had already thought it over and was prepared with his answer.

"Professor, I'm very grateful. It's a tempting offer and my family would like me to stay. But, you see, I've got to get out there and begin earning my own way. I can't let my parents cough up any more money on my education and I've got a lot of loans. My car barely runs."

Professor Stark nodded that he understood.

"This development from Douglas makes it feel so close," he told Jim. "And it is, really. But, my offer still stands until you tell me officially that you're turning it down. At least, keep it in the back of your mind for a while."

The professor was right, of course. Jim always liked to visit him. He had a way of understanding his students and pushing them harder at the same time. Jim wondered what life would be like without Professor Stark's voice in his ear.

"Professor Stark, you've done a lot for me over these five years and..." 

"It's my job, Jim, and doing it for you has been a pleasure. But, you have to think of yourself now. Whatever you decide, it has to be what you think is right for you."

The professor excused himself because he had a class scheduled. They shook hands and left the room together. Jim's day was over and he had a lot of things to think about. He decided to go back to his apartment and have a beer with Rich.

"I told you to stop worrying," Rich said to him as he tossed him a can of beer. "It seems to me that the more you worry about something the less there is to worry about. It looks like things are shaping up for you."

"Maybe so," Jim conceded. "Have you decided on what you're going to do yet?"

"It's between the offers from Caterpillar and Illinois Machine," Rich said. "They're pretty close." 

"Not a bad choice to make," Jim said. "What plans have you got for the weekend?"

"I thought I would call Chelsea and see if she wants to go the submarine races. What about you?"

"When I injured my wrist at practice last week the coach took me off the travel team, so I won't be making the trip to Penn State this weekend. I thought I would take a trip home and talk to my parents about what's going on with Douglas Chemical. I'll see if Hildy wants to go out."

"I bet I know how you hurt your wrist," Rich chortled.

"Wise ass," Jim bantered back.

"Why don't you see if Hildy will solve that problem of yours?" Rich countered.

"We'll see—I dunno," Jim answered. "I know I have a problem, but these days I'm not sure if it's not having sex or wanting it too much. Maybe it's not grabbing it when I've had the chance or maybe trying too hard to get it." 

"It's hard to solve a problem when you know you have one but aren't sure what the real problem is. It's like solving a physics problem. If you use the wrong equation it can get you further away from the solution than if you'd done nothing."

"Whew! You sound like you need another beer."

Jim looked up just in time to see a beer can flying through the air at him. He caught it and popped the top and then took a gulp. Good ol' Rich. He always seemed to have an answer ready.

*************************** 

Jim was careful to not get his parents' expectations up too much during his visit. An assurance from Professor Stark was fine, but it sure wasn't an official offer and Jim knew anything could happen. 

He was especially careful not to mention the conversation he had with the professor about the Master's program. That was sure to have set off a big debate and Jim was sure that he was at a point in which he would have to think for himself. 

He thought about these things as he drove his father's Catalina to Hildy's house. She was still living at home so he knew that there wouldn't be any use not to plan to return to his parents' house that night. In the morning he planned to head back to school.

"It's more like it's her parents' house," he was thinking as he drove, "because if I was in her shoes and I had to put up with what she does I wouldn't call it my house."

Of course, he wouldn't have put up with it and he wished that Hildy wouldn't either, but he wasn't going to pressure her. He judged that she had enough pressure already.

He pulled into Hildy's driveway and began wondering what kind of reception he would get after the blowup with her father. He was half expecting Hildy to scamper out of the back door to avoid a confrontation. When she didn't he shut off the motor and in a few seconds he was knocking at the back door. 

No one answered at first and he tried to listen through the door but all was quiet. He was certain that Hildy's father wouldn't let her out of the house and wouldn't answer the door either. He decided that he'd reached the end of his rope with the old man. He knew he would have to do something.

After a minute he heard steps approaching the door. He drew a breath, ready for anything. To his surprise it was Hildy who opened the door. She was smiling.

"Come in," she said.

He stepped into the kitchen and she kissed him.

"Did you miss me," she asked. 

"Hildy, I always miss you. You should know that by now."

Jim looked around the kitchen and the only light was what was left of the fading daylight in the window. He looked down the hallway and he could see a light on in the living room.

"My mother is there," Hildy explained when she saw him looking. "My father's upstairs. He won't come down while you're here. By the way, I missed you, too." 

She kissed him again and she took her time doing it. Jim was confused. How could she appear so comfortable in a place where she shouldn't feel that way? 

"We can go now," she said, putting on her coat.

They walked out the door and Jim opened the passenger's door for her. 

"I see you've got your father's car again," she said. "Too bad."

Jim slipped into the driver's seat.

"Too bad? I don't get it."

"Because that tells me that you plan on going back to your parents' house tonight," she said.

"You know how things were the last time I saw you. I just assumed..."

"Things are different now," Hildy answered. "After you stood up to my father at MacIver's he changed. He still doesn't like you very much, but he isn't giving me a hard time about it anymore. He just mumbles 'what will be, will be'." 

"That's not much of a change," Jim said.

"It's a start and it's a lot better now than it was. Now I can talk to my date in my own house without being embarrassed. You can't know how much better I feel now."

Jim was turning onto the main road. They passed MacIver's bar. For a brief second he thought about taking Hildy in for a beer, but realized that he didn't really want a beer and what he did want he wasn't very proud of. He passed MacIver's by.

"Let's get something to eat," he said and they headed for the diner.

While he was driving Jim thought about Hildy's father.

"Why didn't your father just come down stairs and we could have buried the hatchet?" he asked her.

There, he felt better. He atoned for wanting to take Hildy on a victory lap around MacIver's bar.

"That would be asking too much," Hildy said. "Maybe someday."

The waitress had brought the coffee. They each ordered the fried chicken dinner. She scribbled it on her pad and then walked away. Jim lifted the coffee cup.

"Here's to 'someday'."

He was hoping that his comment hadn't sounded sarcastic like he feared it had. He had to admit that he still felt some bitterness toward Mr. Wertz, but he was trying hard to put it aside.

"Hildy, let's talk about something else. I've got some good news to tell you."

He ended up telling Hildy all about his interview with Douglas Chemical and his conversation with Professor Stark. He told her how it was a difficult choice to make.

"Right now I'm leaning toward taking the job with Douglas Chemical."

"Where is Douglas Chemical?" she asked.

"They have plants all over the world. Their headquarters is in Michigan."

"All over the world?"

"That's right. But I don't want to say 'yes' without thinking about it first. I just don't want to overlook anything."

"What about other companies?" Hildy asked.

"I've pretty much got it narrowed down to Douglass, or coming back to Campbell for the Masters Program next year. There are a lot of very good companies out there. I think that Douglas is the best. It wouldn't be fair if I signed with one of the others and be wishing it had been Douglas."

Hildy didn't answer right away. Jim noticed that she began looking around the room, which was unusual for her. Then, she was looking at him again. She was smiling, but Jim thought it might be forced a little.

"You've got to do whatever you think is right for you, Jim. You've worked so hard. Don't settle for anything less that what you want. Just go for it and do what you want to do."

"Of course, I don't even have an official offer from them yet. I have to wait..."

"If it's not them, it will be some other company," Hildy said. "I have no doubt about it. You're real smart and you work real hard. Some one is bound to pick you up."

"Whatever company it is, it would be out of town," he told her. "There aren't any chemical companies in this area." 

They were nearly finished with their dinners.

"What movie do you want to see?" she asked. 

"How about 'The Devil in Miss Jones'?"

"Fat chance!" Hildy laughed. "If you want to see a skin flick we could go to Darlene's apartment."

Jim felt a surge go through him. 

"Let's go to Darlene's, then. I'll just have to stop at a drug store and..."

"Sorry," Hildy said and her face was turning red. "I would go with you except that Darlene is out of town this week. We can't get in. I was wrong to tease you. I'm sorry."

"Give me a rain check?" he asked.

"Rain check?"

"Another chance at another time," he explained.

"Sure thing," she whispered. "Some time soon, I hope."

She was smiling again and looking at Jim and not around the room like she had been. That made Jim feel better, but he couldn't help but feel that something in her meaning had been left behind.

"How about 'That's Entertainment'?" she said.

"How about 'Blazing Saddles'?"

"How about 'That's Entertainment'?" she said again after he paid the bill and they were walking through the parking lot to the car.

'That's Entertainment' it was.

*********************** 

Jim was driving home after dropping Hildy off. It was a nice date, but something seemed not quite right. It had started in the diner as he was telling Hildy about Douglas Chemical. The word 'overlooked' kept popping into his thoughts. He was stopped at a red light when it came to him.

"Overlooked!"

He slapped himself on the forehead.

"I overlooked Hildy. When am I going to stop being a jerk?"




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 07



It was true. It was all so clear a bit too late. 

"I was too busy shouting 'hooray for me!'. Now she doesn't know where she stands."

He thought about turning back to her house and setting her straight. He was half convinced to do just that, but he was nearly at his parents' house. By the time he would be knocking at her door she would be getting ready for bed.

"I might even see her in her curlers, and then she would be mad as well as hurt."

He decided not to turn around. He kept on driving to his parents' house.

"Why didn't she say something? It's partly her fault. Maybe she doesn't care as much as I thought."

That line of thinking was baloney, and Jim knew it.

"I've got to do something about this. I'll call tomorrow. No—I'll go see her tomorrow. We'll get things straightened out."

He was turning into his parents' driveway.

"But what will I say to her?"

It was another thing that he'd overlooked. In all of the months that he'd known her he had only just reacted to whatever situation he'd encountered. There was nothing official, no claims registered by either party. 

"I've got to figure this out." 

He switched off the motor and locked the car. He went into the house and up to his room. He got into bed, but sleep did not come easy. 

****************** 

TO BE CONTINUED



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 08



Chapter 8 — "...can you picnic?" 

April 1974

Jim was up early the next day. It was six o'clock on that Sunday morning. He was the first in the house to shower and get dressed. His dirty clothes that he brought home were still in the laundry. His mother was planning on doing them later that day. Jim was hoping that his activity would wake the rest of the house. 

It wasn't like he bounced out of bed wide awake and full of energy. It hadn't been a good night for sleep. He rattled around in the cupboard looking for the works to the coffee maker. He finally found them and started spooning some grounds into the bowl on the percolator.

"I don't know how you make coffee at your apartment. Your father and I don't like it quite that strong."

It was his mother, dressed in her robe and slippers, and she nudged him out of the way and took over making breakfast. 

"Sorry, Ma, I didn't mean to wake you."

His mother shrugged. 

"I would have been up in another hour, anyway."

He sat down for a second but then bounced back up. He began pacing around the downstairs.

"How come you're up so early? You look like you've got something on your mind."

"I've got a lot of things on my mind, Ma."

"That was true last night before you went out on your date, but you weren't so fidgety."

Mothers—particularly his mother—why did they always know everything despite all the efforts made to keep them in the dark?

"It's something I've got to work out, Ma," he answered.

"Okay," she said and went about mixing milk and eggs and flour into pancake batter.

He knew when she said 'okay' it really meant 'you're going to tell me sooner or later, anyway, so you may as well tell me now."

"I think she once worked for the KGB." 

"Look, Ma, it's nothing serious," he said out loud.

She looked at him and kept on stirring her batter.

"Then why are you so fidgety?"

Jim blew out a breath.

"What's the use? I'm going to tell her sooner or later, anyway, so I might as well tell her now."

"I think I hurt Hildy's feelings last night," he said.

"Oh?"

'Oh?' meant 'you haven't explained anything yet, so start talking and don't stop until I tell you to stop'.

"I think she feels left out," he said.

"Left out? What did you say to her," his mother asked.

"It's what I didn't say," Jim explained. "I told her all about my job interview with Douglas Chemical and everything. I told her they're in Michigan with plants all over the world. I told her I was probably going to accept when they make an offer. I told her all my plans except where she fits into them."

His mother had finished mixing the batter. Jim could hear his father shuffling around upstairs. Soon he would be coming down for breakfast. His mother plugged in the electric griddle and stood facing Jim while she waited for the griddle to warm up.

"I think I understand now," she said. "What did Hildy say?"

"She said to do whatever I think is right for me. She told me not to settle for less."

"And she never asked where she fit in—only said to do what was right for you?"

"Yes, Ma," Jim answered.

His mother thought a minute. She took a deep breath.

"Well, Jim, I've never met this girl. From what you tell me I think you should be asking yourself what kind of person she is to have said that."

She paused and Jim was trying to parse the meaning of what his mother was saying.

"And I agree with her," his mother added, "you should find out what is right for you, and then do it. And I agree with you. She has a right to know where she fits in."

************************* 

Jim's mother agreed to do his laundry that morning so that he could get an early start back to school. At ten o'clock Jim decided to give Hildy a call.

Jim: "Hello, may I speak with Hildy, please?"

Voice:"Hildy's not here. She's out for the day."

Jim recognized the voice. It was Hildy's father. He was almost certain that the old bird was lying to him, but the thought came to him that perhaps what old Herbert said was true and Hildy had gone out for the day so Jim couldn't reach her. 

He had to find out. He was thinking of the right words to say, or maybe he would hang up and just drive out to her parents' place and knock on the door.

Hildy:"Father, don't do that! Hello, Jim. I'm here. My father was just up to his old tricks."

Jim heard a click and it was clear that Hildy had picked up the extension. Jim was impressed. The old Hildy would have just allowed her father to bully her. 

Hildy:"I didn't expect to hear from you today."

Jim: "I'd like to talk to you for a little while this afternoon before I drive back to school."

Hildy:"I don't know if I..."

Jim: "Just for a little while, Hildy. We'll have lunch at the diner. I'll pick you up. What do you say?"

There was a pause on the line. It was probably only five seconds or so. Jim thought it was more like an hour. He expected her to say 'no'.

Hildy:"Alright. But don't bother picking me up. I'll meet you there at noon", and hung up.

Jim set the phone down on the receiver. He was glad that he'd called her. He would get to talk to her—explain away his omission of the previous night. She would understand why she shouldn't be upset with him and all would be well again. 

They could be just like they were before he'd made his awful blunder. He would fix everything, just like when he would help his fraternity brothers with derivatives and integrals. 

There was, however, a single nagging problem remaining. He didn't know what he was going to say. 

*************** 

It was noon and he was almost at the restaurant. He was a bit worried because it seemed that the conversation earlier that morning was on the icy side and that was unlike Hildy. 

"Maybe this nice weather will thaw her out."

It was a beautiful day, the first of the spring. The temperature had crested at a shade over seventy and the slightest of breezes just served to bring in more balmy air.

"This is a good sign."

His superstitious thought surprised him, because Jim didn't believe in signs and omens. 

"This thing has me tied up in knots." 

He was searching for a parking space. On a beautiful Sunday at noon the diner was packed. He spotted Hildy's purple Duster a few rows over. She was inside her car waiting for him. He parked the Rustmobile and then walked over to her car. As he approached she opened the car door and got out.

"Hi," she said as he walked up to her.

"I'm glad you could make it," he said.

He was looking for her smile but couldn't find it. Her smile, so natural and freely given, became all that he wanted at the moment, but he knew he couldn't just ask for it. He had a lot of fixing to do.

"It looks crowded. We might have to wait for a table," he said.

Hildy shrugged and they walked together to the front door of the diner. As they were about to mount the steps Jim stopped.

"Hildy," he said, "we've drunk more coffee in this place during the past few months than Juan Valdez. It's so nice today. Why don't we get something to take out and find a place outdoors to eat lunch?"

Hildy scrunched her nose in that confused look.

"Who is Juan Valdez?" she demanded.

"You know; the guy on the TV commercials who grows coffee in the mountains of Colombia."

Hildy rolled her eyes and began laughing. It was a corny joke, Jim knew, but she was laughing and it wasn't possible to laugh without smiling. Jim surmised that he'd hit the jackpot.

"We'll get this straightened out," he said to himself.

"I know a place we can go," Hildy said. "It's not very far away."

They each ordered cheeseburgers and fries with milkshakes to take with them. 

"Follow me in your car," she told him as they left the diner.

**************** 

Jim got in his car and found her Duster at the exit of the parking lot. She turned left, heading further out to the rural area, in the direction of her parents' house. 

"She lives out here. She knows where she's going," Jim thought as he followed her on the State highway.

At the turnoff that Jim had taken many times to pick Hildy up at her parents' house the purple Duster's right directional began blinking.

"She's leading me back to her parents' house!"

Jim wondered what was in store for him at the end of the ride. He recalled her father's attempt to sandbag him earlier that day on the telephone. Ahead of him the Duster kept rolling along.

Just as he was getting ready for something unpleasant at Hildy's parents' house, the Duster's left directional blinked again. Hildy turned into a gravel parking lot and Jim followed. He didn't look around much. He was just relieved that Hildy had turned off. 

There were no other cars in the lot. Hildy stopped the car at the far end of the lot and Jim parked his car next to hers. In front of him was the edge of a wooded glade of pine trees. He got out of the car. Hildy was already waiting for him.

"There's a picnic area over there," she said and pointed to a clearing about fifty yards away that Jim had not noticed. 

In the distance there were a half dozen wooden picnic tables. None were in use, despite the balmy weather as it was only mid-April. They carried their take-out lunches with them and made their way to the field where the picnic tables seemed to be waiting for them.

"The field is still a little muddy," Hildy said.

She set her food on the picnic table closest to the woods, threaded her long legs over the bench and then sat down. Jim sat down on the bench across from her.

"I'm glad it turned out to be such a nice day. I'm tired of winter."

Hildy didn't answer at first.

"There could still be some storms ahead," she said at last.

Jim took the hint and decided to ease into the subject instead jump right in. He wished he could know what she was thinking. 

"Maybe some small talk will draw her out."

He unwrapped his cheeseburger and fries and stuck a straw into the plastic top of his milkshake cup. 

"Sure turned out to be a nice day," he said again.

Hildy didn't say anything, choosing to nibble at a French fry and at last she looked up at him.

"I'll bet you thought I was leading you back to my house," she said.

"No, the thought never crossed..."

He stopped himself in mid-sentence because she gave him the 'I'm not buying it' look. He began again. 

"The thought might have occurred to me. Hildy, why do you always know what I'm thinking?"

"I don't always know, Jim, but to be honest this time it was an easy guess. Do you really think that I would do that to you?"

It occurred to him that Hildy really had a way with words. She always managed to ask a simple question that made him feel bad when he most deserved it.

"I suppose not, Hildy, but after the thing with your father on the phone this morning, I had no idea..."

"I guess that's fair enough," she answered. "I owe you that. If you hadn't stood up to him at MacIver's, I would never have been able to stand up to him this morning."

They ate for a while. Jim found it hard to make small talk. He had a lot on his mind and didn't know how to start. Small talk just didn't seem to want to come out.

"You don't recognize this place, do you?" she asked. 

"I'm sorry, Hildy. I don't."

"That parking lot we pulled into is the same one I told you to pull into the night you took me to the Shakespeare Room."

"I'm sorry, Hildy, I should have remembered."

It didn't seem like Hildy was listening to him.

"I wonder," she said, "if you had pulled in here that night if we would be sitting here today."

"What would you have done if I had pulled into the lot instead of taking you home?"

"Anything that would have asked me to," she said.

"But I didn't ask anything," he said.

"You asked me to be patient—and I have been," she answered him back. "I've been patient about a lot of things."

Jim felt his hands shaking. They had never done that before. It hadn't even happened during his interview with Mr. Tyler from Douglas Chemical, or when he chose a university to attend or the first time he tried a pole vault at a college-level track meet with a thousand people watching or even when Ashley was unzipping his pants that past September. 

"You have been patient, Hildy. That's why I wanted to talk to you before I went back to school today. You see..."

"I hope you realize," she interrupted, "that we're going to get a huge rainstorm in a few minutes."

He thought she was putting him off, not willing to give him a chance to speak his piece. He looked out over her shoulder as she sat on the bench across from him. The sky was a perfect blue. The breeze had come up a bit stronger, but the weather was still faultless.

"Look behind you," she said.

He did turn backward to see what she was talking about. It was coming. The clouds were an angry purple and the wind was picking up. Hildy was already gathering up their half-eaten lunches.

"Let's run for the cars," she shouted as the wind made it difficult to hear.

Jim gathered up the rest of the food and the wrappers. He thought they could make it to the parking lot, but he was wrong.

The rain came all of a sudden and it came hard. It took only a few seconds to drench them. There was nothing to do but keep moving toward the parking lot. Hildy was the first to arrive at her car. She unlocked the door and jumped into the driver' seat. Jim came running up and he saw her reach over to unlock the passenger's door from the inside.

"Wow! That came up fast," Jim said after he'd closed the car door.

The rain came in big drops. It pelted on the roof of the Duster and it almost seemed like a rhythm.

"We'll have to finish our lunch in here, I guess," he said.

Hildy sighed and was looking over her food to see how well it had survived the trek through the rain.

"It seems like we always end up like this," she said, a glum tone in her voice. "We can't even have a picnic in a park. Or..."

"I know, Hildy, but we always make the most of it," Jim said.

"Or meet up at Darlene's apartment," she went on, "or do anything else we want to do."

Hildy's face was wet from the rain, but Jim could tell she was crying. 

"Have you got a towel or something to dry your face off, Hildy, because your face is so wet it looks like you're crying. And I don't want you to be crying."

She wiped her face with her hand and turned her head and smiled at him, as well as she could. 

"I'm drenched and that's making me cold," she said. "I'm going to start the car so we can turn on the heater."

She turned the ignition and the Duster started up. There was a tape cartridge that she had left in the eight-track player. She must have been listening to it while she was driving. The Fifth Dimension began singing "Stoned Soul Picnic".

"Can you surry, can you picnic?" the words began.

Hildy buried her face in her hands and then peaked out at Jim. She began to laugh. Jim could see the humor in the irony and began to laugh, too.

"Hildy, what do you think is the probability..."

"I don't know," she said as she shook her head and laughed some more.

