The Humper Game Pt. 05 Ch. 09

When we got home, I told her to get the first shower while I got breakfast. I was about done when she emerged, with her wet hair needing combing. She left it wrapped in a towel instead, though, and we ate. We ate quickly, talking about nothing much. She said, "Don't you dare clean up here! I'll get that while you get your shower." So I did that. She was still combing when I came out, but we had enough time, and in fact we were a little earlier than usual. I tried to do a little studying outside the room for my next class.

On the way, though, she said, "Phil, I've kept putting this off, because there hasn't been time. Last night, Martha came by while you were out. I think Scott was doing something with Hannah, but it turned out she really wanted to talk about you. I need to tell you about it, sometime soon when we have a little longer to talk. Nothing bad, I assure you. Not exactly just girl talk, but I think she was glad you weren't there."

While I was waiting for class, Pete and Tammy came up a few minutes before the bell. We moved a little farther from the open classroom door to greet each other. They asked how the meeting had gone, and I explained briefly. I thought they were a little startled at the no-sex part. But it turned out they had something else on their minds. Tammy said, "Phil, have you two made any plans for your honeymoon yet?"

I said about what I had said to Kelly—no, but that we weren't looking for fancy and definitely not for expensive, something where we could spend time together without having to do a lot of cooking, cleaning, and other tasks.

She said, "We figured that was likely, knowing you both. We have an idea, which might not work out, but we need to talk to you about it first. Can we talk to you, both of you, after your last class today?"

"I go over and study in the Psych lounge while Ellen's in her last class, and then we go home. If waiting for her is OK with you, I think so. If someone's using the lounge, we'll have to go elsewhere. Hasn't happened yet, though." I told them where it was.

"If we can wait with you, that would be great. We can study or talk about other things."

The bell had rung and the earlier class had exited while we were talking, so we went in for class. When it was over, we talked for just a minute about an issue that had been raised, then said goodbye and went our separate ways—they off to another class, I off to study for an hour, trying to feel more prepared for Philosophy of Mind at noon.

After my last class, I went over to the psych department and waited in their little lounge, making myself a cup of tea. A few minutes later, Pete and Tammy came in. We chatted briefly, then studied together for Professor Bailey's class. Toward the end of the hour, I washed my mug and we went to wait for Ellen as the bell rang.

I let Tammy explain that they had an idea they wanted to run by us. Ellen said, "Can we walk to our apartment while you tell us?" They agreed, and we headed out.

Tammy said, "You heard what Pete's Uncle Jim said, and he didn't waste much time telling our parents about our, um, relationship changes." She smiled and put her arm around Pete's waist for a quick squeeze, then went back to holding his hand. "We've already heard from Mamma Mia and Papa Tom, and from Mom and Dad too. They were all kind of excited and wanted details. We told them that we'd sit down with them all at break and tell them everything. We warned them that the problem we'd had was pretty personal and that they'd probably be happier not knowing, but I'm pretty sure that now that it's resolved they'll be OK with it. And we talked a little about you two, 'cause Uncle Jim had passed on what we'd said about that.

"And we had a thought. I wish we could make this a definite offer right now, but it really will have to wait until we see them. That's if you like the idea, and so we want to tell you now. Here it is.

"Pete's parents have a little, um, a little house in their back yard. I think it's what's called a mother-in-law apartment, and his grandmother lived there for a few years. Pete and I have stayed there, too, all last summer in fact. Anyway, if they're half as grateful to you two as we think they'll be—as we are and they ought to be!—what we'd like to do is suggest that you come and stay there for your honeymoon. They should be eager to meet you.

"Um. Ellen, Phil said you two really wanted a honeymoon that would be a chance for you just to relax together without any other responsibilities for a week or so, and something that wouldn't cost too much. I've assumed that you feel the same, he said you hadn't really discussed it. And this was my idea, but Pete likes it, too. You wouldn't get anything like maid service, someone changing your bed every day and all that, but we're thinking you could eat with them, at least dinners. If you wanted, we think they would provide groceries for breakfast and lunch, and there's a really small kitchen. As I say, we would need to check this all out with them. And you'd need to get yourselves out there." She told us the name of the town.

