preface part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

An hour later, my cell phone buzzed on the desk beside me. It was Joey.

“Hi,” he rasped. The cough from earlier sounded like it was turning into a full-fledged cold. He’d probably picked it up running chairs into the soccer field last night.

“Hey, are you expelled?” I asked.

“Nah, they went easy on us. $50 fine each and we have to scrub the mats and all the chairs in the chapel tonight.”

I was so relieved that he wasn’t expelled.

“Well, it could have been a whole lot worse,” I encouraged him.

“Oh, totally. Hey, I’m on my way over to the chapel now to get started, but I’m feeling sick. Do you have any cough drops or anything?” He asked.

My heart flip-flopped. “Sure, I have Halls and stuff. Do you want ibuprofen too?”

“Sure, I’ll take whatever you’ve got,” he replied. “Thanks. I’ll see you in five.”

I perched myself on the window ledge and watched out the window, waiting to see him leave his dorm room and walk across the circle. Sister raised her eyebrows knowingly and plunked down on the floor to study for her Old Testament Prophets exam that was coming up on Monday. She was mumbling something about prophecy and the millennial kingdom when I finally spotted Joey coming across the circle. I flew out of the room, jumping over her and her books without so much as a backward glance.

“Sorry,” I tossed over my shoulder at her, and I thundered down the steps.

Joey looked awful. He clearly should be taking a nap instead of going to scrub chapel mats, but I guess that’s what you get when you pull a prank of that magnitude on President’s Chapel day.

“Here,” I said, handing him a napkin full of medicine and cough drops, “I hope you feel better.”

“Thanks,” he sniffled. “I probably will.”

We chatted for a few minutes, until the cold evening air made Joey’s nose redder than it already was, and I shooed him into the Convocation building to thaw out.

The next day the chairs and mats in the chapel looked exactly the same as they had the day prior. But the guys had cleaned them and paid their $50, so restitution was made. Joey, however, looked miserable.

“I’m going to Wal-Mart after class,” he said, stuffily to me. “Do you need anything?”

I didn’t. Nor did I have any money.

“Yes,” I said, racking my brain to think of what I could possibly “need” that was really cheap between now and when we left for the store.

“OK, I’ll pick you up at 2:30,” he said. “Or do you have to work today?”

“No, I don’t have to work, it’s my day off since I’m doing a Saturday shift.”

“I’ll pick you up in ten, how’s that?”

I ran back upstairs and changed into jeans and a t-shirt and studied until I noticed it was 2:30 and Joey was probably on his way. It was still too cold at the end of April to go without a jacket, so I grabbed my lightweight khaki trench coat from the Gap, still trying to come up with something I needed from Wal-Mart.

Joey drove up to my dorm in a gold Honda Accord. I jumped in and noticed a stuffed cow sitting on the dashboard. Oh no, I wonder if he has a girl he likes who gave him that cow…I wondered.

I decided to be brave.

“Nice cow,” I said, picking it up and shaking it around. It was one of those beanie ones.

“Yeah, my dad got it for me in Atlanta,” he replied.

I smiled broadly but turned my face so Joey couldn’t see me.

“His name is Mr. Milkypants,” he offered, gesturing to the cow.

“I really like cows,” I told him. “I have a collection of them sitting on my desk.”

“Mr. Milkypants is pretty much my only cow,” Joey said. “But they’re still pretty cool.”

I informed Joey that cows are more than just “pretty cool” but they are actually awesome and he would know that if he had ever bottle-fed a calf before, or let a freshly born one suck on his hand. He responded that he would probably never do either of those things because they seemed gross.

“I need peppermint tea,” I said blurted out abruptly.

“Huh?” Joey asked, sliding into a parking spot at Wal-Mart.

“I need peppermint tea from Wal-Mart,” I repeated inanely.

Joey kind of looked at me as if he had just realized that I hadn’t a clue what I needed from Wal-Mart when I got in the car with him. And then he looked pleased with himself.

