J-M-J!

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Neil Sadaka

J-M-J!

Jesus. Mary. And Joseph!” Hugh snarled. “We tried goddamn hard to warn him.”

He was talking to no one in particular. He was loud. It was noisy.  Nobody paid any attention. Nobody turned to ask what he was so pissed about. Hugh knew, though. He was so goddam angry that it was probably a blessing that he stood momentarily alone.

Justin was his best friend. They had a relatively short but very tight relationship. Both lived in a small town about 20 miles from their high school, and the daily commute on the rusty old school bus had served to strengthen their bond over time. The bus is another story for another time. Suffice it to say that the daily 45-minute ride with about 25 or so other students from their area had its ups and downs, but the kids did get to know one another.

Justin was not originally from Hugh’s hometown. The town was small, but it was the center of Hugh’s known world. Everybody knew everybody. Hugh had grown up and gone to school with the same kids from kindergarten through 8th grade. Back in the day, they had been a class of 49 crammed into one classroom. That’s right. 49. The kids didn’t know it back then, and there was no real classification system, but the 49 included some of the smartest and brightest, as well as some of the slowest, most needy kids around. Everybody spoke English, but many were bilingual, although that was never mentioned in school. They were tight knit; many of their families had “come over on the boat” together at some point or other in the past.

Hugh had never been to Justin’s hometown. Justin grew up in the suburbs of a large city across the state and had moved to the little town when he was about to start high school. The one thing the little town had was an excellent hospital, and Justin’s father was a renowned doctor. Moving from the big city to all-but-rural America would have been a challenge at any age but moving at the start of high school was especially hard.

Justin’s family had chosen the closest – and the only – private high school for their two high school-aged children, Justin and his older sister who was going into her junior year. Hugh had wanted to go to that school for years, even though it meant that he would not see most of his old friends on a daily basis anymore. There was one other kid from his elementary school, but that was about it. Everyone else was new. In that respect, Hugh and Justin would be similar.

So, as they started high school, they would have a new school, new friends, and a long bus ride in common.

Under the best of circumstances, starting high school can be rough. Elementary schools tend to be smaller. Kids tend to have known each other for years. Often one teacher has a group for the whole year – maybe 2 or 3. Pecking orders are established. Neighborhoods are used to categorize kids – and families. Coming into high school as new freshmen, everything is turned upside down. High schools are big. Kids from different elementary schools are thrown together in classes full of strangers. If lucky, there might be an old friend in a same class. Classes change with the bell. Teachers change with the class. Pecking orders start from scratch. And sometimes, elementary schools, themselves, are used to categorize kids.

Justin and Hugh experienced all of that. Hugh had one advantage. Although he came from his small town 20 miles away, there were a few upper classmen across the grades from his town, too. And one or two had become football and basketball stars. Knowing them was an advantage. Justin had a couple things going for him, as well. Remember his older sister? Well, she was a knockout! An instant hit among the older guys in school. Justin also did not have any elementary school baggage, and he did have a cute ‘accent.’ His big-city background showed every time he opened his mouth. The fact that he was a really good-looking guy also helped.

There were disadvantages, as well. The boys were too young to drive, and the school was far away. The girls in their small town – any girls they might want to get to know, at least – were taken. Quickly committed to other guys whom they saw daily. As their teenage hormones flowed through their developing bodies, the boys were left to fend for themselves. There were girls who rode the school bus, but the one or two they might want to ask out were also taken.

School dances were hard to get to, so they developed some work-arounds. One was asking one of the parents to drive a carload of kids to the school. It got them to the dances, but it meant that they had to be ready to leave when the parents had either finished dinner or finished shopping. Other times, the freshman boys who wanted to go to the dances would team up with older schoolmates. A couple of freshman would pay for the gas, and a couple of upperclassmen – usually juniors –  would drive them to the dances. Once or twice, the school bus driver drove couples dressed in their finest to some of the fancier functions on the clunky old bus.

In the end, dating was precarious.

As time went on, though, both boys not only survived but thrived. Their friendship helped. They had each other to commiserate with. And Justin had his older sister and her older friends to turn to when things were rough. And finally, they drew on their parents’ willingness to help out with travel – sometimes.

They went to parties; they went to dances. Because Hugh had friends in their hometown, Justin also made friends there. There were a couple “couples” around, but not having steadies was the norm. Guys and girls hung out together, but actual dating was not required.

By junior year, they had drivers’ licenses. Hugh got his first, before the start of the year. Some of the other guys from the school bus did, as well. It wasn’t too late into the year that Justin got his, too. That helped a lot with the dating situation. Now, they were mobile, a bit freer to go out with girls, and felt a lot more grown up to boot.