"Hildy," Jim started to ask, "what would have been the odds that you and I would have a...would have been ..."

"A couple?" she asked.

"Yes, a couple," he answered. "After all these months and times we've been together I should be able to talk to you about something important, don't you think?"

"I suppose so," she answered in a weak voice.

He took a deep breath, one final chance to screw up his courage.

"Please, just hear me out," he said. "I've got a lot on my mind."

"I'm listening," she said in a voice that weaker still.

It was like the time he dove off the high platform board at the pool back at school. It was a long, deep plunge. He knew that he wanted to do it. A voice in his head pleaded with him to hold back and be safe. He forced himself to make the jump, just the same, and then he was glad that he ignored the voice.

"Hildy, I know I hurt you yesterday," he began. "Sometimes I have to make a big mistake before I realize that what I've done. I'm sorry that I hurt you—and don't say I didn't because I know that I did."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Are you going to make me say the whole thing?"

She nodded her head 'yes' and Jim reminded himself that he never thought that it was going to be easy.

"I was so excited to tell you all about my job prospect," he explained, "I forgot about you. I just blurted everything out and never thought about you. I'm sorry Hildy."

"It's okay," she replied.

"You just told me to 'do what was right for me—never asked where you fit in. You had a right to ask that. You should have asked."

"It was your turn to be happy. I didn't want to spoil it."

"I should have known you would do that," he said. "You cared more about me than for yourself. I realized that after I dropped you off. You deserved better."

Hildy was sobbing and she wouldn't look at Jim. He thought that he was fixing everything up, but he had just hurt her more. It was beyond his understanding. He stopped for a minute watching her sobbing with her face buried in her hands.

"I'm going to finish this no matter what."

"It's just that it's all happening so fast. I realized what I'd done while I was driving home last night, but it was too late to turn around and explain it to you. That's why I called you this morning."

"Just to tell me that you're sorry?" she asked, still hiding her face.

"Now for the hard part," he said to himself.

"No, he said, "I have more to say to you."

He knew that he sounded stern, and he hadn't meant to, but it was okay because she looked at him. 

"Now is the time," he thought.

"I don't know how to say it any other way, Hildy," he began. "I can't think of you as just a date anymore. I have feelings for you. I need to know something from you."

"What?" she asked and her voice was urgent.

"Like I said, I've come to care very much for you. I'd like to know if...if we gave it some time, if there would be any way that you could...you know..."

"What?" she demanded again.

"If you could possibly, someday have some of those same feelings for me."

She gasped, staring at him wide-eyed.

"I thought you were going to break up with me," she said in a whisper.

"No, Hildy, I never thought about doing anything like that."

"Do you mean it?" she demanded in a clear, strong voice.

"Yes, Hildy, I would never fool around about anything like this."

She reached over and grabbed his shirt collar with both hands.

"You've got to swear to me that you really mean it." 

"I do Hildy, I swear. I just need to know..."

She collapsed against him and buried her face in his shoulder. She was panting, groping for breath. He put his arms around her, wet clothes and all. He decided to let her settle down. After a few minutes she began speaking.

"There were a lot of times after you took me home from one of our dates when I would let myself dream about it," she said. "But I didn't want to let myself believe it. I knew that someday it would all go bad and when that happened it would be even worse. But my dreams wouldn't stop, so I braced myself and knew that someday it would all come to an end and it was really going to hurt bad. But I kept hoping just the same."

"Hildy, you shouldn't have to live like that. It must have caused you a lot of suffering and I was the reason. I'm so sorry."

She relaxed some more and was breathing easier.

"Yes, I was hurt," she said, "but I'm not hurt now."

She shifted a bit and put her hands around the back of his head. She kissed him, tender at first and then again, but hungrier. She did it again and again as though she was claiming him. He thought he would kiss her back, but he couldn't bear to halt what she had begun. 

It was as though her insides had been in shackles all the months he had known her and she had freed herself, or maybe it was he who had freed her. For that question he knew there was no answer. 




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 08



"Every chain has at least two links," he decided and knew that answer would have to suffice.

After some time she broke away and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I wish that we were making love to each other right now," she whispered to him, and then he felt her tongue dance over his earlobe.

He thought at once to mention Darlene's apartment, but stopped because he was afraid that it might sound opportunistic and ruin the moment.

"Darlene is seeing someone and I think they're probably together right now in her apartment," she told him. "We can't go bursting in unannounced. I wish we could be there together right now."

Jim drew a deep breath.

"Hildy, just hearing you say that means a lot to me."

She looked up at him.

"I've said it before, at least in so many words."

"You didn't say it like you just did. The other times it was something you were agreeing to do. This is a lot different," Jim answered. "It's something I'm going to remember for a long time."

"I never meant it quite this way before," she said.

They relaxed, holding each other for a while. Her clothes and hair were still wet from the rain. There had been times when he'd held her and taken more pleasure from the feeling of her body next to his. But he had never held her when she was all his and he decided this it was the best of her that he'd ever had. 

She didn't move, but he felt her take a breath. 

"You must promise me," she said, "that if you ever change your mind you'll tell me right away. I want to always be sure it's real between us, so please promise me that."

"Hildy, you don't have to worry..."

.

"Just promise me—and make sure you keep that promise."

"Yes, Hildy, I promise."

She relaxed again but in a few seconds she spoke again.

"How do you think we'll end up," she asked.

Jim was ready for the question.

"Well, I think we're headed toward, you know...maybe someday we'll be...be..."

"Married?" she asked.

"I suppose so, Hildy. But, I can't ask you that now. I have no money, no job. All I have is a Rustmobile and who knows how long that will last?"

"Jim," she answered, "I would go with you if you asked me to live in a cardboard box."

He laughed a bit.

"Well, I won't be asking you to do that. Things will work out for us, Hildy. It's something that's meant to be."

"Darlene told me from the start we would end up like this," she purred. "She would remind me whenever I stopped believing, and I would be patient for a while longer."

"Did she tell you when I gave you that crummy hat and scarf set for Christmas?" 

"She thought it was cute," Hildy laughed. "Besides, I like it."

"I'm liking Darlene more all the time," Jim replied.

The Fifth Dimension tape had been playing all the while. They had been too busy to hear it. As they sat in the car, thinking about what had just happened to them the tape had recycled to "Stoned Soul Picnic". They listened to some of the words:

There'll be trains of blossoms

There'll be trains of music

There'll be trains of trust

Trains of gold and dust

Sweet trains of thought

Can you surry? Can you picnic?

TO BE CONTINUED



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 09



Chapter 9 — Passing Through

May 1974

April was giving way to May. Jim turned in his final project. He thought it came out well, and Professor Stark did, too. Final exams were looming. Jim knew that he was prepared and that meant that he would do well. 

His wrist was healed well enough to put him back on the Track Team. It didn't look good for a letter in his final year. Jim figured he had to get at least a third in one of the three remaining dual meets and a third in the Conference Championship. Points earned in the Conference Finals counted triple those earned in dual meet points.

The two things most on his mind, of course, were Hildy and getting an answer from Douglas Chemical. Hildy had gone up a big notch since their last date when it rained on their picnic. Having declared for each other it seemed natural to think about the future and all that meant. The non-answer from Douglas made him feel like he was walking on quicksand, but Professor Stark told him to be patient, so he was.

Rich was busy at the stove making dinner. Jim wanted to help but Rich told him to stay out of the kitchen because Jim was so nervous that he was driving him crazy.

"They're sure taking their sweet time," he said to Rich. "What could they be waiting for?"

"You asked me that already about fifteen minutes ago," Rich answered, not even looking up from the pot of spaghetti sauce he was stirring. 

"I suppose, but..."

"They want to see if they can drive you nuts before they answer you," Rich said. "I think they are. Didn't Stark tell you not to worry?"

"If they weren't interested in you they would have sent you a 'no thanks' letter long ago and put an end to it," Jim's professor had told him.

"Why don't you think of Hildy, and how you're going to get her into bed? That should make you feel better." 

Jim knew Rich was right. He had to admit that he wasn't thinking enough about Hildy in recent days. 

"Just don't re-injure your wrist while you're making yourself feel better," Rich said as an afterthought.

"If you weren't making dinner I'd throw something at you. Why don't you pass me a beer," Jim said.

Rich shook his head.

"Beer is not allowed with spaghetti. There's a bottle of Chianti over there. Drink some of that."

Jim poured himself a glass of the dry wine and one for Rich and brought it over to him. He sat at the kitchen table. He took a sip.

"So, you and Hildy are officially a couple," Rich mused. "I wouldn't have believed it last September, but here you are."

"I suppose so," Jim said. "I wouldn't have thought it. It's just working out that way." 

"Just tell me something," Rich said as he set two plates of spaghetti and sauce on the table. "Would you buy a pair of pants without trying them on first?"

"Maybe," Jim said.

"Would you buy a car without taking it out for a test drive?" Rich asked again.

"You never know, Rich. Stranger things have happened."

"Would you consider riding a horse before checking out the saddle?"

"The answer is 'yes', Rich. Hildy and I are a couple now, even though we haven't made love," Jim said.

"I wasn't talking about 'making love'," Rich said thorough a mouthful of spaghetti. "I was talking about..."

"I get it, Rich. Now that Hildy and I have a different status, I have to call it that. Anything else wouldn't be right."

Rich was chuckling as he twirled the spaghetti around his fork. 

"I know it's not how a lot of people would do it. If we were starting over we might not do it the same way. But Hildy has just gotten inside me so deep that I don't even want to think about being without her."

"I'm going to start calling you 'Rainbow Trout'," Rich laughed, "because she's got you hooked and she's reeling you in."

Jim couldn't help but laugh a little bit as Rich pretended to turn the crank on an imaginary fishing reel.

"I suppose it's true," Jim admitted. "But so far I've gotten the better of it. She does a lot for me and I'm always scrambling to make things up to her after I've screwed up. She accepts getting the short end and never complains. I just hope I can make it up to her before she figures it out."

"You didn't utter the "M" word, did you?"

"No, but it was a close call. Hildy picked up on it and she said it. I told her I couldn't propose to her without a job in hand first."

Rich shook his head and began winding his imaginary fishing reel again.

"Promise me one thing," Rich said. "You two are actually going to do it someday, aren't you? This isn't some sort of priest-nun thing, is it?"

"You can bet on that. It may be soon. I think I'm going to ask her to come down for the formal dinner-dance."

"Two virgins going at it," Rich laughed. "If I had any money I'd pay it all for the movie rights."

"Don't worry Rich, we'll figure it out."

"Well, if you need any help..."

"Don't worry Rich, we'll figure it out," Jim said again for effect. "By the way, are you taking Chelsea? It will be your last chance to take her anywhere decent before you graduate."

"I already asked her. We'll be going to her place later, so you and Hildy can have the whole place to yourself."

Jim thought a moment while he finished off his Chianti. He poured himself another glass and filled up Rich's glass, too.

"So you and Chelsea are becoming a couple, too."

Rich held up his hand like a traffic cop.

"Whoa," he said, "for us it's strictly recreation. I'm heading for my job in Illinois after graduation and she has another year to go. After that she says she's wants to work in New York City, so never the 'tween shall meet."

"Chelsea seems to be alright, even after living in the same apartment as Ashley for two years."

"Ashley's not so bad. You just got off on the wrong foot with her," Rich said. "She taught Chelsea a lot of things and for that I'm grateful."

"Who's taking Ashley to the formal? I've never known her to be without a date at this event."

"Stevie Sadowski," Rich answered, "a good match if there ever was one. She'll trim the horns off that little weasel."

*************************** 

On the second Saturday of every May the fraternity held a formal dinner-dance to celebrate the end of classes. Most of the brothers rented tuxes or dinner jackets. Their dates would wear formal gowns made of some kind of silky, shiny, showy, pastel-colored fabric with matching cleavage.

Jim had only taken a date to the affair a single time and that didn't turn out like he'd hoped. In his first, as a freshman, he waited table at the event as all pledges were required to do. The other two years he sat with the contingent of brothers who went stag and borrowed the other brothers' dates for a dance every so often. Later, when they tired of dancing (which could be sooner rather than later), they would retire to the basement of the frat lodge where a keg of beer was waiting.

It was going to be Jim's last spring formal dinner dance, and for some reason that he couldn't completely understand, he decided to forgo the keg in the basement and wanted to take Hildy. He was hoping that Hildy might be able to pry herself loose from her father's house. 

Hildy had been ready to move out of the house to Darlene's apartment until Darlene developed landlord problems. She was becoming less afraid and her parents seemed to accept it. He was sure she would be home after the dinner hour, so he gave her a call. 

The conversation started with small talk and she asked if had heard from Douglas Chemical. After saying 'not yet' he told her about the Track Meet with Bucknell the following weekend and how he needed at least a third to have any hope for a letter. Then he got to the point.

Jim: "Hildy, what are you doing a week from Saturday?"

Hildy:"Nothing; not yet at least. I promised that I would go to Aunt Mildred's birthday party the next day. Her age is catching up with her, so I don't want to miss it."

Jim:"How about coming down here for a visit. There's a formal dinner-dance Saturday night. It will be my last one before I graduate. How about it?"

Hildy:"I don't have anything to wear to something like that."

Jim:"You must have something. Maybe you could pick up..."

Hildy:"Jim, a gown like that will cost a lot of money—more than a week's pay. Do you really want me to..."

Jim:"I didn't realize that. But..."

Hildy:"I do have a long, pink skirt that I wore to a Valentine's party once. It should still fit. I could wear it with my silk, ruffled blouse. Would that be okay?"

Jim:"Perfect!"

Hildy:"There are hearts embroidered on it. I'll have to take them off."

Jim:"If it's all the same to you, I think I'll wear my navy suit, instead of rent a tux."

Hildy:"Sounds like a fine idea to me. We'll both slum it."

Jim:"What about your father? Are you going to get away?"

Hildy:"I'll do it. I'll work something out. I'll worry about that."

They spent a few more minutes talking about other things.

Jim:"Hildy, we've got to hang up. I could drive up there for the money I'm eating up in Long Distance."

Hildy:"I'll see you soon. I'll write to you tomorrow."

*************** 

Jim left his key for Hildy under the doormat on the Saturday morning of the formal dinner-dance. He didn't think that he would be there when she arrived. He didn't think that Rich would be there, either, because he had to pick up his tux and do some other errands that afternoon.

. 

Jim couldn't be there to meet her because he was competing in the final dual meet of the season against Bucknell. Before the meet he thought he had a good chance to score a third. As it turned out, Jim scored a second as he got over seventeen feet for the first time and Bucknell's best vaulter didn't compete because of an injury. Jim re-injured his wrist on his final attempt in which he hit the bar. He had already cinched his second place in his second try.

After his event was finished Jim went to the locker room to get treatment on his wrist. He was sitting alone with an ice pack on it with nothing to do but think.

"That could have been my last meet ever if this wrist doesn't shape up in time for the Conference Finals."

It would have been a shame to finish his athletic career that way, but the possibility didn't bother him all that much. He sensed that his life was changing. Graduation would be in less than a month. A job offer might be on the table by then. He and Hildy were a new item, though few people knew it. He included her every time he thought about his future plans. Track meets and fraternity parties were fading fast in his priorities list. 

"Hildy! I almost forgot. She must be at the apartment by now."

He wanted to call her to be sure she had found the key he hid for her. There was no phone in the locker room that he could find. He knew there was one in the coach's office. If it was open he would just give the apartment a quick ring. He got up from the chair, complete with ice-pack and walked to the coaches' suite of offices. 

"I knew it would be locked."

He tried them all—even the head football coach's door. They were all locked.

"It's getting to be three-thirty. I'm wasting time."

He was hoping that someone with a key would show up and let him into an office where he could use a phone. He could hear the muted public address outdoors announce that the relays were beginning. That was the culmination of the meet and would take about an hour to do all of them. He knew no one would be coming back to the locker room until they were done.

"I'm not waiting around."

The trainer had told him to leave the ice-pack on his wrist until he came back to look at it. Jim didn't care.

"What's he going to see when he 'looks at it', anyway?"

The wrist would have to heal with or without the ice. He thought that it felt better. He tossed the ice-bag aside. He showered and then left for his apartment.

***************** 

It was after four in the afternoon before Jim was able to coax his Rustmobile to the crest of the hill where his apartment sat. As he did he saw Hildy's purple Duster in the driveway. Rich's car wasn't there, but Jim knew that he would be retuning soon. He parked and then hurried down the terrace steps. He looked in the picture window and saw Hildy sitting at the kitchen table working on a sandwich and a glass of milk.

He borrowed a few seconds to look at her before he went in the door. Hildy was dressed in shorts and a top, just right for the late spring weather. Jim could see that her hair had grown just a bit hair longer than when he'd last seen her. She looked nice. Most of all, Jim liked something that he saw that couldn't quite explain. 

Maybe it was that she looked more comfortable in being where she was, like she belonged there. She seemed unworried and that was something that Jim had seen too few times. Perhaps, she looked a bit older. He had seen enough. Time was wasting and he opened the door.

"I found the key right where you left it under the mat," she said as Jim walked into the apartment. "I was hungry so I made myself a sandwich. I hope you don't mind."

"Hildy, I'm glad you're here."

She rose to her feet and a broad smile etched across her face. 

"Me, too," she said.

Jim moved to where she was standing and held out his arms. She stepped forward and into them. Jim felt her arms encircle him and her hands on his back. They shared a long, gentle kiss. To Jim it felt good and he decided on the spot that the stab of pain in his wrist was worth cutting short the ice treatment.

"Let's make tonight the night," she whispered in his ear.

Jim felt himself begin to shake. He wondered if Hildy could feel it.

"I'm sure she can feel it. How could she not feel it?"

"Hildy, are you sure?" he asked, "Because, if you're not ready, it's okay. We could..."

"Don't you want to?" she pleaded.

"Of course," he answered. 

"Well, I sure do," Hildy said before he could say any more. "I decided it the moment I hung up the phone the night you asked m to go to this party. I was thinking about it so much driving down here today that I had to pinch myself every so often so that I could concentrate on the road."

"Then, tonight it will be," Jim said.

It seemed so final to Jim after the months of telling himself why they were right to put it off. A whispered proposition and an 'of course' meant that the longing for the first time would soon be ended. Of course he desired the end of waiting, but it seemed to him a perfunctory 'good-bye'. 

"That's better," she purred and she kissed him once again.

"Hey break it up you two!"

It was Rich returning to the apartment with his rented tux. 

"Can't you two be left alone for just a few minutes? It must be something in the water!"

He was laughing as he carried the rented white dinner jacket and black pants into his bedroom.

"I was about to suggest that we skip the party and have our own right here," Jim said in a low voice to Hildy. "But it looks like Rich broke that up."

Hildy was laughing.

"Hey, don't blame it on me," Rich called out from the bedroom. "Just remember, I'm here to help."

Hildy looked at Jim.

"What did he mean by that?" she demanded.

"I don't know," Jim answered. "Rich is hard to understand sometimes."

It was one of those little white lies and Jim was sure that Hildy knew it, but this time he was sure that she would let it go. She might have had an idea what the real answer might have been. 

"Some things are better left unsaid."

"Well here's something you can understand," Rich bellowed from his bedroom. "We need to line up for bathroom time. We're supposed to be there in an hour and I'm planning on taking a shower. Then I've got to pick up Chelsea at her place."

"I already took a shower while I was waiting for you," Hildy said. "I'll be ready after I slip on my skirt and blouse and fix my makeup."

"I took a shower in the locker room after the track meet," Jim said.

"Well, I can tell you that you need a shave," Hildy interjected.

"Okay, I'll grab a quick shave and then the bathroom will be all yours, Rich," Jim said.

"I'll clean up the kitchen while you're getting dressed," Hildy called after him as Jim made his way to the bathroom.

Jim was quick in the bathroom, sliding the razor over his face and brushing his teeth for added effect. He bounced into the bedroom and threw on a white dress shirt and his navy suit. He wondered, for a moment if he should have rented a dinner jacket. It was too late to worry, so he grabbed his tie and walked into the living room.

"It's all yours," he said to Hildy, who was sitting on the couch waiting for him.

He watched her walking as she slid past him on her way to the bedroom. Her short-shorts made him remember the company softball game when they first noticed one another. Her legs still made a heck of a statement, although she was only wearing shorts and not the hot pants like she had on that hot night that past July nearly a year ago. Her skin wasn't nearly as tan as it had been then, but it was only May.

"Pretty soon I'll be getting a lot closer look."

It was a refreshing thought. It was a reminder that although he and Hildy had come a long way since that July night, some lust still remained. That was important because earlier he noted how more like a married couple they must have appeared.

While he was thinking he had forgotten to tie his tie. Hildy was already out of the bedroom, dressed and ready to go. He whipped the tie into a knot as fast as he could and fastened his tie tack.

"How do I look?" she asked.

She was wearing a long, ankle-length skirt, just as she said she would and it was a rosy pink for Valentine's Day, just like she said it would be. It was made of a satiny material and there was a black and white border at the bottom. If one looked very hard the outlines of three-inch hearts could be seen where Hildy had removed them. She was wearing a white, long-sleeved blouse that looked like satin.

"You look nice, Hildy," he told her. "I've got a corsage for you."

He went to the refrigerator to bring it out.

"I know," she said. "I saw it when I was looking for something to make a sandwich."

"I was afraid of that."

He pulled the pin out of one of the stems and approached her to attach it to her blouse.

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'd better do that," she said. "This is my good silk blouse."

Jim handed her the corsage and the pin.

"It's not really a corsage," he said. "It's just three pink roses tied together with some white lacy flowers."

"That is a corsage, and I love it," she said. "I'm going to wear it on my wrist so I don't have to stick a pin through my blouse."

She disappeared into the bedroom for a few moments and came out with a white, satin ribbon. 

"I thought I might need this," she said.

She stuck out her arm and Jim threaded the ribbon through the stems and tied it so that it rested on her wrist. When he got close to her he noticed that she smelled like perfume. 

"I like your perfume," he said.

