Chicago Will Always Remind Me of You
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| Chicago 1974 |
If I was going to get my kids to actually be asleep by 9, it would take some work. Especially with Jeff, the non-sleeper and wanderer. Such a difficult child he was. Temperamental, downright mean to his brother, and defiant with me. He was the kind of child that you wished that sleeping pills were allowed to be given just so that everyone else could get some rest: no sugar, no cereal, no chips before bed. I thought I would try hot chocolate and then a nice long bath, for Jeff, not me. It was worth a try.
He had a habit of waking up and wandering around the apartment. One night he flushed a washcloth, a bar of soap, my wedding and engagement ring (which was fine with me), and a beautiful sapphire birthstone ring that my high school boyfriend Steve had given me down the commode. How did I know this? Because the next morning, the toilet was stopped up, and you could see part of the washcloth and soap. The rings had gone to sewer heaven. Another time about 6:30 am, one Saturday morning, someone was beating on my front door. I opened the door, and there was Jeff with a man and a woman. They said he was swinging in the playground. He had pushed a heavy armchair all the way across the room on carpeting to the door and removed the chain, and then pushed the chair back. I have no idea how long he had been outside. The most damage he did was on a Sunday morning before France was coming over. He had pulled everything that he liked out of the cabinets and refrigerator and ate what he wanted and smeared the rest on walls, the carpet everywhere. The melted ice cream made big frothy blobs on the floor, and he even had squirted toothpaste all over the walls. Red toothpaste. Yes, he was a bit of a problem. And he got worse with age.
I was hoping that the bath would relax him and calm him down. I put him and Glen in the tub for about an hour. Yes, they were sleepy, but so was I. At 8:30, I put them to bed and crossed my fingers. I checked on them, and they were both out, soundly, so I closed the door and prayed to the sex goddess of wanton woman that they would stay asleep.
At 9 pm, Daniel tapped on the door. I shushed him until we moved away from the hallway. He was all smiles, why yes, he was. He had a gallon of some kind of Sangria and my food. I eyeballed the wine with a little dismay. It had been my drink of choice in high school with disastrous results, and I had not drunk it since then. I asked him if he would mind going to 7-11 and getting some ice and some 7UP. I was hoping that I could drink wine coolers and keep them down.
He was only gone for about 10 minutes. We quietly took the ice and 7UP to the kitchen, and he made drinks while I ate. I sipped the drink. Hmmm, pretty dang good. I could do this. After I ate, I brushed my teeth and put some music on. Daniel was a big fan of Chicago, and he had brought a couple of albums with him.
We were drinking wine now, and I was getting relaxed. I wasn't sure if it was the wine or my eyes, but was he getting closer and closer to me? Oh yeah, he sure was. He was telling me cop stories, which I loved to hear. Not scary ones, funny ones. I thought he must be an extraordinary person to be able to deal with people, seeing them at their worst. There had been a killing of a 12-year-old boy recently by a cop in the back of a cop car. The cop basically imposed Russian Roulette on the boy, and he was killed. That cop had a name very similar to Daniel. First and last name and people on the street were always asking him why he shot that poor boy. That cop was arrested, charged with manslaughter, and served 5 years in prison. But people on the street thought they were the same person. He said that had caused him some problems.
More wine? Why, yes, I think I will. This was the first time we had ever been able to sit and leisurely talk to each other. We were not running out of conversation, which was good because he made me feel warm inside. Well, maybe it was just the wine. Things were going well, and then he said, "By the way, I forgot to ask you, do you know another cop named Karl?" I could feel my face burning, oh crap. "Yes, why do you ask?" He said that they had passed each other one night in the complex. They were at the same substation but usually worked different but overlapping shifts. According to Daniel, they asked each other what the other was doing there and gave the same answer. They both said they were watching out for me. Karl had told him about the geezer guy from work that had bothered me. And why didn't I tell him about that? I don't know. According to Daniel, they had both agreed to keep checking on me. Whew, glad that was over with.
Daniel told me to call him if anybody anywhere bothered me. Got it, Officer.
Wine, wine, and more wine. There shall be no wine before it's time. Now was the time. I was killing it. I think it was just because I was nervous, and it was making me feel pretty good. I know what you are waiting for. You want all of the details. You want me to tell you how he grabbed me and threw me on the floor. And handcuffed me to the legs of the coffee table. And you want me to tell you that he ripped my clothes off and took off all of his clothes except his boots, which he needed to ride me. And what about that big tattoo of a badge on his chest, how it pulsated like he was flashing it. And, oh, oh, oh, was that a siren? Whoo, a whooo NO. None of that happened. But it sounds good.
Truth is, we did trip the light bodtastic. But it was not kinky; it was different than anything I had experienced. Without going into all of the details, it was very nice, and the connection was perfect, spiritually. It was not just a quicky. It was sweet and meaningful, and I did not want to bite his head off. But I didn't want the cuddle and spoon thing. And at least he asked me if I was the type who liked it. And I said no, and he said that was good because he didn't like it either.
I was going to have to have some more of this wine before he left. It was a perfect wine. And it sealed our friendship for years. We had a "thing," but it wasn't love; I think it was just extreme like-a-lot. And that was all I really wanted. In police talk, he knew how to handle his call. What did you think I was going to say?
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