MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER EIGHTY SEVEN:

PREJUDICE

Written by Rick Archer 

LIMBO MONTH EIGHTEEN
DECEMBER 1980

EMILY IS SICK

 

Have you ever heard of Aggie jokes?  My high school classmates loved to put down anyone who went to Texas A&M.  Not a week went by without overhearing the latest joke.  Some of the jokes were clever.

"A short runt guy runs into a bar.  He gets up on a stool and says in a loud voice, "Hey, Bartender, Bud Lite and make it snappy!!"

The bartender is taken aback by the little guy's rudeness, but serves him anyway.  He turns cold when the little guy says, "Hey, buddy, I just heard a great Aggie joke. You wanna hear it??"

The bartender tenses up.  He finishes filling the glass, then places it on the counter with great emphasis.  Some of the beer spills out.  Feeling touchy, the bartender snarls at the runt.

"Look, Mister, before you tell that joke, I gotta tell you something.  I went to A&M and so did my brother.  He's the bouncer, yeah, that big guy over there.  We both played football, met some great people and really liked the place.  And the manager, that guy in the office over there, he also went to A&M.  Now, think about it, do you still want to tell that Aggie joke??"

The runt frowns, grimaces, scratches his head, then checks his watch. 

"Nah, I better not.  I don't have time to explain it to all three of you!!"
..............

However most of the jokes were downright cruel.

"What do they do with Aggie freshmen who commit suicide?  They bury them with their butts up and use them for bike racks."
...............

Need I say more?  Pertinent to my meditation on Prejudice, it was more than slightly embarrassing to have Texas A&M repeatedly come to my rescue.  Having grown up with the understanding that A&M was where the most ignorant people in the state of Texas gathered, I found it disconcerting to realize I owed much of my dance success to a place that I had long held in great disrespect.

December had long been my least favorite month of the year.  Unfortunately that tradition continued into 1980.  One morning I noticed my dog Emily was rubbing her backside on the concrete sidewalk.  I was alarmed to see a bloody smear.  Lifting her tail, I discovered a large fatty tumor the size of a lemon.  The tumor was hidden beneath her bushy tail which explains how it had grown this large without my notice.  This was not good.  Since I loved Emily with all my heart, I was sick in my stomach with fear.  It looked like my wonderful border collie was in big trouble.

I took Emily to my usual vet.  He shook his head.  Although the tumor was not cancerous, it was located in such a sensitive area that the tumor was inoperable.  Since Emily was facing death if it got any larger, the doctor suggested I put her to sleep right on the spot.  Seeing the appalled look on my face, the doctor quickly added the suffering would begin soon.  I burst into tears and refused.  To my surprise, the doctor decided to insist. 

"Your dog has no chance whatsoever!  You will cause your dog to suffer, so I highly recommend you change your mind and do the right thing." 

Emily was not in pain.  In addition, she had an appetite.  I decided to let Emily live a little bit longer, so I stood up to the doctor and took her home with me.  Filled with tears, I called my mother to share Emily's plight.  Mom was sympathetic and said she would call Dr. Marks, a veterinarian friend she had once worked for.  The next day Mom called to give me the phone number of Dr. Charles Johnson, a young A&M-trained vet.  She added that her friend Dr. Marks thought very highly of this man. 

My first reaction was to flinch.  Spending my early years at a prestigious college prep school, I had been taught by my classmates to view Texas A&M with nothing but contempt.  The mere mention of 'Texas A&M' caused an involuntary, knee-jerk revulsion.  Fortunately, I got a grip.  I dismissed my reaction as absurd and made an appointment.

Despite my deep prejudice, I took Emily to see the A&M doctor.  As Dr. Johnson inspected Emily, he confirmed the first doctor had been correct.  Operating on that bulging tumor was not a good idea.  However, Dr. Johnson suggested there might be another option.  Dr. Johnson had heard of an experimental treatment being tested up at College Station in their vet school. They used radioactive cobalt treatments to shrink tumors in dogs.  However, there was a problem.  They preferred not to experiment on dogs who were pets.  Why, I asked.  Because not every result was successful.  It got messy dealing with the grief of upset pet owners when things did not work out. 