They also had jobs. One of the side bennies of their long bus ride came on the form of an all-but-guaranteed weekend job. A couple of the older guys on the bus were cousins whose dads owned a restaurant. Actually, a very nice, upscale restaurant. As the brother-owners’ kids grew up, they were all expected to work in one capacity or another at the restaurant. There were more jobs than kids, so friends of theirs had been conscripted into service as well. Mainly as busboys. And since it was a high-end place, the busboys did pretty well – especially for kids in high school. Jobs meant money.

Justin never had any trouble with the ladies. He was a handsome, athletic type, his dad was a doctor, he was funny, polite, and basically cool. Now, as a 16-year-old junior, he could drive, and he had his own money. Hugh was also good looking, but more on the shy side. Although there were a lot of girls he would have liked to ask out, he often had a hard time getting up the nerve. Hanging out with Justin did help. Between the two of them, they did OK.

It wasn’t far into their junior year when Justin noticed Mimi. Of course, he’d seen her for the previous two years, too, but now it was different. Mimi was a pretty, petite blonde with a body like a young Dolly Parton. The kids had a word to describe girls who looked like Mimi back in the day: tough. ‘Tough” captured hot, foxy, sexy, good-looking, cool…. There was no denying the fact that Mimi was tough!

Word had it, though, that she was going with a kid named Jack who was a couple grades older. They had gone to elementary school together. Because Justin had been a new kid freshman year, and because Mimi and Jack’s elementary school had been in a different part of town from the high school, Justin never really knew who Jack was. But now, Jack had graduated, gone into the military or something, and Mimi was looking available. To Justin, at least.

It’s a funny thing about high school, just as kids from a bunch of elementary schools came together into a much larger school, and just as log established elementary school social pecking orders had to be rebuilt in the larger environment, those elementary schools, themselves, had a pecking order. Depending on their size, location in town, socio-economics of their populations, ethnic make-up, and so on, the schools, themselves, often determined where kids started their high school social climb. Hugh was from a different town. The town was known, but more or less neutral. He could fit in with whatever group took him in. Justin was from a whole other place. He had his cool accent, and his dad was a doctor. Instant ‘in’ with the A-list kids. Mimi lived in a working class part of town. The word “tough” carried it traditional meaning along with the cool, current meaning. She had it in her to survive. In a way, the A-list guys sometimes saw her as an easy target, while the A-list girls saw her as competition, in a way. Justin knew or saw none of that. Hugh was basically oblivious to this.

So Mimi was available. Justin was looking. She caught his eye. He was smitten.

The first school dance of junior year was coming up. It was going to be help on the last Friday evening on September – about 3 weeks into the new year. At the school gym. It wasn’t anything formal. Dances like this one were generally just chances for kids to meet, listen to music, maybe even dance. Girls on one side of the gym. Boys on the other. There were exceptions, however. But everyone knew who they were.

For this first dance, the school bus from the boys’ hometown made a special run. Any of the student riders who wanted to go to the dance could ride.  The bus was as full as any regular day of school. The main difference was the look and smell. The kids were dressed up, even if only a little bit. And they were wearing their favorite fragrances – perfumes and after shaves. Phew!

Justin’s goal was to find Mimi. Then, to dance at least one time with her. Then, if all went well during that dance, to ask her out on a date. A movie, maybe. If all that worked out, he would have to find somebody for Hugh to ask out so that they could double date. After all, it was a long rode alone – both ways.

The bus arrived; everyone got off. Some of the kids went straight inside; others lingered outside. Justin went straight in. Hugh lingered a bit but followed in short order.

By the time Hugh got fully into the gym, Justin was fully engaged in conversation with Mimi. He had a goal, after all, and he was following his plan.  Hugh walked over to say hi to the two of them and walked off to find some other friends to hang with. Before long, Justin joined him and some other guys. His smile spoke volumes.

Most of the guys danced with somebody or other over the course of the evening. They’d cluster back together, compare notes, and generally bullshit about school, sports, girls… Justin went back to talk or dance with Mimi several times.

As time went on, some of the guy-cluster BS focused on Justin. “Mimi’s hot,” one of the guys commented, “And Justin looks like he needs to cool down!”

“What’s he thinking?” another guy asked.

“You know what he’s thinking,” another friend shot back with a sly smile.

“No, I mean, really -what is he thinking? Doesn’t he know about her?”

Hugh jumped in, “What? What do you mean?”

“I mean…Jack! She’s going with Jack, for God’s sake!”

