The Humper Game Pt. 04 Ch. 03

I looked enough to be pretty sure I understood the controls well enough, and then went off to the clerk. In this case, I thought she was the owner or perhaps just the manager. She'd been in evidence every time I had been there, though usually there was a salesclerk at the counter—and in fact, while we were talking, one came from doing something else to cover the register. She had also asked whether I needed help a couple of times, and pointed me to things I wasn't finding.

I explained what I wanted, and she let me borrow one of the dozens of coffee mugs there for sale, and also had me get water out of the employees-only restroom. I tested each of the bigger microwaves on the mug of water, the first getting it somewhat hot, the next bringing it to a full boil. Both seemed to work well. I dumped the water, dried the mug, and put it back on the hook where I'd found it. I took the one whose controls seemed more naturally laid out, and took it to the counter. I asked the clerk if I might leave it there until my girlfriend and I finished looking for some other things, and she was agreeable.

I found Ellen with an armload of stuff and spoke briefly with her. I told her that the microwave wasn't super-heavy, but that it was heavy enough that she might have to carry everything else.

I decided that clothes could wait. I found several odds and ends that had gotten onto my list, and then a minor but very real treasure: three empty 35mm film canisters—it seemed that some people still used film! But they were just the right size to hold quarters, and I thought they'd hold plenty for doing laundry. Probably two of them would suffice, and maybe even one, but I was glad to have three.

I consulted Ellen, and she was enthusiastic about the drying rack. It was very light, and she said she could manage that and all her stuff too. She had also picked out a couple of platters for serving food. Ellen was so elegant in many ways that I was really glad she didn't think having stuff match was at all important at that point. I did warn her that the drying rack was somewhat flimsy, and she'd have to carry it a bit carefully.

"You know," she told me, "we could have driven over here. It's so close, but we could have run out to the supermarket on our way home. We do need to go back, and today seems like the best time."

"I wish I'd thought of that. I should be able to get this microwave home, but it's going to be a pain."

The young man right in front of us in line at the counter—the first line I'd seen there that day—overheard this and offered to give us—and our stuff—a ride home. We gratefully accepted.

As he checked out himself, he introduced himself as Tom Piper. We told him who we were, and that after two weeks for Ellen and a week for me we were still finding lots of things we needed. He waited until we had paid for our stuff. I thanked the clerk for letting me park the microwave there, and asked her to pass on to the manager my thanks for her letting me test the microwave. I verified that she was the manager but also the owner.

The microwave went in Tom's trunk with his stuff, and the drying rack kind of standing in the back seat. Ellen was able to squeeze in back. We chatted for the couple of minutes it took him to take us to our apartment building, and expressed deep thanks for the lift. I could have carried the microwave, but it was several blocks and the thing was rather heavy and also unwieldy. We took the elevator upstairs, and Ellen unlocked the door and opened it, putting some of her stuff down to do it.

The microwave went on the kitchen counter, near an outlet. I hoped the wiring and breaker were up to it. Well, there was only one test really available at the moment. Before I tried it, I located the breaker panel, and I hoped the labels were accurate. Then I stationed Ellen by the box with a flashlight, just in case. I boiled another cup of water to see, and there were no indications that the drain was too great. The plug and cord didn't heat up, that I could detect. The microwave and toaster oven between them took up kind of a lot of counter, though.

Ellen found a reasonable place to stash the drying rack. She said, "This means when we do laundry, any wet stuff is coming up here. I really might just about as well move in. Appliances, most of the food, everything is all up here. And, of course, the man I love, too."

She came over and kissed me, and then didn't let go. "Phil, if you want to meet my parents and for me to meet yours before we move in together, let's be planning for it, maybe at Christmas. I'll need to tell my parents a little before then, but I think I don't want to give them too long to brood about it. Maybe we can visit them for a few days and then go off to your parents'."

"We'll have to work for a time when my parents will be home, unfortunately. Should I call them and discuss this right now?"

