Tales From The Quarry

Chapter Two - Marcy

I hated being poor. Hated it, hated it, hated it. We never had a lot of money, but when my father got hurt we were down to almost nothing. It was all my mother could do to pay the rent and feed us. We hardly ever got to see her anymore because she was working so much. My brother Chuck was trying to make money all the time, but he'd just earn a dollar here and there by washing cars and things like that.

My father was always in pain and couldn't do much more than boss us around. That's not fair for me to say. He wasn't really bossing us around, just always having us do things he couldn't do for himself anymore. He was really trying to find himself a job that didn't require physical work, but he had a limited education. I don't know if that would have done any good anyhow. He couldn't stay in any single position for long. He'd lay down until it hurt, then stand up until it hurt again. He couldn't even sit down very long.

He didn't complain at all, but we could see the pain in his face when it got bad. I couldn't understand why they wouldn't go on assistance. They weren't lazy people, not freeloaders, but they were afraid of being labeled that way.

Chuck and I took care of Dad the best we could, and Mom worked one full time and two part time jobs. She just didn't earn much at any of them, so we were officially poor.

It was bad enough during the summer. Our friends always had a dollar for an ice cream or a soda, but we had nothing. Chuck gave Mom every penny he earned and we spent the entire summer without so much as a nickel of our own. We each had friends who would treat us to a coke or something once in a while, but we started avoiding them so they wouldn't have to.

I was fifteen and Chuck was fourteen. We had to start school that year with the same clothes that we'd worn last year. My aunt had adjusted some of my dresses to make them fit a while longer, but it was still embarrassing. Chuck was lucky he hadn't grown much over the summer. His pants were a little short, but everything else fit okay. They were just old. The only new things we got were shoes, underwear and socks.

When my mother went to give us lunch money for the first day of school all she had was a dollar. She said she'd make us lunches for the next day, but didn't get home until two AM the night before and had forgotten all about it.

It was Chuck's first day of high school. When we were walking there in the morning I could tell he was scared stiff. He was acting like he was headed towards his doom rather than to school.

"What's wrong, Chucky?"

"Nobody's gonna like me. I just know it."

"Why you talkin' like that? Your friends'll all be there."

He was quiet for a while. "They all have new clothes."

"I know. Believe me, I know. The girls'll have makeup, too. We can't help bein' poor, Chucky. It's not our fault, so just hold your head up and learn everythin' you can. That's the way out of this. We can both do it."

"It just pisses me off. Why's everythin' gotta go wrong in our family? Why can't we just be normal?"

I stopped for a second and faced him, putting a hand on each of his shoulders. It was like looking into a distorted mirror. I was a girl and he was a boy, but we had the same face. It looked better on Chuck than me, but he wasn't happy right then and it made me feel bad. I wasn't dealing well with our situation either, but I at least felt like I was coping. Chuck hadn't complained much all summer and it worried me that he was afraid of starting school. He needed some confidence there, and old clothes didn't seem like a good enough reason for him to lose it.

"What's really eating you, Chuck?" I smiled at him. "At least you have new undies! If anybody makes fun of you just pull your pants down!"

"It's not the clothes, Marcy. I just don't wanna fail everything. How the hell am I gonna study if I hafta take care of Daddy all the time? How'm I supposed to think when I'm hungry all the time?" Tears welled up in his eyes. "I'm not gonna make it, Sis. I just know it."

I tried to give him a reassuring look, but I knew he was probably right. We started walking again. "Chucky, when you need to study why not just stay after or go to the library? I can look after Dad, then I can study when you get back. We can make it work. We're not stupid and we got each other. Just stop worryin' all the time."

He looked up at me. "You really think I worry too much? How can I worry too much? If I lose my friggin' pencil I'm screwed. I don't have a second one, and I ain't takin' yours!"

Chuck was right, but I still hated seeing him so down on the first day of school. There had been precious few happy moments since Dad got hurt, but Chuck always had a spirit that seemed uncrushable. Seeing him so deflated actually frightened me. I put my hand on his shoulder. "Be tough, Chucky. I'm buyin' lunch."

That got a little smile, then we were at school. It was early, so I walked him around and showed him where everything was before leaving him at the auditorium for Freshman orientation. He met a few of his friends from junior high there, and they seemed more interested in him than his clothes. I walked to home room feeling a little better for him.

The morning was boring, though I thought a few of the teachers would probably be good. There just isn't anything to teach the first day. It was all chair assignments and signing out books.

I met Chuck at the entrance to the cafeteria line. We just had the one dollar and I was trying to get things that would at least fill us up. It wasn't really enough for one of us, but I was willing to let Chuck eat and just lick his plate or something. I was trying to convince him to get mashed potatoes instead of fries, telling him that they were cheaper and more filling. It might even have been true, but I liked mashed much better.