Hugh’s turn again, “What? Who?”

So the story began to come out. Everybody knew that Mimi was going with Jack. They’d been going together since about 7th or 8th grade. Jack was older, and he had graduated. He was gone. Out of town. But they were still going together. Hugh was taken aback.

“What? No way! No shit!”

And so it went. Jack was gone. In the Navy or something. But the two of them were still tight. Maybe Mimi needed a little attention in the meantime. Some fun. Who knew?

Justin rejoined his buddies. He took Hugh aside and told him that Mimi had agreed to go out with him. Now, he said, they needed to find a date for Hugh so that they could double. Hugh was surprised – double surprised, actually. First by the conversation he’d had with the other guys, and now with Justin’s plan to double date.

The dance ended and the bus ride home began.

Justin was almost giddy; Hugh was silent. Justin started first. “So – who are you going to ask out?”

That question was not what was on Hugh’s mind. He was thinking about the other conversation he’d had with the guys.

The two friends talked about Justin’s question. They considered a list of possibilities. Mimi, as it turned out, only had a few close girl friends. The guys knew most of them – and none was anyone Hugh wanted to go out with. Hugh named off a few girls he might be comfortable asking out. It was short notice, and he’d never had a going-out conversation with any of them. As they rode home, they narrowed it down to three: Cathy, Kathy, and Kate. (Who knew?) Catherine and Kathleen were both classmates at school. Kate was a good friend of Hugh’s since elementary school. She had met Justin, but had no idea who Mimi was. She was maybe the safest, all the way around. The guys picked a date about two weeks out, opted for a movie and some food afterwards. Now all Hugh had to do was ask Kate.

Two weeks later, the four of them went to a movie. Biggest challenge was talking Kate’s parents into letting her go all the way to the ‘city’ to see a movie. They knew Hugh and his family, and they’d met Justin, so they allowed Kate to go. Justin , Hugh and Kate drove the 20 miles or so to Mimi’s house and picked her up. They saw some silly comedy – after much discussion about whether to see a musical or a shoot-‘em-up Western. Afterwards, they got burgers at the best hamburger place in town. They had a great time together. They dropped Mimi off, and Justin, Hugh and Kate drove the 20 miles or so home.

Great start to a relationship!

Later, though, Kate told Hugh that, when the girls had gone to the ladies’ room together, Mimi had mentioned some guy named Jack. She’d accidently called Justin Jack, and explained that she had this other guy who she had dated, and his name was Jack. Kate asked if Hugh knew Jack. He told Kate that he didn’t, but that he had heard of him.

Time went on. Justin and Mimi went out more and more.

And as they did, more and more kids – both guys and girls – talked to Hugh about Mimi and Jack. “He’s being played.” “He’s gonna get hurt.” “You gotta talk to him.” “He’s too nice a guy to be used like this.”

Hugh did talk to Justin, too. The more serious the two of them seemed to get, the more Hugh heard stories. And the more he tried to warn his good friend. Justin heard no one of it.

In all fairness, what he wanted to talk about were the good things about Mimi. And there were many. She was very pretty. She was funny. She was smart. In many ways, she was kind.  Hugh had to admit that, in many respects, he actually liked her. She was fun to be around. She did take care of some of Justin’s needs. But it was difficult to overlook that she was satisfying more of her own than of his. It was also difficult to overlook that she was never fully honest with Justin.

During the summers between their junior and senior years of school, Hugh and Justin lifeguarded together. In the evenings, they often double dated. Hugh with different girls; Justin with Mimi. Their time at the pool gave them time to talk without anyone else listening. They were moving through their high school years, They had established themselves fairly high in their high school hierarchy. Because they were outside the home-town, in-school ranking system, had a lot of local friends, and had jobs and money, they moved in good circles locally, as well. Among all the friend groups, post-high school options became more of an ongoing topic.

Standing in the sun, surrounded by little kids and girls in bikinis, Justin admitted that he was torn. His family expected him to apply to and attend the prestigious university which his older brother was attending. Justin was concerned, though, because he’d be away from Mimi, who was more likely to start a job near home after school. It was during these conversations that Hugh tried repeatedly to tell his best friend that the girl was still very committed to the other guy, Jack. Justin wasn’t hearing it. And if he heard it, he was not accepting it.

Quite the opposite.

One day late that summer, both Justin and Hugh would have the same day off from their lifeguard duties.

“Let’s go for a ride,” Justin said. Hugh asked where.

“I want to go back to the place I used to live and get something.” It would be about a 3-4 hour ride each way. Hugh had never been to the city, so, after checking with his parents, they decided to go.