We had reached our apartment by this time, and we were all sitting in the living room area. Ellen looked at me and then said, "It sounds wonderful. We'll need to think about it, of course, and you need to discuss it with your families. But thank you."

I said, "One thing occurs to me about it. I'm afraid I don't know where all these places are. Is that at all close to—?" I gave the name of Jenny's home town, and told them why I asked.

They looked at each other, and after a moment Pete said, "It's not too far. Maybe an hour, off hand?" Tammy kind of nodded, and Pete went on, "You could probably get a better idea from Scott or Martha. That's where they live, and they've driven it a number of times. They spent their honeymoon in a resort in our town. That was the time Scott played with the band the first time."

"Depending on where Jenny is and what she's doing, we might be able to see her and meet her parents. And maybe even see Scott and Martha the same day. I really liked them."

Ellen said, "Well, we won't make any final decisions until after break at the earliest. You need to ask your folks, We still have to make the engagement formal, and that means meeting each other's parents and having the ring done. Or bought. We need to talk to Sam, soon. But honestly, thank you. For me, it sounds wonderful—I know I said that, but that would be perfect! Not quite nothing whatever to do except be with Phil, but close.

"One other thing that worries me a little is just, we're going to have to come up with some kind of summer jobs. I hope we can manage something that won't start until the end of June, or the last week anyway."

We just sat there for a couple of minutes. Then I said, "I didn't say it yet, but if your parents really are willing, and I mean not grudgingly because you ask them, I'd love it too.

"And we need to get up and fix dinner. This is the day Ellen insisted she was going to start making me do nothing but sit and answer questions, or maybe offer a suggestion now and then, and Tammy wanted to be in on it, too. Is that still OK? Pete, do you have what you need to study? I'm supposed to be studying as much as I can while they do all the work. And I'm going to need to."

That's what we did. Sort of. I'd gotten the groceries I'd expected to need, before Ellen had said anything about my not doing it. It was something I wouldn't normally have consulted a cookbook for, because I'd done it enough since we moved in, and I'd known just what to do the first time. So my first job would have to be dictating a recipe. Pete and I set up at one end of the kitchen table, trying to be out of the way, and I told both girls to grab something to write on.

"This is really basic, but Tammy and Ellen both raved over it, slightly different versions, and Tammy helped. You'll have to make notes as we go, but I'll tell you the basic steps first. You'll get water heating for cooking the rice, and you may as well measure out the rice too. The water doesn't need to heat fast, though. You'll need that large oven dish, not the really big casserole but the large one from that set I got, too.

"You'll cut up the meat and, oh, a couple of onions, or three if they're small, and the mushrooms. And chop a clove or two of garlic. Tammy liked it that time, and I'd tossed in a pepper, so let's do that again. I liked it too. And mix the sauce. You'll get all that in the oven at three-fifty.

"When it goes into the oven, you'll measure out hot water for the rice, add some salt, and get it boiling, then put the rice in and turn it down, cover it, and set the timer. This would work fine over noodles, too, by the way. And if you added some sour cream a little before serving, it would almost pass for stroganoff."

I told them what I put in the sauce. "It would be better, noticeably so, with beef broth instead of water, but mostly I haven't bothered. We should have a couple of cans, and you could open one of those if you like.

"A formal recipe probably would say to brown the meat in a skillet first, but I never bother, with something like this. I honestly can't taste the difference. If your meat is kind of fatty, you might do that as well as trimming, to cook off a little of the fat. I actually prefer it if the onions and mushrooms aren't sauteed first, but you can experiment if you want.

"And maybe about fifteen minutes before it's done, you can get a vegetable of your choice out of the freezer and cook it. Oh, and I thought we wouldn't make a tossed salad, just open a can of fruit. Probably better use two cans, and they may as well not be the same, but that's up to you two."