“Five,” I said, glancing over the top of the car at Joey and slamming my car door, hard.

“Woah, don’t kill the door!” He teased me. Then – “Five what?”

“Five people from school in the store. Five bucks says we see five people we know from school in Wal-Mart.” Joey and I have always been competitive.

“Seven,” he replied. “And you’re on.”

We shook hands on it and I withdrew mine…he gave me tingles.

“I’m pretty sure betting’s against school rules,” I said, Joey was grabbing us a cart. “Is that a Major Violation or a Minor Violation? If you get one more of either you’re totally expelled from school.” The thought of the chair prank made me giggle every time. I couldn’t help myself.

“It’s probably a Minor Violation,” he said. “Oh look, there’s one.” He indicated a couple going through the check out.

“Do couples count as one or two?” I asked.

“Two,” he said. “And I’m going to win.”

We got my peppermint tea from the grocery section and went to the cold aisle to get Joey’s medicine. I talked him into Cold-Eeze zinc lozenges and Emergen-C (to prevent future attacks of illness) and, surprisingly, he threw them in the cart without protest.

He must like me, I thought. That was way too easy.

“Oh.” Joey said, stopping the cart cold in the middle of the main aisle. “I forgot one thing. Shampoo. I’m out of shampoo.”

“OK,” I said, starting into the shampoo aisle.

“I hate that aisle, it makes me nervous.” He was looking pale.

“It’s not so bad,” I said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him into the aisle. “Do you like Pantene or L’Oreal?”

“I don’t even know what that stuff is. I usually just get the generic brand,” he admitted.

I rolled my eyes at him, stifled a laugh, and grabbed him a bottle of L’Oreal All-In-One shampoo/conditioner. “Try this.”

Joey didn’t even look at it, he just turned around and raced the cart out of the aisle as quickly as possible.

“You,” I said, “Have problems.”

“None I can’t handle,” he replied.

We spotted three more people from school on our way out of the store and, when we reached the car, I put my hand out. “Pay up,” I said. “You lost.”

He groaned and pulled out five dollars. “Rematch next time, Laird.” He challenged me.

“You’re on,” I said.

He dropped me off at my dorm, five dollars richer and a box of unnecessary peppermint tea poorer.

“You got more tea?” Sister said, noticing what was in my bag.

“I needed an excuse, he asked me if I wanted to go to Wal-Mart and I had to get something to make it look legit,” I admitted.

“You’re weird,” Sister said.

“I know,” I replied.

The next two weeks were a flurry of studying (well, Sister studied and I mostly didn’t – but don’t tell my parents that) and taking final exams (because I couldn’t get out of those). Mom, Dad and The Kid were headed out for the Commencement ceremony, which all students were required to attend on pain of death if they did not, and to take Sister and Andrew home for the summer.

As for myself, they’d move me to Des Moines where I was house sitting. In a bad part of town. By myself. Because I’m full of great ideas.

An hour before Mom and Dad arrived, Sister and I were packing the last of our clothes into our laundry baskets and trying to find the skirts and stockings we’d set aside to wear to Commencement. Somehow they had gotten lost which, when one looked at the state of our room, was not a great surprise.

Dad called to give us the “I’m five minutes out” warning (no boys allowed in the dorms, Dads included, until after Commencement, at which time they were allowed to help move us girls out) and we grabbed our notebooks, gum and colored pens to take with us. I grabbed a couple of little containers of Play-Doh which I had bought on a previous Wal-Mart run with Joey and planned to sneak into Commencement (which gets extremely long) as a diversion.

“All set?” Sister asked.

“All set,” I replied, showing the Play-Doh and notebooks. She held up the pens and mints. (Dad always, always wants mints during church or anything that requires him to sit for a long time.) We Laird girls are always thinking.

Mom, Dad and The Kid were waiting for us at the door when we came down. Andrew was graduating from the one-year Bible program, so he was off getting his graduation dress on (at least that’s what I called it, just to make him mad) and we wanted to get good seats so we could make faces at him as he walked across the podium. (Some things never change.)

