The Humper Game Pt. 04 Ch. 03

Jenny didn't say anything. After a bit, Ellen said, "Jenny, you know Phil loves you. You heard him say he's not asking you to avoid sex. He doesn't mean to hurt you. You know how hard he's tried to avoid hurting you in the past. But please, he's going to be mad at me for saying this, but please remember that he loves you and it's also very easy for you to hurt him."

Jenny was quiet for a while again. "Thank you, Ellen. I forgot that once, and Sam kind of rubbed my nose in it, but it looks like I still didn't really learn. Phil, I promise I'll really try to go slow with Jesse, and with anyone else, too. And I love you, and your advice is always good. That doesn't always make it easy."

"Jenny, I'm going to say the same stuff to Sam I was saying to you. I think there's no real chance of her falling into bed with anyone, any time soon. I'm more than a little afraid that she won't, even with me, the next time we're together. And if that happens, I'll miss that part of it, terribly, but that won't mean she doesn't love me any more. So please, really understand, I wasn't reading your mind, I only know about Jesse, or anyone else, what you tell me. I do know you some. Remember, you're the one who—. Let me try that again. This is not to criticize you, at all. But you were aware of sexual needs months before senior year started, enough that your hymen was gone before your first time with any man. I know you, maybe as well as anyone does now. You told me about that. I know you want sex more than most of the others I've had, maybe more than any of them, probably more than I do—and you know that's a lot. That's in the abstract. Don't let that lead you into being stupid. Please. I love you."

When I discussed the same topic with Sam, well, I'd been right in what I guessed and said to Jenny. Sam said, "Phil, thank you. For your commitment to Ellen, and to Jenny and me, and for thinking about that kind of thing for me. I probably wouldn't have. You're right, habits got formed at school that maybe aren't the right ones now.

"But I think we don't need to worry about that, any time soon, for me anyway. Jenny may be another matter, of course. I guess it won't surprise you that I'm going to try to avoid the kind of intimacy that could lead to sex, until I've made my mind up about more basic things. And if they go the way they very well may, I'll still be avoiding those things. I know you understand.

"But Phil, that would mean giving up sex with you, too. And I don't know how I can stand that, if it happens."

There was a brief silence.

"Sam, if it comes to that, I know you'll stand it, and do well. I've seen you do things that were just as hard. And you know, if it comes to that, I'll do everything I possibly can not to push you into anything you think you shouldn't do. Whether or not I agree. Ellen and I both love you, and we want you to settle things, but this time it's not because I need to know, it's so you won't go on feeling torn apart. I don't know whether there's anything I can do to help you, but you know I'll do whatever I can if you ask."

Ellen told her much the same thing. And I wished so much I could help her make up her mind, even if it wasn't the decision I wanted her to make. Whatever that was.

We talked with both of them about other things, of course, how things were going with us and with each of them. Sam told us more than Jenny did. One thing she told us about was her attempts to think things through by sketching.

"And none of it is really what I need, I think. But I showed some friends, and my one prof, some of the sketches, and they got a little excited. They saw what I meant, the sketches say too much, they're talky, and that's not good artistically, but apparently there's something there I'm missing, too. They see something good there that I don't, I mean.

"Thank you for suggesting it, Phil. I think I would have done it anyway, but it means a lot to me that you encouraged me to try it. And I'll keep on with it."

After we'd finished talking to Aunt Sally, we got dinner ready and ate. Then Ellen reminded me that she wanted to get her copy of Sam's drawing framed, and one for the Goodfriends, too, so we grabbed the mailing tube holding the copies and hurried off. At the frame shop, the same clerk was there, and less busy. She very definitely remembered us, and the drawing. Ellen chose a cheaper frame. For Uncle John and Aunt Sally, she chose a little nicer one, one she was sure they'd like on their wall, and the clerk assembled them for us.

She said, "You said the artist is a personal friend. If she's ever here, this academic year anyway, I would really like to meet her. That's a good copy, and I'm impressed all over again by how good the drawing is." When I told her Sam was very likely to be in the area sometime, likely around Christmas, she gave us her name—Autumn—and phone number. "Our shifts get switched around a lot, so you can't count on that, so if she comes around please have her call me.

"And in fact, I'd really like a copy of that for myself. You shouldn't give me one without permission, of course, but if you'd ask her I'd really appreciate it. I'd pay, well not anything like what even a copy is worth, but some." I thought about calling Sam then and there, but it was three hours later where she was, and I explained that.

We got home and finished cleaning up and went to bed. It felt like Ellen was even more affectionate than usual—hard as it was to see how that could be—and when I asked her about it, she said that all three of our phone conversations had reminded her more of why she loved me. And then I'd dropped everything to go with her to get the framing done. And the conversation with Autumn had somehow magnified the effect.

I didn't get the framed copy of the drawing for the Goodfriends mailed off until Tuesday, but a few days later I received a note from Aunt Sally, writing—and signing—for both of them. Here's what it said.