Pete and I started studying, and I knew Tammy was trying to listen to us as well as working on dinner. My attention was divided, too. Tammy asked about how thick to slice the beef, but between them they got the rest done without interrupting me much. Ellen knew that I heated the water in a teakettle, which she rinsed out and filled, and that for something like this I didn't turn it up high, waiting until it was in the saucepan to bring it to a full boil. She also knew how I cooked rice, and that I would probably cook the vegetable in the microwave, and how I would do that. Tammy did open a can of broth to go in the sauce. With the two of them, it was all cooking pretty soon, and the women started studying too. They both went over their notes, first, though. Tammy made sure she had details on a couple of the sauce ingredients.

When the timer went off for the rice, I told Tammy what Ellen already knew, that she needed to check it to make sure it was done and that there wasn't a lot of water left. Ellen had increased the quantity, and you never get the heat to precisely the same level, of course. She said the rice was done, but there was a little extra water in the bottom. I told her to stir the rice and let it cook uncovered for a couple of minutes. We all cleared our stuff into the living room, and Pete and I washed our hands and set the table.

After Tammy took her first bite, she said, "You're right about the broth. I thought that it was so good before that it couldn't make it much better, but it is. Mom, and Mamma Mia too, they'll both be really surprised when I make this for them. They wouldn't have brown rice on hand, and I saw your noodles are whole wheat too, but I really don't think that would be a problem. They know I'm not much of a cook, but I hope by summer I'll be a lot better. I know I can do this, now."

"Well, if you use white rice, you'll be doing the rice a lot later in the process. The amount of water should be about the same, but check the directions on the package, or a cookbook. If you do more, you don't need quite as much water in proportion, what gets lost in cooking is a little less. And people cook rice all kinds of different ways. I do it the way Grandmom taught me. No difference I can tell in the finished product."

"Sometime in the next two weeks, I'll try this myself, and add the sour cream and see how that is."

"If you really want it to pass for stroganoff, you probably need to omit the pepper. And you probably should add a little more flour to the sauce, to thicken it a little bit more, I'd guess. Grandmom did it with sour cream once in a while, but I don't remember about that for sure.

"And there's nothing to say you can't have the pepper in it if you like it that way, even with sour cream. It just won't pass for stroganoff. And whom are you trying to impress, anyway?"

We had cookies for dessert. Ellen had gotten some dough out to thaw early on, and stuck them in the oven after the dinner had come out, adjusting the temperature a little. I was going to start on the dishes, but Ellen told me firmly, "You just sit there. When I'm really doing most of the cooking, I promise I'll let you clean up—when you're around and have time! But until now, you've been doing almost all of it yourself." She and Tammy got the dishes done pretty quickly. I did sweep the kitchen.

When they left, Pete handed me some cash. "For the lesson, and a little more for the groceries. I saw how much the meat was, the rest is a guess," he said.

I looked at it. "We'll discuss some other time what's reasonable," I told him. "For the moment, though, thanks very much." They both hugged each of us, Tammy bigger hugs than Pete, but plainly both of them meant it.

Once they had gone, Ellen made us each a cup of herbal tea, and we sat at the table. She said, "We really should call Jenny and Sam about the wedding date, but there's no big hurry, and it's too late there. I should have done it last night, but I wanted you here, and anyway Martha came by.

"Here's what she had to say, more or less, in a nutshell. She sees you as being a lot like Scott. And it's obvious that she's totally in love with him, you know, and that didn't start with sex in their case.

"She mentioned what she saw of your tendency to grab more than your share of the work, and, frankly, more than your share of the blame for things, too. That came out when we told them about our big quarrel, and you're so intent on making sure everyone understands that I jumped to reasonable conclusions, and was still hurt from Brian. OK, it's true enough, but you aren't as quick to point out that you have hurts in your own past. I have no idea who originally hurt you so much with false accusations, or how, but I've seen how it hurt with Wilma, and with Sam, and with Jenny and now with me, and if we're making excuses to people that needs to be said, too.