I nodded.  I could definitely relate.  Speaking of grief, I had huge tears streaming down my face.  Seeing my concern, Dr. Johnson was very touched.  He offered to put in a call to a colleague up at A&M.  Maybe he could change their mind about taking pets.  I suppose my copious crocodile tears had something to do with his kind offer to intercede.  Brushing back the tears, I said I would be very grateful if he would check.

Dr. Johnson's extra effort worked.  He went out of his way to persuade his colleague to accept my dog into the program.  Later that week I drove up to College Station, home of Texas A&M.  I had never been here before.  Given my negative preconceptions, I was surprised to see the place was modern and spacious.  What a lovely campus!  As I walked with Emily, I was surrounded by hundreds of clean-cut, attractive students.  These students did not remotely fit the 'moron' description associated with the negative Aggie stereotype I had grown up with.

A lovely young lady, 20, saw Emily walking beside me.  When Emily wagged her tail in greeting, the young lady smiled.  She immediately came over and asked if she could pet my dog.  Of course.  She made the biggest fuss over Emily which immediately brought new tears to my eyes.  I was fighting a losing battle to stay under control.  The young woman noticed my tears and smiled sympathetically.  Not only did she guess my reason for being here with my dog, she could also see that I was lost.  Without even being asked, the young lady offered to take me over to the College of Veterinary Medicine.   

I was very touched by her gesture.  I was also ashamed of myself.  Obviously these 'Aggie' people weren't so terrible after all.  I could see with my own eyes the students on this campus did not resemble my bigoted image of 'stupid, clumsy, ill-mannered country bumpkins'.  Instead, they were exactly the sort of people I would want to be associated with - alert, intelligent, outgoing, considerate.  The people at the clinic were equally kind.  They were cut out of the same mold as the pretty girl.  I could not help but note these 'Aggies' were much nicer than some of the smug city slickers I knew back in Houston.  

I reluctantly left my frightened dog at the clinic, then cried myself silly all the way back to Houston an hour away.  I could not believe I was abandoning my poor dog like that.  Knowing Emily had to be so scared, I hated that I could not be there to comfort her.  I also knew I would probably never see her again.  What on earth was I doing?!  I should be comforting Emily, not leaving her alone like that.  I hated myself for leaving her there, but what choice did I have?  This experimental treatment was Emily's only chance. 

One week later I got a phone call from Dr. Johnson.  I steeled myself for the bad news.  To my immeasurable relief, he said that Emily was doing just fine.  The tumor was completely gone, dried up by the cobalt treatment.  I was incredulous, but delighted as well.  He said I could come get her.  The next day I drove back to A&M.  Emily immediately began to wag her tail when she saw me.  She was overjoyed to see me!  When I lifted her tail, I could scarcely believe my eyes.  The tumor was gone.  I already knew Emily was cured because Dr. Johnson had told me, but seeing is believing.  Overwhelmed to see Emily well again, I totally lost control.  Hugging my dog, I cried buckets and didn't care who saw me.  I cried so hard the floor needed a mop.  The nearby attendant rolled his eyes at my tear-filled joy, but smiled anyway.  He completely understood.  I was so happy to see my sweet little dog had been saved.  These people were my heroes.  Charging me all of $80 to save my dog's life, I could scarcely believe what an amazing kindness they had provided. 

Needless to say, my trip to A&M was a real eye-opener.  On my ride home, every time I looked at Emily sleeping comfortably on the seat next to me, I had good reason to think how wrong I had been about Texas A&M.  Thanks to this school and this knowledgeable Aggie veterinarian, Emily would live six more years.  That's 42 human years according to the theory.  One doctor was so closed-minded, he had no interest in making inquiries about further advances.  Meanwhile, a doctor trained at an institution I had been told was inferior had saved my dog. 