It was a long, pretty drive. The boys talked most of the way. They eventually reached the suburb where Justin had grown up. They stopped at one store. A jewelry store. Justin had saved enough money to buy a beautiful, but small ring with a tiny diamond. As rings go, it really was neither expensive, nor showy, but Justin wanted to shop and buy the ring with no one else around. Except Hugh, of course. Hugh was stunned. Justin was excited, He said that he hoped to give the ring to Mimi someday. It was a long, pretty drive home. The boys didn’t talk much.

And so it went.

Senior year arrived. Advanced classes. College applications. Yearbook pictures. Class rings. Senior Day. Awards. Acceptance letters. Prom. It’s a heady time for a teen.

Dates were taken to a higher level. Where a movie and a hamburger were once acceptable, it was now dress up and dinner at a fine restaurant. It was drives to special places, and barely making curfew. Justin and Mimi did it all. They didn’t always double with other couples, either. They acted like a real couple. Except that the girls still talked. They talked among themselves. They talked to their boyfriends. They talked. Because Mimi had been dating Justin, she had been invited to some of the more elite, higher status gatherings.

She let her guard down from time to time, and her old and true feelings about Justin and Jack came out. Justin was a great guy. Any girl would be crazy not to go out with him. He was cute, smart, funny, had a car. And he was rich. They did wonderful things together. He filled a need for her. But Jack was her man. No, her Man. They’d be together after graduation and after his stint in the Navy.

Some of the guys tried to tell Justin. The more they heard, they more they knew that he would be deeply hurt, and they did not want that to happen to somebody as nice as he was.  They talked even more to Hugh. “You gotta convince him, Bro! He’s gonna go down, big time!”

Hugh laid it out to Justin as clearly as he could. He agreed that Mimi was tough. Hot. Built like a brick shithouse. A great dancer. Funny. But she was also committed to that other guy, Jack. She’d been writing, calling, and even seeing him whenever he was home and Justin was elsewhere. Hugh told Justin that going to get badly hurt. Dumped. As graduation got closer, so did the break-up.

Justin would hear none of it. In fact, he got pretty pissed at Hugh. He trusted his friend, but he refused to believe what Hugh and others were saying. But he, himself, never brought it up to Mimi. God only knows what she might have told him. But whatever that might have been, Justin never heard it.

As senior prom came and went. It was a fantastic evening. Justin and Mimi, Hugh and his date doubled once again. It was hard on Hugh. It was uncomfortable for his date, as well. She knew what would be coming soon.

 As high school graduation came closer and closer, Justin and Mimi talked about the future – their future. Justin was going off to college; Mimi would not. Justin talked about the times when she might come and visit him on campus. She smiled and played along. She knew the truth of it all, but she still played him.

On graduation day, all the seniors were capped and gowned. All their families were present to celebrate. After the ceremony, classmates all said their good-byes with hugs and tears. Old friends went to catch up with parents, grandparents, siblings and friends.

Justin found his family.  Mimi founds hers. Justin’s family had planned a nice dinner at their favorite restaurant. Mimi was invited to join them. She declined saying that her own family was also planning a party.

Smiling, Justin looked across the lobby of the auditorium to wave good-bye to Mimi. There, surrounded by her family, Mimi stood in the warm embrace of Jack. She looked across the lobby and waved good-bye to Justin. And like that, it was over. Forever.

Justin stood alone. Unmoving. Staring into emptiness, emptiness filled with laughter and old friends.

Jesus. Mary. And Joseph!” Hugh snarled, glad that no one was close by.  “What the hell is wrong with that guy!?” He was so goddam angry on this otherwise happy day that it was a blessing he stood momentarily alone.

He caught Justin’s eye across the lobby. A brief exchange. Justin gave a small, semi-shrug and an all but imperceptible smile. Hugh nodded. Justin tossed something into the nearby rubbish bin.

Justin turned to his smiling mom and dad and left with his family.

Maggie May, Jack and Diane

Maggie May,

Rod Stewart 

Maggie May, Jack & Diane:

The Last Good-bye

“Good-bye,” she said half turned away from him.

He leaned toward her to give her a kiss.

“No.”  “No,” she repeated as she turned fully away and walked to her car.

He said nothing.

Their story is, in some ways, the final verse of “Jack and Diane”, but for some reason “Maggie May” always brings them to mind. Over the years, their friends had come to know just about everything about their relationship. I’d known the guy all my life. We were close, so I heard a lot in short order. But even I didn’t know about this part of their story. None of us did. Yet, anyway. It was over. Fully and finally over.