"Actually, it's cologne," she replied. "I'm glad you like it. I just bought it to wear tonight."

"It smells like the stuff I almost bought you for Christmas instead of the scarf and hat," he said. "It looks like I should have bought the cologne instead."

She didn't answer but smiled a little smile.

"I can see you liked my graduation picture," she said at last. "I saw it on your dresser."

"I could have just put it there because I knew you were coming."

Hildy laughed and shook her head. 

"I'm not that easy to fool. I moved the picture frame and saw a layer of dust, so I knew that it had been there a long time."

Jim drew a deep breath. 

"Careful, Hildy, you're starting to sound like my mother."

They were ready to go.

************************** 

Jim and Hildy were driving through the campus on the way to the fraternity house.




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 09



"Mind if we're a little late?" he asked her.

Hildy shrugged. 

"We'll take a detour around the engineering quad. It's where I spent the past five years."

He stayed straight on the street they were on, instead of bearing to the left as he would have done if he was going straight to the fraternity house. In a few minutes they were parked in a lot looking over a quadrangle of buildings. 

"Let's get out and walk around," he said.

Hildy got out of the car and waited for Jim to join her. She held out her hand and he took it as they started walking. The weather was quite pleasant, with just a slight breeze, so they were comfortable in shirtsleeves.

They started their walk at the corner of the quadrangle that was closest to the street. On most of the campus the quads were large, grassy fields dotted by statues of ancient professors, striped by cris-crossing cement walks, and lined by old ivy-covered limestone buildings. 

The Engineering School was unlike the rest. There was more cement than grass and the brick buildings gave it an industrial look. The students were somewhat apart, too. Differentials and Organic Chemistry didn't leave very much room for debates about Nixon and whether Gandhi's model of non-violence would work in Western Society.

"This is the Engineering Chem Lab," he told her. "I sure spent more than my share of time in there."

He walked up and tested the doors hoping that he could show Hildy around inside, but the doors were locked.

"Not much going on at this hour on a Saturday afternoon," he said, which he hoped would suffice as an apology as he started to realize that the tour was going to be a bust.

"There are a few people around," Hildy said.

"They're just passing through," Jim said. "For example, see that guy over there with the dark hair and beard? I know him; he goes to the Agriculture School that's in the quad just beyond. He's just taking a shortcut back to his dorm."

"I see," Hildy said and clasped his hand just a bit tighter. 

"I never wanted to be a person who's just passing through," Jim went on. "I never wanted to be a short-cut kind of guy—though I'll admit to a few that I'm sorry for now. I wanted to dig in and be right in the middle of everything; to get my hands buried in it."

"Did you?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "I tried.—I guess I did."

They walked some more, about half-way around the quad. He had her stop in front of one of the larger buildings that was opposite the Chemistry Lab Building.

"This is the Engineering School Library. I probably know every nook and cranny of it. When I roomed at the frat lodge this was the only place where I could study. The librarian said she was going to start charging me rent."

The last remark made Hildy laugh.

"Did she make you pay her?" she asked.

"I couldn't afford it. I put the Rustmobile up as collateral, and then she told me to forget it."

"Now I know you're joking,' Hildy said.

"True," Jim admitted. "I didn't own the Rustmobile back then. I only had a car when Rich and I moved out to the apartment."

He pointed to another brick fortress across the way.

"My advisor's office is the building over there. It's the main building of the Engineering School."

He began to realize that Hildy had been very polite and nodded each time he pointed out a certain building and its function.

"I guess they're just a bunch of brick buildings," he admitted.

"Maybe to some, but they mean a lot to you," she said.

"Sure, but next week are finals and then it's all over."

He felt her stroke his hand. Somehow, it was a comfort. He wondered how another person's hand passing over one's own could do such a thing. As confusing as it was, he could not deny the effect. Of course, to be soothed by the stroke of a hand was somewhat effeminate and not something that he ever thought he might seek or want. At the same time, he didn't pull his had away and he hoped that by not doing so Hildy would understand how he felt.

"You're sad, aren't you? You're going to miss it."

"You see, I have to admit that I don't think I just passed through. There were many things that I did that turned out pretty well. But, after finals and graduation, who knows what's next? Maybe things won't go as well out there and I'll wish I was back here—but I won't be able to get back. I might be passing through somewhere else. I can't allow that to happen, but I might not be able to prevent it" 

Hildy drew a breath and leaned close to him.

"You won't have to worry about that, Jim. People like you always worry about things like that and never have to. I know you well enough. You would never let yourself be one of those 'passing through' kind of people. You wouldn't let yourself. And if you ever do, I'll be there reminding you."

"Do you mean that, Hildy? You know, people like me aren't always fun to have around."

"Don't worry about me," she said. "I'll provide the fun. You see, I'm a 'passing through' kind of person. I know that. It's who I am and I accept it. If I'm part of you, I won't have to explain it to myself anymore."

"And, if I'm part of you?" he asked.

"You won't have to worry about having fun," she said and gave him a playful elbow in the ribs.

They hadn't realized that they had completed the circuit and returned to the car. He opened the passenger door for her and she got in. 

"Have you heard from Douglas Chemicals about your job yet?" she asked when he'd settled into the driver's seat.

"No, nothing; if I ever do you'll be the first to know."

"Why don't you call them?" Hildy asked.

"Professor Stark says to 'hang in there'; it will work out. I want to believe him. He's never steered me wrong yet. Just the same, I applied for the Master's program as a fallback. I'm pretty sure I'll be accepted."

"More school?" Hildy asked. "How long would that take?"

"Another year. But I don't think I could swing it financially. The Engineering School is willing to give me some help, but I'd still have to come up with a lot. CG&E won't even give me my summer job back after I've graduated."

Hildy turned in her seat facing Jim. Her eyes were bright all of a sudden.

"I could move down here! I could find a receptionist job. We could make it. We could move in together."

Jim hadn't been ready for Hildy's offer. He thought it was a big step to 'make tonight the night'. This was going a lot farther than that.

"Hildy, I thought it was the man who's supposed to propose."

Hildy's eyes were still bright. She was leaning forward so that a fresh dose of her cologne floated into Jim's nostrils..

"We wouldn't have to be married—just move in together. A lot of couples are doing it now."

It was true. 'Cohabitation' was the latest thing, especially among the college set. He couldn't help but do some mental math, but he wouldn't allow himself to finish the equation.

"Maybe some people, but not us," he said. "I couldn't ask you to do that. You'd have to give up your job and move down here where you don't know anyone. I'm sure your family would disown you. And, what if it didn't work out? You'd be alone with a mark on you. It's a tempting idea, Hildy, but it's not for us."

"I don't care about any of that," she pleaded. "I just care about you—and us. I always assumed that was going to be my choice—or to end up with some apprentice my father set up for me."

"Someday we'll do it all with no regrets," Jim said. "It's just that we can't do it right away. I couldn't propose to you now. I couldn't even afford a ring. For that matter, I couldn't even afford a diamond chip that they might overlook when they're sweeping up in the diamond ring factory."

Hildy's bright eyes had dimmed. She sat back and looked away.

"We could make it work," she said, but the conviction in her voice was gone.

"We will make it work, Hildy, and it won't be that long. I promise. And I swear—every time I think about these things I'm also thinking about you."

Hildy looked up at him. Her eyes were glistening. 

"Do you promise?" she asked.

"Yes, Hildy, I do."

"We're going to be late," she said. "We better get going."

It reminded Jim of one of his favorite songs by one of his favorite bands, the Chicago Transit Authority:

Does anybody really know what time it is?

Does anybody really care?

If so I can't imagine why.

We've all got time enough to cry

Jim took a look at Hildy and laughed.

"I suggest you look in the mirror. Your makeup is running down your face."

She took a look and let out a small shriek. She reached into her handbag and began her repair work.

In a few minutes they were on their way to the party.

TO BE CONTINUED



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 10



Chapter 10 — Let's Have a Party

May 1974

They arrived late, but not too much. The fraternity house parking lot had always been undersized so Jim had a difficult time wedging the Rustmobile into a space. 

"I'm glad we took this car instead of the Duster," Jim said. "The old Rustmobile can take a few more dents and no one would notice, but the Duster doesn't have any yet.

He turned off the motor and they were about to climb the back steps of the fraternity house when a pick up truck towing a trailer ambled into the lot. It was the equipment for the band that would be playing later that night.

He recognized the person who stepped out of the truck as the set-up guy for the band when they played at the house on other occasions.

"You aren't going to park us in are you?" Jim asked. "We plan to leave on the early side."

"Naw," the burly man said in a gruff voice, "we'll just unload and park the rig on the street somewhere."

Great!" Jim said and he took Hildy's hand and they went into the fraternity house.

When they walked into the foyer the party was in full swing. He looked around for Rich and didn't see him. He'd seen his car in the lot, though, so he knew that he and Chelsea were somewhere in the house.

"Want something to drink?" he asked Hildy.

There was a table covered by a white table cloth with two punch bowls on it surrounded by glasses turned upside down. 

"Is the white stuff the drink with vodka and grapefruit juice?" Hildy asked.

"And sugar. That's right. It's called..."

"Silver Moons," Hildy said. "I remember. I think I'll pass. What about the purple one in the other punch bowl?"

"Purple Passion," Jim answered, "Vodka and Grape Juice with sugar."

"Great choice," Hildy said, "I suppose if I have to choose..."

"Personally, I'd rather have a beer. I never drink that garbage," Jim said. "Follow me."

He led her to the third floor of the fraternity house where there were brothers' rooms. In the connecting hallway there was an old soft drink machine.

"Name your poison," Jim said. "Bud or LaBatts,"

"I guess Budweiser," Hildy said. 

Jim put a quarter into the slot and bottle fell onto the rubber pad in the opening of the machine. There was a bottle opener tied on a string nearby. Jim took off the cap and handed the bottle to her.

"I'm a LaBatts man, myself."

He slid another quarter into the machine. In a few seconds he and Hildy had fresh drinks and turned to head back downstairs.

"I guess we're slumming now," Hildy laughed.

""Not at all," Jim replied. "For me, it's a delicacy to drink beer out of a glass bottle instead of a can."

When they arrived at the second floor landing they met Rich and Chelsea.

"I see you and I had the same idea," Rich said.

Jim introduced Hildy and Chelsea to each other. 

"I'll see you in the dining room," he told Rich.

When Jim and Hildy arrived on the first floor he decided to give Hildy a quick tour of the house. He started with the pool room where guests were placing their empty glasses on the felt of the pool table.

"There would have been a time when that would have upset me, but it's someone else's problem now."

They moved to the parlor. There was a composite picture of all the brothers from 1972.

"That's you!" Hildy shrieked.

"That's right; that was me two years ago."

"A moustache and sideburns? That's hilarious!"

"I don't think it's that funny, Hildy."

It was no use. Hildy was dissolving in laughter and she hadn't even finished half her beer.

As Hildy was composing herself Jim spied Ashley and Chelsea talking in the corner. Chelsea pointed a finger at Hildy and Ashley covered her face as she burst out in laughter. Jim glanced at Hildy and hoped she hadn't noticed.

"I think that girl over there in the green gown thinks it's funny, too," Hildy said. 

As usual, Hildy had noticed and Jim was certain that Hildy knew that Ashley wasn't laughing at his picture from 1972.

Jim knew in advance that Hildy hadn't dressed like the other dates at the party. In fact, Hildy's outfit could have been called 'frumpy', especially compared to the gowns of the other girls. Their gowns were a lot flimsier and far more suggestive the Hildy's. Not only that, it was May and Hildy's skirt was more suitable for winter. Jim didn't care about any of that. He did care if there might be trouble. He decided to try to keep Ashley as far away as he could. 

Jim was figuring out how he would do that when the dinner bell rang. Dinner was to be served in the dining room which was in the basement of the house. Everyone started filing downstairs. There were round tables set up with table cloths and place settings for three couples. The pledges stood to the side in white waiter's jackets ready to begin serving dinner.

Jim led Hildy to a table where Rich and Chelsea were waiting for them Jim pulled Hildy's chair away from the table and Hildy slid into it. As he pushed her in he noticed Ashley walking into the dining room with her date, Steve Sadowski. 

Steve Sadowski was two years younger than Jim. He studied Engineering like Jim and Rich, but that was about all they had in common with him. He was on the short side, but wiry and had played on the hockey team during his first year. Despite his Slavic name he had olive skin and his hair was neither long nor short. He had a greasy look and his favorite jokes seemed to be tests of perverted ideas that must have been racing through his mind.

"Ashley and Stevie are sure to keep one another busy tonight," Jim thought.

"Oh, I want to sit with Chelsea," Ashley said in a voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. 

She scurried into the seat next to Rich, which was across from Hildy. Steve took the chair along side hers. 

Ashley was carrying a cup full of the Silver Moon punch from upstairs. Jim guessed that it might not be her first one of the evening.

"Ashley and Steve, this is Hildy," Jim said, performing the obligatory honors.

"I noticed," Ashley replied.

She turned to Hildy.

"I like your gown," she said, "or should I call it a skirt?"

"It's a skirt," Hildy answered.

Ashley giggled a bit.

"Why did you take off the poodles? It doesn't seem complete without the poodles." 

Ashley looked at the others at the table, expecting them to laugh at her joke. Chelsea gave out a polite laugh. Steve did, too. Ashley laughed some more to make up for those that didn't understand the joke and weren't laughing."

"They weren't poodles. They were hearts," Hildy said. "I wore this skirt to a Valentines's Day party two years ago."

"You should have left them on," Ashley said. "They would have been cute."

"I don't have money to waste on formal gowns that I plan to wear a single time," Hildy countered. "I thought this would be okay."

"Oh, it is," Ashley replied. "And I like your no-make-up look. It's so...so (ahem)... natural."

"Let's talk about something else," Jim said.

Jim felt Hildy's hand on his leg. He knew she was telling him not to make a scene. 

"Right," Rich said, "it's supposed to be nice at the lake tomorrow and..."

"Well, Jim," Ashley interrupted, "I can see that you understand that beauty isn't everything."

Jim leaned close to Hildy.

"Why don't you go to the Ladies' room and powder your nose?"

"I don't need to powder my nose," Hildy whispered back. "Please, just let it go. It doesn't matter to me."

Hildy had almost convinced Jim. He knew that Ashley was nearly drunk. The glassful of super-punch that she'd carried into the dining room was nearly empty.

"Stevie," Ashley said, "I need another glass of punch."

Steve started to get up to go on his errand.

"I see that you two are drinking beer," Ashley said to Jim. "I understand it's the preferred beverage of the working class."

Jim rose to his feet. He leaned over and put both hands on the table, pressing in as close to Ashley as he could.

"That's enough, Ashley. Knock it off," Jim said.

"Don't tell me to knock it off," Ashley shot back. "You knock it off or I'll let everyone know a few things I know about you."

"Be my guest, Ashley. Tell them anything you want."

Ashley opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it before any words could come out. To Jim, she looked unhappy and a bit ugly. It had never occurred to him to see her that way before. He waited for a second for her to speak, but she didn't.

He knew that Ashley wanted to reveal his problem, but one revelation often leads to more of them and the world's ears feast on unintended disclosures.

"I didn't think you'd have anything to say," Jim said. "Now, like I said, knock it off."

"And what if I don't? What're you going to do about it?"

"If you don't knock it off, Ashley," Jim said in a voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, "I'll go upstairs with little Stevie and put him on the Disabled List. Then, you'll have no one to sleep with tonight and you can walk home all by yourself in what there is of your green dress with your boobs falling out of it."

He straightened up and stared Ashley in the eye to let her know that he meant what he was saying. Steve Sadowski was standing alongside her with a stupid look on his face.

"Hey, man," he said, "don't threaten me. I didn't do anything."

"She's your date Steve," Jim said and pointed his finger at him. "Take care of it."

Jim sat down. He glanced at Hildy and he noticed that her face had turned red. She leaned over close so she could whisper something to him.

"I'm glad that you decided not to make a scene," she said.

Jim took a deep breath. He knew that he'd made a scene and he hoped that he wouldn't have to make good on his promise to injure Steve Sadowski, especially with his wrist being strained, and all. He looked around the room.

"Look, everyone, there's a table over there with only two couples at it. This table is a bit crowded. I think Hildy and I are going to move over there."

Hildy and Jim moved to the table across the room. It was occupied by two of his younger fraternity brothers in their second year of pre-med with their dates. Jim didn't know them very well—they stuck to themselves more than not because of their academic workload.

"It would be a shame to leave school without getting to know these guys better," he thought as he crossed the room with Hildy.

"Hi, guys, this is my date, Hildy," he said. "Do you mind if we join you?"

Jim pushed Hildy's chair in and then seated himself. Hildy leaned close to Jim.

"What did she mean when she said that she knows some things about you?" Hildy asked.

"A long time ago she thought she was going to have sex with me and it didn't turn out. She got mad and she hasn't gotten over it yet."

"How long ago?" 

"It seems like another lifetime," Jim told her.

The premed brothers were looking at each other, and then at their dates and then at Hildy, and then at Jim. Hildy was looking down at the table. 

"Look, Hildy, you asked me. I didn't do it with her because I was thinking about you, in case you're interested."

He knew he was in trouble and wondered why he was, even though he had avoided telling her one of his polite, little, white lies. The ugly little topic might have served to dampen his and Hildy's plans to 'make tonight the night', so he was eager to smooth things over.

"Are all your fraternity parties like this?" Hildy asked.

"No," Jim answered, "this is one of the more exciting ones."

Hildy laughed and shook her head. The pre-med brothers and their dates relaxed and laughed with her.

"Look, Hildy," he said, "Let's enjoy our dinners and get to know these people. Then, we'll go a few times around the dance floor and after that we're out of here."

******************** 

After a few minutes the dinner party settled down and Hildy seemed satisfied with what Jim told her. The pledges did a good job serving dinner and the food, a chicken dish, turned out to be pretty good, if predictable. Jim and Hildy had a pleasant time talking with the pre-med brothers and their dates. He had taken some of the same Chemistry courses for which they were in the midst of finals preparation. 

There were no more incidents with Ashley, although Jim noticed that she polished off another full glass of punch and half of another.

At dinner's end, Jim and Hildy decided to go upstairs. They could hear the band warming up. They were among the last couples to arrive on the dance floor. 

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you at dinner," he told Hildy as they were walking up the stairs.

"It's okay," she said. "I didn't want you to make a scene, but in a way, I'm almost glad that you did. Just promise me you won't do it again on the dance floor."

"It wouldn't be possible. The band will be too loud. No one would be able to hear anything, no matter what is said."

"Just for being bad, I'm going to make you dance two more dances before we go back to your apartment," Hildy said.

"I'm not a very good dancer, Hildy."

"I know," she said, "I danced with you in the Shakespeare room last summer. You're not as bad as all that."

Hildy stood out on the dance floor, being as tall as she was. Jim knew it, but it didn't bother him. The music was loud, as he had warned her. Hildy seemed to be having fun, so Jim was happy to stay on the dance floor with her longer than he planned.  

As he looked at the other couples he could see that some of them had been drinking more after they came upstairs from the dining room. Jim and Hildy had finished off their beers during dinner and hadn't had anything else to drink. They had no interest in the vodka punch and the beer machine was all the way up on the third floor.

Jim had been keeping an eye on Ashley. He noticed that she was drinking a lot of Silver Moons. She was weaving about the dance floor and Jim knew she was drunk. After a while he looked up and found that he had lost track of her. Steve Sadowski was missing, too. 

"At least we know that Ashley won't be driving home in her condition," a thought he kept to himself.

He glanced at his watch. It was ten-thirty. They had been on the dance floor longer than he had realized. At that moment he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Rich.

"Chelsea and I are all partied out," Rich shouted over the thumping bass. "We're going to head over to her apartment. I'll see you tomorrow."

Rich left and Jim turned to Hildy. She was leaning close to him with an expectant expression that Jim liked.

"I think I'm all partied out, too," she said. "Let's dance one more and then we'll go."

It was what Jim was hoping to hear. The band began playing their next number—a slow one. It was a Charlie Rich song:

'Cause people like to talk Lord, don't they love to talk But when they turn out the lights I know she'll be leaving with me 

And when we get behind closed doors Then she lets her hair hang down And she makes me glad that I'm a man Oh, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors

The song ended; it was a good note to end on, considering all that had happened. It was time to go back to the apartment.

"I think that song was our cue," Hildy breathed into Jim's ear,

"Let's go," he said, and took her hand and headed for the door.

He was glad that he hadn't had much to drink. It would better driving and when they got back to the apartment he wanted all his senses in good working order.

They stepped out the back door into the parking lot. His Rustmobile was right where he'd left it and the band's pick up and trailer was right where it had been the last time he'd seen it.

"They're going to have to move this," Jim said.

"I don't think they can move it," Hildy said. "They've got someone behind them, too."

Jim recognized the car. It belonged to Joe Lawrence, one of Jim's good friends.

"That's Joe's car. He'll move it if I ask him to. Then the band can move their rig."

Jim looked into the cab of the truck. There was a fuzzy looking guy sleeping in the passenger's seat. He must have been one of the band's set-up crew.

"Hey, wake up," Jim shouted at him, "you've got to move this truck."

"Can't do it, man," the sleepy helper mumbled. "Haven't got the keys. The guy playin' the drums has got the keys."

"Well go get them from him," Jim said.

"Can't, man. I don't know how to back up the rig—especially in so small a space."

Jim began looking about, hoping he could figure out a way that he could thread the Rustmobile around the band's rig. But the Rustmobile wasn't a threading around kind of car.

"They'll be done with their set in about an hour, man," the sleeper said. "I'll get him to move it then."

"Please don't forget," Jim told him.

It would be better that way. By the time he found Joe and got him to move the car, and then got the band member to come out, it would probably be an hour, anyway.

"I'm going to find the guy who owns that car behind you and tell him to meet us out here when the band breaks," Jim told the helper. "You make sure that the drummer is out here with the keys."

Jim turned to Hildy.