As we walked into the chapel, Mom and Dad fell in step behind us while Sister and I flanked The Kid and linked arms with him. We showed The Kid the Play-Doh and his eyes widened. “Ohhhh!” he said. “Yes.”

Dad found us a row of seats and we plopped down. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Joey a few rows in front of us. He was wearing a tuxedo (he was all dressed up because he was playing his saxophone as part of the Commencement ceremony) and a black felt bowler hat, which he was rolling up and down his arms, flipping in the air and catching on his head. Standing next to him was a cute older lady who giggled as he flipped the hat off his fingertips and plopped it right on her head.

“Mom,” I whispered, leaning over, “That’s Joey.” I had mentioned him once or twice before.

Mom followed my gaze and noticed Joey goofing around. “Who’s that lady?” She asked.

“That’s his grandma,” I replied.

“How nice,” Mom said, smiling.

Joey noticed us watching him. He smiled and waved, twirling his black bowler hat.

“He has lots of unique talents,” I said to Mom. “He can juggle. And solve a Rubik’s cube really, really fast.”

Mom didn’t appear so impressed by that as she was by the fact he was playing with his grandma, who was still giggling and laughing at his antics.

“He seems very nice,” Mom said.

“He is very nice,” I replied.

I sat back in my black plastic, uncomfortable chapel chair and was pleased. My reverie did not last long, however.

“Got any mints?” Dad asked, leaning across mom and reaching his hand toward Sister and I, exactly the same way he does it when we’re in church.

“Where’s that Play-Doh?” The Kid demanded. He jabbed me in the ribs with his bony elbow repeatedly until I produced the demanded Play-Doh.

Commencement was about to begin.

Several hours, and an intense back ache, later, Andrew had gotten his diploma. We were all in one of the classrooms at a graduates reception, buzzing around him, blowing his tassel in his face and making comments about how nice his dress looked. Poor Andrew.

Glancing at his watch, Dad noticed it was getting on time to load the van so they could head back to Cedar Rapids. Andrew turned his robes back in and he, Dad and The Kid walked jovially over to the dorms to get his stuff together. Mom, Sister and I went to our dorm room to the do the same.

(Joey tells me that, as Dad, Andrew and The Kid were carrying Andrew’s boxes to the van, he rode past them on his unicycle and volunteered his help since they were my family members. Pops however, replied, “Nah, we’ve got it. Thanks.” So Joey rode off.)

We ate dinner at one of the restaurants near the freeway, and within no time at all, my family was on the road again…headed back home. Three days later I was settled into my little house on the wrong side of the tracks down on the east side of Des Moines. In no time at all I had learned how to lock (and double lock) all the doors in the house, and where the safest spot was to park my car. I was starting to figure out which side streets were OK to go for walks on and which were a bad idea.

My summer class began the following Monday. I had high expectations of it being very boring indeed, but the class’ one redeeming factor was that I was taking it with Joey. We had a deal, though, he and I. We each bought a 12 pack of Mountain Dew and planned to sit together for the duration of the entire week long class (which went from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., Monday through Friday) and keep each other awake.

Let it be said here that I have never fallen asleep in class. (Joey, on the other hand…)

On Sunday evening around 8:30, the night before our class started, I was at home by myself laying on my couch watching TV. I had all the curtains pulled tight and was hoping the neighbors couldn’t see that I was home alone; I was more jumpy than a fainting goat.

Suddenly, the house phone rang and I jumped.

“Oh my gosh, calm down!” I told myself. I got off the couch and went over to pick up the phone.

“Hello?” I said.

“I just got off work and we’re going to Chinese; are you hungry?” It was Joey.

“I could eat something,” I said.

“I’ll be over to pick you up in just a few minutes.”

“No problem, I’ll see you in a few,” I said, panicking instantly. I dashed upstairs and went through three outfits before I found one that I felt like wearing and then ran back downstairs, being careful not to trip, to re-apply the makeup I had just taken off an hour before.