Their story had started years before when they were both sophomores – or was it freshmen – in college. Lots of small-town friends end up attending the same colleges, and there were lots of small towns in the PA, NY, NJ region we were from. There were some big city guys and girls, too. That added color to the mix. And small bands of friends, both of guys and of girls, mixed and mingled. Circles grew. A few contracted. But when all was said and done, most groups expanded.

As they did so, couples moved and flexed as well. Cool guys and hot girls changed partners. Guys who had not been so cool found themselves with new partner possibilities while late blooming girls now had to fend off would-be Casanovas. Some paired up for the short term, others longer term. Others just kept playing the ever-changing field.

That’s what happened with Diane, the girl, and Jack, the guy in this story. She was from a small town, fairly close to our university. She’d been a cheerleader; her high school steady was the football captain. Jack was from a different small town, farther away. His high school girlfriend was still in high school. He was moving on.

They’d seen one another at a mixer or something not long after school had started. They never officially met, but they were aware of each other. Because Diane was still officially linked to the football star, her friends didn’t try to fix her up with anyone, initially. Because Jack was not exactly still with his old high school girl friend, his friends had no problem trying to hook him up with someone among their new and expanding groups. It’d been fun, but nothing serious came from any of it.

That is, not until Diane finally broke up with the football star. (She would later tell Jack that the star had actually been pretty abusive in some ways.) Now she was free. Jack was free, as well. And there was a keg party planned for the weekend. They were both there. Both available. Both in the mix of conversation, beer, and dancing. They met for real. They drank. They danced. They ate. They talked and laughed. They enjoyed themselves. Then they went back to their dorms with the groups they’d come with. But they did plan to meet again. The girls heard all about it in their dorm; the guys heard all about it over smuggled-in beers.

Before long, Jack and Diane were more or less recognized as a couple. I say more-or-less because none of the girls had set it up. None of the guys had suggested that he snatch her up before they did. They just fell together organically. Nor were they lovey-kissy-tied-at-the-hip coupled. They called each other “Buddy”. They had just become good friends who happened to be dating, and they liked it that way.

They did make a cute couple, too. Diane was a healthy cheerleader type. She wasn’t drop dead gorgeous, but she was hot. She was the kind of girl who got stared at – for all the right reasons, and some of the wrong. Jack was tall, with thick wavy hair, blue eyes, and a great smile. He also got stared at – mostly by other guys thinking, “What’s he doing with a babe like her?!”

They had fun together. And as they were now a couple, they often double dated with other new couples. Since neither had a car, it was also fun to go out with couples who either did have a car, or with others who loved to walk.

Because her small town was close to college, Jack got to meet Diane’s family before she got to meet his. Her family was happy to meet him; her parents were especially happy that she was away from the damn football player. She also had a couple younger brothers who seemed cool. They all got along well.

Although they didn’t get to go to his home town, the network of friends and friends of friends spread word that he was seeing someone who was not his old high school girlfriend. Truth be told, I was probably part of that network.

None of this went through either of their minds as she said good-bye.

They planned to go to the annual, big formal ball later that winter. Everybody went. This was the time when all girls did their best to connect their non-committed friends to one of the non-committed boys. Boys and girls work together to ensure workable combinations, couples who may never be getting married, but who would have a good time and not ruin things for all their friends. Even the least likely girls and most solitary guys got paired up. This was senior prom on steroids – and everybody went.

One of the more popular parts of this formal event was the pre-post party at a local hotel. This had been going on for years. The university was in Pennsylvania. The drinking age was 21 at the time. Many of the students were from New York where, at the time, the drinking age was 18. Students frequently rented a room or a set of rooms at the hotel – preferably away from the lobby area – and partied. Everyone knew; no one knew.  Motivated fun; motivated blindness.

The group planning this season’s function knew the rules. They got a group of three rooms in a quiet corner conveniently near the rear of the 3rd floor of the hotel. Eight to ten couples planned to party, dance and safely stay the night. Diane and Jack were among them.

Diane was especially proud of her formal dress for evening. Her mom, an excellent seamstress, had found a very high fashion Vogue pattern and sewn a really beautiful gown. Diane was a knock-out, turning heads throughout the evening. Jack, in his rented tux, was handsome, proud and happy. After the dance, the whole group went back to the hotel. Although they were exhausted, they stayed up a little longer for a post-prom function and a final drink or two. Then they all found places on the various beds in one of the three rooms to crash.

Diane was very careful to make sure that her beautiful gown was not thrown into a pile or crumpled in a corner. She and Jack found the edge of one of the beds in one of the rooms and curled up. Beside them in the same bed were two other couples also curling and crashing.