Now that I could see my prejudice had no basis in fact, I was ashamed for the negative attitude I had carried around all these years.  By adopting the attitude of my high school classmates, I had allowed this prejudice to continue unchallenged deep into adulthood.  Now thanks to the training of Dr. Johnson and his big heart, I had been given a powerful first-hand lesson that not all things 'Country' are bad.  

DECEMBER 1980

FORCED TO EXAMINE MY PREJUDICE

 

For the second month in a row, I had been handed an experience that directly contradicted a strongly-held belief.  First Texas A&M received credit for solving the Riddle of the Double Turn.  Now Emily's recovery had given me powerful evidence that people with an A&M education deserved Respect.  Having fallen prey to the prevalent state-wide scorn towards A&M, I felt ashamed of myself.  Instantly regretting every dumb Aggie joke I had ever told, I felt guilty for allowing my prejudice to go unchecked for so long.  That is when it dawned on me that Dr. Johnson was literally the first person I had ever met that I knew was an A&M graduate.  It crossed my mind that maybe I had accidentally told an Aggie joke to an Aggie.  I shuddered at the thought.  Surely I knew someone else who went to A&M, but who? 

When I got back to Houston, I called my friend Bob to tell him the good news about Emily.  While I was at it, I decided to ask him a question.  "Bob, do you know anybody who graduated from Texas A&M?"

"Yes, my boss is an Aggie.  A&M has the best petroleum engineering program in the state."

"Anybody else?"

Bob laughed.  "There are a couple people here at work I suspect, but I am not sure.  Why do you ask?"

"I know lots of UT graduates, but no Aggies.  Where are they?  Who are they?"

"My boss and I had a chat about that one day.  He said that A&M graduates are fed up with the unwarranted hostility.  For that reason they have gotten in the habit of keeping their background to themselves.  Herb told me that Jewish people do the same thing for the same reason.  My guess is the Aggies are hiding in plain sight.  They prefer to keep quiet about it."

After I got off the phone, I went into a trance.  I thought about my gay friend Mark.  I met him at work 5 years ago.  Mark was my best friend for six months in 1974 until he moved away to be with his new boyfriend.  During one of our long talks, Mark explained how he made it through high school and college without anyone knowing he was gay.  Considering Mark turned out to be one of the nicest people I ever met, my earlier prejudice against gay people had been erased.  This was not to say all gay people are wonderful.  After all, I was molested three times as a boy.  I was also aggressively propositioned eight times in college.  What I learned from spending time with Mark was to look past a person's sexual preference and see their heart instead.

Despite my friendship with Mark, I had serious reservations about being alone with Glen, my dance instructor.  It was one thing to be separated by a desk with Mark, another thing entirely to have an attractive man in my arms.  My fears were needless.  Not only did Glen save my career with his invitation to move to his studio, he turned into a good friend. 

To some extent, I had similar misgivings about Jewish people.  In high school, my worst nemesis was a rich Jewish boy who made fun of me for wearing inferior clothes.  He had me pegged as a loner who did not know how to fight back verbally, so I was a frequent target anytime he needed to feel superior.  On the other hand, after I was tossed from graduate school, a group of older Jewish gentlemen I played volleyball with more or less adopted me.  Treating me like a son, their warmth and compliments were a healing balm to my wounded soul.  This was yet another reason to look past the stereotype.  My time spent with these men at the Jewish Community Center was so positive that it dispelled any lingering prejudice. 

During the summer in 1972 I got a job picking up litter in city parks here in Houston.  This was a rather humble job considering I was a hot-shot college kid.  However, I had time to kill till college resumed in the fall.  Every day I drove around in a truck with five black Vietnam vets.  They were just as curious about me as I was about them.  These guys had just come back from the most horrible experience of their lives.  In their midst was this privileged white kid with the big vocabulary.  Was I prejudiced towards them?  No.  But a couple of them were prejudiced against me.  Nor did I blame them.  For the first time in my life I was not the underdog, I was the lucky one.  One day Reggie decided to mess with me.  We were in the truck.  I was in front, he was in back.  Reggie decided my long hair needed an Afro, so he began to comb my hair with his pick.  I told him to knock it off, but he didn't listen.  So I grabbed the pick and threw it out the window.  Next thing I know, he had me in a headlock.  The other men in back pulled him off, but the tension remained.  Stopping at the next city park, Reggie and I squared off.  Did we fight?  No.  I apologized and stuck out my hand.  I told Reggie I would rather be friends.  To my surprise, he said okay. 