"She said that she and Lynda both had to bear down on Scott on this." Ellen laughed. "In one way it's actually comical, and Martha remembers it that way. You know Scott contradances, even if he'd rather play the music, and he took them both. And they both liked it. But then Lynda signed all three of them up for ballroom dance lessons, and Scott tried to insist on paying for it all. And first, she pointed out a lot of things he was insisting on paying for already—for one, he was eating dinner with them a lot, at least two or three times a week, and he basically had taken over all the grocery shopping, paying for every bit of their food, and if they complained about it he just pooh-poohed it. But then, Lynda pointed out that she had asked him to explain the gospel to them, and he had stressed that salvation is a gift and you can't pay for it. And there he was insisting on trying to pay for absolutely everything. Apparently Lynda has a way with words when she gets mad about something.

"Although Martha said that on that occasion, Scott just agreed she was right—and started crying, more on that in a minute—and it took a bit for Lynda to, well, Martha said something like 'to get out of rant mode.' I hope that if this honeymoon suggestion works out, we get to meet Lynda. She actually kind of reminds me of Sam, by what Martha said about her. Anyway, Martha stepped in and said that they were happy enough to let him give them things, pay for things, whatever, sometimes, but that they weren't willing for it to be everything. He said again that they were right, and that he reserved the right to argue about particular things, and she said, 'As long as it's discuss, not dictate.' And ever since then, if they feel that Scott's demanding to do everything, they remind him, 'Discuss, don't dictate.' I'm going to have to remember that with you, but that part of it's not so much of a problem with you. You want to jump up and do all the work sometimes, and to pay for everything, but if someone says no and makes it clear she means it, you go along unless you really do have a reason, and then you at least discuss it." She took my hand and gave it a squeeze, and then kept holding it.

"The next thing came out in that same event. He fell apart. He does that, and what happened with you on Sunday afternoon looked a lot like the same thing, she said. She says that for Scott, nine-tenths of it is grief over the death of his first wife—that was going on twenty years earlier, at that time—and the grief was worse because he felt guilty about it and still does. They had had this big fight, and she went out to do something, crying, and a drunk driver ran a red light and hit her broadside. He knows there probably was nothing she could have done, no way she could have seen the guy coming, but he feels deep down that if she hadn't been torn up inside and crying, she would have been able to see the car coming and avoid being hit.

"She didn't know the significance, about you, of the next part of it that she said, but it was this. Scott thinks of anger as a major problem he has. He thinks he gets angry over something and can't let it go, whether or not it really matters. And she said, she worked for him for years and years, very closely for some of it, and they've been married for—well, Hannah is five, and they've had minor infertility problems, so she wasn't conceived for maybe a couple of years. And Martha said, she's never once seen him get mad like that. Never. She's sure he used to have a problem with it, before his first wife was killed.

"And I thought right off of you and Wilma, how you got burned by what you said, and just how courteous you always are as a result. And you still think about that.

"Anyway, anything that reminds him of Chris—that was her name—tends to make him fall apart. He loved her a lot, but there were a lot of things they weren't really together on, and sex was one of them. He needed a lot, and she really didn't care about it very much, and they fought about that. So when he took up with Martha and Lynda, those wounds got opened all the time, even though they both wanted him that way as much as he wanted them, maybe more in Lynda's case. Um. I think maybe deep down he felt guilty about Chris's not wanting him that much, and about fighting over it.

"Martha's big advice to me was not to let you bottle up your grief inside you. If you fall apart, be ready to help pick up the pieces, and make sure you know you can trust me to stay with you no matter what. I'd already figured that out, but she was helpful.

"I don't think it's transferable to us, but with Scott she made a point of, wherever they have pictures in their house of the two of them, there's one of Chris. Right there with one from their wedding, there's a picture of Chris in her wedding dress. It's not so conventionally and obviously a wedding dress, she said, which means she has to explain this to people. She says when the pictures catch Scott's attention some, he falls apart a little, but it doesn't last because it reminds him that Martha isn't the least bit jealous of what Chris was to him and still is. Or maybe it is transferable. If you think we need pictures of Sam and Jenny on our walls, besides Sam's drawings, you'd better know that I won't object at all. I won't insist or just do it, but if I can do anything to say I value them and what they've meant to you, you tell me and I'll do it.