The friends gathered at Charlie's parents' house, where there appeared to be a tacit agreement to avoid the topic of Schroeder and Patty's scandalous behavior at the Thanksgiving party. Since nearly all of their friends were what Shermy called "Midwestern Lutherans," the subject was ignored. Patty and Schroeder were both present, although sitting apart. Patty and Shermy held hands affectionately while Schroeder, avoiding her eyes, sat close to Linus. They had come to terms about their differences and Linus once again counted Schroeder as a friend.
Charlie sat on the sofa in his parents' living room, while Violet sat contentedly at his side. Sally, Linus and Schroeder ranged themselves around the room in armchairs and in some chairs brought from the dining room. Frieda, drifting away from "Pig-Pen," inched closer to Linus. They exchanged glances throughout the evening. Coffee cups filled and empty were scattered on any available surface.
"I'll have to shove off in a week or so," Charlie said, holding hands with his adoring Violet. "I'm afraid I probably won't be back in time for Christmas."
"We'll miss you son," his father said for all of them, "but you have a duty to do."
Charlie's father, a tall, thin middle-aged man who resembled a kindly pharmacist, smiled proudly and patted his son's shoulder, encouraging him. His business, a barber shop which had started as a small solitary, one-chair operation, had burgeoned into a four shop "empire," as he liked to call it.
"How about the wedding?" Linus asked, eyes shining eagerly. He couldn't wait to be best man.
"Nothing's settled yet," Charlie said. "I don't know when I can get the time to come back for it."
"Don't worry, Charlie," Violet said. "Our parents and I'll start to work on the plans and we'll be ready when you say so," she said, sliding closer to him. "You let us know when we can plan the date, okay?"
His kiss was his answer.
"You're going to let us help too, aren't you?" Patty said her eyes eager and wide. Nothing so pleased a woman as planning a wedding; another man tamed, another girl secured. "Just tell us what we can do. We'd be glad to do anything, wouldn't we, Shermy?"
Shermy nodded, as if his input was indispensable.
"We'll stay in touch," Charlie said, smiling to his friends.
"I can round up enough suckers to be the groomsmen," Shermy assured him. "There're plenty of guys, including all of us here, who'd be glad to be in on it."
"Actually, I'd prefer if it were only you guys," Charlie said. "I'd rather do this with just my best friends."
"Anything you say, pal," Shermy said.
"Charlie," Schroeder said, "I can't promise anything, but I might be able to persuade some of the Orchestra's musicians to play at the wedding."
"That'd be great Schroeder," Charlie said, smiling. "If they'd do it, thank them for me."
The serious talk of plans and arrangements withered away, and conversation turned toward the more cordial.
"Linus," Patty asked with a hopeful glance, "who was that attractive girl you brought to Thanksgiving? She seems very nice. Are you two getting serious?"
"Don't break out the rice, yet," Linus said, somewhat uncomfortable.
"Her name's Linda Avery. She helps me sometimes, editing my manuscripts, but we're just friends." Linus, glancing Frieda's way, hoped she'd heard. From her expression, she had.
Patty seemed disappointed but she smiled anyway.
"Careful my friend," Schroeder warned, "from such friendships dangerous things can happen!"
Schroeder's jest passed as empty wit for most of those present. Only Linus, who'd gotten it from Lucy herself, and Patty, who from her confidences with Schroeder had long suspected, knew the source of his warning. Violet's intervention on Lucy's behalf had set the whole thing in motion, but she hadn't heard any more from Schroeder or Lucy, and so she didn't know it had progressed so far. Charlie hadn't a clue, as Violet didn't divulge her meeting with Lucy, owing to his lingering hostility to her. He considered the relationship ancient history, as Schroeder had assured him in the bar of the Loaf of Rye.
"I always think it's better when you start off as friends," Patty said, helpfully. She wasn't giving up on another wedding.