"No! At the very least, I want to talk to the management company first. The fact that they have queen beds in the apartments must mean that lots of times there are two people, but I really want to make sure there aren't issues we don't know about. I'll do that early in the week. And I want to be with you, so much, but I think we need to talk about it more before we check out parents.

"OK, you probably should check with your parents about when they'll be home. Not necessarily now, but soon. But if it's OK with you, just tell them you want them to meet your girlfriend, if that's OK. If we go to their house, it's really likely that Jenny and Sam, or one of them, will come in. And we can pass them off as just our good friends, to your parents, without a lot of explanations, but you'll owe them some couple time if they do and want that, and we'll all need to have decided how to manage that.

"And we can ask the management company questions first, but we really need to talk with Sam and Jenny way ahead of time. I think they won't have any problem with our sharing an apartment, but maybe I'm wrong. But after all, you practically lived out of Sam's room for most of a year."

I kissed her again, at a little length, then broke and went over to start fixing lunch—nothing very involved, just heating the rest of the leftover spaghetti—and it didn't take very long.

As we ate, I went over my meal plan—only dinners, really—for the coming week, and Ellen suggested some changes. In particular, she insisted that she wanted to be responsible for at least one dinner a week—with my assistance as needed, just as I felt free to call on her if she wasn't very busy with studying or something else urgent and important—and so we changed one night to something she wanted to fix. I took stock of what was needed for the week's meals, and got most of it on my list for the supermarket. A few things, such as salad vegetables and other pretty perishable items, I figured we'd get at the local grocery as needed, but I planned to get a first round at the supermarket.

Again, Ellen insisted on going along. The stuff at the resale store hadn't been very expensive, and she had let me pay for it all, after all. But she was determined that she was paying for at least most of this trip to the supermarket. I gave up on arguing. I was glad to have her along, anyway, except for the wasted time, when she might have been studying. Doing almost anything with Ellen turned a chore into a joy.

She insisted on taking her car instead of mine, too.

We ended up buying a fair number of things on impulse, mostly because they were on sale and we would be buying them before too long anyway. And somehow in getting staples I had never thought of commercial canned soups and canned tuna, so we also got those. On seeing the bill, she said, "I'm paying for this, but I'll let you take care of some other things I would have argued about." We both were kind of shocked at the total.

I thought to myself that I was going to start looking for the kind of article that talked about more frugal recipes. On the other hand, I had a sudden realization. As we loaded our purchases into the trunk, I said, "Ellen, we probably do need to cut back some, but I've been stupid, in my meal planning I mean. I should have realized it after—remember last Saturday? We had another meal's worth of leftovers, which I kept forgetting about. And we just finished that leftover spaghetti. At least some of the things I'm planning to fix will make enough for two or maybe three meals. We'll have to freeze leftovers, when we can, but this really is a lot more than one week's shopping. And we'll have some quicker meals later."

She drove back home, and we carried everything upstairs. To my apartment. Ellen actually had gotten a few things for herself, but she put them away in my cupboards and medicine chest. She came over and kissed me and said, "It looks like we're going to be up here most of the time. Using your sheets again." She smiled at me. "I hope you don't mind."

After that we settled in to study hard. I actually had a paper to do, a real assignment besides reading. The way things worked still surprised me. In high school I would have had at least four assignments like that by now. OK, mostly not quite as long as this one was supposed to be, but requiring a lot more research.

So I decided to basically do the paper it should have been. I covered the assigned topic thoroughly, but I also covered related questions which were begging to be raised as I answered the main questions. It was plainly going to take me most of Sunday afternoon, too, to get it all wrapped up, but reviewing for the rest of my classes wouldn't take very long, and for some of them I had until Tuesday anyway. It was going to be longer than assigned, and I hoped that wouldn't be a problem.

I was wondering what my fellow students did with their time. I'd heard some complaining about having a paper assigned the first week of class. Didn't they expect to have to study?