I felt a poke in my back, then a black-haired kid was holding a ten dollar bill out to me saying I'd dropped it. I argued with him. It wasn't my money, after all. I had a hard time paying attention. The boy I was trying not to take money from was cute, but the kid behind him was gorgeous. My attention was going back and forth between the one who was trying to make me take the money and the one behind him. The first one told us to just fill up our tray and he'd pay for it. It made me mad that he knew we were poor, but by the time I turned around Chuck had about ten pounds of food on the tray. I was exasperated, but all I could see was the second boy.

I don't know what it was. They actually looked like each other, both with black hair and nice looking. The kid trying to give me the money was a little bigger, but the guy behind him just had an amazingly intelligent and bemused look in his eyes. It was too late to do anything but relent to the lunch offer, but I warned him that it would be just that once.

Chuck and I found a table and ate our lunch. We didn't leave a crumb, but we both wondered aloud what it was all about. We saw those two and some of their friends a little later at a noisy table near us, but they didn't seem to notice that we were there.

Chucky seemed better during the walk home. He had home room and some classes with some friends and wasn't so scared anymore.

The next day at lunch the two guys from yesterday and some of their friends sat at the same table with us. Mom had made us sandwiches and told us to bring the bag back home. When they sat down, they introduced themselves and we told them our names. Tony, who I already had decided was going to be my husband, sat across from me and I don't know how many times my sandwich almost met my nose instead of my mouth. He was this girl's dream.

The guys seemed to have an easy friendship and I was surprised that, except for Jason and Alex, they'd just met the day before. They all seemed to have extra things on their trays, but before long they were handing them to Chuck and me saying they got too much and couldn't finish it all. Extra milk, extra mashed potatoes, extra desserts.

They all seemed to want to know where we lived. I told them the street, but not the number. I didn't know why they'd even be interested in that, so I just avoided the question. Dave was really pressing for it and I started to think that was a little strange, but otherwise he seemed like a real nice kid.

The same thing happened the next day, except Tony asked me out.

"Um ... Marcy?"

"Yes?"

"You think you'd like ... um, I mean .... wanna see a movie or somethin' on Saturday? It's okay if you don't, I mean. It's just somethin' to do ... you know what I mean? I mean ... I mean ... I think you're really nice."

My defenses dropped like sandbags. I already had it in my own mind that I was going somewhere with this boy, now he was asking me out. I really wished he'd said I was sexy or foxy, but he said he thought I was nice. Well, I am nice. At least I try to be.

I looked into his big brown eyes. "I'd love to. I have to ask, but I'd love it!"

I looked at Chuck, but he was talking with the other guys. It didn't matter. I'd just been asked on my first date ever, and by the guy who I wanted to ask me. He asked me for my street address and I gave it to him. He wrote it down on a piece of paper he had in his pocket.

On Friday I ate my lunch alone with Tony. He was a little shy, but very funny and sweet. He was actually Chuck's age, a year younger than me, but that didn't bother either one of us.

We talked about our families and I told him how Daddy had been out of work for over a year because of a back injury. He said he thought one of his uncles had also ruptured a disk but it had been corrected with surgery. I explained that my father's injury had happened at home and there was no insurance to pay for anything. My mother couldn't even afford the medications he needed, so he got by on aspirin.

We made plans to go to the matinee the next day. The show was at two, so Tony would come by at one-thirty and we'd walk to the theater. Neither of us had bothered to find out what was playing. I was too excited to care. I only wanted to spend time with Tony. It was my first date and the first time I'd been to the movies in a year. We were just getting ready to leave the lunch room when Chucky came running over all excited.

"Hi, Sis. Hi, Tony. What time's your date tomorrow?"

Tony grinned at him. "You are not coming with us, Chuck."

I was smiling at my brother. I hadn't seen a look of real enthusiasm on his face in a long time, and it felt good to see it back. "We're going at one-thirty, why?"

"Dave just asked me to go with him and his friends in the morning. I wanna know when you're leavin' so I can be sure to be back in time to take care of Dad while you're gone."

"Can you be home by one? Where they takin' you?"

"It's their friend's house. Some kinda farm or somethin'. Come on, Sis ... I really wanna go. I promise to be home on time."

"I don't mind, Chucky ... you need to ask the parents if you can go."

"They'll let me, doncha think? I haven't been anywhere in like forever!"

"I don't see why they wouldn't. It's not gonna cost anythin' is it?"

He grinned. "Nope! Not a dime." His look turned pleading. "You'll help me get permission won't ya?"

Tony was smiling at me and nodding his head very slightly. I looked at Chuck's eager face and smiled. "I'll help. Now get lost and go learn somethin'."

He stood up straight and gave me a grin I hadn't seen in ages, then he saluted me. "Yes ma'am, General." As he turned away I heard him mutter, "I mean Lieutenant."