"Shermy and I started out as friends. In fact, I don't think I actually ever went out with anyone else."
"When you've found what you're looking for," Shermy said merrily, "why keep looking? Right, my little Love Biscuit?" Patty gave Shermy a tolerant, though brittle smile. She poked him, but leaned lovingly on his shoulder.
Schroeder fidgeted uncomfortably. The topic of childhood romances unnerved him. He knew why Patty had endorsed it; she knew all about him and Lucy, and she was meddling again, hoping for the best. Charlie and Violet, for their own reasons, also saw the benefits of early relationships. Everyone knew that before their bitter breakup Schroeder and Lucy had been, as the saying went, "childhood sweethearts," but few cared to speak of it, either because they didn't know things had changed, or because they did. In any case, no one wanted to bring it up.
Schroeder had been careful not to invite Lucy when he knew Charlie would be present, for several good reasons.
In the first place, he didn't know whom it would be the worse for. He knew Charlie still held a grudge against Lucy, and that it would upset him to see her with Schroeder. It was unclear to him whether Lucy's feelings of hostility and contempt for Charlie had mellowed or not. Schroeder had never talked directly about it with her, and Lucy always evaded his few attempts to draw her out. Either way, Schroeder found it prudent to keep them apart.
His relationship with Lucy continued along the same path. As they grew closer, the bitterness of the past fell away, and their experience in the world allowed them to feel more comfortable in each other's presence. Lucy had softened as much as her nature would permit, and their conversations became less combative. Schroeder gave himself permission to be openly affectionate to her, and resisted the sometimes irresistible urge to sarcasm and belittling wisecracks.
The night they both dreaded and anticipated soon came, and it soothed and satisfied them equally. Schroeder invited Lucy to his suite for drinks and an intimate dinner which he prepared himself, and by mutual consent they made love. Later, while they basked in the warm afterglow, their sentiments began to diverge.
For Lucy, it was a woman's realizing of a young girl's dream, a moment that erased the hurts of the past. The bliss of their former adolescent intimacy had been obliterated by their bitter parting, but that had now been redressed. The man she loved now truly loved her. She felt safe and cared for.
For Schroeder, the moment, and the sentiments were different. With his previous dalliances, casual recreational sex was mutually understood to lead nowhere, but not for this woman. Schroeder realized that last night meant something deeper, more personal, to Lucy. It was a fateful step, a serious, inescapable commitment, and he could feel the noose tightening. While he didn't want to be free of it, Schroeder did want to see it loosened.
"I want to thank you for last night," Lucy said the next morning, as they awoke together. The look on Lucy's face deluded Schroeder into forgetting he had ever thought her unbearable.
"It was so lovely. I can't tell you how it made me feel!" She snuggled closer, smiling happily.
Schroeder scrambled out of the bed and slipped on a robe, feeling vulnerable.
"I'm glad," he said, meaning it. "I'd wanted to do it for 'guy' reasons," she smiled again, following him, "but I thought we should wait. I wanted to make love to you when I was 'in love.' So, last night was the perfect time."
He hoped she would understand.
She did. Lucy swung her long legs around and off the mattress, and placed her feet on the carpet. She stood and crossed to him.
"And I love you, too, Schroeder. I didn't think it was possible for me to ever feel that way again, but I do."
"And, for me!" he joked, wryly. "What were the odds?"
"Not very good, at the beginning."
He wrapped Lucy's body from behind her in one of his robes, embracing her as she turned around and he tied the sash.
He grinned, reflectively.
"I really only thought about just seeing you again," Lucy said. "I never expected this; I never expected that we could go this far!"
"With many women, this very far for me. For most of them, this is as far as I can go."
A sudden chill filled the morning air.
"And for me? How far will you go for me, Schroeder?" she asked.
"One step at a time, Lucy," he said, stepping back. "Last night was perfect, you agree?"
"Yes," she said, touching his arm. "I'd say it was perfect." Lucy withdrew her hand when she found him unresponsive.