We stopped to fix supper, a little late in the end. This was one of the meals I'd planned for the past week, and then we had leftovers instead. Pork chops in a spicy sauce, with potatoes and onions. Ellen raved about it, more than seemed appropriate to me.

What made dinner late was that I looked at the time. Eastern time ran three hours later! We called Jenny and Sam—and also Aunt Sally, just to talk a little, after Jenny and Sam. Uncle John was out at a meeting. Aunt Sally and Ellen talked for a while, what I can only describe as girl talk, but it probably wasn't quite what most people would mean by that. Small talk, anyway. But it was clear that by that time, Ellen was welcome in their home not just as Sam's friend nor even as mine. Certainly not just as my girlfriend-of-the-moment! She was someone they liked and respected and wanted to see. Aunt Sally plainly understood that she wasn't taking me away from Sam or anything like that, and if the relationship wasn't something she fully approved of, she still loved and welcomed Ellen and me. I was about ready to cry before they said goodbye and disconnected.

Ellen could see that I was choked up, and asked me what was wrong, but almost as soon as I started explaining she saw where I was headed and understood completely. "Phil, they originally welcomed you as Sam's friend. Friend and lover, and they had mixed feelings about that part, and they still do. But they started to get to know you very quickly, and they like and respect you—more than you realize, I think.

"They would welcome you as Sam's husband, they'd love for it to come to that. And it may yet, and I think they're still praying for that, probably every day when they pray for you. But they know that may not happen, and they understand at least part of why not, if it doesn't. They won't care about you any less if it doesn't. You really are still their honorary nephew, either way.

"They welcomed me as Sam's friend and yours. And they liked me, the little I was there. And we've gotten to know each other some, if just by phone, and they can hardly miss that you love me as much as you love Sam, and that I love you. If you and I wind up married, I'll be their nephew's wife. Honorary, but it's still really true, they feel that way about it now. And I like them a lot, and they like me. We don't know each other as well as you know them after two weeks in their home, of course, and even that isn't really a lot. They're looking forward to Thanksgiving, and I am too."

I was still choked up, but of course she was right. It meant a lot to me.

When we talked, before that, to Jenny and then to Sam, I told each about the commitment I'd made to Ellen. I wasn't going to have sex with anyone but her, or them if they were with me and willing, of course. And that if some other woman from school, with some history with me, showed up and wanted to, I would let Ellen decide. Absolute veto power. I said I thought Ellen was making the same commitment to me, but that we hadn't actually discussed it. At this point Ellen jumped in and said that if she hadn't meant that this went both ways she would have said so right then and there. So with Sam, I left out that part, just saying the commitment went both ways.

And I added one more thing, to each of them. I said, "I'm not asking either of you for a commitment like that, not right now for sure. Here, I've got Ellen, and she's got me for that matter. You're there, with no partner in sight for months. If you're at some point inclined to have sex with some guy, well, use your head about whether it's smart, but if so go ahead without feeling you're cheating. I'd like to know, but even that's not a demand.

"But this isn't school, where we were all isolated, and where we all had checkups and tests soon after we came back from every break. The commitment I want from you is this: keep the possibility of STDs in mind. I'd recommend asking any guy about his own history beforehand. Use a condom if there's any real question, and get yourself tested afterward. And I'll commit myself to do the same, if it ever comes up, and I'm pretty sure Ellen's on the same page. And that's even if it's someone from school. Too much may have happened in between." Again, with Sam I had to leave out the "I'm pretty sure" part. Ellen made sure I understood that, after I said it to Jenny.

But when I said that to Jenny, there was total silence from her for at least fifteen seconds. Then she said, "You're doing it again. How can you possibly read my mind clear across the country, when you can't even see me?"

I thought about saying something like, "What in the world are you talking about?" but I decided that wouldn't be honest. I had a pretty good idea. But I did start out, "This is just a guess, an educated guess maybe, but I'm not reading your mind and I don't really know. Going only from what we were talking about, what I'd guess you mean is that you either went to bed with someone, or there's someone specific that you're expecting or planning to go to bed with very soon. If that's it, I'd really like some specifics. If not, then what did you mean?"