By the end of the summer I was one of the gang.  What happened?  Two things.  That summer I got quite an education on how African-American men are treated in modern-day America.  As we drove around, I listened as they described their experience with Vietnam and racial prejudice.  One day a man named Walter questioned my sincerity.  I asked what could I do to prove myself.   Walter said if I was serious, then go see a movie titled The Liberation of L.B. Jones.  The movie was about the ruthless assassination of an innocent black man by two white cops.  I was the only white person in a ghetto theater with at least 100 blacks.  No one said a word to me, but the hostile looks spoke volumes about the bitterness caused by two centuries of oppression.  Maybe not the wisest movie to see, but my comrades were very impressed by my gesture.  And what was the other reason for harmony?  After we finished picking up all the litter, we played basketball at the city park.  I am pleased to say I held my own.  Surprised to discover the white boy could play, the color of my skin no longer mattered. 

Now thanks to Dr. Johnson, the A&M veterinarian, I was forced to reexamine my long-held beliefs about Aggies.  Obviously I had been completely wrong to disrespect them.  I also became aware of my tendency to blindly adopt the viewpoints of my peer group.  I had formed an opinion about A&M and Aggies based solely on the ignorance of my classmates.  Even worse, I had not bothered to challenge what my classmates told me to believe when I was old enough to know better.  As Socrates said, the unexamined life is not worth living.

Emily's tumor had revealed an area where I had a giant blind spot.  I was ashamed of my misguided attitude towards Texas A&M.  If anyone should be called an 'ignorant moron', that would be me.  I was the ignorant one who had never bothered to challenge my misguided attitude until poor Emily got sick.  As painful as this A&M incident had been, it definitely helped shed my prejudice.  It also led to a valuable insight.  I recognized there are many things I believe simply because someone told me to believe them.  I wish it was not true, but I was forced to admit that sometimes I get things turned around.   

Another target for my misguided contempt was the Country-Western culture.  My closed-minded attitude towards hicks, rubes, rednecks, Gilley's, et al, was a by-product of the same anti-country bigotry instilled by my high school peer group.  Truthfully, not one country person had ever been mean to me.  My disrespect of Country folk and their values was based totally on an uninformed prejudice acquired as a teenager, then left unchallenged as a young adult.  Not my proudest moment.

I would like to add one more thought, something I wish to share from my writer's age of 70-plus years.  Whenever someone mentions 'Texas A&M', the first thing I do is frown.   Despite my 'enlightenment', I can't help myself, it is automatic.  Although I always remind myself why my negative thought is wrong, it irks me no end that I am unable to permanently erase my unwelcome thoughts.

I grew up thinking I was ugly due to serious acne scars.  To this day, I cannot look in a mirror without being repulsed.  I have to shave without my glasses in order to be anywhere near a mirror.  I remind myself many people have told me I am a nice-looking guy.  Maybe so, but that is NOT what I see in the mirror. 

What I am saying is that once an idea takes root, you can never get rid of it completely.  

You can only modify its effects.  A scary thought indeed. 

DECEMBER 1980

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
 

For those who say December is the cruelest month, no argument from me.   During this period of intense self-examination brought on by Emily's tumor problem, I was alone.  When I returned to Houston in mid-December with Emily, the Western Swing Committee decided to postpone inventing more patterns till the start of the New Year.  Even Bob, my partner in crime, admitted he had places to be and people to see as Christmas approached.  Technically I had a girlfriend to keep me company, but she was long gone at the moment.  While Stephanie stayed with her father, Victoria left town to be with her parents for comfort.  Victoria was so preoccupied with her pending divorce that I had been little better than an afterthought most of the year.  Sick and tired of Victoria's captivity, I was in a Blue Christmas kind of mood.  At a time when students and friends turned to families and loved ones to celebrate the holidays, I had anticipated two weeks of solitude. 

