Chapter 4 — Time of Reckoning
September 1973
Jim had learned over the years that there times when he would do things and have second thoughts afterward. When that happened he would think over what he should have done and faced up to the consequences of his own acts.
"Thunderpussy is sure mad at you," Rich told him as he slurped down a cup of coffee.
He stretched and the muscles in his shoulders pressed at his tee shirt.
"She came storming in to her apartment just as Chelsea and I were starting to relate to one another."
"I can't say that I'm surprised," Jim answered. "Maybe I can talk to her..."
"Don't bother," was all Rich would say.
Jim knew that he'd disappointed a lot of people. Rich was the obvious one, who had set up the whole encounter with Ashley. He had left with Chelsea thinking that he'd solved Jim's problem once and for all.
Of course Ashley was most disappointed of all. She'd had Jim in her sights and he, somehow, gave her the slip at the last moment. She had to accept that Jim would never be comparing his lovers to her for the rest of his life.
"Can't forget Chelsea."
Ashley's roommate and understudy had long been eager to slip between the sheets with Rich. But, Ashley was a very competitive person and always seemed to seize the moment before Chelsea could make her move. Chelsea must have thought that her big chance had finally arrived and then been snatched away from her.
The final person was himself. If he had carried through he would be making breakfast for Ashley that very moment. His problem would have been solved (and then some). He wouldn't be waiting for Rich to get back on his case for squandering his best opportunity to join the ranks of the initiated. After all, Ashley wasn't so bad—and he had stood a good chance at experiencing that tongue thing that Rich spoke about.
"Sorry I messed things up," Jim said before Rich could finish off his coffee. "I'm sorry about you and Chelsea, too."
"Don't be sorry about that," Rich replied with a big grin on his face. "After Ashley burst in she told us the whole story. Then, we had to console her."
"Console her? What do you mean by that?"
"You know," Rich said, "help her get her equilibrium back, get her straightened out. It took a lot of consoling. It turned out that she could only be consoled in the nude. Chelsea and I were already nude."
"I think I've got the picture," Jim said. "So, it was Rich Garland to the rescue."
"It's not how I planned it," Rich went on, "but sometimes a man's got to adapt, and I know just how to do that when things need to get done."
"Well, it looks like everyone's getting laid but me," Jim sighed.
"It's your problem now," Rich answered. "I tried my best. You're going to have to work it out for yourself. In the meantime, I didn't get any sleep last night, so I need you to make me another pot of coffee."
"Then, you're not mad?" Jim asked as Rich marched down the hallway toward the bathroom.
"No, not really," he answered over his shoulder. "I think I pushed too hard. My way might have worked, but it didn't. You need to work things out for yourself your own way."
Jim dumped out the old grounds and spooned some new ones in the percolator.
"So, I was right after all."
He plugged in the coffee pot and then raised his arms to stretch. He reached for the ceiling—he reached hard. Perhaps it was something beyond the ceiling. It was difficult to tell. He put his arms down and his body felt relaxed and comfortable. A stretch of the body or soul was always good for a person's own comfort, inside or out.
Rich came out of the bathroom and made his way to the coffee that was just finishing and poured some into his cup. He was blowing away the steam rising from the surface, sipping in some the hot liquid.
"I'm going to invite Hildy to come down for the Colgate game," Jim announced.
"Sounds fine to me," Rich replied. "Are you going to take her to the fraternity party, too?"
"I think so, at least for a little while."
"Up to you," Rich said. "I don't know if that's what I would do."
Jim understood what Rich meant. Post-game parties at the frat lodge were for young men trying to make time with cute sorority girls, rock bands with oversized speakers and cute sorority girls competing with each other. The parties didn't attract many receptionists and fifth year students.
"I see what you mean," Jim said. "It wouldn't look right to go to the game and then skip out on the party."
"What do you care what it looks like?" Rich answered. "The younger guys would be worried about what things look like to you, if there was any justice in this world."
So often, Rich had the answers.
"But, there is seldom justice," Jim said. "I'll keep up my end and worry about the rest later."
Rich nodded and bent down over his coffee. Jim knew that soon he would be sprawled across the couch catching on his lost sleep from the night before. It was the Sunday before Labor Day. Classes would be starting in two days. Jim decided to go to the campus bookstore and hunt for his textbooks. He began thinking about his first class, Advanced Thermodynamics. He had an idea for his Final project, too and would stop in to see his advisor after class.
As he was driving down the hill toward the campus he thought about what he would plan for Hildy's visit. It would be important to get things just right. The thought crept into his brain that she might not come.
"We'll put it to the test."
If not, perhaps reconciliation with Ashley would be in order. He knew how she would make it hard for him, but in the end she would give in. They didn't call her Thunderpussy for nothing, and what was the use of having a nickname like that if you didn't trade on it? Perhaps the aborted coupling would make Ashley twice as eager to please. And, maybe he would get in on that tongue thing after all.
As he stopped at a light he chased the thought away.
"I'm pretty sure that Hildy will come."
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Hildy was late—by just a little. Jim began pacing, just the same.
"Maybe she got lost trying to find the place."
"Would you relax?" Rich scolded. "She's only fifteen minutes late. And, if she can get on the right road, that Rustmobile of yours out in the driveway is sure to guide her in.
"I suppose," Jim said, "but I hate to think of spending all of yesterday cleaning up the apartment and then getting stood up."
"It was two hours," Rich corrected, "and the place needed it. I was beginning to think the Health Department might condemn us. Now, stop pacing. You're making me nervous."
Rich was waiting for Hildy to arrive. After saying 'hello' and a few minutes for pleasantries he intended to disappear and leave the apartment to Jim and his date. He planned to go the game, of course, and had a pair of tickets but no date, so he had some work to do.
"Hello, anyone home?"
It was Hildy. She bounded down the terrace steps outside the apartment.
"In here, Hildy," Jim yelled back as he was scrambling for the door.
He hadn't seen her for over three weeks. He knew he was being silly, of course, but wondered if she looked the same as she had when he saw her in August.