Dear Phil and Ellen,

Thank you so much for the copy of Sam's drawing. It is beautiful and outstanding, and your thought for us, and your work in having it so elegantly framed, mean more than I can easily say.

Phil said that this isn't really a thank-you gift on his part, since Sam did the drawing. I'm afraid that I must disagree. The only way in which it is not suitable to that purpose is that it is far too large a gift. It is truly part of a much larger gift, as well, and one that leaves us very deeply in your debt.

Phil, within two minutes of your arrival, you had defused a tense situation. You did this by showing us that Samantha, now Sam, is very different from the young girl who had left us for high school four years earlier. We could, of course, easily see that the pretty young girl had blossomed into a stunningly beautiful young woman. But what matters much more, her character, had undergone a far greater change. You continued to show us how thorough that change was, as you described to us how it came about.

You also showed us how she had blossomed in other areas, areas we probably would not have seen for a long time. You asked her questions about a history class that brought out her intellectual growth, far greater than we had expected or realized. By having her play and sing, you showed us something of her musical attainments. Those, perhaps, are less surprising, yet we were surprised. And now, you are the one who thought we should see how far she has come as an artist of a different kind. Her achievements there are not only a matter of technical skill, but of the aesthetic sense that let her powerfully represent a complex situation.

All this goes far beyond a token to thank us for our hospitality! And that is not even to mention all the help you gave us, with housework and with John out in the yard. That alone had more than repaid us.

Thank you very much for the time, effort, thought, and money it took the two of you to have her drawing prepared for hanging and to send it to us. We're very, very grateful to be

Your loving, if honorary, aunt and uncle,

Sally and John Goodfriend

Sunday morning we slept late. Well, we lazed in bed even after we woke up. We eventually shaved and showered—we needed the shower even without running, by that time.

We had a late, large brunch, and then turned to studying. But after a little while, remembering the time difference, I called Sam.

She was a little surprised, since we'd just talked at some length the night before—kind of late the night before, I realized, from her point of view. But she was bubbling over a bit about church, people, the music, and the sermon too. Linc came into it a bit, but it really was obvious he wasn't the big draw for her, after two Sundays.

We listened with occasional questions and comments and replies, and eventually I explained the call. She put the clerk's name, Autumn Winters, into her phone, plus phone number, plus some kind of description. I told her about Autumn's wanting to buy a copy of the drawing, and she started to say, "Just give her one," and then she backed up. "Wait. She was the one who suggested paying, not you?"

"That's right. I had been thinking of just letting her have one, but I'd have wanted to ask you, and it was too late. She did say, she couldn't offer what it was worth, not even near, even for a photocopy, but I have no clue how much she was thinking of, nor how much such a thing would be worth."

"Phil, thank you. Can I call you back later? I'd like to try calling her myself. It's not unreasonably early there, right?"

"Sam, I'm sorry we waited so late to call yesterday, I should have thought better of it. And I should have thought to apologize right off, today. But no, we got up unreasonably late ourselves, and fixed brunch and ate and cleaned up, and studied some too, before we called. It's not much after one here. PM."

"That was a dumb question, wasn't it? I do know how to count on my fingers. I'll see whether I can reach her, and call you back, OK?"

We went back to studying, and Sam called half an hour later.

"She wasn't exactly sure, either. Professional prints, as opposed to photocopies, of artists who have some reputation might go for a few thousand up to maybe a hundred thousand. She was thinking maybe a hundred dollars. I asked her how much she made clerking at the frame shop, and we compromised on forty dollars. Phil, she was really grateful. She wanted to pay more, and was willing to sacrifice for it. How could I let her do that?

"She also doesn't feel that she can do something like this while she's working. Can you call her, in the next few minutes, and arrange to get together with her? You can owe me the money. Or put it against that huge non-monetary amount I owe you."

I told her how much I loved her, and reminded her that I had the original artwork hanging on my wall, as a gift, and that that was priceless.

So I called Autumn, and she asked whether she could just come by right then. I told her where to come, and she said it was only a few minutes' walk and she'd be there right away. And indeed, I'd barely gotten back into what I was working on when she knocked at the door.

When she came in, she went immediately to look at the original, in the frame on the wall. I'd been planning to throw in a mailing tube for carrying it, but she had brought a folder of her own. She tried to give me sixty dollars, and I told her Sam had specified forty, and that I insisted on no more. She started talking about an agent's fee, and I said, "Autumn, you're not taking that copy away if you keep trying to get out of paying exactly what you agreed to." So she took it, and gave me and Ellen both big hugs, thanking us again. She said, "I'm going to go frame it right now, while the shop's still open. And even with the employee discount, the whole frame and everything will still cost more than the print. I can't thank you enough!"

I did call Sam to tell her it was done, and to say I'd be sending her a check. She was pretty excited at her first professional sale. She had occasionally made a little money playing piano, but she'd never been paid for artwork before.

Ellen and I finished getting ready for the first couple of days of classes of the week, and got dinner. We ate, talking about each other's homework and about Sam and Jenny. After we cleaned up, getting the leftovers frozen, we got ready and went to bed early.

Revision: 6/26/2019