That night, Jack and Diane made love for the first time. Very quietly and without a lot of rolling around, they fully became lovers. The others in the bed slept through it all. As the two of them told the story to their closest friends later, the hardest part was not laughing so hard that they woke up their bed mates. Of course, their closest friends told their next closest friends, and the story spread. To be honest, when Jack told me, I kept this one pretty close to the vest. “I am sure glad that I wasn’t one of those people in bed with you two,” I told him.

Time passed. Their love life continued. From all reports, it was frequent and satisfying. However, Diane would often tell her friends that, close as the two had become, and as good friends as they were, Jack had never told her that he loved her. “Oh, sure,” she’d say. “he smiles and nods or says something like ‘me, too’ when I say that to him. But he never just says it to me,” It was obviously painful for her.

Jack, on the other hand, would tell his closest friends that Diane was probably his closest friend. Almost closer than they were to him. He didn’t tell me that, but I also knew that Jack was not preparing to settle down anytime in the near future. He had always wanted to leave the small-town life he’d grown up in and to experience more of the world.

Over time, everybody got to meet and to know everybody else’s family. Diane’s mother took on a special role among all the guys. She was young as mothers go, and pretty; and she became known as their Mrs. Robinson. Not that she’d ever play that role with Jack – or any of the other guys. However, even as she found out – as other Jacks talked to other Dianes, and word spread – she took it as more complimentary than an insulting.

Time moved on. The undergraduate years were moving toward their close. Many of the couples who had developed over time were making plans for their futures. There were talks of jobs, graduate school, and of weddings. Diane and Jack were also talking about their futures. Note the plural. Although great friends and lovers, they were not talking love and marriage. Among the girls, Diane again shared that this really bothered her. Among the young men, it wasn’t much of a conversation. “We’ll see what happens,” he’d tell us. “I like her a lot, but I’m not ready to settle down.”

Graduation approached. With all the graduation announcements, there were a few wedding invitations. Jack, though, had made other plans. After graduation, he headed back to Jersey. He also planned to travel for a while, look at a few grad school options he had in mind, and likely find a job. As always, he had no intention of moving back to his small hometown. There was that world to explore and experience. As for his relationship with Diane, he told us that she knew what he wanted to do. She understood. They’d wait and see when the future brought.

And so, as they graduated, they separated. Each had a plan for the near future; each left the longer term open. They would stay in contact, see each other, grow personally – and perhaps professionally – and let the future take its course. Jack was happy. Diane was resigned.

They went their separate ways. Jack traveled, worked, experienced a wider portion of life. Diane studied, got her Master’s degree, and landed a good job not in, but not too far from, her home and their college town. Diane and Jack kept in touch. Letters. Pictures. An occasional phone call. She went to several of the weddings of friends; being away, he missed them. As usual, the girls talked frequently. The guys less so. But news did spread.

One day, Jack came back home to visit his family. It so happened that while he was home, one of the many pairs of old couple-friends was getting married.  The bride of the couple was from Jack’s own home town, so the wedding would also take place there. Much of their old group would be coming to the wedding. Like old times!

To make it even more like old times, the group got a place for a pre- and post-wedding party. Not at a local hotel this time, but a cottage on the shore of a nearby lake. Not everyone would be there, of course, but there would be several couples and some stags. There was now even a baby. Times had changed things.

People arrived at the cottage a day or two before the wedding. Time to reconnect. Diane was there, but Jack was not. They met at the wedding. It was a beautiful day; the weather was perfect. Their reunion was slightly strained, but warm and happy. “Hey, Buddy,” Jack said. “Hey Bud,” Diane tossed back.

After the reception, several of the old friends drove off to the cottage by the lake. They’d brought burgers and hotdogs to barbecue, other goodies to eat, and, of course, beer and wine to drink. Somebody brought a 5th of rum and some soft drinks. They were going to try to recreate the famous-infamous concoction they’d drunk at the hotel during their college years.

The lake was warm and inviting. Richie Havens sang “Here Comes the Sun” on the radio. The old friends bonded as if the years had not changed their lives at all. Jack and Diane seemed to fall back into their close relationship once again. Good times, as they say, were had by all.

That night, with all the people and the baby, there was less concern about being quiet. But Jack never said I love you. And Diane noticed.

After the full weekend, Diane had a long drive back to her home, so Jack suggested that she spend a night at his house. His mother would be there; she’d be happy to see her again. She agreed.