That got Tony laughing. "You guys get along great, don't you?"

"He can be a jerk sometimes, but he's a good kid. We don't have a lot we can do, so we spend most of our time together. I guess I could'a done worse in the brother department."

We picked up our trays and dumped them off, then headed to our afternoon classes. When Chuck and I were walking home we were both excited about the next day, and for once it was for different reasons. My parents had both been excited that I was going on my first date. My mother had rearranged her lunch hour so she could be at home to meet Tony the next day. Chuck was excited to have new friends and about going wherever it was with them. He wasn't sure what they were going to do exactly, but he listed off the possibilities. It sounded like a fun place.

When we got home Chuck grabbed the mail and carried it upstairs to give to my father. The mail had become one of the high points of his otherwise boring day. He'd cuss at every bill, but read every ad and political flyer from top to bottom. Now that we were back in school and he was alone most of the day it seemed even more important to him.

He was sitting at the kitchen table and greeted us with his usual ear-to-ear grin. "Hi kids! You both look happy. School's going good, then?"

Chuck dropped the mail on the table in front of him, then gave him a careful hug. We had to be careful. We never knew if it was a good day or a bad day for him pain-wise. This appeared to be a good day, so I gave him a big hug and we held it for awhile.

When I pulled away he looked at me. "What was that for?"

"Because I love you, Daddy."

He smiled at me. "I love you too, princess." He looked over at Chuck. "I love you too, Hercules."

Chuck put on a big grin and started doing muscle-man poses. That made both me and my father laugh. We went to our rooms to change from our old school clothes into our even older after-school clothes.

I went back into the kitchen to start dinner. I was slicing an onion when I heard Dad take a sudden breath like he did when he twisted the wrong way. I looked over to see if he was okay, but he was just looking at a piece of mail.

"Marcy! Look at this!"

I put the knife down and went over to the table. He handed me a card like a birthday card. On the front it had a picture of a cat and a dog leaning against each other, and the word 'friends' written in big letters. I opened it and it just said 'forever' on the inside. It was signed 'Us'.

"Who's it from, Daddy?"

"I don't know. Look what was inside." He handed me a folded piece of paper. When I unfolded it there were two one-hundred dollar bills there and a typewritten note.

I looked at the money - I'd never seen a big bill and thought they must be fake. I dropped them on the table and read the note.

Dear Ames Family,

Times get hard for all of us sometimes, and we know they are hard for you right now. You can use the enclosed money for whatever you need or want, but we hope you use it to give your children better lives than you can on your own. We have enclosed $200.00 this time. If we see that you spend it on things like food and clothing we will continue to send you $100.00 per week until you let us know that you don't need it anymore.

Be good and try to be happy,

We Are Your Friends

I looked at my father and he was just staring at me. We both looked at the money on the table and back at each other. I asked, "Who sent this? Is it real money?"

Dad said, "It's real. I don't know what to make of it, honey. There's no return address or anything. You don't know anything about it?"

"How would I know anything? CHUCK! GET YER BUTT OUT HERE! It must be friends of you or Ma. I don't know anybody to mail us money."

Chuck came skidding across the floor in his socks. "What?"

He saw the money on the table, then looked back and forth between my father and me. He picked up the bills, a look of wonder on his face. "Is it real? Where'd we get two hundred bucks?"

My father looked at him, then said, "I don't know, Chuck ... it just showed up in the mail." He looked at both of us in turn. "It's here, though. Put some shoes on and run down to the store and tell your Mom, okay Chuck? See if she knows anything."

Chucky looked all excited, then ran to his room. The next sound we heard was the door slamming. I sat down and picked up the money and looked at it, then looked at my father. He was reading the note again, but he kept looking at me over it. He must have read it five or six times before he laid it on the table and held his gaze on me.

"Marcy, I don't know where this is from. You know how I feel about charity but ..." He picked the note up again and looked at it. "It's signed 'Your friends'. Do you think the guys at work took up a collection or something? It's a lot of money."

I looked at the note again. None of it made any sense. Not the amount of money, not the promise of more, not the signature. It sounded like whoever sent it would be watching to see how it was spent. It had to be somebody nearby, but I didn't have a clue. I looked at my father. "Are we gonna keep it?"

He looked at me with a perplexed expression. "I'm not throwing it away, kid. I can't send it back because I don't know where it came from. Wait 'til your mother comes home, then we'll figure it out." He gave me a little smile and it turned into a big one. "So, you have a boyfriend? I can't wait to meet him! You always hated boys."

That little comment made a lot of feelings surge through me. I'd always said I hated boys when I was little, and that's what Dad was remembering. I'd just been afraid of boys for the last few years. Not really afraid of them, just afraid of what they'd think of me. My mother always said I was pretty, but all mothers said that. My friends thought I was getting a good figure, but I couldn't see it.