"I'm sure you heard everything. We'll have to wait until the next band break. We can go up to the third floor and have a beer while we wait."

They made their way back inside the house. Jim found Joe on the dance floor and asked him to move his car at the break. Then he and Hildy went up the stairs. When they got to the third floor the hallway was empty. Jim reached into his pocket for a couple of quarters.

"I've only got one quarter left, Hildy. We'll have to share."

"That's okay," she answered. "Is there a Ladies' Room around here?"

Jim popped the top on the beer he'd just bought and then took a look in the third floor head. 

"There's no one in there," he said. "I'll stand guard and make sure that no one goes in."

He could tell that Hildy wasn't crazy about that idea and he also knew she hadn't much choice. She disappeared behind the door. Jim was pretty sure that no one would be using it right away, but he kept watch just the same, while he sipped his beer. 

In a few minutes he heard a flush and then the one of the faucets in the sink running. The restroom door opened and Hildy came out. She hesitated as she passed the room in the corner. The door was half-way open. She stood there looking in. Jim didn't understand what she was looking at.

"You better get over here," Hildy called to him.

She sounded serious and Jim set down the beer bottle and walked to where she was. Hildy pointed to the scene inside the room.

It was Steve Sadowski's room. He was there, along with Ashley and two of the younger fraternity brothers, Dave and Glen. Ashley was lying on the floor. Steve was standing over her, straddling her torso. The other two were sitting on a sofa. All of them were nude. Ashley wasn't moving as she lay on the floor. Steve was masturbating as he stood over her.

"Stay here," Jim said to Hildy.

He marched into the room.

"What's going on in here?" 

Jim detected the smell of recently burned grass. The two boys on the sofa were laughing. Steve didn't say anything and it appeared that he was close to ejaculating.

"Ashley is pulling a train," one of the sofa boys giggled. "Glen and I already gave her a paint job.

"I'm the caboose," Steve struggled to grunt and he worked himself.

Jim gave Steve a push on the chest and he fell backward to the floor.

"Hey..." Steve protested, but Jim ignored him.

"What does Ashley say about this?"

He bent down to her and could tell that she was passed out and incapable of saying anything. There were spatters and globs of semen on her face, chest and belly.

"How much has she had to drink?" Jim demanded.

He didn't get an answer, but Jim knew that she was already drunk when he had seen her on the dance floor. He spotted a pitcher half full of Silver Moons on a chest of drawers with four glasses surrounding it. Ashley's gown lay in a heap in the corner of the room.




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 10



"Ashley, Ashley," Jim called, trying to get her to respond.

Ashley turned her head to the side and vomited about a cupful of Silver Moons mixed with chicken dinner on the floor next to her.

"Get some clothes on and then get out of here!" Jim told the three boys.

Steve had risen to his feet and was staggering about.

"Go screw yourself," he slurred at Jim. "This is my room and she's my date. You've got no right..."

"Neither do you," Jim said. "Now, get some clothes on and get out of here—and I'm not going to tell you again."

The three drunken brothers started shuffling around and struggling with their clothes that had been scattered about the room.

"A pair of pants will be enough," Jim said. "Once you're decent, ask Hildy—that's my date—to come in here."

In a few minutes Hildy was kneeling beside Jim looking at Ashley.

"Let's get her cleaned up," Hildy said.

Jim opened a drawer in a dresser and found someone's towels and washcloths. He tossed a towel to Hildy.

"You can start with this," he said. "I'll get some water on these."

He returned in a minute to find Hildy wiping the semen off Ashley's face. She had vomited again. Jim started collecting Ashley's clothes.

"I hope she'll be alright," Hildy said. "What are we going to do with her?"

"We can drop her off at her apartment. Rich and Chelsea will be there. I'm not sure exactly where it is. I can call them in advance."

"Let's try to get her into her clothes," Hildy sighed.

Ashley's body was limp. It was a struggle, but after some effort they coaxed her into her green gown well enough to take her downstairs.

There was a student directory on one of the desks in the room. Jim found Ashley and Chelsea in the book and dialed their number. There was a recorded message saying that the phone was out of order.

"Rich and Chelsea must have taken the phone off the hook," Jim told Hildy. 

"Well, let's get her out of here," Hildy said.

Ashley was too drunk to walk. Jim lifted and carried her out of the room. It would have been easy except his injured wrist was painful. Steve and his two accomplices were sitting on a sofa waiting for them.

"You guys are fools,' Jim said to them. "If this had gone further, who knows..."

"Screw you," Stevie spat back.

"Fools," Jim repeated and carried Ashley down the stairs.

When they arrived at the first floor the band was on break, but Jim could tell that the party wouldn't be breaking up for a while.

"I don't know who to leave her with," he said to Hildy.

"We'll take her with us," she answered.

In the parking lot Joe Lawrence had just moved his car and the band's rig was backing up. Jim bundled Ashley into the back seat of the Rustmobile. He went over to Joe Lawrence who was looking at him with a puzzled look on his face.

"Ashley got pretty drunk sand passed out," Jim explained.

"I thought she was with Steve Sadowski," Joe said.

"He's out of it, too" Jim said. "We're taking Ashley with us so she can sleep it off and we can keep an eye on her. If anyone cares, let them know that she's with us." 

******************* 

Ten minutes later Jim pulled the Rustmobile into the driveway. Ashley was lying across the back seat. When Jim opened the door she murmured something he couldn't understand and he could see right away that she was still too drunk to make the short walk down the terrace steps. Hildy helped him drag Ashley out of the back seat and Jim carried her into the apartment.

"We'll have to put her in your bed," Hildy said.

Hildy turned down the bedspread and Jim set her down.

"Let's get her out of these clothes."

Jim lifted Ashley up so that Hildy could slide the gown off her. She had collected Ashley's underwear and shoes in a bag at the fraternity house and brought it with them.

"I don't have anything to put on her," Jim said.

"That's okay," Hildy said, "she can sleep naked under the covers."

She pulled the covers over Ashley.

The drunken young woman was motionless under the covers of Jim's bed. Jim bent low a couple of times to convince himself she was breathing. She was, and her breath smelled of booze and vomit at the same time. Jim figured that some sack time sleeping it off could only help things get better.

"Naked in my bed," Jim mused, "I guess she finally got what she wanted."

"Never mind that!" Hildy scolded and Jim felt he was in trouble again.

Hildy drew up a desk chair that was in Jim's room.

"I'm going to keep an eye on her until I'm sure she's okay," Hildy said. "She might throw up again and choke. Someone should be here if she wakes up."

Jim grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater. He made his way to the front room and changed his clothes. Rich's bottle of cognac hadn't been touched since the night that Darlene and Hildy visited for the Colgate game. Jim decided it was time to get it out again. After searching for a few minutes he found the snifters and filled one each for himself and for Hildy.

"I brought you this to work on while you're watching her."

He handed one of the snifters to Hildy who took a sip. She had changed into her jeans while he'd been in the front room, and then retaken her place in the office chair watching Ashley. 

"I haven't had any of this since Darlene and I were here last fall," she said. 

She paused for a few seconds and looked down into the cognac, which must have had the appearance of maple syrup in the darkened bedroom.

"I think that might have been the night that I fell in love with you," she told him. "At least it was when I thought I might."

Jim was standing beside her. He bent low and kissed her on the forehead.

"That bed was meant for us," he said. 

"I know," she said as she grasped her hand. "Something has gotten in our way again. Maybe we're jinxed. But what could we do?"

"I don't believe in jinxes," Jim said. "When things like his happen, something comes of it later on."

They watched Ashley for a while. It was clear that she would be passed out for a good while longer. 

"Maybe we should have left her in the fraternity house," Jim said.

"No, we couldn't do that," Hildy said. "Think of what she looked like on the floor. She would have woken up like that with those three naked guys around her. Who knows what else they would have done. It would have been so humiliating for her."

"I suppose..." Jim started to say.

"I know what that feels like, to be looked at and laughed at and shamed. To be the subject in everyone's joke, for everyone to be talking about you in the worst way. It's worse than humiliating. It makes you feel like you're nothing."

"You're being pretty nice to someone who wasn't very nice to you not very long ago," Jim reminded her,

"There's a time for holding grudges and getting even, and this is not it," Hildy answered.

Jim took a sip of his drink. He looked down at Hildy sitting and watching. Her blonde hair seemed to glow in the darkness, almost like a halo.

"You're a nice person, Hildy," he said.

Hildy didn't answer, but Jim knew that she'd heard him.

"Actually, I take it back," he said. "'Nice' is too weak a word. You're a First-Class person—and at the top of that class, as well. At least that's what you are in my book."

"Your book is the only one that matters to me, Jim," Hildy said, not taking her eyes off of Ashley.

"I love you, Hildy. That's the only thing else I can say."

They watched together another hour and it looked like Ashley was sleeping it off. Hildy was trying to stifle a yawn, but Jim saw it.

"You better get some sleep on the sofa. You've got to drive to your Aunt Mildred's in the morning—and I think it's almost morning now. I'll stay with Ashley."

Hildy got up and went to the front room. Jim was behind her but stopped in a closet and got her a blanket. Hildy collapsed on the sofa and drew the blanket around her. Jim kissed her, then refilled his cognac and returned to the bedroom and sat in the chair that Hildy had been using. He was sure that Hildy was asleep already and he was thinking about her. He had told her that he loved her and he realized how easy the words came out. He had seen a different side of her and in what he'd seen she had earned his respect.

"We didn't get to make love tonight, but this was better."

*************************** 

Jim stayed with Ashley until he finished his last sip of cognac. Her breathing was regular and Jim was quite sure she'd be alright. He went to the front room where Hildy was sound sleep on the sofa, the blanket that he'd given her drawn up around her face. He sat in the easy chair nearby and soon felt himself drifting off to sleep, as well.

The next thing Jim remembered was the smell of coffee and a shaft of light trying to pry his eyelids open. He realized it was morning, and then he felt Hildy's kiss on his forehead.

"Good morning," she whispered in his ear. "I'm making French toast for us."

It was a good morning, as he remembered the events of the prior night. He pulled himself out of the chair and stretched and then made his way into the bathroom. When he came out Hildy was setting the table.

"I didn't realize you don't have any Maple Syrup, but I thought we could use this jam instead."

"Hildy," he said, "this has got to be the most civilized breakfast that's ever been served in this apartment."

They sat down across the table from one another. Jim was taking a sip of coffee.

"I love you, too," Hildy said.

Jim looked up at her. It wasn't what he was expecting her to say.

"I heard you say it last night," Hildy explained. "I didn't answer then. I don't know why. It was something I've been hoping to hear from you for months and there it was. I was thinking about it until I fell asleep."

"I'm sorry," Jim said, "it should have been in a more romantic setting..."

"It was perfect," Hildy said to him. "The sound of it is still in my mind. I'll never forget it. You just said it—it just came out without a hint or coaxing. It was natural. I knew that you meant it."

"I did mean it—I still mean it," Jim assured her. "I meant everything I said."

Hildy looked down at her food, which she hadn't touched. 

"I wish I could stay with you today," she said, "but I have to go to Aunt Mildred's. It would hurt her so if I skipped it. As it is, I'll probably be late. It's just that she's getting old and..." 

"It's okay Hildy," Jim said. "I think things are going to start happening fast. They have to. Graduation is going to make it that way. Then we can make plans."

Hildy nodded that she understood. She reached across the table and clasped his hand with one hand and ate with the other.

"I'll have to get going soon."

"At least stay until I take Ashley back to her apartment. I don't want her to wake up and find only me and then get the wrong idea."

They heard Ashley stirring in the bedroom.

"I'll clean up the dishes. You go in and talk to her," Hildy said.

Hildy got up and began to clear the plates. Jim went into the bedroom. Ashley had turned over on her side.

"Ashley, can you hear me? I know you're awake."

He heard a grunt from under the covers.

"Ashley, I know you don't feel well, but we've got to get moving soon. I'll take you to your apartment as soon as you get ready."

She pulled the covers from her face and squinted at Jim.

"How did I get here?" she demanded. "Where is Stevie?"

Jim recounted the basics of the prior night's events. Ashley said nothing.

"You can use the bathroom if you want. I put a clean bath towel out if you want to take a shower. There's a new toothbrush in its box, too. Your clothes are over there. You can cover yourself with this. It's the best I can offer you."

He tossed one of his sweatshirts onto the foot of the bed. In another situation Ashley might have been a seductress, clad only in a sweatshirt that barely reached below her hips after sleeping naked in Jim's bed—but not that time 

Jim left the bedroom. He went back to the kitchen to see if Hildy needed help with the dishes. After a couple of minutes they heard Ashley heaving in the bathroom.

"It sounds like the patient is ambulatory," Jim said. 

"I'll leave when you take her home. I'm going to collect my things in the bedroom."

Hildy was gone for a few minutes. Jim saw her returning to the living room and at the same time Ashley came out of the bathroom. The two women looked at one another.

"I'm glad you feel better," Hildy said.

Ashley didn't say anything. She turned and went back in the bedroom and closed the door.

"Don't expect any thanks from her," Jim said to Hildy.

"It doesn't matter," she replied. "It wouldn't mean anything, anyway."

"I want someone to take me home now," Ashley said from the hallway leading to the bedroom.

TO BE CONTINUED 

*************************************

Dear Readers,

I know that the scene in this chapter in which Ashley is drunk in the fraternity house has some parallels to the recent rape trial that took place in Steubenville Ohio. In fact, this chapter was written and submitted for editing before that trial came into the news spotlight recently. The scene is an integral part of the chapter and the overall story. I don't think that a plot change is warranted. I did not intend to take advantage of the unfortunate situation in Ohio and I regret any mistaken assumptions to the contrary or if it detracted from anyone's enjoyment of this fictional work.

Thank you for reading my story and I hope that you have enjoyed it so far and you will continue to do so.

AW



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 11



Chapter 11 — The Happy Times

May 1974

It was Friday and it had been almost a week since Hildy returned to Rochester for her Aunt Mildred's birthday.. Jim had just finished his last final exam and returned to his apartment. The days of Rich being his room mate were waning and Jim was thinking that the two of them might make a final tour of the bars that they had frequented throughout their academic careers.

As he fixed himself a sandwich Jim was remembering the prior Sunday taking Ashley back to her apartment as the purple Duster made tracks in the opposite direction. As the Rustmobile meandered through the College Town streets on its way to Ashley's apartment he had expected a 'thank you' or some kind of acknowledgment. He wondered if Ashley might have been angry. Maybe she had been hoping to be gang raped and masturbated upon while in a drunken stupor, in which case she should have told him to butt out. 

As they were waiting at a red light he remembered what Hildy had said to him as they were watching over Ashley the night before:

"I know what that feels like, to be looked at and laughed at and shamed. To be the subject in everyone's joke, for everyone to be talking about you in the worst way. It's worse than humiliating. It makes you feel like you're nothing."

So, as Ashley said nothing Jim decided to say nothing, also. Jim saw Rich's car parked in front of a building and he knew that he had found Ashley's apartment and that Rich and Chelsea were still there. 

He stopped and Ashley opened her door and climbed out. She was clutching the brown, paper grocery store bag with her underwear and shoes. Jim watched her stumble and as she did one of the straps on her gown broke and her boobs fell out of the gown. 

She pulled the fabric up over them and made her way at last to the front door. Jim felt a little guilty as he thought about the argument at dinner the night before and the irony of it all, but he didn't laugh. 

She knocked and in a few minutes Chelsea came to the door in a bathrobe. Ashley followed Chelsea inside and Jim drove away.

As his thoughts drifted back to the present he wondered what Ashley had said to Rich and Chelsea about everything that happened. As Rich later told Jim, Ashley didn't say much. Jim accepted that because he knew that she hadn't remembered very much.

"Maybe, someday it will start coming back to her in bits and pieces. Maybe—but I hope not." 

As Jim was chewing his sandwich and thinking about all these things the phone rang. He thought it might be Rich calling but it was Professor Stark's secretary. 

"Nothing special," she said, "just come as you are as soon as you can."

He asked her the purpose, but she just said that she only knew that the Professor wanted to see him. 

"Maybe it's a last pitch for the Master's Program. At this point I might take him up on it."

He looked at himself in the mirror and decided if the secretary had been able to see him as she spoke she might have omitted the 'as you are' part.

"I'll make myself look like I should have looked when she said 'as you are'."

He went into the bathroom to shave and comb his hair. He found a clean sport shirt on a hanger in his closet and a pair of khakis. He traded his sneakers for a pair of loafers. 

************* 

Jim walked into the ante room of Professor Stark's office where his secretary had her desk. The Professor's office door was closed.

"They're waiting for you inside," she said. "Go right in."

"They?"

He walked past the secretary's desk, declining to ask her who else was in the inner office. He knocked on the door and opened it.

"Come in, Jim," the Professor said as he sat at his meeting table. "Come right in."

Jim looked around. Professor Stark was seated at the head of the table. To his right was an empty chair that Jim assumed was reserved for him. In the two chairs on the Professor's left were the two men whom from Douglas Chemical whom he met in his interview over a month before. 

Jim walked further into to the office and the three men stood up.

"You remember Gerry Tyler and Frank Cutler from Douglas Chemical?" Professor Stark asked.

"Of course," Jim replied. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Tyler—Mr. Cutler. Always good to see you Professor Stark."

He shook hands with the three men. They saw the elastic bandage on his right wrist.

"What do we have here?" Mr. Tyler asked.

"I strained it at a track meet the other day," Jim said.

"Jim is a pole vaulter on the University Track Team," Professor Stark explained.

"I'd forgotten about that," Cutler said.

"Interesting," Mr. Tyler said, "how does a person find time for athletics in addition to designing Bromine Plants and all the other work a Chem E. student has to do?"

"Jim is at the top of this year's class," Professor stark interjected.

"I found that it's not that hard," Jim answered, "especially with track because I can schedule most of my workouts in the early morning. It's just necessary to plan ahead for what needs to be done and budget time for everything."

"Budgeting time," Mr. Tyler said. "It's a good lead-in to what we need to discuss today. So, let's have a seat and get down to business."

Each man took his chair at the conference table. Mr. Cutler took a manila folder out of his briefcase but did not open it. Mr. Tyler led the discussion.

"I think I told you last time that I liked your Bromine Project," he said. "George said that it's the best project of the year. Of course you earned an "A" on it."

"I didn't know that, sir," Jim replied. "I would say that when I turned it in I believed it was my best effort. Of course Professor Stark helped me a lot."

"Don't be so modest, young man," Mr. Tyler said. "I just reviewed it again before you arrived. It's an excellent piece of work by any standard."

When Mr. Tyler called Jim 'young man' it made him remember the incident in MacIver's Bar when Hildy's father had called him 'young fella'. Then, the appellation had served to buttress his resentment. But Mr. Tyler gave him the opposite feeling.

"I guess it depends who is doing the talking," Jim thought. "One man I respect and the other I am unable to respect. Words mean little, but the person behind the words means everything." 

Jim realized he was daydreaming while something important was going on. He snapped back to attention.

"Like I said, a top-quality job by any standard."

The older man paused for a second and then began to speak again.

"We'd like to make you an offer. You would be a fine addition to Douglas. Of course, you would do well, too," he said. "Are you still interested?" 

"I believe so, sir," Jim said. "Of course, it depends on the details. I have a chance to stay at Campbell another year for my Masters and..."

"That's why we think you'll be interested in this offer," Cutler broke in.

"Here it is, Jim," Mr. Tyler said. "It's different than our standard job offer. It's something that we're trying out for the first time. It's the reason we took so long in getting back to you. So let me lay it out for you."

"I'm ready," Jim said.

Mr. Tyler took a deep breath and began.

"Our company is planning a major expansion," Mr. Tyler began "but, not this year. In two or three years we'll need a lot of engineering talent—the best we can get—well on the road to their Masters and PE licenses. You'll be a big part of it, but we want to put you on hold for a year."

"I appreciate it sir, but..." Jim began.

"Listen to the rest, Jim," Professor Stark interjected.

"Of course, at some time in the future we would want you to have a Master's Degree," Mr. Tyler went on. "Our thought is to have you stay here at Campbell next year and do your Master's right away. After that we'll bring you out to Douglas and put you to work. What do you think?" 

"I hadn't expected anything like this," Jim said. "I need to think..."

"There's more," Cutler broke in. "Listen to the rest of it."

"Douglas would be willing to pay your tuition and furnish you an adequate stipend for your living expenses. It wouldn't be at your regular salary, of course. We would ask you to concentrate your major in Plant Design. Do you have an idea of what your design thesis might be?"

"I just turned in my final project," Jim said, "I haven't thought new projects yet."

"We'd like you to do something on an upgrade to the isocyanate production process. We're projecting a major move forward on polyurethane products and we have to improve our isocyanate process to improve our source of that starter compound."

"I think that would be a project with some meat on the bones," Jim said.

"We're contracting with George as a consultant on the overall project. You will be working with him as a Research Assistant in addition to your course work and thesis. You will also be asked to TA a course because Douglas and the College of Engineering are sharing the cost of your tuition."

"Which course?" Jim asked.

"Hasn't been decided yet, for sure," Professor Stark said.

"On top of all that, we want you to take and pass Part A of the PE exam. Also, we're asking that you sign the rights to your Bromine plant design to us," Mr. Tyler said.

"You're going to use my design?"

"Maybe, and it also allows us to classify some of what we're paying you as the purchase price of the sale of your design rights to us, rather than as salary to an employee. You have to remember that this is a new concept of recruiting that we're trying and a lot of people had to review it, so there are a lot of fingerprints on the details."

Mr. Tyler nodded at Cutler who opened the manila folder in front of him.

"Here are the numbers," he said. "If you work for Douglas for five years you won't be asked to repay your tuition. If you leave before then, we would ask for a proportional repayment. It's all explained in the contract I brought."

Mr. Cutler pointed out the applicable clauses. Jim looked at the salary and stipend numbers and they were better than good.

"We'll bring you out to Douglas from mid-June through mid-August for an orientation," Mr. Tyler explained. "Then you'll be back here to start school. What do you say?"