They drove the not-too-many miles to Jack’s home. As he had said, his mother was happy to see Diane after the intervening years. They had a light dinner and relaxed for a while before going to sleep. The next day would be busy with yet more travel.

Jack’s mother said good night and went off to bed. Diane and Jack watched some TV. She later told her friends that she was hoping and praying to get some kind of a commitment from him for the future. She also had a story to tell him – a confession, as it were. When they’d both gone their separate ways after college, there had been no commitment between them. They’d been free to date anyone they chose to see. He agreed. Over time, he’d gone out with different girls, and he expected that she had as well. “Yes,” she said. “but I have to tell you something, something I’m not proud of.” She hesitated for a moment. “I got pregnant. I had an abortion.”

She was looking for some kind of reaction but got very little. Did she expect anger? Did she expect pity? Did she expect him to kick her out of the house? She didn’t know what to expect. What she got was a quiet, stolid non-reaction. She later told her friends that it was like he hadn’t really heard her, or, if he had, he hadn’t grasped the magnitude of what she’s shared. He took her hand and said, “That’s ok. You did what you had to do.” She later told her friends that she wanted to add that it had been his baby, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit that.

He held her. That, at least, was comforting.

They hugged. Hugging led to foreplay. Foreplay led to more. Before long, they were back in the hotel room being as quite as possible.

Then they heard the footsteps as Jacks mother came down the stairs. She’d forgotten something in the kitchen. Jack and Diane scrambled to re-dress and cover up, but it was too late. Unlike those other couples in the hotel all those years ago, Jacks mother walked in on them.

The scene did not play out well. Embarrassment and tears. Hiding and prayers. Hellfire and damnation. Diane was told to leave the house immediately. She later confided to her friends that she was hoping against hope that Jack would say or do something, come to her defense, leave with her. But that was not the case. So she quickly packed up what little she had to pack and left in the middle of the night. When Jack and I talked some time later, the story going around among the girls was basically the story I heard from him.

That night, he carried her bag to her car.

“Good-bye,” she said half turned away from him.

He leaned toward her to give her a kiss. “Buddy.”

“No.” She repeated, “No,” as she turned fully away and walked to her car.

Jack said nothing.

Diane drove away into the night.

Beauty in the Cemetery

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

Elton John & Bernie Taupin

Beauty In the Cemetery

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, they say.

Beauty is as beauty does.  They say that, too.

Let me show you beauty from a beholder’s point of view. 

The Beautiful Girl was almost ready for her first big formal dance.  Her date, a boy friend, but not a boyfriend, arrived to pick her up.  He knew her, of course, but he, too, was nervous.  It was his first big dance, as well.  He rang the bell, the door opened, he was invited in.  He stepped inside the house and waited in the entry way for the girl to come down from her room.  In her silver, strapless gown, with her hair done just so, with minimal make up, she appeared.  The young man’s knees buckled.  He had to catch his breath and catch himself on the door jamb lest he fall over.  It took more than a moment before he could speak. 

On another evening, the Beautiful Girl went to dinner with her parents.  The family entered the dining room of the restaurant, they saw a couple they knew well.  They had come to know them after their daughter had left for college. The couple knew of her but did not know her.  The wife looked up, saw her friends and smiled in recognition.  She waved and the girl’s parents could see her mouth “Oh, look who just came in,” to her husband whose back was to the approaching family coming to the table to say hello.  As they did, the woman’s husband looked up to say hello.  He greeted the wife and husband before he looked to the daughter.  When he did, however, his jaw dropped.  For a brief moment, he was speechless.  He recovered before the Beautiful Girl’s father broke out laughing.

“You’re going to have to be careful,” the girl’s father sometimes warned her.  “Some people will love you and some will hate you because you are beautiful.”  “Oh, Dad,” she would answer.  “Don’t be goofy.  I’m not beautiful.”

But she was.  She was profoundly, deeply, enduringly, knee-buckling, jaw-dropping, head-turning, everlastingly beautiful.  That she was unaware – and unaware of its impact – only magnified the fact.

Her father was right.  There were those who loved her because of her beauty.  Boys, of course.  Over the years, there was a succession of young men.  They came from all walks and backgrounds, but they had one thing in common.  They loved the beautiful young woman deeply.

There were girls, as well.  Her circle of female friends was tight and wide.  There was a certain cache which came from being her friend.  Most of her friends were, themselves, attractive.  In her presence, though, they were even more so. Reflected glory. 

And there were those who hated her.  Both boys and girls.  Boys who thought they didn’t have a chance.  Girls who were just plain jealous.  They befriended; they betrayed.  They talked sweet; they talked trash.  The Beautiful Girl rose above it and saw them all as friends.