I'd actually liked boys for at least two years, I just didn't know what to do with them. When one was a little friendly I was shy. When another one got too friendly I got mad. Now the nicest, handsomest, sweetest boy I'd ever met was taking me out tomorrow. It seemed way more important than the money on the table, though my father and I kept eyeing it. We caught each other looking and both laughed nervously.

It was as much money as my mother earned in two weeks and we knew it was important, we just didn't know why it was there or who had sent it. My parents had always balked at the idea of charity or welfare, but this money was already here and there was no way to know where it came from, no way to send it back..

My father and I kept exchanging glances. He finally looked at me and said very softly, "Princess, I don't know where this came from, but you have your first date tomorrow. When your Mom gets home why don't you two go shopping for some new clothes for you? You should look nice for your boyfriend." He tried to smile and wink, but I could tell he would have preferred to provide this himself.

I liked the word, though. Boyfriend sounded just about perfect, and I hoped it was the case. Tony was my boyfriend? God, I wanted it to be so, but I didn't get what he saw in me. He'd told me that his family was pretty poor too, but he had money he'd saved from mowing lawns all summer. He was so smart and happy that I didn't care if he was poor too. I'd always imagined that I would meet some Prince Charming ... some rich kid who'd sweep me off my feet into Wonderland forever. After meeting Tony I changed my mind. We'd only known each other for a few days, but somehow I felt that together we could be and do anything we wanted to.

I went back to cooking dinner. My father helped to the extent that he could. If it involved bending or reaching I was on my own, but he was a decent cook in his own right It wasn't long before we had a nice meatless lasagna cooking in the oven.

Chuck came running back in all breathless. "Dad!" He ran over and gave him a reckless hug, but it was still a good pain day for Dad. He just hugged him back and smiled.

"What'd your mother say?"

He was still breathing hard. "She ... she's coming home in a minute ... just finishing up with a customer."

I don't think Chuck was thinking right then. He sat on my father's knee and leaned back into him like he used to be able to do. My father just put his arm around him and pulled him in close. I winced a little thinking about his back, but I was glad to see it. They had always been best friends. It's funny, because me and my Dad are more alike personality-wise. Chuck has my mother's temperament, but it didn't matter much because we all got along anyhow. The women were in charge and the men knew it. They liked it that way, I think.

Now we had some excitement. A mystery. There was money on the table and none of us knew what it was about. None of us would give it another thought until Mom got home. She wouldn't know what to do either, but she'd make the rest of us think until we decided something. That's how our little family worked. Before my father got hurt he used to joke that we were our own democracy. Each of us kids got one vote, Mom got three and he got six. His accident had given my mother his votes. She was the one keeping us together ... keeping us alive.

When she got home she read the card, then the note. She looked at the note for a long time, then looked at my father. She picked up the envelope and saw that there was no return address. She looked confused at first, then looked at my father. "You okay here for about an hour, hon?"

He looked really confused.

"If we want to keep it coming we need to show it's going to the kids. Chuck, go look in the desk for your father's prescription. We're going shopping!"

We did. My mother never overdid anything, but she dropped us at the department store to pick out some new clothes for ourselves (giving us strict limits) while she went to the drugstore to get the proper medication for my father. Chuck managed four pairs of pants, four shirts and a sweater while I chose two pairs of designer jeans, one top and a sweater. When Mom got there she made me bring back one pair of the designer jeans and pick out a skirt and a pair of plain slacks and another blouse.

Chuck and I were walking on air on the way home. As soon as we got there, Mom gave Chucky some money and sent him to the corner store for a half-gallon of ice cream to celebrate with. We celebrated. There hadn't been four genuine smiles in that house for over a year. My father had some medicine that gave him real relief from his pain, we had new clothes, and everything was looking up. Of course, we didn't know if the note told the truth, but somehow we all felt that it did. Our mysterious benefactor was going to come through and things were going to change.

Dave picked Chuck up the next morning. He came up to the apartment with his friend Tim to meet my Dad and explain where they were going. They seemed as excited as Chuck was. My father was enjoying their company, but as soon as Chuck complained that it was taking too long he sent them off on their adventure.

The medication was working, and my father pretty well took care of himself while I cleaned the house, then got ready for my date. I was so excited that I kept misplacing things, but I was finally ready by the time Chuck got home with Dave and Tim. They had all obviously had a good time and they sat with my father in the living room while I waited for Tony.

My mother came home and saw me in my new clothes. I think they made her happier than they did me, but we had a nice cheerful talk while she brushed my hair. She was giving me useless warnings about 'some boys' when the doorbell rang. I started to go to answer it, but she made Chucky go down to let Tony in. We waited at the top of the stairs.