"You'll have an expense account when you're traveling in addition to your regular payment," Cutler added.

Jim looked at the men and then at the contract in front of him.

"I hate to ask for too much," Jim said.

"All we can do is say 'no'," Cutler said.

"The fact is, sir," Jim began, "is that I'm just about out of money. My car would never make it out to Michigan. Any chance of an advance on my stipend?"

Cutler and Tyler looked at one another. 

"Rent a car one-way to get yourself out to Michigan," Cutler said. "The sales force turns in their company cars every three years. We'll arrange to let you buy one of those at a bargain. You can pay it off after you've gone on full salary. We'll send you a company credit card so that you'll have some money to travel on."

Jim looked at the pile of papers staring back at him from the manila folder. In a way, they reminded him of Hildy and his problem and how he had always been sure that the right moment would come along. It was a happy moment for him. At the same time, there was a tinge of sadness because he would be saying 'good-bye' to the quest.

"Is there anything else, Jim?" Mr. Tyler asked.

"I just need to borrow a pen so I can start signing," he answered. 

It took about ten minutes to go through all the various contracts and agreements before everything was official.

"Welcome aboard," Mr. Cutler said as Jim signed the final paper. 

There were two sets of papers and Professor Stark asked his secretary for an envelope for Jim to use to retain one copy.

"Mr. Connolly will be with us for one more year, Irene," the professor told his secretary.

"Very good," the woman said and smiled at Jim and gave him a nod.

Jim felt good. He sensed change. Forty-five minutes before that moment he had been a person of 'someday'. With his signature he'd taken a step forward to being a person of 'now' and an object of others' expectations. 

It was what he'd always wanted and it had come to rest on his shoulders like an eagle returning to its nest. He felt that he should be overwhelmed by it all, but the feeling of trepidation just wasn't there for him to clutch to his chest like a protective blanket.

"I should be shaking like a leaf," he thought. "Maybe it's Hildy's voice calming me down."

"Congratulations," Mr. Tyler said as he rose. 

The other three men rose from their chairs, too. 

"Thank you, sir," Jim said as Mr. Tyler grasped his hand. "I would never have hoped for something like this. You won't be sorry that you offered it to me."

He shook hands all around and took his leave. He made a mental note to visit Professor Stark the next day and thank him.

He left the building and walked to the old Rustmobile that would soon be retired. The old car had seen him through many good and bad days. He knew that he would have to leave the old car behind, just like many other boyhood trappings. 

He knew it was the beginning of happy times. He started the car and started off for his apartment. He would call his parents right away with the news. Hildy wouldn't be home until later. He planned to call her then.

************************ 

Jim decided that since his exams were finished a visit would be better than a phone call to relay his news. He sat at the kitchen table waiting for Rich to return. He was too excited to eat. He popped open a beer and put on a record to listen to while he waited. He got out a pad of paper and started to jot down some figures. 

He decided that the stipend from Douglas Chemical would be enough to allow him to re-rent the apartment for another year, but without a room mate. He decided to finish his beer and then go upstairs to see if the landlord was available. He didn't think that the apartment had been rented yet. It was a great apartment and it would be even better if (no offense to Rich) Hildy could spend a few weekends with him in it.

His beer can was sweating on the table in front of him. He started thinking about all the cans had passed between the refrigerator, him and Rich in the two years that they had lived in the apartment.

"Time for a change," he thought.

He jumped out of his chair and got a large water glass out of the cupboard. He poured in the beer and watched the foamy head rise almost to the top of the glass. 

"That's the first beer I've had in this apartment with a head on it."

It was still beer, the same brand that he always drank with something new. He still had a foot in the old and one in the new. The analogy seemed to make sense to him for a minute, but then he realized that he was reaching for wisdom where there was none.

"I'm too wound up. I need to relax."

He sat back in his chair and listened to the album that was playing. He was playing one of his favorites, Jim Croce's "You Don't Mess Around with Jim". The album was nearly over. It started playing the last song.

Hey tomorrow, where are you going;

Do you have some room for me?

'Cause night is fallin' and dawn is callin',

I'll have a new day if she'll have me. 

It was his favorite song on the album and the last one on Side 2. He sat back and listened to the words and let the beer quench his thirst.

As the song played he thought about Hildy and how it would be different and better when he told her about his prospects this time. He would make sure of that. First he would see his parents and spend some time with them. He decided to reserve Sunday for Hildy and maybe a picnic in that same park would be a good idea if the weather stayed warm. 

"So what do you say to some bar hopping?"

It was Rich. Jim hadn't even heard him come in. 

"That's what I've been waiting for," Jim answered. "Let's get some dinner first."

"I'm ready when you are. We can take my car."

***************** 

The next day was Saturday and Jim wasn't out of the sack as early as usual. He and Rich had visited some of the places they had called home over the past five years and the headache he was coping with was worth it. Jim was grateful that they had managed to do it without making fools of themselves. They spent most of the time reminiscing at the bar near the shotgun factory.

Rich was stirring, too. Jim began getting dressed after he got the coffee started. 

"We'll need an extra scoop of grounds in this pot."

The smell of the percolating coffee was filtering into the bedroom as he finished getting dressed. He stumbled into the bathroom to clean up.

"It's a good thing I stuck to beer."

He was looking around the kitchen for something to eat. He was sure that some breakfast would make him feel better, if he could only summon the courage to close his eyes and swallow it.

"Got the blood transfusion ready?"

It was Rich who had shuffled into the kitchen.

"I'll take mine intravenous," he said. "Get the tubing and hook me up."

"C'mon, Rich," Jim relied, "don't be a wimp. If you want to dance, you've got to pay the fiddler."

"I know, I know. I said that just so you could hear me say it to you one last time."

"I guess that it's true love, then," Jim said. "This doesn't mean that we're engaged, does it?"

"Give me a ring and I'll let you know."

Jim had a bowl of cereal and milk on the table in front of him. It looked like it was staring back.

"Down the hatch!"

He shoveled in a spoonful and decided that he would probably live, after all. 

"Speaking of being engaged, how do you think Hildy will react to your job offer?"

"I'm expecting that she'll react pretty well. She'll like it because I'll be staying here for another year and that will give us time to sort things out. And, by the way, we're not engaged."

"That's what they all say," Rich said and then slurped down some coffee.

"I like it, too. I'll have a decent car and some extra money so I can take her to a few more places than a diner and the movies."

"And you can help each other get rid of your problems," Rich said.

"That, too."

"Do me a favor and send me a postcard when you finally do the deed," Rich said.

"How about a photo of the Japanese battle flag?"

"I was going to mention it," Rich said, "but I thought it might be asking too much."

Jim finished his coffee and cereal and set the dishes in the sink. Rich was still working on his.

"I'm going to take a trip to Rochester and give my parents the news and then I'll take Hildy to lunch on Sunday and tell her. I'll be back on Sunday night."

"That's okay," Rich said. "I'm going to start packing today and take Chelsea out tonight. You can get going if you want to. I'll clean the dishes."

***************************** 

It was nearly three in the afternoon when Jim arrived at his parents' home. He gave Hildy a call and they made a date for a picnic lunch the next day. He waited to tell his parents about his new job until dinner.

"So, you will get your Masters, after all," his mother said after he'd laid out the details for them.

"That's right, Ma. It's better than any offer that I could have hoped for. They told me that it's a new program that Douglas is trying out. So, I really have to come through or they'll wish that's have given it to someone else—or cancel it altogether." 

"It's obvious they recognized all your good qualities," his mother pronounced.

Jim shook his had and laughed a little. 

"I would be willing to bet that Professor Stark setting me up with the Douglas people counted a whole lot more than my good looks," Jim said.

His mother threw up her hands.

"That's one fault you've still got, Jim. You're far too modest."

"No, really Ma..."

But his mother wasn't listening. She'd gotten up from the table to serve dessert.




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 11



"I'll be pretty busy next year," Jim said. "I've already got my thesis assignment—and it's not easy. I have courses on top of that and they want me to be a Teaching Assistant for an undergrad course, as well. I'm also going to be a Research Assistant for Professor Stark and I have to prep for the first part of the Professional Engineer's exam."

"Jim, can you handle all that?" his father asked.

"I'll have to, Dad. It's what Douglas is expecting of me. I think they're trying to see if I've got the stuff to handle it. Anyway, the research with Professor Stark ties in to my thesis, so that will help."

His father let out a breath and shook his head.

"Well, you won't have to worry about the track team. That will save you some time."

"And I'll have some money and a new car, so that will take away a few worries. It won't be easy, but I'll do it."

Jim's mother set a cake on the table and began slicing wedges from it and putting it on little plates.

"It's almost unbelievable," his father said. "You worked hard for five years to get this. You deserve it Jim."

Jim shook his head.

"Not really, Dad. There are a lot of guys that could have deserved it just as much. I was lucky. I had some special people behind me. My whole education was like a gift-wrapped present set on a table in front of me. All I had to do was untie the bow and be careful of what was inside. Now it's up to me to do what I have to."

"Now, Jim," his father said, "you don't..."

"I wouldn't have said it, Dad, if I didn't believe it."

Jim's father looked stunned, which was something that Jim hadn't seen many times.

"I—I just remembered—there's something I have to check on out in the garage," his father said.

Jim's father rose from his chair and made his way to the door that led outdoors.

"It meant a lot to your father to hear you say that," Jim's mother said, "and to me, too, of course. But Jim, don't be afraid to take some credit for yourself. You deserve it. Your father and I and even Professor Stark are just the supporting cast. You're the star of the show at this moment."

"I meant what I said, Ma."

"I know you did, Jim, and I think that makes me even more proud than your big news tonight. But you should think about what I said. There's plenty of credit to go around for all of us, so go ahead and take a helping of it."

"Okay, Ma, I'll remember."

His mother paused for a second and Jim knew she had something else on her mind.

"Are you going to tell Hildy the news tomorrow?" she asked.

"Of course, Ma."

"She'll be so happy, Jim."

"She might not be happy when she finds out how much attention I'll have to pay to my work and how little time I'll have to pay attention to her."

"She'll understand—I know she will. She'll be happy because you will have a whole year to work things out. When will we get to meet her?"

Jim knew that he should have expected to be grilled by his mother on the 'Hildy question', but it took him by surprise.

"Maybe I should go see what Dad's doing,' Jim said.

"I'm right here," his father said, standing in the doorway. "So, when are we going to meet this young lady?"

"Maybe sooner than you think. I was going to tell you later."

He took two tickets out of his wallet and placed them near his father's place at the table.

"Here are your tickets to the track meet next Saturday," Jim said.

"Okay, but what's that got to do..."

"I also bought three tickets for Hildy and her parents," Jim explained. "I wanted Hildy to have the chance to see me compete once before I hang 'em up and I thought it might be a good way to patch things up with her father—sort of two birds with one stone"

"So, we're going to sit with them?" his mother asked.

"Not necessarily, it's open seating in the stadium and I won't have a chance to see anyone before the meet starts. If it's okay, I thought we could have dinner afterward."

Jim's mother and father looked at one another.

"Do you mind?" Jim asked. "We can skip it if you want to. I just didn't know how else to arrange it—and it's not what you're thinking. It's just a way to sort out the logistics because I'll have two sets of guests."

"I guess so,' his father said. "How's your wrist?"

"I think it will be okay. If it's not, I'll just have to scratch from the meet. It would have to be pretty bad for me to do that."

*********************** 

Jim was waiting in the parking lot of the park near her home where they had their rained-out picnic not many weeks before. He was surprised that she was late, the park being only about a mile from her parents' home. 

He turned on the radio and the station was playing a song called "Waterloo" by a new group called ABBA. He was having a hard time understanding the words.

"A group from Sweden singing in English about a battle in Belgium. I don't get it. This group will never go very far."

He turned off the radio and saw Hildy's car just coming into the parking lot in his rear view mirror. She parked her car next to his and hopped out holding a picnic basket and a bag from the grocery store.

"Sorry I'm late. I had to go to the store to buy something to drink. It was hard to find a grocery store open on Sunday."

Jim walked over to her and took the grocery bag from her.

"I'm glad to see you, Hildy."

She blushed and then kissed him. . 

"Let's find a picnic table and sit down," he said.

It was a warm, pleasant Sunday in late May. There were a few families using some of the tables in the park. There was one that was a little bit separated from the rest. Hildy headed for that one and Jim followed her. She spread out a table cloth and took some sandwiches and some other things from her basket. There was a quart of lemonade and a bag of chips in the grocery bag. Hildy arranged it all on the cloth and they sat down at the table. 

"I was surprised when you called me. I made these this morning so we wouldn't have to buy something at a restaurant. That's why I told you to meet me here," Hildy gushed.

"It's all real nice, Hildy," Jim said. 

"There's a hiking trail over there," Hildy said. "I thought that after we eat we could go for a walk."

"A long walk or a short one?" Jim asked.

Hildy's eyes became brighter.

"Maybe a short walk for a long time," she answered back.

"We could skip lunch and just do the walk."

"Not a chance," Hildy answered. "What you see here is my culinary ability at its highest power, so you had better enjoy it."

"Even the lemonade?"

"Well, I picked it out. It could have been the pink kind, but I thought natural was best," Hildy said.

"Hildy, I asked you to see me today because I have something to tell you. I got a job offer from Douglas Chemical and I accepted it."

Hildy stopped eating and set down her sandwich; her jaw dropped open.

"Finally! When did you find out?"

"On Friday afternoon," Jim told her. "They showed up in Professor Stark's office with papers and I signed them. It's a good offer."

"I'm glad for you, Jim," Hildy said. "It's everything you've been working for. When do you start?

"June 10, but I'll have to be out there the week before that. I'll have to take a physical and a few other things. Then..."

"Out where?" Hildy asked.

"Central City, Michigan. That's where Douglas is headquartered. Then I've got to..."

"I see," Hildy said, "we don't have much time..."

"No, Hildy, I haven't finished. This isn't the usual type of job offer. I'm just going to be in Michigan for June, July and half of August. It's a kind of orientation. Then the company wants me to come back to Campbell for a year to do my Masters. I'll be back August 19."

"I've never heard of anything like this," Hildy said. 

"I never had, either. It's beyond anything I ever dared to expect. If I work for them for five years, they won't even ask me to repay my tuition for the Masters Program. While I'm in school they'll pay me a living allowance. They're even going to arrange for me to get a new car. So, you can take a last look at the Rustmobile."

Hildy drank down a few swallows of her of lemonade.

"This is unbelievable. We'll have a whole year to be together."

"That's right, and then..."

"My offer still stands," she said. 

"We discussed that already, Hildy. But I thought that we could use this year to sort things out. And then a year from now if things are the same between us we could..."

"Yes!" Hildy squealed. "We'll do it. They won't be the same. They'll be even better."

Jim finished his sandwich and took a gulp of lemonade.

"Anyway, Hildy, that's the news and that's what I was thinking. I thought you'd like to know."

"Like to know? You must be kidding. I'm ready to burst."

"But listen, next year won't be a cakewalk for us. I'll have an even bigger workload than this year."

"You can do it," Hildy said. "You can do anything you set your mind to do."

"For sure, I'm going to do it," Jim replied, "but there might be times when I don't have the time for you that I'd like to have."

"Just let me know if I get in the way and I'll buzz off," she said "as long as I can buzz right back on again later."

Hildy was laughing and Jim knew it was no use to make her think of sobering thoughts.

"I didn't forget your birthday," Jim said.

"It's not for another month."

"I'll be in Michigan then, and besides this present is time sensitive."

He reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a small envelope and then handed it to her. Hildy tore the envelope open.

"They're tickets to the Conference Championships next Saturday," Jim explained. "I wanted you to have a chance to witness me make a fool of myself in public for the last time."

"No one would ever call you a fool, Jim. It's a nice gift. Why three tickets?"

"I thought you could bring your father and mother. Maybe they would enjoy it. I know it's only a track meet. I thought it would be a way for your father and me to bury the hatchet. Maybe we got off to the wrong start. I'm hoping this might turn things around."

Hildy's eyes were glistening with tears. 

"It's one of the nicest presents I ever got," she said

"It was that or a hat, scarf and glove set—but I got you that already, so the tickets will have to do."

Hildy was smiling as she dried her eyes. Her smile made him wonder if the tickets were more a present for him than for her, but he knew that she liked it.

"There's a catch I have to tell you," Jim said. "My parents are coming down, too, and I have to spend some time with them. I'll have two sets of guests and I don't want to give either the short end. So, I thought we could all have dinner somewhere after the meet."

"I've never met your parents."

"I know it's going to be awkward at first. But it will be fine. I think some good will come of it."

"I'll have to tell my parents about the dinner ahead of time. It wouldn't be fair to surprise them with something like that."

"Of course," Jim said.

"Let's clean up and go on that walk," Hildy said

They packed the gear in the picnic basket and threw the papers in a trash can that was nearby then stowed the basket in Hildy's car. 

Hildy pointed to where the trail started and wove her arm around Jim's. As they walked along he could feel her pressing her body against his. It was a nice feeling and it made him remember that he hadn't thought about his problem in a while.

She pressed against him even closer. They nearly stumbled.

"Hildy," he laughed as he reminded her, "don't forget there are children in this park right now."

********************* 

Jim was back in his apartment. It was about ten in the evening. Rich was with Chelsea—it was her last evening on campus before summer break. He had been thinking about the picnic with Hildy and had been doing some reading and listening to music. All around him were boxes in which Rich had begun to pack up his things. Even the frat lodge was deserted until next fall.

He sat at the kitchen table, got out some paper and started making some sketches, brainstorming a thesis on improving the Isocyanate Production Process. He was writing questions in the margin. He decided that in the morning he would get up early, go to the campus, do his workout and then get some treatment for his wrist. After that, he would go to the Engineering Library and find some information that would give him a better start. 

"Maybe I should understand what I'm improving before I start to improve it."

He started thinking about Hildy again and how happy she'd been when he gave her the tickets.

"I hope I wasn't reaching too far when I got the tickets for her parents." 

He decided that it was something of an overreach but it was done and it was the thought that counted, anyway. Besides, he was riding a winning streak. So, why not go for it?

He was thinking about that, and about getting some early shut-eye when the phone rang.

Hildy:"Jim, it's Hildy."

Jim"Hi, Hildy, I was just thinking about you. What's up?"

Hildy:"It's my father, Jim. He refuses to go to the track meet on Saturday. At first, he said he would go, but then he changed his mind. 

Jim:Is it because he doesn't like Track and Field? I understand that but it's the only..."

Hildy:"No, that's not it. I told him you got the tickets as a kind of peace offering. I knew right away that he didn't like it, but then my mother talked to him and he agreed. Then I think it grated on him and he told me he wouldn't go.

Jim:"Maybe it's because of my parents..."

Hildy:"It never got that far. I never had a chance to tell him. Anyway, I know my mother won't go without him. He told me he doesn't want me to go, either."

Jim:Well, Hildy, it's your choice and..."

Hildy:"But I am going, just the same. I'll drive myself, or maybe I'll take Darlene."

Jim:You can come with my parents. I'll call them tomorrow and they'll pick you up at your parents' house. I'll give them directions. I'll call you at Darlene's tomorrow and give you the details.

Hildy:"I can't ask..."

Jim:"Don't worry. It's on their way, anyway. My mother will enjoy spending the day with you. She'll enjoy that more than the track meet."

**************** 

Campbell belonged to the Mid-Atlantic Athletic Conference, which included such schools as Campbell, Lehigh, Lafayette, Colgate and some others. It so happened that it was Campbell's turn in the rotation to host the conference Track and Field Championships in 1974. Win or lose, Jim knew it was going to be the final track meet of his athletic career.

He had been a standout athlete in high school, but at the higher level he had never quite made it to the high echelons of his sport. He and George Murray, a friend and another athlete on the team, competed throughout the season for the number two and three spots among the Campbell vaulters. Once in a while Jim would pick up a second or third place. Campbell had another vaulter who was favored to win the Conference Championship. 

Jim was standing in the Pole Vault area watching his competitors continuing their warm ups. He did some stretching but was afraid of putting too much pressure on his injured wrist. He still had at least ten minutes before his next turn. George Murray came up to him. 

"Sorry about your third miss, George," Jim said.

"Off day," George replied. 

"You've got next year to make up for it."

"That was a big risk you took, passing the bar to sixteen-ten," George said.

"My wrist won't give me very many attempts," Jim replied. "The next one may be my last."

"That will be at seventeen-two."

"That's equal to my all-time best," Jim said. "I don't dare pass that."

Jim looked at the scoring chart. Most of the vaulters were either out or missing at seventeen-two. Third place was boiling down to Jim and a senior from Lehigh.

"I've got a good chance if I can clear seventeen-two," Jim said to George. "If we both miss, I'll lose because the guy from Lehigh has only one miss at sixteen-six and I have two."

"Campbell number thirty-nine," the judge called out.

"You're up," George said and slapped Jim on the back. "Give 'em hell."

Jim picked up his pole and stepped to the line. He thought of looking up to the stands to see if his parents and Hildy were watching.

"That cost me a miss at sixteen-six," he reminded himself. "I was more worried about what was going on in the stands than my pole position."

So, Jim kept his mind on his job. He picked up his pole and stood at the line. His wrist ached and there was something else that began after his last vault that he hadn't felt before—a sort of tingling feeling extending from the base of the hand to the elbow.

"Just give them a minute to re-arrange the landing cushions," the judge said.

"Just swing that foot up extra-hard after you launch."

He was hoping that the extra lower body action would make up for the arm strength he was losing on account of his injury.

"Ready?" the judge asked.

Jim nodded.

"This could be my last one ever."

The pit judge held up a green flag. Jim gripped his pole and began the approach run. He started slow at first, pole pointed forward at forty-five degrees, then accelerated down the approach, counting his strides.

"One—two—three..."

On the tenth stride he began to lower the pole and by the twentieth stride he had it planted in the box and had launched himself off the ground. He knew it was a good plant. He swung his trail leg up. It all felt like it was supposed to. 