Classes were suspended for the final two weeks.  I suppose I could have gone to the Western clubs and run into some of my friends, but I didn't trust myself to be alone, not with Ammonia on the prowl.  Ammonia was a forest fire waiting to happen and I didn't have a fire extinguisher.  Running low on will power, I decided resisting Ammonia was more challenge than I could handle in my lonely state.  So I avoided the clubs.  Limbo Captivity couldn't last forever, now could it?  Or maybe it could.  Dating back to July 1979 when my problems with Victoria began, it had been eighteen months since the onset.  There was still no end in sight. 

One day out of the blue, I heard a voice from the past.   Five days before Christmas, I returned home from walking Emily and Sissy to find a message on my answering machine.  The moment I recognized Jennifer's voice, I stopping breathing.  I had not heard from her since New Year's Day.  Jennifer's message said she was in town for a business conference and would be at élan tonight.  Maybe I would like to stop by, say 9 pm or so.  There was no return number, so I was left to ponder.  I was very curious to know what had become of Jennifer.  From the message, it seemed that she must still free.  If that was the case, was there still a chance?  My spirits lifted considerably.  Indeed, my poor little heart started beating so hard it almost jumped from my rib cage.

That night I drove to élan, one of the few clubs remaining that still played Disco music.  I spotted Jennifer sitting alone watching people dance.  She rushed over to greet me with a big hug.  I asked Jennifer how she got in.  This was, after all, a private membership club.

Jennifer grinned and reminded me of the time she had been given a complimentary 'Honey Card' just like Victoria and Patricia.  Jennifer had been at my side one night when a desk person pulled her aside to offer a free membership.  I was so mad I bitched about it all night long.  Jennifer knew how much it irritated me that élan regularly handed out free memberships to pretty girls.  elan stocked the pond with beautiful women for the fishing pleasure of the rich businessmen who inhabited the place.  Meanwhile I had to pay full price.  If it meant a free membership, Jennifer had no objection to being a rich man's bait.  Just to rub it in, she asked if the membership fee was still $450 a year.  Or has it gone up?  I smiled in spite of myself.

Jennifer changed the subject.  "Let's dance!"  We went straight to the floor and put on quite a show.  Jennifer hadn't lost a step.  When we returned to our seats, Jennifer told me she could not believe how much I had improved since... and then she fell silent. 

Yes, it had been a full year since Jennifer had told me she would not go skiing with me.  That was the moment I had known something was seriously wrong.  She left town soon after.  I picked up her hand.  No ring.  I asked Jennifer why she wasn't married yet.

"Oh Rick, do we have to talk about that?  Can't we just have fun tonight?"

Yes, of course.  We danced on and off for nearly two hours  Jennifer beamed the entire time.  In particular, she liked the applause.  For a shy girl, Jennifer discovered showing off could be a lot of fun.  We made a striking couple.  Oh, how I missed this girl.  We left at 11 pm. 

When we reached her car, I kissed Jennifer and she kissed me back.

Jennifer smiled, "You don't happen to know where a lady could find a place to stay this late at night, do you?  I'm not picky.  Since it's Christmas, any good hayloft would work just fine."

I most certainly did know a place.  That night we had a wonderful reunion.  I don't recall getting much sleep.  The next morning, Jennifer challenged me to a game of backgammon.  Playing in bed, as usual, she promptly began beating me.  It wasn't difficult... Jennifer cheated!  She played naked.

After three straight losses, I decided it was time.  I threw her a pillow and told her to cover up.  It was impossible to concentrate otherwise.  "Okay, Jennifer, what's the story?"

Soft tears instantly filled her eyes. 

"Oh, Rick, I miss you so much.  I think about you all the time.  A year has passed and I still don't know if I made the right move.  Deep down I think you are too dangerous for me.  When I first met you, I was immediately attracted because you lead such a fascinating and unusual life.  But once I got a closer look, I began to worry about how well I would fit into your strange dance career.  I was terrified on so many levels."