Chuck came through the door first. As soon as he stepped aside I was looking at Tony's shy smile. He'd polished himself up for this as much as I had, and he looked wonderful. We looked at each other until my mother cleared her throat. I jumped a little, then stood beside Tony looking at my mother. "Mom, this is Tony."

I'd been worried, but she made it easy. She smiled and held out her hand. "Hi, Tony. Nice to meet you." She looked at me. "Marcy, take Tony in to meet your father, then go have a good time."

When we walked in there my father stood right up. He hadn't done it like that in a long time. He smiled and shook hands with Tony, then told us to enjoy our date. Dave introduced Tim as his best friend, then we were headed down the stairs to the street. I had been dreading wisecracks, especially from Chuck, but also from my parents.

When we got outside Tony looked at me and smiled, turning it into a grin. "Your parents are neat! I was so scared coming over here - I thought I'd get all kinds of lectures and everything. The only ones I got were from my own folks."

I laughed a little. "They gave you a lecture?"

He looked a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, you know ... be a gentleman and everything. This ... ah ... this is my first date. First real date, anyhow."

I decided to tease a little. "You've been on fake dates?"

"Huh?"

"If this one's real, were the other ones fake?"

He gave me a look, then smiled. "Nah, just a gang going somewhere. This is the first time I've been with a girl by myself. Somebody I asked by myself." His expression turned into a question. "You know what I mean?"

"It's my first date, too."

"You gotta be kidding, right? All the guys are talkin' about you. You're a ... you're HOT!"

My brain was working a mile a minute. All the guys were talking about me? Tony thought I was hot? I felt very flattered for a second, then started to wonder if they all just thought they could get in my pants because I was poor. Was that what Tony was expecting? I looked over at his smile. "What do you think, Tony? Am I hot or just nice?"

He took my hand in his, then looked at the sky. "Well, you're definitely good lookin', but you're real nice and you seem real smart. That's what I like - the smart and nice." Tony had an expressive face, and it changed again. This time to one of horror. "Don't get me wrong here, I think you're beautiful, but I'd still like you even if you looked like your brother. You look really great today. New clothes?"

It was my turn to blush. "Yeah, they're new. Mom wanted me to look my best for you." I stopped walking and took a step back. "You like?"

He was looking at my face, but quickly looked down my body and back up. His shy smile came back. "I like. I like a lot." He turned completely around, giving me a look at him. "How 'bout you? You like?"

"I like what I see, but I think you're funny and kind and really smart too."

That made him grin. "I must be smart, then, Davy said the same thing. I guess I just catch on quick to things." The grin turned back into the shy smile. "I'm really havin' a good time, Marcy."

He took my hand again and we walked to the movie theater. He bought the tickets, then we got a box of popcorn and a soda with two straws and went in to watch the movie. I don't remember the name of the movie but it was pretty funny. I loved listening to Tony laugh, and every time he did he'd touch me somewhere. I really liked that. After a while he had his arm across my shoulder and we were watching the movie with our cheeks touching. When the movie ended, Tony kissed my cheek. I know I blushed, but the theater was still dark. I turned my head to kiss his cheek, but met his face instead and ended up kissing his lips.

It wasn't what I had intended, and I know it surprised Tony. I pulled back as soon as I realized what I'd done, but he didn't move at all. I leaned back to him and we kissed again, holding it briefly this time. It seemed like the perfect moment to me. I was kissing Tony and it was the first real kiss of my life. We broke it off after a minute, then stared at each other. We both started giggling. I liked Tony and it really seemed that he liked me for myself.

I couldn't believe it. I'd started the week walking a very nervous little brother to school, then ended up with mystery money on the kitchen table and on a date with a boy who I thought was a dream come true. Not just on a date either. He kissed me and we both enjoyed it.

When the lights came up we left the theater and walked across the street to get a milkshake. We sat at a table and sipped and talked until it was time to go home. Tony was really easy to talk to. We told each other a lot, and I got a kick out of the way he used his hands to make a point. I'd sat with Dave at lunch a few times and thought it was funny the way he was always flapping his arms and hands when he was talking, but Tony did it differently ... as if he was drawing pictures with his hands as he spoke

I sensed a very sensitive and loving person in Tony. He told me about his first day of school, about meeting Dave at the bus stop and being in awe of the toughest guy in school, then learning that Dave wasn't a mean bastard at all. He just liked people and wanted to make friends. Tony thought he'd have to be tough to get along in high school, but after meeting Dave he decided he could be the way he really was. He didn't say it in words, but I judged that to be a boy who liked and cared about people.

We walked back to my house holding hands. Tony walked, anyhow. I don't recall my feet touching the ground. I invited him upstairs, and we were both surprised to find Tim and Dave still there talking to my father.