Jim pulled down with his arms to swing his body up and get the maximum bend from the pole. There was a sudden and severe stab of pain in his wrist. It felt like it was tearing.

"Just get me through this one, last vault."

He ignored the pain in his wrist and pulled down harder. The next thing he knew he was floating backwards toward the landing cushions, looking at the bar still resting on the standards. He lay in the pit for a moment looking up at the bar. He had done it—his best vault ever and probably his last.

"I should have passed to seventeen-six. I would have cleared it." 

There was much pain in his wrist but he forced himself not to grasp it with his other hand, wince or cry out. As he returned to the start line George came up to meet him. He took the pole from Jim's good hand.

"Pretty good vault," he said. "You ruined your wrist on that one didn't you?"

"I'm afraid that I did," Jim answered. "I'm trying not to show it."

"I can tell by the way you're carrying your pole," George explained. "Besides, you let out a pretty good yelp on your pull-down."

"I didn't realize that. I was trying not to. Anyway, there's no way I can jump again. But I'm not going to scratch myself until the Lehigh guy clears the height. I don't want him to know that he can get third on his next vault. Let him work for it."

"A lot of things can happen," George agreed.

George was correct. If the Lehigh man cleared the height on his first try, as Jim had, he would take third place because Jim would be unable to go to the next height. Even if he failed at the higher level, the determination would be on the basis of fewest misses and Jim had two and the Lehigh vaulter only one. 

"What do you think are your chances?" George asked.

"Tough to say," Jim said. "I don't know this guy from Lehigh very well. We'll find our soon enough."

The Lehigh vaulter stood at the start line with his hands coated with rosin. He began his approach. He planted his pole in the pit and Jim had his eye on the bar as the vaulter went into the air. It appeared that his foot nicked the bar as he went over. Jim expected the bar to fall, but it did not. The pit judge waited five seconds and then held up the green flag. It was a good vault and Jim had lost.

"We'll go on to seventeen-six," the judge said.

Jim walked over to him.

"Sir, I have to scratch. I injured my wrist on my last vault."




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 11



The judge scanned his scoring chart.

"Are you sure you don't want to try?" he asked.

"I can't even grip the pole," Jim replied.

"I'm sorry," the judge said. "That means that third place, at least, is awarded to Lehigh on the basis of fewer misses."

Jim walked over to the Lehigh vaulter.

"Congratulations," he said. "Good luck at seventeen-six."

The Lehigh vaulter looked confused, at first, but then he must have noticed Jim's right arm hugged to his body and his left hand extended to shake hands.

"Injure yourself on your last try?" he asked.

Jim nodded.

"Sorry," Jim's opponent said. "Good vault on that last one, though."

"I'll help you with your pole," George said, and the two walked off the field together.

As they did Jim looked around the field, knowing it would be his final moments as a competitor. He looked up in the stands and saw Hildy and his parents watching him. He gave them a wave and they waved back. He and George went to where the Equipment Manager was waiting and they helped him stow their poles.

"Tough break," George said. "I think you would have taken it—at least a third and maybe a second if you had cleared seventeen-six. Your last vault would have cleared it if the bar had been at that height."

"It's okay," Jim said. "I know I gave it everything I had. I didn't leave anything behind. I didn't get what I'd hoped, but I'm satisfied."

It occurred to Jim that the track letter that had been his goal at the beginning of the year had eluded him. He accepted it and was surprised that he didn't feel as bad as he thought, despite coming so close.

"You know George," Jim said as the two walked through the stadium portal leading to the locker room, "I just learned that you can't feel bad if you don't leave anything behind."

*************** 

Jim sat with Hildy and his parents at a table in the back of the dining room in Joe's Restaurant. It was an Italian place on the edge of town. There were more elegant places to dine, to be sure, but Jim thought that Joe's was perfect. The food was good and it was a quiet place where they could relax and talk. They had just finished commiserating with Jim about his injury and loss of placing in his event. 

Jim's right wrist was wrapped in an elastic bandage. The team trainer gave him an ice treatment and wrapped it for him, so he had kept the others waiting longer than he thought that he would.

"If the inflammation doesn't start going down in a week or so, you'll have to have x-rays," he had told Jim. "Keep the bandage on for two weeks."

Jim and his father were having the breaded veal and eggplant with the heavy sauce. Jim's mother ordered linguini with white clam sauce. 

"I don't know much about Italian food," Hildy admitted.

"Have the Shrimp Scampi with pasta on the side," Jim's mother said. "That way, you can eat only as much pasta as you want so you won't get too full."

Jim could see that Hildy was happy. He had wanted to spend some time talking with her, but found out right away that his mother was taking up all of Hildy's attention. Hildy was talking and laughing and had that carefree look that Jim never tired of seeing. So, he decided to leave things as they were and let his mother have Hildy all to herself.

"She'll have that carefree look a lot more often after I get back in August," he promised himself.

"So, you're okay with skipping graduation?" he asked his father.

"Yeah, sure," Jim's father said.

"Next year we'll do it all over again and I'll go through the ceremony then," Jim said. 

"I'm going to go freshen up," Hildy said.

She rose and looked around for the Ladies' Room and then headed off in that direction.

"I was thinking the same thing," Jim's mother said and in a second was off in that direction, as well.

When they were gone Jim's father turned to him.

"You're mother really likes Hildy," he told Jim.

"Yes, I kind of noticed," Jim said with a laugh.

"Well, your mother can get carried away, sometimes, but she never pretends about these things."

"What do you think, Dad?"

"It doesn't matter what I think, Jim," his father said. "What you feel is what counts."

"I think that's pretty obvious," Jim replied. "I wouldn't have her in this situation if I didn't..."

"Yes I suppose that's true," his father said. "The truth is that I do like her, Jim. You know, I've been a salesman for over twenty-five years and one thing I can always spot is a phony. That's one thing this girl is not. I don't see any phoniness in her at all."

"Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."

"We met Hildy's father when we picked her up. He's a real piece of work."

"He doesn't like me very much," Jim said.

"I don't think it's you, Jim. Guys like that have something inside eating away at them and they take it out on whoever is closest."

"That would be Hildy," Jim said. "She's taken a lot from him. She's had to screw up her courage to keep taking it and keep seeing me. Her father can't hurt me because I really don't care what he thinks. I'm afraid for Hildy, though."

"Be afraid for yourself, too, because guys like that never stop. You're sure to hear from him again. Don't give Hildy a reason to lose her courage. She's a sweet girl and sees things in a simple way. Her father's antics are sure to confuse her."

"I'll keep that in mind. So far, she's doing pretty good."

"Makes me like her even more," his father said. "So what plans do you two have?"

"We thought that when I come back in August we could start to sort that out," Jim said. "We're hoping things go from there."

"Sounds sensible," his father said. "Your mother and I were afraid..."

"No," Jim said. "Better this way. For one thing, Hildy's never seen me when I just don't have time for anything else but work or study. There'll be plenty of that when I start school again and when she sees it she might not like what she sees."

"Have you talked to her about that?"

"Sure, Dad, but talking is one thing. Being in it is something else."

"I think she'll understand if you give her your best when you're not so busy. Anyway, I think you're handling it the right way. Whichever way you go, it's up to you. Just keep us posted."

Hildy and Jim's mother returned to the table and Jim and his father ended their private talk.

"Guess what?" Jim's mother exclaimed. "Hildy and I made a date to go shopping at the mall next week."

"Oh brother," Jim mumbled to himself."

"Who saved room for dessert?" Jim's father asked. 

Jim was driving back to his apartment, and his parents and Hildy were on their way back to Rochester. 

"These are happy times," he had to admit to himself.

The happy times tasted sweet, like the strawberries that people were gathering in the sunny fields throughout that June. It was a time of rest and enjoyment. But, in Jim's head a voice was whispering—reminding him that respite and sweet flavors were only a pause in expectations.

TO BE CONTINUED 



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 12



Chapter 12 — Take a Stand

June 1974

May had come and gone, and graduation, too. Jim stayed in town through it all. For one thing, he wanted to see Rich's parents one last time and help him load his gear into the trailer they'd rented to haul it all back to New Jersey. Rich was going to have two weeks at home before beginning his new job in Illinois.

Another reason Jim stayed in his apartment was that he was waiting for the Douglas Company credit card to show up in the mail. He couldn't hope to make it to Central City, Michigan without it. The auto rental agency wouldn't even reserve a car for him unless he could guarantee it with a credit card. So, he was anchored to his apartment. The company said that it was on the way, but there was a lost day because of the Memorial Day holiday.

Hildy was impatient to see Jim before he left for Michigan, but he explained the credit card problem to her and she seemed to understand, if in a reluctant way. Jim promised that he would be sure to see her before setting out. 

After Rich left Jim spent his time stowing things away for the summer. The apartment was half-empty because Rich had taken a number of pieces of furniture away in his parents' trailer. Jim still had the sofa, his stereo and the kitchen table, along with his bedroom set. He was going through his closet trying to figure out what clothing to take with him and which to leave behind. He'd asked his landlord to look in from time to time to make sure everything was alright.

On his first night alone he decided that he felt himself getting a bit flabby, at least by his athletic standards. His wrist hadn't allowed for any meaningful workouts. It was still painful—just beginning to heal. Jim kept the bandage on by day, only removing it to shower and sleep. He decided to go to the campus early the next morning. At least he could work his lower half and get in some aerobic work. Then, he wanted to get in some library time to do more prep work on his thesis project.

His University ID didn't work when he tried to use it at the athletic locker rooms. Jim figured it had been deactivated because he wasn't registered for the University's summer session. The bureaucratic roadblock was annoying. By luck, he saw Floyd, the custodian mopping the floor and he rapped on the window.

"I'm not supposed to let you in, Jim," the older back man said. "You aren't a student anymore."

"Sure I am," Jim insisted. "I'm coming back in the fall for Masters work."

The janitor man rubbed his whiskers and shook his head.

"I'd like to, Jim..."

"If anyone makes a beef I'll tell them I tried my ID and it worked and you weren't anywhere around."

"That's what I was waiting to hear," Floyd said and he swung the door open.

Jim slipped in the door and walked over t the locker area. All the padlocks were gone.

"Floyd, would you mind holding onto my wallet and keys while I work out? I'll only be an hour or so. I'm just going to do a mile on the tartan track and a half-dozen sets of stadium steps. Then I'll shower up and be out of your hair."

"No problem, Jim. I'll be here when you're ready. By the way, I'm glad I'll be seein' ya for another year."

"Thanks, Floyd. I'll see if I can get the coach to arrange locker privileges in the team room. Otherwise, I'll have to use the general facility across the street."

After Jim finished his workout he walked over to the Engineering Library. He expected the same ID problem he'd encountered at the Athletic Locker Room. He was hoping that he could try the same tactic on the librarian that he had on Floyd. Jim was free to walk around in the lower library level, but the material he needed was upstairs in the stacks.

"I just can't let you into the stacks without a proper ID," the librarian said as she peered at Jim over the tops of her bifocals.

"You know me," Jim pleaded, "I'm coming back in the fall."

"I believe you," she said. "But if you want to go upstairs you need a valid ID—or a pass from a faculty member."

"A pass from a faculty member?" Jim asked. "Why are we arguing? I'll be back in twenty minutes."

"Tell him to use this form," the librarian said and handed Jim the remnants of a half-used pad of blank passes.

Professor Stark's office was two buildings over. Jim was almost sure that he would not be there, but his secretary would probably be at her desk. If not, he knew all the secretaries in the department, so someone should be able to fill out the needed form.

It was nearly nine in the morning when Jim took the stairs to the third floor and walked down the hall to Professor Stark's office. He was surprised when his secretary wasn't there and it looked like she hadn't arrived to work that day. Jim reasoned that in the couple of weeks between the end of the Spring Semester and the opening of the Summer Session a lot of employees would be on vacation.

The inner door to Professor Stark's office was ajar. Jim ventured past the secretary's desk and knocked, and when he did so the door creaked open a bit more. He saw his professor sitting behind his desk and he looked up at Jim.

"Jim what are you doing here? I was just thinking about you. Come on in."

Jim walked the rest of the way into the office and approached the professor at his desk.

"I won't bother you for more than a second, Professor..." he began.

"Come in and have a cup of coffee," the professor said. "My secretary is on vacation this week so I brought the coffee pot in and plugged it in over there. Fix it however you like it."

Jim poured a cup and sat down in the chair in front of the professor's desk.

"So, what brings you in here today?"

"Well, I was going to do some work in the library on the isocyanate process but I couldn't use the stacks and..."

"Hmm, I was just doing some prep work on polyurethane, in general. You know I have a consulting contract with Douglas in this area."

"Yes sir."

"There's plenty of time for research. You should getting ready for traveling to Michigan, or maybe home with your family."

Jim explained his need to wait for his credit card to arrive in the mail. 

"You know, Douglas is hoping for you come up with something useful on this. They really have big plans for polyurethane. Isocyanate is a basic feedstock. Your part could be an important piece of it."

"I'm just learning what the process is now," Jim explained. "I have a few ideas but..."

"Do you have any objection if I work your thesis into my report?" the professor asked. "I'll give you citation credit, of course."

"I don't see why not," Jim replied. "Douglas is paying for the work, anyway and that's who will end up with it."

"I'm looking forward to working with you next year, Jim. We'll have a lot of fun putting this together. I know you have a big workload, but..."

"I'll get it done, Professor Stark. It might get tight once in a while but I'll handle it."

"I could get you out of the TA assignment, if you like."

"That's okay. I agreed to do it."

"In a way, it will be a good thing to do. You'll learn a lot about communicating when you start explaining Physics to freshman in the TA breakout sections."

"So, it's Physics 101?"

"I'm afraid so. That's where we need the help in the Fall Semester."

"Anyway," Jim said as he finished his coffee, "the librarian won't let me into the stacks without a pass from a faculty member."

He produced the pad and the professor signed the top sheet and handed it back to Jim. 

"Stay in touch, Jim, while you're out in Michigan. I'll be talking with Gerry Tyler from time to time."

"Will do, Professor," Jim said and he rose from his chair to leave.

"And take some time off before you have to go out there," the Professor called after him.

***************** 

On Friday the mail arrived at Jim's apartment in the late afternoon and the credit card from Douglas Chemical was delivered at last. He was ready to head out to spend the weekend in Rochester before leaving for Michigan on that Sunday. Spending some time with Hildy was a definite agenda item. 

It was four in the afternoon, so Hildy would be at work. He decided to start out right away so he called his mother to let her know that he'd be just in time for dinner at six. His bags were already packed and he let his landlord know that he was leaving. He dropped his bags in the back of the Rustmobile and he was on his way.

It was the last road trip for the good old Rustmobile. It had taken him to many places in the two years that he'd owned the car. 

"Now I know how a cowboy must feel when he has to put down his favorite horse." 

He thought about Hildy and how she must feel neglected with his prolonged delay in returning. She kept saying how she understood about the credit card. At the same time, Jim had to admit that she was getting the short end of the stick, yet again, no matter the fault.

"I'll try to make it up to her before I leave on Sunday."

Jim couldn't understand how she kept smiling after all the neglect he had shown her, but that was Hildy and he had promised that he would make it all worth her while.

The weather was hot and sunny, typical for a June day. The drive was uneventful as he was approaching the Village of Phelps, which lay on his path on Route 96. In the distance he saw a flagman stopping traffic. The traffic line was pretty long. It didn't look like cars were moving.

"There goes dinner."

A man wearing a hard hat was walking by. Jim called to him.

"What's the problem up there?" he yelled over to the workman.

"Big brine spill at the sauerkraut factory; took the bridge out temporarily; we'll have it fixed in about thirty minutes."

Jim looked at his gas gauge. It was on "E". He had intended to fill up when he passed through Phelps, just a half-mile ahead. The Rustmobile had always been a gas hog. It began to sputter.

"Just hold on, girl," Jim pleaded in vain. He was about to turn off the ignition to save fuel when the motor died.

"Out of gas!" he yelled.

He put the car in neutral and started pushing it to the side of the road. A man from the car behind him got out to help him. The Rustmobile was secure on the shoulder of the road. 

"Thanks a lot," Jim said to the man who had just helped him. 

"You can get in our car," the man offered. "We've got air conditioning."

"Thanks just the same. I'll walk to a gas station up ahead near the bridge. By the time I get back traffic should be moving again."

*************** 

Jim was right. Once he returned with the gallon can of gasoline traffic was moving again. He drove to the gas station to fill up and to return the borrowed can. The rest of the drive to his parents' house was clear sailing, but Jim had lost an hour. He figured to skip dinner and call Hildy. He'd explain to his parents. He was sure they would understand and he could fill them in on everything the next morning.

He walked in the front door of his parents' house at seven-fifteen. 

"Traffic problem in Phelps," he said. "Got delayed for over an hour."

"Hildy's been trying to reach you," her mother said. "You better call her right away."

Jim smiled as he realized how his mother was looking after Hildy's interests.

"Women sure stick up for each other after they've been shopping together."

"I'm not sure what she's got on her mind," Jim said. "I was about to call her, anyway."

"She says it's important," his mother said.

"Well, I know she's not pregnant."

Jim dialed the number at Hildy's parents' house. To his surprise Hildy answered.

Hildy:"We've got to talk—tonight—can you come out here right now?"

Jim:"Sure, Hildy. I was going to..."

Hildy:"I'll meet you in the parking lot of the park near my house."

Jim:"I'm on my way."

But she had hung up.

"What's the matter?" Jim's mother asked.

"I don't have a clue," Jim answered.

"Want to borrow the Catalina?" his father asked.

"That's okay, Dad. I just filled up."

He was on his way out the door.

************************************ 

Jim pulled his car into the parking lot about twenty minutes later. It was about eight in the evening. There were a couple of cars in the lot which he didn't recognize and Jim recalled how Hildy had told him that young couples used the convenient lot for all kinds of things in the warm weather.

It was warm. Even though the calendar said it was still spring, June was always the hottest month of the year in Western New York and the humidity percentage matched the temperature, making it seem even warmer than it was. Jim's forehead was moist, but he wasn't noticing it much, wondering what was on Hildy's mind.

Hildy's purple Duster was on the other side of the lot all by itself. She had sounded troubled over the phone. Jim was certain that she was upset because of his neglect of her while he waited for the credit card in the mail. He couldn't blame her. He reckoned that he should have come up for a few days and let his landlord collect the mail. 

"It's sure easy to figure these things out in hindsight." 

He told himself that he would have to get better at these things, now that he and Hildy were a couple. He also had to admit to himself that the prospect of a big new project had excited him and as much as he wanted to be with Hildy, he was also keen on getting a start on investigating the isocyanate process.

Hildy must have seen Jim pull into the lot because she stepped out of her car and was waiting for him as he pulled up alongside her. When he stopped and turned off the motor she got into the passenger seat next to him. He expected her to lean over and kiss him, but she did not.

"I've got a lot of smoothing over to do," Jim told himself.

"Hildy, I'm sorry. There was a big delay on Route 96. I ran out of gas and..."

"That's okay," she mumbled.

He wished that she would have railed at him for being late. Why couldn't she just do that? He would beg forgiveness and all would be as it was before. 

"Did you have dinner yet? We could go to the diner and get something to eat."

"No, I haven't eaten, but I'm not hungry."

She was looking out the passenger's side window, not at him.

"Hildy, something's troubling you. You better tell me what it is."

She turned and looked at Jim. Her eyes were glistening and her lips trembling. 

"When you go to Michigan on Sunday, you better forget about me. Start over—find someone else. That's what I'll be doing."

"What!" he exclaimed, "Not a chance, Hildy."

"It's for the best," she stammered.

Tears began rolling down her cheeks.

"Hildy, I know I should have come up here sooner. I kept thinking I would get what I needed in the mail and then I would..."

"It's not that. It's not about you. It's me."

"No, Hildy," he pleaded. "What's this all about?"

"Find someone who can give you everything you deserve. I can't. Just forget me. You'll be better off. You've got to believe me."

Hildy began crying in earnest and Jim leaned back against the driver's side door. He didn't know what she meant, so he tried a guess because he had to try something.

"Is it because you've never been to college? It doesn't matter..."

Hildy was still crying and was holding her face in her hands but she was shaking her head.

Jim was determined to try again. He thought it might be because she was tall, or a bit plain, but those things seemed so trivial. He tried the last thing he could think of.

"Your father is behind this, somehow, isn't he?"

Hildy picked her head up. Her whole face was drenched, with tears or sweat—Jim could not tell. She reached over and grabbed him by the shirt collar with both hands. He eyes were propped open as wide as they could be and Jim couldn't tell if he saw rage or fear. 

"I've lied to you all along. I deceived you. I'm damaged. You think I'm someone that I'm not," she cried at him.

She released his shirt collar and shrank back from him.

"Hildy, what can this be? I can't believe anything could be this bad."

"Just believe me," she said.

She was done crying, at least for the moment.

"Hildy, I won't believe it. Why should I? Don't you think that I know something of you? I won't believe it unless you can convince me."

She snapped her head around and looked at him.

"Well, I'm not a virgin, for one thing."

She paused, but kept her eyes on him as though the revelation would be enough. It wasn't, of course and Jim kept silent and waited for the rest.

"When I was fifteen—a sophomore in high school—there was an exchange student from France at our school that year. His name was Henri Bouchard. He was seventeen. I didn't like him that much, but he was very handsome. I was so excited that he was paying attention to me because not many boys were."

"I think I know the rest, Hildy, but that means nothing..."

Hildy didn't seem to hear what he said.

"We had sex that year before September was done and we were a couple for the whole year—or so I thought. He told me I was his first and only one. It seemed so romantic. Then, in June he was gone, like I knew he would be. We promised to write, but he never did. But he left me with something I'll never forget."

"You were pregnant?" 

"No, that would have been better. It was gonorrhea. I know he gave it to me because I hadn't been with anyone else. By the time I had the nerve to tell the school nurse the next school year I was really infected. I got penicillin treatments and I was cured in the end, but it ruined me. I'll never be able to have children. It's permanent."