I was sitting on the couch like nothing had happened when Joey pulled up and knocked on my front door ten minutes later.

We got into Joey’s car and drove all over the place trying to find a Samurai Sam’s that was open. (This was back when gas was still “cheap”.) Pretty much every Chinese restaurant in Iowa closes at 9:00 on Sunday nights, so by the time we’d pull up their lights would just be going out.

We wound up at Taco John’s.

Joey ordered four tacos, I ordered two and we split an order of Potato Ole’s. We sat in a booth with about twenty packets of different kinds of hot sauces, putting different ones on different parts of the tacos to see which ones we liked best. I sat with my feet up on his side of the booth and, every so often when I’d say something irritating, he’d give my feet a little shove.

Flirting, I tell you what.

An hour later we had closed down Taco John’s. “Did you get your Mountain Dew yet for tomorrow?” Joey asked.

“Oh my gosh, no I had forgotten!” I said. It was so convenient that I had. He didn’t have to take me home for a little bit yet.

“Let’s stop at Wal-Mart before I take you home, then,” Joey said, and he pulled into the parking lot. “Eight,” he said, right before we walked in the store.

Oh yeah…our little Wal-Mart game to see how many people from school we could spot in the store.

“Four,” I said.

Five bucks was our agreed upon amount again, and we blazed into the store with eagle eyes…neither one of us really likes to lose.

First stop: soda aisle. (Or, the pop aisle if you live in Iowa, and we definitely did back then.)

I prefer Code Red Mountain Dew if I’m going to drink it, Joey is a purist and likes the “real” kind. But, because he was trying to impress this girl he liked, he threw an entire 24 pack of Code Red into the cart at Wal-Mart. (It would be many more months before I discovered just how much he doesn’t like Code Red.)

We meandered through the aisles of Wal-Mart, pointing and giggling as we spotted people from school. In no time at all we had seen five classmates and I had lost. I kept trying to distract Joey from noticing others, and I directed him into the toy aisle.

“What’s that thing you can solve really fast?” I asked.

“Oh, a Rubik’s cube?” Joey said.

“That. Can you teach me how?” I asked.

I was totally flirting again. I didn’t care how to solve a Rubik’s cube any more than I care about geometry theorems, but it seemed like a perfect opportunity to get Joey to hang out with me more.

“Of course I can teach you,” Joey said. I thought I noticed his head inflate a little bit.

He stopped in front of the Rubik’s cube display and pulled one down, throwing it in the cart. “You need one to work on over the summer,” he said.

“Can’t I just borrow one of yours?” I asked. He had just told me the day before that he had five at school and an entire box at his parents’ house.

“No, most of them are worn out. You need your own,” He insisted.

“Wait, they’re worn out but you still keep them?” I said. (I have this problem with getting rid of stuff that hasn’t been used in six months…)

“Each one is different!” He defended himself. “Oh, there are three more people from school. I win.”

I dug five dollars out of my pocket and handed it to him, he, in turn, bought my Rubik’s cube.

“Your first lesson is tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll come over after class, before I go to work.”

I was pulling it out of its packaging, which I stuffed in a trash can we walked past on the way to the car, and twisting it around to mix it up.

“Sounds good. I’ll be home all evening. Oh, while you’re over do you think you could look at my weed whacker? I couldn’t get it start last time I tried. The neighbors will probably start gossiping about the state of my yard if I don’t do something about it soon.”

“No problem. Are you sure it has gas in it?”

“I know how to use a weed whacker,” I deadpanned. “You just watch it or I’ll use it on you.”

In no time at all Joey had dropped me back off at my little beige house on the east side of Des Moines. He waited until he saw that I was inside, with the door shut and locked tightly behind me, before pulling out into the dark.

I climbed the steep steps to my room and went through all of my clothes three times trying to find the best outfit to wear to the first day of our summer class. We were planning to sit together so I had to look my best.

To be continued…