When we walked in they barely said hello before Dave asked Tony, "Hey! Your uncle had that operation that fixed his back. How much did it cost?"

Tony was a little startled. "How the ... I mean, I don't know." He turned on his grin. "Yeah, the movie was great."

While Tony was saying this Tim was socking Dave on the arm. "Show some class, man. It's their first date and you're talkin' about surgery?" He looked at me, then Tony with a warm smile. "How'd it go, guys. You two an item now?"

That made us both blush. I turned an embarrassed eye to Tony. He smiled his shy smile and raised his eyebrows. "I .. I hope so. Are we? I mean, are we an item?"

I wanted to melt, but my father was right there in his armchair. I looked at him, then Tim, then Dave, then Chuck. I was mentally willing all of them to disappear. My father settled it.

"Why don't you two go sit on the porch? This ain't our business."

"Thanks, Daddy!" I grabbed Tony's hand and led him out to the little upstairs porch. The only seat was an old aluminum slider. It was comfortable enough for three people, but my family had squeezed together on it on many hot nights. We sat down really close together and Tony's arm went immediately across my shoulder.

We sat like that for a minute, then Tony turned his whole body sideways to look at me. "You wanna? I mean, you wanna be an item? I don't mean that." He dropped his eyes for a second, then looked back up. "You wanna ... I mean ... I really like you, Marcy." His eyes were like saucers. Beautiful saucers. "Will you ... go out with me?"

No question about it! "You mean ... go steady?"

He grinned. "Yeah, that's what I mean."

I gave him his answer in the form of a long kiss.

We sat out there kissing and talking until my father sent Chucky out to tell us it was time to come inside. Luckily, Chuck found us while we were just holding hands and talking quietly. He still teased us a little, but his teasing felt good to me.

When we went inside, we found Dave and Tim getting ready to leave. They offered Tony a ride home, and my father suggested he take it because it was time for us to eat supper. I walked down with the three of them. As Dave and Tim headed to the car, Tony gave me a hug and a kiss and promised to call me later that night.

I went upstairs and found my father in the kitchen with Chuck. They were getting dinner ready. I said, "Isn't that my job?"

My father turned around and smiled at me. "You get the night off, Princess. I haven't felt this good in a year. Tonight it's gonna be Pop's surprise!"

"Meatloaf, huh?"

"Of course meatloaf. It's the only thing I know how to make. You got yourself some nice friends there, kiddo. They spent the whole afternoon yakking with the old man, and I haven't had such a good time in I don't know when. I don't even have to ask how your date went. It's painted right on your face. Tony seems like a nice boy, too." He grinned an evil grin. "Did he get that milk moustache off your lip for you?"

"Daddy!"

He laughed and held his arms out for a hug. "Just kiddin', Marcy. I'm just glad to see you makin' friends with nice people."

I walked over and gave him a gentle hug, but he pulled me to him like he used to be able to do. He leaned down to hug me, then straightened up and lifted me right off the floor.

"Daddy, don't! You'll hurt yourself!"

He put me down, then kissed me on the forehead. "You're right, Princess. These pills get rid of the pain, but I have to remember not to do too much. How 'bout you set the table? Your Mom should be home any minute.

I was just filling the water glasses when my mother walked in. She looked tired, but she turned on a high voltage smile when she saw us all in the kitchen. There was a lot of talk at the table that night. I told everybody about my date, Chuck told us about the fun he'd had in the morning, my father told us about some of the pranks Tim and Dave had described to him. Our little family was happy and laughing as one. I don't know about the others, but I had a tiny little feeling that somehow our bubble would have to burst before long. I dismissed the thought, deciding to enjoy the moment for as long as it lasted.

When Chuck and I walked to school on Monday in our new clothes we felt totally different than we had on the first day. We just didn't feel like the poor kids from envy city anymore. Mom still packed us a lunch, but gave us a dollar each for drinks and dessert.

I met Tony in the front of the school and Chuck left to find his friends. When we walked inside we were holding hands.

School seemed totally different. Girls who had hardly said 'boo' to me before were gushing over Tony and complimenting my new jeans. The teachers' lectures suddenly made sense and I thought I was learning something from them instead of from the books for once.

Tony and I tried to sit alone at lunch, but the table filled up with other kids and they seemed interested in us. We found them interesting too, and before long it seemed more like a social hour than lunch.

Tony kissed me in the schoolyard before catching his bus, then called me and talked for an hour after dinner. My father, with the right pain pills, was fending for himself. Our house was still a happy place.

When we got home on Wednesday there was a box beside the mailbox. We carried it upstairs with the mail and waited while my father opened it. When he got the top off we saw another card exactly like the one the money had come in the other day. It was sitting on top of a bunch of papers that were stapled together, and that was sitting on top of what looked like a sweater. Chuck was getting all antsy. When my father picked up the card we both stood behind him to read over his shoulder.