"I see," Jim said.

"The news got around school, the village, all over. Everyone was whispering behind my back and making jokes about me. I don't know why they thought that I didn't know it—or maybe they didn't care. It hurt my parents so much; I think it changed them. Ever since then they've kept a tight rein on me, even after high school. Henri was the only boyfriend I'd ever had until you."

"My father was hurt the most," she went on. "He had to explain it at MacIver's—I don't even know what he told them. He said that he forgave me, but I don't think he ever did, at least not one hundred percent."

"So he figures you owe him—that you have to give your whole life up to him as the price of forgiveness," Jim said. "It helps me understand what you said the night when we were taking care of Ashley after the party."

"I don't know about any of that, Hildy answered. "It's just the way things are."

"You know that he'll never admit that you've repaid him in full," Jim said.

Hildy sat still for a moment and Jim could see that she was thinking, but then she took a breath and continued on.

"My father said that any real man wants a woman who can give him children. So, you see, it has to be this way. All this time I knew it would mean the end of us, but I kept thinking maybe it wouldn't be."

She stopped talking and started crying again and she was shivering, even though the weather was hot.

"We were so close to having it," she wailed as she buried her face in her hands once again, "so close and I loved you so much."

Jim decided to let her cry for a few minutes. He thought it would be better to let her get it out of her system. He took a deep breath. He had never handled anything like what was upon him. But there it was and it was up to him. After several minutes he spoke.

"Hildy, stop crying," he said. "I want you to hear what I have to say."

She didn't stop crying when he first told her, but she finally did, and gazed at him, with a look that reminded Jim of a dog that expected to be punished.

"Hildy, I won't say that what you just told means nothing—because it does. But every couple has things to overcome. We just have an early start, that's all," he said.

"You want it all—the whole package, don't you?" she asked as though she felt it her duty to convince him.

She leaned in close. 




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 12



"You can't start out knowing you've got just half of what you expected. I always thought you had high expectations. What will your parents say? They'll be shocked and they would never forgive me."

Jim shook his head.

"There comes a time when a man has to decide things like this alone and then tell his parents about it later. And don't judge my parents until you've given them a chance. They are a lot different from yours."

"You already said that it means something to you," she countered.

"I suppose I did say that,. But, there are other things that mean even more—and that includes especially you. I've already told you that I love you. I didn't mean that I would only love you as long as you are perfect."

Hildy was gasping for breath.

"And don't expect me to be perfect, either!" he added for effect. "You already know some of my imperfections—and I have a lot more."

"But this is a lot different, Hildy argued. "It will never change."

"I'm not buying a car, Hildy. People don't come with warranties. When you join up with another person it's strictly belief and faith."

"Oh, if it only didn't happen back then," Hildy murmured. "I was so naïve and..."

"But it did happen, and we've still got to live or lives," Jim countered. "And it's also your business. You had no obligation to disclose any of it.—to me or anyone."

Hildy looked away and Jim knew that she was thinking things over. 

"But you would have found out when we would be trying to start a family," she said after she faced him again.

"You could have made up some other story when it became a problem. 'The doctor said this' or 'the doctor said that'. How would I have ever known the difference? I would have believed you. Why wouldn't I?"

"But don't you want a family someday?"

"When that day comes we'll adopt our children," he told her. "They'll be lucky to have you for a mother." 

"It's only fair that you know."

"You see, Hildy, that's what I know of you. You would never lie to me. You have more courage than me, or anyone else I know. That's one reason why I love you like I do."

"I lied to you once," she answered, "the night after the football game when I told you I was having my period. It wasn't true. I told you that to see how you would react. It was then that I started hoping that someday..."

"That 'someday is going to be 'today' soon enough, Hildy, if you'll just change your mind."

"You still want me?" she asked.

"Of course," he answered. "Dry your eyes and we'll go get something to eat."

"I don't know what to say," she said. "I just hope..."

Jim slid over to her side of the seat and put his arms around her. He kissed her forehead and she hugged him to her. After a few minutes Jim broke away from her.

"Are you ready for some dinner? I've got a company credit card, you know."

"There's just one thing," she said.

"I'm listening."

"My father told me that if I didn't break up with you tonight he would tell you my story, himself."

"Tell him you already told me and..."

"And then he said that if you are as stupid as he thinks, he would call your father and tell him. Then we'd be sure to break up."

Jim shook his head and tried to find the right words to say.

"After your mother and I went shopping together last week he really went off the deep end. He wants to bring that apprentice from the machine shop around again."

"Hildy, your father is blackmailing you. I'm not going to stand for it. We're going over there right now and I'm going to straighten him out."

Jim started the car and put it into gear.

"Maybe we should just let it go," Hildy said as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"No!" he replied and he could feel his pulse start to race and the veins in his neck start to swell.

In a minute or two they were approaching her parents' house.

"Oh, my God, he's here!" Hildy cried.

"Who's here?"

"Randy—that's the apprentice's name. That has to be his car in the driveway. I don't know who else's it could be."

"Good! We'll have everyone together and we'll have it out."

"Maybe you better go," Hildy said. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere with him."

"I think I better stay."

Jim marched in the back door with Hildy tagging behind him. There was no one in the kitchen so they moved to the front room. Hildy's father was standing in the middle of the room waiting for them. Her mother was sitting in a chair off to the side. There was a man about Jim's age standing next to Hildy's father. He was about six- three—taller than Hildy and was heavier-built than Jim wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. He had shaggy hair and wore a three days' scruff.

"Mr. Wertz, I..." Jim began to say.

"What are you doing here?" her father said to Jim. "I thought Hildy was taking care of everything."

"She told me everything," Jim said, "and we have taken care of it."

"I knew you'd be too stupid to get it," her father spat back at him.

"I understand you have a message for my father," Jim said. "Don't bother, I'll tell him myself."

Hildy's father paused. He looked at his daughter and then at the young man standing beside him.

"Randy's here to spend some time with Hildy. You're out of the picture, young fella."

"I don't think so."

"You don't think so?" Old Herb taunted. "Well, I know so. I tried to give you a chance to walk away at MacIver's. You were a stupid young fella' then and you haven't smartened up a single bit."

"I don't care what you think of me. You're not going to do this to Hildy any more. I won't stand for it."

"Get out of my house," her father said, "or I'll have Randy, here, throw you out."

"Hildy," Jim said, "go upstairs and pack some clothes. Then call Darlene and see if you can stay with her. You're not going to live like this any longer. It's over."

"Don't be ridiculous," Wertz said. "Get out of my house."

"Darlene's on vacation," Hildy said. "I can't call her."

"You see?" her father said. "Now, leave."

"You can stay with my parents until you can get set up somewhere else. You are not staying here," Jim said to Hildy.

"Please, Jim," Hildy cried, "just let it go for now. Someone's going to get hurt. I can call you in the morning."

"I'm not letting anything go," Jim answered. "and I'm not leaving without you. Hurry up and get packed."

There was silence in the room and everyone froze in place.

"Hildy, I meant what I said," Jim said at last. "Hurry up and pack."

Hildy ran upstairs. 

"I told you to get out of my house," her father screamed. 

"When Hildy's ready I'll leave—but not until she's ready to go with me,' Jim said

Jim felt himself becoming angrier, but reminded himself to stay under control. 

"She's not going anywhere," her father yelled back. "I know what's best for her."

It was too much for Jim and he let go.

"Best for her or best for you?" he yelled back. "You don't know and I don't know and Randy sure doesn't know, either. Only Hildy knows what's best and she wants to go with me."

Jim was out of breath and knew he had lost control.

"Look, I lost my temper and I'm sorry," he said as he reduced the volume in his voice. "But Hildy's going with me."

Hildy's father turned to the large, young man standing beside him.

"Randy, throw this idiot out of here."

Randy took a step forward; but hesitated.

"Just throw him out," Hildy's father insisted. "He's nothin'"

"Maybe—maybe not," Jim said. "Are you ready to give it a try, Randy?"

"Look young fella," Hildy's father said to Jim, "do yourself a favor. Look at him. Look at you. He's twice your size. You've got a cast on your arm. You're nothin'. He'll rip you apart. Now get out of here."

"It's an elastic bandage, and I'm not leaving without Hildy."

"Randy," her father said, "let him have it and don't hold back—so this will be the end of him."

"I'm ready when you are," Jim said to Randy. "But, don't forget, I've got a stake in this, and you don't. So, if you're ready, come on."

Randy took a step forward with his fist raised, but then stepped back.

"C'mon, Randy," Hildy's father bellowed, "do you want to get laid or not? Just throw him out and she's all yours. She'll hop in the sack with anyone. Believe me, I know. Just look at him, a college boy who thinks he's got everyone fooled. Now get him out of here and then take what's been promised you."

"It's up to you, Randy," Jim said. 

"I don't know this guy," the young man named 'Randy' said.

Hildy came down the stairs carrying two suitcases.

"I'll call the cops," her father yelled as Jim and Hildy headed for the door. "Be my guest," Jim called over his shoulder as he opened the door.

"Give it up, Herbert. They're gone," Jim heard Hildy's mother say as they walked out of the house.

**************** 

Jim drove Hildy to the parking lot where she'd left her car.

"Follow me to my parents' house." 

He gave her directions in case they got separated. He looked at her and she had no expression, like a boxer who had just taken a right cross to the face.

"Don't worry, Hildy. Everything will be okay. You've trusted me this far."

"Okay," she said. "I never expected..."

"Sometimes we don't know what to expect. Don't worry, everything will be okay." 

Jim pulled out of the parking lot. Hildy was right behind him. 

They pulled into Jim's parents' driveway, one after the other at about nine-forty-five. There were lights on in the living room, so Jim knew they hadn't gone to bed yet. Jim got out of the car and went to Hildy, who was still in her car.

"Let me go in and explain things; then I'll come out and bring you in."

As he was about to go in Jim's parents came out of the house.

"Hildy's father called and he wants her to come home right away," Jim's father said.

"Dad, Hildy can't go back there—at least for a while. There was a big blow up a little while ago. Hildy's got nowhere else to go. I was hoping..."

"Of course she can," Jim's mother said. 

Hildy was standing next to his mother and his mother had her arm around her shoulder. 

"It must have been serious," Jim's father said.

"Right now it is," Jim said. "Maybe we can patch things up some other time. If she could just..."

"We'll get the spare room ready," his mother said and started leading Hildy into the house, each carrying one of her overnight bags.

Jim and his father stayed behind in the front yard.

"I know that you're going to explain all this," his father said.

"Dad, you told me, yourself, that you could see that Hildy's father is a 'piece of work'."

"Maybe so," his father admitted. "I still want to know the details."

"It was ugly, Dad. That, I will tell you. Trust me on this for tonight and I'll fill you in tomorrow."

Jim's father slapped him on the back and they turned to go inside..

"I'll do that, Jim. I think you rate it. I always expected a lot from you someday. I guess 'someday comes when a man least expects it."

***************** 

Jim was up early the next morning, but Hildy was up already. She was helping his mother get breakfast ready. Jim smelled the coffee that had just been brewed and poured himself a cup.

"Hildy can stay with us as long as she wants to," his mother said. "We already talked about it."

"I'll call Darlene when she gets back from vacation," Hildy said. "I don't want to impose." 

"I would just relax and see what happens," Jim said. "There'll be a spare bedroom open soon. I'm still planning to leave tomorrow so that I'm ready in Michigan on Monday morning. I have a physical exam scheduled for Monday afternoon." 

"You can go," his mother said. "There's nothing for you to do here." 

"It looks like Dad is about to be outnumbered."

His mother turned and faced him with her hands on her hips.

"Maybe your father will be happy to have two charming females to wait on him," she said.

"Maybe," Jim conceded with a laugh, "but I doubt it."

"Besides, your brother will be returning soon," his mother reminded him. "This just makes it even."

"Okay, Ma, I surrender," Jim laughed. "I know when I'm licked."

"Well, I refuse to allow Hildy to go back to her father's house in those conditions," his mother pronounced.

Jim knew his mother's tone of voice. It was the one she used when she had made up her mind and no one was going to change it. He knew that Hildy would be living there more than just a few days.

"Hildy told me about the big fight between you and that Randy person," his mother went on.

"It wasn't a fight, Ma; maybe just a war of words."

"Well, Hildy told me it was almost a fight."

"Don't contradict your mother, son, even if you're right, because when she gets like this you know she's not listening."

It was Jim's father who had come downstairs unnoticed.

By that time breakfast was ready and Jim had forgotten that he'd skipped dinner the night before. The French toast went down fast. Hildy and Jim's mother started cleaning up the dishes. Jim and his father were finishing their coffees at the table.

"Do you plan to pick up your rental car at the agency today?" his father asked.

"I've got that covered, Dad," Jim said. "I thought that Hildy could give me a lift in her car."

"Why don't you let me take you?" his father said. "Hildy can stay with your mother so they can plan how they're going to be charming and wait on me after you've gone to Michigan."

"I heard that," his mother piped up, but Jim's father ignored it. 

"We can talk over a few things while on the way there," his father said.

Jim knew that by 'a few things' his father meant 'what the hell happened last night'.

"That sounds fine," Jim said. "By the way, do you suppose your could dispose of the Rustmobile while I'm gone? I think just having it towed for scrap would be best. It isn't worth the price of a Want Ad to try to sell it."

The dishes were done and so was Jim's coffee.

"Hildy, why don't we take a walk and work off some of this breakfast?"

They were walking down the road in the suburban tract in a few seconds. There was no one around to hear them. It was like they were in a private room.

"A lot has happened in the past twelve hours," Jim said. 

"I know," Hildy said. "Your parents have been very kind to me—a lot different than how my parents treated you."

"Don't worry about it. They like you and are happy to have you stay as long as you want. My mother has a new shopping buddy."

Hildy laughed and grasped Jim's hand as they ambled down the road.

"What did you tell my mother about a fight? There wasn't any fight."

"I was sure there was going to be," Hildy said. "I know my father. That's what he was trying to set up."

"If there had been I would probably be in the hospital now."

"Maybe—maybe not," Hildy said. "I wouldn't count you out. You were very brave for me."

Jim shrugged.

"Hildy, you've got to start thinking about making a better life for yourself," he told her. "To have someone willing to defend you is something you should expect..."

"But no one ever has," she said.

They were quiet for a bit as they walked on.

"Did you tell your parents about what I told you in the park last night?" she asked.

"No, do you want me to?"

"No, I will," she said. "I'll explain it to your mother. I'll do it while you're with your father at the car rental agency."

"She will understand," Jim said, "and she won't make it hard for you."

As they walked they made a bit of small talk. Jim pointed out a few houses where his friends had lived when he was younger. But, he had more on his mind. 

"Were you angry that I didn't come up to Rochester sooner than I did?"

"Not angry," she said, "but I was hoping to have more time together.

"I have to be honest, Hildy. It was true that I was waiting for the company credit card. But there was something else. I was excited by this new project. I was glad, in a way, to have the time at school to get a head start on it. I realized it when I got stuck in that traffic jam in Phelps last night."

"I thought it might be something like that," she answered.

"Now that you know that, does it make you angry?" he asked. "There might be more times like that. Will you get fed up and decide you can't take it anymore?"

Hildy stopped walking. She turned and looked at Jim.

"I know what you're asking. The answer is 'no'. I'm not angry. I can't be angry at you for being who you are. I just want you to let me know where I stand and not forget me."

"Forgetting you would not be possible, Hildy. And it wouldn't always be like I said—just from time to time. You could live with that?"

Hildy started to tear up and Jim wondered if they should continue their talk at another time. But he rejected that idea. They were in too deep to stop.

"I once told you that I would live with you in a cardboard box, Jim. I didn't mean it just that way. I understand what you're all about. I could never call it quits with you, especially after last night."

"But would you be happy?" Jim asked.

"I just answered you," she replied. "You're just asking the same question in different ways and I'm giving you the same answer."

Jim had to chuckle to himself. 

"You're a lot smarter than your father gives you credit," Jims said.

"Depends on the subject," Hildy replied.

They walked along a bit further and then Jim stopped in his tracks and Hildy stopped with him. He turned and faced her. 

"Hildy, I guess I have to come out with it. I spent the whole night thinking about this instead of sleeping."

"Yes?" she said, and gasped in a breath.

"I was going to wait until Christmas to ask you," Jim said, "but after everything that happened last night it seems like it would better this way. I'm hoping you'll say 'yes'," he said.

"I'm listening," she said, and Jim could see she was trembling and her grasp on his hand became stronger.

"I'd like for us to get married when I get back from Michigan in August," he said. "What do you say?"

She let out her breath and her eyes were sparkling in the way he liked. He knew her answer before she said it.

"My answer is 'yes'," she said as she wiped a tear off of her cheek.

She hugged him hard and they nearly lost their balance, standing in the middle of the quiet road. She kissed him, and Jim let her kiss him long and slow. The neighbors would just have to see what they were going to see.

They broke the kiss at last, but Hildy was still holding onto him.

"Of course it's 'yes'. It could never be anything but 'yes—and you'll never be sorry".

TO BE CONTINUED



Harvest of Expectations Ch. 13



Chapter 13 — Commencement

August 1974

It was four in the Saturday afternoon of August 24. Jim was in the driver's seat and Hildy was next to him in the passenger's bucket seat of the '71 Mercury Cougar that Douglas Chemical had sold to him. They were in the parking lot of the Erie Canal Inn as about a dozen people surrounded the car, wishing them well. 

After a few moments, the small crowd stepped aside. Jim put the car in gear and it was official that he and Hildy were on their honeymoon.

"You can't get on the Thruway with that stuff tied to the back of the car," Hildy said.

"I know," Jim answered. "Darlene and Tom think I didn't see them tie it on just before we came out. I'll let them think it for a few seconds longer."

He drove to the exit of the parking lot and put on his turn signal. He glanced in the rear view mirror and could see that the small crowd was still watching them. Jim put the car in Park and then got out of the car and made his way to the back of it.

"Now I can win my Oscar," he said to himself.

Jim threw up his hands in an 'o-my-gosh' pose and then untied the "Just Married" sign, streamers and cans that Darlene and his brother had put there. He set the material on the grass alongside the parking lot. In a half minute he was back in the car and he and Hildy were on the road. The small crowd watched and cheered them as he got back into the car.

They were on their way to the Interstate. Their plan was to stop in a motel in Utica where they'd made reservations—about three hours to the east. 

"I'm so happy, I could burst!" Hildy exclaimed and threw her arms in the air as they reached the State Highway.

The next morning they would turn north for four days at an isolated cottage on Long Lake in the Adirondacks. After that, they would be moving to Jim's apartment near the campus and Jim would be preparing for his Masters work.

"It was a nice wedding," Jim said, "even if it was a small one."

It was a small wedding by any standard. After Hildy and Jim announced their engagement to his parents that Saturday in June they drove out to Hildy's parents' house to tell them and try to patch things up. Old Herbert threw them out and Hildy's mother started to cry. It was sad, but Jim and Hildy tried to make the best of it and hoped something would work out when the time was right.

"I'm glad that your father decided to come to the wedding after all," Jim said.

"I guess I am, too, after everything. I wasn't convinced at first."

"We've got to leave an opening to mend fences sometime in the future," Jim said. "It's not right for families to be divided."

Old Herbert appeared at the last moment in the chapel just before the ceremony with Hildy's mother and Aunt Mildred in tow. It had been unknown until that moment whether he was going to attend or not. He copped a dour attitude, but it was good that he had shown up. No one thought that he would until Jim's brother showed him and the two ladies to their seats.

"It was lucky that we had extra chairs ready to set in the front for them," Hildy said. 

With Hildy's family assumed to be out of the picture, Jim and his parents decided on a small ceremony with an intimate dinner at the Erie Canal Inn afterward. Hildy wore a light blue, sleeveless dress and Jim wore his navy suit. It seemed a bit silly to go for the big wedding gown and tuxes with such a small wedding party.

Jim invited Rich to be his best man, but his old roommate couldn't get away from his new job in Illinois. Jim's younger brother, Tom, had just turned eighteen and filled in. Darlene stood up for Hildy. 

There was an aunt and uncle of Jim's from Buffalo whom Jim couldn't leave out. To Jim's surprise, Professor Stark attended with his wife. It was an unexpected honor and Jim was flattered. Add in Jim's parents, and that was the whole wedding.

There were, of course, the priest who married them and an associate priest, whom Jim had known during his school years, who asked if he could assist.

"Are you disappointed you couldn't get married in your own church?" Jim asked.

"No," she answered. "This was nice."

After Jim and Hildy finished their visit that Saturday in June Herb was on the phone to the Lutheran minister at Hildy's church. Later, when Hildy approached the minister, he refused her, according to Old Herbert's wishes. 

It had hurt Hildy when it happened. She told Jim, and he consoled her by saying that it was her final break between past and future.

"Let's just find a JP who will do it for ten dollars," Hildy had said.

"No, it will be in a church," Jim insisted, and so it was. 

Jim's parish priest hadn't helped, either. Jim approached his pastor for help. Then the elderly priest called Hildy's minister and found that Old Herbert refused his consent to the marriage.

"Get yourself straight with the bride's father and then come back and see me," he told Jim. 

In the end, two priests from the Jesuit high school Jim had attended were glad to perform the ceremony. They were married in the tiny school chapel. It was Fr. Baldwin who officiated and Fr. Hoffman, who had been Jim's math teacher for two of his four years, assisted.

"My pastor wasn't very happy when he found out the Jesuits were willing to do it," Jim said. "The Jesuits and our regular church guys are always at each others' throats."

"You can't please everyone," Hildy rejoined.

"I should have said my ex-pastor," Jim corrected himself.

They stopped at the toll booth to the Thruway and Jim took the ticket and stuck it in the visor.

"Do you wish that it had been a big wedding?" Jim asked

"I gave up that idea when I had my troubles with Henri in high school," Hildy said. "What about you?"