Jennifer paused for a moment to wipe some of the tears away.

"I was worried that maybe you were just a little too flashy for a quiet girl like me.  After all, I am nowhere near the extrovert that Victoria is.  I get nervous around a lot of people.

Another thing I worried about was how insecure I always felt with all those beautiful women hanging around you.  If it wasn't Victoria, who would be next?  Even without Victoria in the picture, I had reservations whether I was the right girl for you.  I was fearful that you were out of my league."

"Well, Jen, you are right to be concerned.  Those are issues that would have to be addressed.  The problem was that we never had those kind of talks after Victoria's U-Turn.  You wouldn't let me get close enough.  This is first time I have ever heard you bring these fears to the forefront.  Think about it.  Last year, you kept me at arm's length and never gave me another chance once Michael moved out.  If we were to have a normal relationship, you would learn to trust me again."

Jennifer listened wordlessly.  Seeing she preferred not to respond, I continued.   

"Listen to me.  If you are not married, there is still time for us.  A year has passed and Victoria's grip on me is paper thin.  I think if I asked for my freedom at this point, Victoria would have no choice but to grant it.  Not only is she about to get a divorce, she doesn't pay a bit of attention to me.  Please don't let your issues with Victoria ruin our chance at happiness."

"Rick, I was so hurt.  I was hurt beyond any way I can ever explain.  I still can't believe you chose that witch over me."

Oh no, here we go again.  My memory was quite different.  I recalled Jennifer's crisis of confidence.  "Go to Victoria.  She needs you..."  The scars from those infamous words were etched permanently on the walls of my mind.  However, this was water under the bridge.  I didn't see any point in rehashing it now.  What mattered more was persuading Jennifer to try again.

"Jennifer, for the umpteenth time, that thing with Victoria was an aberration.  Back then she had a legitimate blackmail threat.  Those days are over.  Victoria has very little to do with the studio.  I could walk away from her this minute.  You worry about Victoria and all those beautiful women, well, I have news for you.  With the exception of last night, I have stayed faithful to Victoria since last October.  I don't do it because of blackmail, I do it out of loyalty to a friend.  If I can be faithful to a crazy fool like Victoria, I would have no trouble being faithful to you."

Jennifer was as white as the sheet that covered her.  "I don't see how I would fit into your world.  I work days, you work nights.  What kind of family situation would that lead to?"

"Not every family has to be Ozzie and Harriett.  There are lots of people who work night shifts.  I am sure they find ways to have children and a successful relationship.  Trust me, you would fit into the studio just fine and so would our children.  For example, look how we clicked on the dance floor last night.  You say you are too quiet, well, that's nonsense.  You were the star of the entire club.  You knew people were watching and didn't mind a bit.  In my book, I would be proud to have you stand next to me for the rest of my life."

I paused for a moment to gulp, then continued.  "Please tell me if there is any hope for us."

Jennifer immediately buried her face in a pillow.  When she returned, her expression was not good.

"Oh, please don't ask me that!  I can't take it.  I can't bear to open myself up to that kind of pain again.  I am convinced that Victoria would sabotage any chance we ever had of happiness.  Victoria would rip me in half with accusations and lies."

I took a long breath and let it back out slowly.  Why was this woman always so stubborn?  I decided to shift gears.  "So what's the story on Jeff?  Are you still engaged?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes.  "Oh, yeah, him."  With that, Jennifer grabbed another nearby pillow for extra security. 

"You are going to laugh at me, but yes, we're still engaged.  My life seems headed in his direction whether I like it or not.  I am slowly oozing my way to the altar, but it feels more like heading towards a cliff.  If I had a choice, I would stay engaged for the rest of my life and come see you whenever I can't take it anymore.  At the pace we are going, I may be in a rocking chair before I get a ring." 