When he opened the card there was a folded up piece of paper just like before. There was a hundred dollar bill in it, but the note was different. It said that the papers in the box described a new procedure called a lumbar lamenectomy that could permanently fix my father's back. He was to read about it, then if he decided to go through the operation just have Chuck wear the sweater to school one day. Everything would be taken care of. The note ended like this:

We know that you probably hate the idea of us helping your family like this. If you have the operation you should be able to get back to work within a month. We will take care of everything, then you can get your lives back to normal.

We are your friends. We want to help others too, so the sooner you get yourself fixed up the sooner we can start doing that.

There are risks with all operations, but they should be minor with this one. If you decide not to take those risks we will understand and continue with our earlier promise. If you have the operation and get back to work, just have your son wear the sweater again when you no longer need our contributions. We will only look for the sweater on your son, so if you decide not to have the surgery, never let him wear it.

Thank you,

Your Friends

Chuck and I just stared. My father looked back and handed the note to me, then he picked up the sheaf of paper and started reading it. Chuck and I left him alone and started dinner. When my mother came home my father explained the operation to all of us. It was relatively non-intrusive and didn't even require stitches afterwards. My mother took the paperwork into the living room as we went to bed.

The next morning we had a little breakfast meeting. My parents were willing to risk the operation, and they explained that the risks were pretty minor even though it qualified as spinal surgery. My father, on the proper medication, had been pretty much pain free since the weekend, but he still feared overdoing something and making things worse. He wanted to go for the operation, but wanted all our consents. Chuck and I both had questions, but our parents were reassuring. We decided to go for it, and Chuck put on the sweater.

Chuck and I wondered all day who would be taking notice of the sweater. Somebody we passed on the way? The teachers or the staff? Our neighbors? A week later, when we got home my father was waiting for us. He had a little bag packed. He was waiting for my mother to get home to go to the hospital with him. His doctor had re-examined him the day after Chuck wore his sweater, and all the tests had come back OK. He'd gotten a call from the hospital right after lunch and the surgery was scheduled for the next morning, but he had to check in that night for blood tests and the like.

Daddy looked like I felt - pale and nervous, but he was joking about it. When Mom got home we all walked down to the hospital together - it was just a few blocks away. We all sat there until a staff lady came and brought my father into an office to fill out paperwork, then they brought him up to a room and we were allowed to come along with them. Chuck and I had to leave when they wanted him to get undressed and take tests. My mother stayed with my father and we walked home alone.

I was scared for my father, and I could tell Chucky was too. We just sat there looking at each other until the phone rang. It was Tony, and he kept my mind off things for a while. I had to cut our conversation short in case my mother called, and I didn't want Chuck to sit by himself while we waited. Tony offered to come over and wait with us. I didn't know what my parents would think of the idea, but I told him to come on over.

When he got there he cheered us both up. He called his uncle to see if it was the same operation and it was. That really cheered us up because Tony said his uncle had been way worse than our Dad until he had it done, then he was perfectly normal.

Tony sat with us until my mother called saying she was on her way home. My father was in bed and had been given a sleeping pill. The operation was scheduled for seven the next morning.

Tony and I walked downstairs and kissed for a while. I didn't want it to end and was sort of mentally counting my mother's footsteps from the hospital, hoping to get Tony out of there at the last safe moment. Either my Mom walked fast or I lost track of time, but the next thing I heard was, "Oh! Hi, Tony."

We jumped apart, caught in the act. My mother just held her hand out to Tony. "It's nice to see you again. Don't worry about me. You have permission to kiss my daughter."

The look on Tony's face was precious. "Really?"

"Did you hear anything else?"

"Huh?"

"I said you can kiss her, Tony. Talk, kiss. Hold hands, kiss ... hug and kiss. You have my permission. Anything else and you need Marcy's permission."

Tony looked stunned, looking back and forth between my mother and me. My mother continued on, "You also need her father's permission for that anything else. You understand me, don't you?"

Tony seemed to shrink for a moment, then he stood up straight and smiled. "I understand."

"Good. I thought you would. You kids have a nice time. Marcy, don't stay out too late. There's school tomorrow."

"I'll be right in."

My mother walked towards the door. Tony looked at me with a huge grin. As soon as my mother was inside he said, "Your parents are really neat." His expression instantly went solemn. "Um, we don't need to talk to your father right away do we? I mean ... I mean I like being with you. No, I love being with you. I love kissing you, but I'm not ready for anything else yet. Am I sayin' the right thing here? Am I makin' any sense?"

He was making perfect sense to me. He wasn't ready for sex yet and I wasn't either. I was just standing there staring at Tony. He noticed me.

"What?"