Let me tell you what beauty does.

The Beautiful Girl had a warm heart and an old soul. There was a succession of young men who passed through the Beautiful Girl’s life.  Over the years, as one boy or another and the Beautiful Girl broke up, they remained friends.  Actually, they usually remained good friends.  Oddly enough, over the years, the boys, too, often became friends.  Their shared experience of love for the girl brought them together and bonded them.

One young man was a college classmate named Jesse.  Raised in Manhattan, Jesse’s uptight, rush-rush experience had been quite different from the girl’s rainy, slower-paced Northwest lifestyle.  Apparently adapting to a laid-back Colorado life-style, Jesse didn’t seem to believe in combs.  Or shampoo. Or razors, electric or safety.  He tended not to groom much.  His wardrobe consisted of a few tattered t-shirts, jeans – various pairs with holes in various places – and hiking boots.  For dress-up occasions, he had a shirt with a collar.  For winter, he had a hand-knit beanie, scarf and down jacket.  For travel, he had a backpack.  What Jesse also had was a facile mind and the sweet disposition of a cocker spaniel puppy.  In a New York minute, Jesse had endeared himself to the Beautiful Girl.  Before visiting her family, the girl made sure that Jesse had a tooth brush. 

And so they came to the Northwest to meet family and visit friends.  At Christmas.  That made it interesting.  Jesse, you see, was Jewish.  His father, a Rabbi.  The Beautiful Girl was Catholic.  Her uncle, a priest. 

The girl’s family wanted to be sure that Jesse was comfortable in their home, with the holiday.  They filled a stocking, a deep blue stocking decorated with a silver dreidel.  Jesse, for his part, had brought Christmas presents for each of the members of the family.  They liked each other; they all got along well.  It was a good holiday.

However, everybody seemed to know that this was not going to work out.  Lovable as Jesse was, there were just too many differences between Jesse and the girl.  The only person who wasn’t aware that the relationship was doomed was Jesse.

After the holidays, they dated a while longer.  As winter thawed, trees bloomed and the weather warmed, the relationship began to cool.  Jesse bought a comb to go with his toothbrush.  He bought some cool, fashionable shorts.  He even showered regularly, but it was to no avail.  They dated less and less although they still saw each other frequently.  As friends.

In time, the girl met a new guy.  There was something different this time.  Something solid.  Something lasting.   There was also a different challenge.  It was graduation time.  After commencement, the Beautiful Girl planned to return home, find a job and start her life.  Both Jesse and the new guy would be left behind.  It was clear though that only Jesse would be left alone.

“You gotta say good-bye to Jesse,” the new guy said one day.  “You gotta tell him that you are leaving to go home.”

“It’ll break his heart,” she replied.  “It’ll be really tough on him.”

“Yes, but…,” was all he said.  She nodded.

“Jesse,” she spoke into her cell phone, “can we get together sometime in the next couple days?”

“Sure.”  Hope?

“I’ll pick you up on Saturday morning.  Coffee. 10:30. How’s that?”  Jesse had neither car nor license.

The Beautiful Girl picked up the shaved and brushed young man at 10:30 the following Saturday morning.  As they drove, they talked, caught up on how the semester had ended, how graduation had been fun, how the summer was heating up. Why he had shaved.

They drove past one Starbucks.  Then two.  They didn’t stop at their old favorite breakfast place.  They drove through the familiar downtown of their college town and on out of town.  It wasn’t long before they reached the town cemetery.  The girl pulled in and parked.  Together they walked toward a fairly new grave decorated with brightly colored potted plants.

“Jesse,” she said as she turned to look at him, “I’m leaving.  I’m going home.  We probably won’t see ever each other again.  I wanted to see you to tell you that.  I didn’t want to just leave.”

Tears welled in Jesse’s eyes.  They rolled down his cheeks.  He began to gently tremble as the tears flowed more and more freely.  They hugged.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I really appreciate that. I’ll never forget you.”

“Me, too, Jess.  Shall we go?” she asked.

“No, you go,” Jesse replied.  “I’ll walk.  It’ll be better that way.  And Babe…thank you.”

As she pulled out of her parking spot, the girl looked back one last time.  Jesse, alone and crying, gently swayed as he stood among the flowering plants.

“You did what?” her dad asked later, after he had heard the story. “In the cemetery? Why…?”

“Well,” the Beautiful Girl said gently, “I knew he’d be sad, and I figured he’d cry.  I didn’t want him to be embarrassed, so I took him to a place where he could cry openly, in public, and no one would care.”

That is what happened.

That is what beauty does.