I noticed that Jennifer smiled wanly at her small joke.  Jennifer was not happy, not happy at all.  This was maddening because she had been happy with me last night.  I marveled at the coincidence that had kept us both in Limbo for an entire year.  At this exact moment, we were both relatively unattached.  Good grief, we were free to resume our once-torrid relationship.  All we had to do was ask Victoria and Jeff to forgive us, but we loved someone else far too much to stick around.  Why couldn't Jennifer see this?  What was wrong with her?  Or what was wrong with me?  Was there something about me Jennifer would not dream of revealing?

"Heading for a cliff?  C'mon, now, why would you do that to yourself, Jennifer?  Why would you ditch me for a guy who seems like a distant second best?  Why would you make love to me last night knowing full well you are here because you don't really care about Jeff?  Most of all, why would you settle for a guy you have avoided marrying for over two years?  Why won't you give me another chance?"

As a look of pain wrinkled her face, I could see my words got to her.  Unable to respond, huge tears streamed down.  Clearly Jennifer still had feelings for me.  I had not planned on this, but I was certain this was my last chance to persuade this beautiful, talented woman to be mine.  It was a long shot, but I had to try.  I decided to lay everything on the line.

"Jennifer, it is obvious to me that you have kept Jeff on hold for a reason.  I believe I am that reason.  Now listen carefully.  Like I said, Victoria is getting a divorce.  She barely knows I exist.  Our relationship is a sham.  The only reason I remain her boyfriend is that I have no good reason NOT to be her boyfriend.  I am willing to break up with her today if you will commit to me."

"Aren't you afraid of Victoria's blackmail any more?  Wouldn't she threaten to hurt your studio again?"

"Things have changed a lot in a year.  What exactly would Victoria do?  She can't hurt me.  She can't hurt the studio.  The current set of Western students don't know a thing and could care less if they found out.  Victoria does not have a current mailing list any more.  She doesn't have a Circle of Friends nor does she have a loyal following to turn against me.  Victoria is powerless to stop me from leaving her.  You have my word.

If she were to make a public threat, it would backfire and make her look ridiculous.  Even scarier, it would jeopardize her chances at a fair settlement in the upcoming divorce.  Trust me, Victoria won't give us trouble, not in the predicament she's in.  Seriously, all Victoria ever talks about in public is how wonderful Michael is.  If she starts slamming me over something that happened long ago, she would look like an idiot.  That time is so far in the past, I don't think she would even put up a fight.  Victoria is a shell of her former self.  She is consumed with guilt, indecision, and fear of what will happen when Michael is gone for good.  Victoria can threaten me all she wants, but I do not fear retribution."

"Jennifer, if you are afraid of moving too fast, then we don't have to make a bold move.  Let's try something more conservative.  Stay in Dallas, keep your job.  I can break up with Victoria to show you I am serious and then you and I can see each other on weekends.  If we start slowly, I am certain we can rekindle what we had.  We certainly didn't have any trouble lighting the fire last night.  But if it doesn't work, at least we tried!  What is stopping you?  For crying out loud, take a chance!  I know this will work!" 

"Please don't say that.  I don't know if that is such a good idea.  Right now my heart is full of anguish.  I just can't handle so much uncertainty.  I may come back and see you again, but now that I am settled into my new job in my new city, what you ask is just too great a risk to take.  I may change my mind, but right now I am terrified.  One part of me says it will never work."

I stared long and hard at Jennifer.  I could not imagine what prevented her from accepting my offer.  Good lord, I just said I would marry her.  In the movies, doesn't that always work?   But not with Jennifer.  Since her reluctance made no sense, perhaps there was something she wasn't telling me.  No doubt the scars from the U-Turn still haunted her.  However, those scars should have healed by now.  A sense of futility began to come over me.  I decided it did no good to push harder.  At some point, Jennifer had to meet her halfway.  Perhaps if I gave her a chance to think it over, maybe she would change her mind.  Jennifer had my phone number. 

Despite Jennifer's unending crescendo of tears, I took her in my arms and somehow we made love.  We cried the entire time.  She even cried while she put her clothes on.  I really didn't know what to say, so I just watched silently. 

One last kiss and Jennifer was gone... Forever.