As usual, the expression on his face made me smile. I was smiling at something else, too. Tony was totally honest with his feelings. I realized at that moment that my infatuation was turning into love for this smart, good looking boy. I knew him well enough by then to know that he was unsure about a lot of things, but when he looked inward to decide what to do about something he invariably chose the best path. He was outgoing about things he was sure about, shy about other things.

The trait that prevailed was his good nature. I knew that some things angered him, but he never got mad. His anger was more of an abstract thing, never directed at people but at their actions. He was a lot like me in that respect. I was angry that we were poor, angry that my Dad's accident had made us that way. Things happened at home that would get me mad at my parents or brother for a while, but I could never hold onto it. The anger always ended up being directed at what had happened, not who had caused it to happen.

I looked at Tony, realizing that I'd spaced out for a minute. "Tony, I ... I really like you a lot. I was just thinking that we're a lot alike, you and me. Kiss me?"

I swear, every expression that kid could put on his face was worthy of a museum painting. Right then his eyes opened so wide and his eyebrows went so far up on his head that it looked like everything could just drop out and bounce along the ground.

"Really? You really like me?"

We hugged and I gave him a quick kiss on the lips, then stood there with our noses touching. "Really, Tony. Really really. I ... I..."

My words were silenced when his lips met mine. We had been kissing since the weekend, but it had all seemed kind of experimental. It had been fun, and it had been important. This kiss transcended that. We weren't frenching or anything, but at that moment I felt a different kind of connection with him, a oneness, a need to never let go. He was pressing into me and I could tell that he was aroused. I wondered at the thought that I could cause that. I also felt wonder at the sexual feelings that kiss had aroused in me. New feelings. Wonderful feelings. Feelings that would never again be suppressed.

Tony finally pulled back for air, another new expression on his face. One of wonder and awe. "Wow!"

I socked his shoulder and grinned. "Wow yourself, mister. Did I answer your question?"

"And how!"

I nuzzled up to him. "I have a question for you. Do you really like me too?"

He grinned. "Let me put it this way ... does your father have a phone in his room?"

I was about to answer when my mother called me in from the upstairs porch. I kissed Tony again, then headed towards the house. Just before I went inside I looked at where he was going and he was skipping! He was fourteen years old and skipping down the street where everybody could see him. I was suddenly sure that I was in love.

My mother made us go to school the next morning, though she had taken the day off to go to the hospital. It was hard to pay attention to anything knowing that my father was under the knife. It was a struggle to get through my classes, then at about ten o'clock I got called to go to the office. Chuck was already there and I started to panic, but it was just a message from my mother saying that everything had gone well and that we should go to the hospital from school to visit my father.

Worry turned into impatience and the day seemed to drag by. At the end of the day I waited outside for Chuck. Tony walked over and said he was going with us to the hospital. Just when Chuck walked out Dave came over and said Tim could give us all a ride.

We walked over to his car and squeezed in. Tony held on to me and I'm sure he sensed my anxieties. I think we all felt each other's fears as nobody said anything until we got there. Tim surprised me by parking the car and saying that he and Dave were coming in, too. He said they liked my father and wanted to make sure he was alright. That made me start to cry. Who were these guys? Teenagers like me, but they spent a Saturday afternoon cheering up my father and now they wanted to make sure he was alright.

Tony held onto me until I calmed down. When we got to the room my mother was there talking to my father. He looked pretty happy and said he felt fine, though he was on an IV and hooked up to some other things and couldn't move very much.

He pointed out the fact that all of his toes were pointing straight up. The pressure on his nerves from the ruptured disk had made his right foot splay out. The sight of it pointing in the normal direction was all he needed to believe that the operation had been a success.

My father seemed really pleased that Dave and Tim had come to see him, but when he looked at me standing there with Tony he gave me a special smile.

Dad had to stay in the hospital one more day for lessons on how to take care of himself for the next two weeks, then he was home again. The pain was gone, save for some stiffness and tingling from permanent nerve damage. In a week he started on the exercise program and in another week he applied for and got his old job back. He'd never really quit or been fired, just taken a leave, so it was no problem. He told Chuck to wear the sweater back to school on Monday.

That Friday night we all went out to dinner for the first time in over a year. I invited Tony to come with us. It wasn't an expensive place, but it was a fixture in the town. Tony was a little shy at first, but when he opened up I could see that my parents saw the same qualities in him as I did. Nobody teased us all night until we were waiting for the bill.

My father looked at Tony, who had been looking at me most of the night. "What're you thinking, Tony?"

Tony looked startled, then smiled. "Good thoughts."

"That's nice. What're you going to do with your life?"

Tony pondered that for a moment, then spread his smile around the table. "Good things."

It was my father's turn to grin. "Who do you love?"

Tony didn't flinch. He looked at me with an ear to ear smile.

"Marcy!"

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