There was another silence, not quite as long. Then, sounding like she was about to start crying, Jenny said, "Oh, Phil, I miss you so much! And it's not just the sex, but yes, that's a big part of it. I haven't done anything yet, but I've had several guys ask me for dates. And yes, there's one, Jesse, who's talked to me some. He's in a couple of my classes, and we just went out for coffee and talked between classes two mornings. He's nice, he plainly likes me, and I like him. He asked me out for last night and tonight, and I said I couldn't.

"I didn't explain. I let him think it was that I was too busy, and that wasn't honest, and it's bothering me. I said that because I was thinking of you. I keep remembering what happened the last time, with Brian, and I don't want anything like that, ever again. And now you just said I'm not committed to keeping it exclusive, and I'm—I don't know, it's a little like it was with Brian, I don't know what I want. This time it's because I don't know what the options are. Well, I guess that was true with Brian, but I thought I knew—I just didn't know he wasn't really available to me." She sounded closer to crying than ever.

I told her, "There's a lot to say to that. You and Sam are both too far away for me to have sex with you, so right now it's Ellen by herself. I meant it when I said I'm not asking you for a commitment to avoid romance or sex with everyone while I'm here with Ellen alone. I didn't say you weren't committed—how could I ever know what you've committed yourself to, unless your tell me? I meant that I won't ask you for that commitment.

"I really do ask you for a commitment to the other thing, protecting yourself and me and incidentally Ellen and Sam from STDs. If you're going to have sex with someone, ask him about his past, and be smart about judging whether he's telling the truth. If you're in any real doubt, make him use a condom. But also, at some point, get yourself tested afterward. Or maybe him, first. Or both. This is somewhere between an urgent request and a demand, if you're ever again going to have sex with me. And also—this is a plea, not at all a demand—be honest and open enough to tell me about it, before or after.

Ellen said, "Jenny, he's already had one request for sex. And he turned her down flat—as gently as he could, but with no suggestion of any change of mind being possible—and he said it was because he was committed to me. To us, I mean—he said some about you and Sam—but right now to me. But if he ever does say yes, to anyone, I'll insist that he do what he just told you to do. There are a bunch of girls from school whom I wouldn't veto for a moment if they showed up and wanted a chance at Phil. Most of them, I think, I'd trust if they said they hadn't had sex since school. I'm thinking of Claire and Barbara in particular, but there are others. Phil, do I need to buy you some condoms, just in case, though?"

"Ask me later. My first reaction is to say no, but maybe you should. My first thought is that if I don't think I can trust her—any of them—to be truthful, I don't want her. But then I think, if she has screwed someone, and says so, I might be willing, with a condom. No experience there.

"Jenny, I've made a demand. And a request. May I give you advice, too? If I do, it's yours to accept or reject."

"Phil, I'll listen to any advice you give. I can't promise in advance I'll take it, of course. The last time, I resisted your advice, even though I knew it was right. When I did take it, and too late at that, it broke me up with Brian, which hurt a lot, as you know. But it also proved that I never really had him. I don't think you've ever given me bad advice."

"Well, um. One of the young women at school, um, I'm not going to name names, I don't remember whether you were in on her saying this. She had had trouble having orgasms. But she came, reasonably easily, in gym, with me. And then later, she was my partner again, and she said that after that she hadn't had any trouble enjoying sex more, whoever caught her, and she really hoped that would last. And then she said she was a little worried that after we graduated and she was out in the world, she might be too likely to have sex with any guy who looked at her.

"My advice for you is to really watch that. It's not just your being seduced by the physical pleasure that worries me, it's your being lonely and saying yes to sex just to get cuddling and affection and comfort. I don't mean that you need to never say yes to a guy unless he's totally ready to commit to you, or anything like that. I mean really look at what he wants, and be careful whom you say yes to. And remember, both gym and sex ed kind of trained us to always be ready to say yes, but that may not be such a good idea in the real world."