"Well," Jim said, "if there had been more guests we could have raked in a lot of wedding gifts. Think of all the blenders and carving sets we'd have in the back seat right now."

"Wise guy," Hildy said. "I was hoping that I could have a piece of wedding cake shoved in my face. When you have the frosting in your nostrils it really makes you appreciate it. You don't know how girls dream about that."

Jim looked over and could see that she was covering up a laugh while she waited for him to catch up with her joke.

"Honestly, I think my parents would have liked something more traditional, but they understood the situation. For my part, anytime I can avoid wearing a tux it has to be considered a good day."

Hildy was looking at the new rings on her finger. They were shiny gold. Jim had only saved enough money for a very modest diamond two weeks before the ceremony. He had almost been too embarrassed to give it to her.

"Someday I'll buy you a decent diamond in a nice setting," Jim said.

"No!" Hildy gasped. "I would never part with this ring."

"But Hildy," Jim pleaded, "it was the cheapest stone they had in the store. Someday..."

"It doesn't matter, Jim. This will be a reminder of how we started out. I don't ever want to forget these days, and I'll never let this ring out of my sight."

It was a coin with two sides and Jim could see the heads and tails of it. It was Hildy's ring, after all, so she could keep it if that's what she wanted to do.

"It was nice of your father to put on the wedding dinner," Hildy said.

"It was," Jim agreed. "I'm glad that we stipulated 'no gifts' to the attendees."

"Well, your parents' gift was the reception," Hildy reminded him.

"My father slipped me a check to cover the honeymoon, too," Jim said. "I was going to tell you later."

As they drove along they were quiet for a while. Jim was reflecting, not just on the day, but everything over the past year that had led to the moment that he was living in at that time and place.

"How much longer do we have to drive before we get there?" Hildy asked

"We just started out twenty minutes ago, Hildy. We've got over two hours left."

"Let's see," Hildy said, "It's about four-thirty now. We'll get there at seven. Ten minutes to check in and..."

"What are you talking about, Hildy?"

"Just doing some calculating," she said.

"Calculating for what?"

Hildy took a deep breath. Jim looked over and she was sitting up straight and her face was bright red.

"I've tried to be reserved about this," she said, "and I haven't mentioned it at all..."

"Mentioned what?"

She hesitated for a moment.

"We're married now, Hildy. You shouldn't hesitate to tell me what's on your mind."

"Well," she began, "wedding days are nice enough. But after every wedding day comes a wedding night, and you know..."

Jim bit his lip in order to keep from laughing at her.

"Stop laughing at me," she said. "It's all I've been able to think about since we said the 'I do's'. That was over three hours ago and I can hardly bear the wait any longer!"

She reached across the center console between her and Jim's seat and ran her hand up Jim's thigh.

"Hildy! I'm driving. If I run the car off the road you'll be waiting more than another two hours."

She was laughing and Jim could tell she was happy. When Hildy tossed aside her worries she could be a lot of fun. He had to admit, he was feeling a few urges, himself.

"Would you like me to pull into the next rest area and get the deed done?" he asked.

"If you didn't have these bucket seats I might take you up on that," she said. "Where's the Rustmobile when you need it?"

It had been a sunny day but it was beginning to cloud over.

"I hope that's not rain moving in," Jim said. "We're due for some. It would be a shame to rain on our honeymoon. We've only got four days."

"I hope it does rain," Hildy said. "I hope it rains the whole time—real hard. Then we'll be stuck inside with nothing to do—if you know what I mean" 

Jim was laughing at her again. 

"How much champagne did you have to drink?" he asked her.

"Just a couple," she said. "I don't want you to think I'm crude. It's just that..."

"It's okay, Hildy. I just drank a half-glass, since I'm driving and all. Besides, I don't want anything dulling my senses after we've checked into our room."

"That's more like it," she purred.

"You see, Hildy," he said, "'I've got the same thing on my mind, but I guess that I don't express it as well as you do."

"How much longer now?" she asked, and burst out laughing.

Jim had something else on his mind. He knew he had to bring it up and time was wasting. 

"Hildy, there's something else we need to discuss," he said. "You may be surprised to find this out, but I have to tell you..."

"What?" she asked

"I don't know how to say this. It's kind of—you know... Well the fact is I've..."

"Never had sex before?" she said. "I've known that from the start."

"From the start?"

Jim didn't want to believe it.

"Did Rich tell you?"

Hildy was laughing so hard she was almost unable to stop and answer him.

"No one told me," she assured him at last. "I could just tell. There were too many hints."

"Hints?" Jim asked. 

"Like our first night in the Rustmobile—you were so clumsy—and you didn't have a condom ready. I was pretty sure then. And as time went on a lot of other things just made me more and more sure it was true."

Jim shook his head.

"Why didn't you say something, Hildy?"

She hadn't stopped laughing.

"I know guys want everyone to think they have a lot of experience. I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

"I should have admitted it at the start, I suppose."

"You're hilarious," Hildy said. "Besides, what are you worried about? In a little while it will all be in the past. And, I'll get to break you in—I can't wait. So, don't complain."

"I used to call it my problem."

His revelation set her laughing anew.

She ran her hand up his thigh again. Jim waited for her to stop laughing.

"You're going to be gentle with me, aren't you?" he asked.

That made her laugh even harder. Tears were streaming down her cheeks."

"Not a chance!" she exclaimed. "I'm going to turn you inside out—but you'll thank me in a few days after you recover."

She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. Jim wondered what other zingers she had for him, but he decided that it hadn't hurt very much. She was stroking his thigh up and down.

"Maybe you should drive a little faster," she said.

"I don't have to, Hildy. That's the hotel right up there," he told her as he stopped at a red light.

"So, are you ready?" she asked.

"When we get to the room do you want me to rip your clothes off and throw you onto the bed?"

"Hardly," she said and then lowered her voice. "I have something nice to put on for you."

********************** 

Jim checked in at the motel desk while Hildy waited in the car. He came back out and drove to the wing where their room was—at least according to Jim's understanding of the directions the desk clerk gave him. When he thought he was there he parked the car.

"Our room is on the second floor. Do we need all of these?" he asked Hildy as he looked at the trunk full of suitcases. 

"Just those two," Hildy said. 

He had a duffel bag of his own to bring, so he handed one of Hildy's pieces of luggage to her and took the other two and slammed the trunk closed.

"We're in room two-sixty-eight," he announced.

They walked together through the parking lot. Jim glanced to the side and noticed that Hildy was a lot taller than him because of the heels she was wearing. They hadn't changed clothes from those they wore at the wedding ceremony. It reminded him of the first time he had noticed her at the company softball game and the hot pants she had worn that night.

"If it hadn't been for those hot pants, and those legs coming out of them—who knows?" he mused to himself as they walked. 

In a minute they were standing at the door to their room. 

"Here it is," he said, "Two-sixty-eight. Do you want me to carry you across the threshold?"

"If you want to skip it I won't tell anyone," Hildy said.

Jim unlocked the door and they stepped into the room.

"Why don't you take a quick shower and shave and I'll unpack a few things while you do," Hildy said.

*************** 

Jim had put on a pair of cotton pajama bottoms before he came out of the bathroom. Hildy was standing at the sink outside the bathroom door. When Jim tried to squeeze past her Hildy stroked her hand up Jim's bare chest and dug her fingers into his pectoral muscle. 

"Nice," she said as he stood still and enjoyed what she was doing to him. 

Hildy released him and grabbed one of her suitcases. She went into the bathroom.

"I'll be out in a while," she said and then closed the door.

"A while?"

He wondered what had happened to the blushing bride that had nearly ripped his pants off in the car during the drive over. When Hildy had explored his chest muscles his brain had sent a message that it was time to get started. The delay agitated him.

He had packed a bottle of champagne in his duffle bag. He thought it would be nice for later. There was always an ice bucket in these motel rooms. He found it and put on a tee-shirt and picked up the room key. He slipped out the door on a quest for the ice machine as he heard the shower start to run in the bathroom.

In a little while Jim returned with the ice. It occurred to him to hang the 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign on the outside door handle and as the door closed behind him the lock in the handle click shut.. He slid the door chain into its slot for good measure. Then, he ran some cold water into the ice bucket and plunked in the champagne bottle. The double bed was made, so he stripped off the bedspread and turned down the blankets and sheet. He sat down and propped up a pillow as a cushion between him and the headboard. And then, he waited.

The shower turned off at the time he returned with the ice, and Jim deemed that a promising sign. It was closing in on eight-thirty and even though Hildy had pulled back the heavy drapes from the window, the light from outdoors was waning. Jim closed the heavy drapes. There was a small light over the sink outside the bathroom. Jim let it stay on and it gave just enough light to see.

He threw off the tee shirt that he had put on when he went out in search of ice, but kept the cotton pajama bottoms on. He stayed on the bed waiting for Hildy to appear. A ventilation fan inside the bathroom was running and that was all he could hear. 

It was difficult for Jim to remain seated on the bed. He thought about knocking on the bathroom door to make sure that Hildy was okay and maybe speed her up a touch, but he stopped himself from doing that.

The remote for the television was on the nightstand next to him. He thought about turning on the TV to pass the time. That would have been a mistake, he concluded—to be seen idling away watching a baseball game while he should have been on pins and needles counting the minutes. So, he rejected that idea. 

"I wonder if you can get piped-in music with this thing," he asked himself.

He doubted it, but thought he might try because he was nervous and his hands were insisting on finding something to do. 

He decided to occupy himself in resolving the piped-in music question. He was fingering the remote, trying to decide which button to push when he heard the bathroom door latch click open and Hildy stepped out and took a few steps toward the bed where Jim was still sitting. 

"I came out as soon as I could," she gushed.

She was wearing a satin negligee, which was long as it draped from her shoulders to just above the floor. The light blue color suited her. She had on some kind of slippers with small white cotton-like balls on the toes, which were peeking out from under the hem of the nightgown. 

"I was thinking of coming in after you," Jim said, but he wasn't really concentrating on what he was saying. Instead he let his eyes travel the length of her body, wrapped in satin, as she stood several feet from the foot of the bed.

Her fair skin dominated his view; her shoulders and collarbone seemed to glow even against the light blue satin. They were defined and, though not appearing delicate, were of a slender woman's form. 

"How do you like it? It's for you," she said in almost a whisper as she ruffled the loose fabric at the sides of the gown. 

"I like you in it," Jim answered. 

He hadn't yet risen from the bed, his physical excitement having come upon him and made him shy to stand up. His eyes kept tracing her outline. He saw that the gown tied in back of her neck, halter-style. Her breasts pushed out a just a bit against the shiny satin, as did her slender hips somewhat lower. 

There was a slit cut from the bottom hem to her hip on the side of one leg. The pale flesh of her thigh looked back at him as the fabric swayed with the rhythm of Hildy's breath.

"What?" she asked.

Jim's eyes had become fixed on the slippers with the cotton balls on the toes.

"Hildy, you're too natural a woman to have little, white puffy things on your toes."

She looked straight at him, not bothering to glance at her feet.

"You're right," she said, and flicked one foot and then the other and the slippers flew off against the closet door where she'd hid their suitcases.

"Come to me," she said.

He knew that it was time, that there was no reason to hide his arousal that was tenting his pajamas. He stood and stepped to where she waited for him.

There was a subtle scent as he came close to her. It wasn't strong enough to be perfume, or even cologne. Jim realized it had to be scented bath powder. He breathed it in, unwilling to overlook even the smallest detail of the experience.

As they came together he leaned close and kissed her and she kissed him back. He reached out his bare arms and embraced her and she held him the same.

The skin of her bare back was smooth and soft on the outside, and firm underneath. He touched it from her shoulders, past her shoulder blades and down her spine to the small of her back. It gave him pleasure to feel every bone, muscle and curve that he found. He felt her fingers pressing into the muscles in his back. They broke the kiss, but stayed longer in the embrace. The feeling of her bare skin held him in place.




Harvest of Expectations Ch. 13



He pulled the string at the back of her neck that released the bow that held up her halter top. 

"I want to see you," he said.

He stepped back, holding the strings of the untied bow, lowering his hands which pulled down the bodice of the gown in a slow descent. As the covering dropped away Hildy held her forearms up to cover her naked chest. Jim stepped back to look at her.

She didn't allow her eyes to leave his, hesitated for a few seconds and then placed one hand at her side and then the other. Jim expected the whole gown to cascade to the floor, but it didn't, impaled on her hips, like a Venus.

"Hildy, you are beautiful," he gasped when at long last he viewed her. 

He had never seen her bare body in all the months they had been together. He had even ceased speculation over what she would look like without clothes. It had become his to behold and hold.

Her breasts were not large; their size was of no consequence. They were round, with just a hint of a pear shape as they graced her chest. The skin was even whiter than her shoulders. The nipples, in contrast, were dark and Jim could tell they were hard as granite just by looking at them. They reminded him of chocolate drops that he wanted to taste.

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Hildy, any man would think that you're beautiful."

She listened to him, her eyes half-closed. The lids were fluttering. Even in the half-light, Jim could see them. She stood motionless, except that her lips parted to speak.

"I don't care about the others," she said, her voice just above whisper, "only you."

"You are beautiful, Hildy, and that's the truth," he said. 

He meant what he said and Jim reckoned that if no one else had ever appreciated her beauty, of which he had become witness, then he would behold her alone as he would a perfect gem. He stood still, letting his eyes take in her beauty and wondered how long he should wait until the next step and what that would be.

"Touch me," she said.

He desired to touch her. It would be the first time he would ever do so. It would be a moment he wished to remember, and was determined to do it just right.

"Touch me now," she repeated when he didn't move.

He moved closer and placed his hands on her, beginning at her belly where the negligee had settled just below her navel. The muscles there flinched at his first contact. His hands traveled upward in a slow ascent. She kept her eyes closed and Jim felt her breath become fast and irregular. 

Her skin was soft, as he knew it would be and the powder with which she had dusted herself added to the smoothness. As his hand edged closer to her breasts the pace of her breath increased even more.

Perhaps too soon, he was cupping her breasts from the undersides. When he did, she exhaled and cried out—not saying a word, but in a primal sound, which he could only guess might be satisfaction or pleasure, or maybe anticipation.

He let his fingers touch the nipples, which were hard, just as they had shown themselves. She cried out again the same way, which spurred Jim to hold them as if they were his own. After a minute he lessened his hold on her breasts, thinking that he would take her into his arms. 

"More," he heard her whisper.

He spread his hands around the breasts again and looked into her face. Her eyelids remained shut and her mouth had opened a bit more. Her breath was rapid as before, perhaps even more than it had been.

"More," she whispered again

Somehow, he knew what she meant. He lowered his head and took one of the chocolate drops into his mouth and she issued that muffled guttural cry yet again. He let the nipple lay in his mouth for a few seconds, almost wondering if it might melt. It tasted of her; Jim thought it tasted sweet. He let his lips close over the bud and put a gentle suction on it. He heard her gasp and felt her hands at the back of his head pressing him closer to her.

He did the same with the other nipple. After a time he felt a need to feel her breasts pressing against the bare skin of his chest. He lifted his head up and drew her into his arms once again. She wrapped her arms under his and around his back and they kissed.

As they did, she pushed out her tongue and stroked it around his lips. It was warm and soft, like a rosebud just drenched by a gentle rain on a summer night. He parted his lips more, hoping that she would come into him and she did.

"I love you, Jim," she whispered into his ear after a minute. "Take me to bed and make love to me."

He lifted her, cradling her in his arms, negligee still clinging around her hips, and set her down on the bed on which he had been seated a while ago. She shifted to the center of it while he pulled off the blankets and top sheet and set them on the floor beside the bed.

He stood at the side of the bed looking at her, bared to her navel and the blue gown draped over her lower body. He grasped the tops of his pajama bottoms and pushed them to the floor, then stood straight up, naked and aroused, in front of her. She let out a tiny squeal that she made no effort to hide and her eyes were sparkling in that way that he liked.

After he'd given her a chance to see him he bent down and took the negligee in his hands. She raised her hips so that he could pull it all the way off. The negligee had performed its job and he set it aside.

As Hildy lay on her back she bent her knees up and opened her thighs and he knew that she wanted him to lie on top of her. He climbed onto the bed, settling on his knees at first with the insides of her legs just brushing his flanks. He bent low and pressed his face to her body where her blonde pubic hair met her skin. 

As he did, he detected her musky scent that overcame the perfume in the bath powder that she'd used. It inflamed him even more and he felt a few small droplets come out of him. He breathed in deep to put the scent of her inside him. Before long her hands were on his shoulders tugging at him to come to her.

She pulled him into a tight embrace; he felt her legs lock around his waist. Hildy pressed herself up against him. Her breasts with their hard, chocolate nipples pressed against his chest. He tried to raise himself on his elbows to relieve her of some of his weight, but she appeared to want no part of that, hugging him to her tighter than before. She was pressing herself against him harder, harder, as though she was trying to weld the two of them together. Her gasping was faster every second which, with their faces so close together, he could hear to the exclusion of all else. 

Jim hoped that she would let him know when she was ready. He could feel himself bumping against her over and over as she thrust up at him. He pressed back. The wetness that had come from her coated them both and served to heighten the pervasive scent that was filling his nostrils. 

He found certain spots to press against that seemed to drive her even harder. She seemed to be following a path that she had marked for herself. He decided to kiss her and as he did he felt her hand grasp him. She shifted her weight and moved him sideways just a bit. He was inside her.

"At last!" she gasped. 

He found himself gliding into her. A warm, wet velvet glove seized him, pulling him in further, further. He thrust against her as hard as he could. It seemed to pleasure her as she pressed back yet again as they attained a see-saw rhythm.

"Deeper!" she gasped.

But, he knew that he was as deep as he could go. At least he knew it to be true in one sense, but wondered if he would ever find the end of her depth.

They kept up their rhythm a while longer, accepting pleasure as it came to them. All at once Hildy stopped moving. She sucked in a breath and held it. She shuddered for several seconds and then cried out, in an intensity which might have been heard outside the room had their mouths not been locked together. After that he felt her body relax. He was still inside her and she was recovering her breath.

"You haven't come yet," she said. "Don't hold back. I want to feel you release inside me."

The muscles inside her gripped him and he pressed in again. He did it long and slow at first and then she held him harder inside her and he had to expend more effort to move within her, which he did. And, as he expended more effort she clenched him with more intensity with her inner grip. In not too long a time he felt his moment approaching. 

It was just a greater intensity of the pleasure, at first. After several more strokes he knew that he was only seconds away. She must have felt it, too.

"Stop stroking and just let it flow," she said, just in time

He pushed into her as deep as he could go and then he surged a half-dozen times.

"Ahh!" he heard her voice coo as her lips brushed against his ear.

***************** 

He lingered inside her for a time; uncertain how long it was. He softened and although he wanted to stay inside her, he couldn't. He rolled off and to her side. She lay alongside him with her head nestled on his shoulder. 

"I love you, Hildy," he said and stroked her bare shoulder.

He could feel her soft breast lying on his chest.

"I have to use the bathroom for a minute," she said after a time.

She rose from the bed and he watched her walk naked across the room, disappearing into the bathroom. He was impressed, just as he was when he'd seen the front of her when he drew down the bodice of her negligee. While he waited for her he cemented the sight into his memory and realized how fast the four days of their honeymoon would pass. 

He hoped the champagne had chilled in the time since he had put it in the ice. He doubted it, but he decided to open it, anyway.

There were two plastic drinking cups next to the sink outside the bathroom door. He pried the cork out of the champagne bottle and poured a cup for each of them. He took a sip and was correct that it hadn't chilled very much, but it was only five-dollar champagne. He propped the pillows against the headboard and waited for her to return.

He began thinking about the first time they went out together, just over a year before that when she watched him play baseball. 

"I didn't think she was pretty," he said out loud before he could stop himself. 

He hoped that he hadn't said it so loud that she would hear. It was possible that she knew it, anyway, or maybe he didn't want to hurt her feelings. Perhaps, he was ashamed that he had once thought it, or that it was true and it once had been important to him.

"Times change," was all he said.

His mind shifted to all the times Hildy laughed when she was hurting or did what she had to do to make him feel better whenever he needed her to do it. She gave kindness to those who sought to hurt her and risked everything for the sake of honesty. 

While he was thinking about all that Hildy emerged from the bathroom She was smiling as she approached. She hadn't bothered to cover herself with a robe, or anything else. She sat down next to him on the bed. He handed her a cup filled with champagne.

"Here's to us," he said and took a swallow.

"To us," she repeated and drank down a gulp.

"The champagne didn't chill," he said. "Maybe we should have taken more time."

"No, I think it was just about the right amount of time."

She drank down what was remaining in her cup.

"Do you think that we'll always be as happy as we are right now?" she asked him.

"Hildy, I suppose that's up to us."

"Yes, I suppose it is," she said.

She raked her fingers from his shoulders down his chest and lower until they had passed over all of him and then rested her hand on the inside of his thigh. The pads of her fingers were soft and the nails following right behind served to ignite a flame in the endings of his nerves just beneath the surface of his skin. 

"When you recover," she told him, "I'm going to try it on top."

It was fine with him. He didn't answer because the warmth of her hand on his groin felt good and it was absorbing him.

"So, how did you like your first time?" she asked him.

"I would have to say a lot better than good," he answered.

"Yes," she said, "I would have to agree with you."

She stroked down his body with her fingers like she had just done and it felt even better the second time that she did it. 

"It was a first time for me, too," she said.

"But Hildy..."

"It was the first time that I ever made love to a man," she said before he could ask the question.

It was a good answer and Jim took a lot of pleasure in it. She stroked her magic fingers down his body a third time and it felt good again and she let her hands cup him just above his groin. Jim felt his blood flowing again. He took a look at her before they locked together once more.

She was giving him the eye. All his problems were solved. And, he knew well how beautiful she was, so it didn't matter that once he thought that she wasn't pretty.

THE END 

*********************************

Dear Readers,

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I did in bringing it to you.

Your comments are always welcome.

Good reading and best regards,

AW