"Well, I don't think we should rush things. The next few steps will be treacherous. Many couples who thought they loved each other crash on the rocks ahead."
"Like us," she reminded him.
"That was the past, Lucy. We're different now." He put his hands on her shoulders, but she turned away.
"I know I am. Are you?"
He tried to come closer, but she retreated from his grasp.
"Lucy, you don't have to protect yourself from me." Schroeder sensed her defensiveness growing. So was his own.
"I asked you a question, Schroeder; are you different now?" she asked, circling him, keeping her distance. "You just said this was as far as you could go. Is it?"
"I honestly don't know Lucy," he said truthfully. "I know I don't want it to be."
"Neither do I, but a minute ago I said that I loved you, Schroeder. So did you. I meant what I said; did you?"
Schroeder felt cornered.
"You know I did."
He reached out his hands and spread them, frustrated.
"What do you want from me, Lucy?" he demanded.
"I want you to tell me something that will give me hope," she said, insistently. "Saying you cared for me got me into your bed, just like all the others, didn't it?"
Schroeder looked hurt.
"Lucy, you mustn't think that's why I said it!"
"Then tell me something I can depend on! Tell me something more reassuring than how great I am in the sack!" Her words, hurt, cutting, and bitter, touched him deeply.
"That's not how I think of you!"
"Spare me your flattery!" she said with scorn, clenching her fists. "I asked you a question, Schroeder; is this as far as you can go? Is this as far as we go?"
"What are you asking of me, Lucy?" He asked lamely, walking around, walking away. "What do you want us to do? Do you want us to live together?"
Lucy's face filled with offended rage.
"I will not be your 'woman,' Schroeder!" she said emphatically.
"So then…what?" He avoided her piercing eyes and ran his trembling fingers through his blonde hair. "What do you want? Are you saying you want to get married or something?"
"Yes, Schroeder," she answered, losing patience. Lucy lowered her voice, struggling to regain control.
"You told me you loved me; I said I love you! I want to get married!"
Her next words chilled him.
"Why don't you?" She began to cry.
Schroeder went into mild panic at her tears.
"I don't think I can go through with it. I don't want to hurt you, Lucy." He answered, weakly.
Lucy gestured with both hands to the tears streaming down her face.
"What do you think this is?"
Schroeder said nothing, bowing his head. He stood there wordless, motionless and drained of life.
Lucy threw off the robe, standing nude in the middle of the room. She began wrathfully to dress from nothing in front of him as if daring, or begging him to stop her, prevent her from walking out. In a boiling rage she pulled on her lingerie, her dark green slacks and bright yellow blouse. When he made no move to check her, Lucy belligerently brushed her hair and left without a word or a look back, slamming the door behind her.
Schroeder stood immobile throughout. After she'd gone, he looked at his wretched, frustrated reflection in the mirror. He saw a young man wanting to be loved, but throwing his best chance for it away, seeing her affection for him slipping away like sand between his fingers. He crossed the room to the dresser where a row of liquor bottles stood. He stared at them, preoccupied.
Patty sat at her computer, typing furiously to finish her last file. Suddenly, the phone rang. Before she picked up, she saw Schroeder's name on the caller ID.
"Patty, I need to talk to you; can you come?"
"Yes, the kids are with mother. What's the matter, Schroeder? You sound terrible!"
"I feel terrible, Patty. I need to talk to you."
"Where are you?"
"My place. Lucy just left."
"Lucy?" Patty said, worried. "What's happened?"
"She's gone. I blew it, Patty!"
"Oh no, Schroeder! I'm so sorry!" she cried. "I'll be there in a few minutes."
Patty reached Schroeder's suite in no time. She burst through the door after he'd buzzed her up, only to find him slumped over in a chair.
"I came as soon as I could."
Patty stood beside him and touched his hand. She looked on the table next to him, where a bottle stood with a glass beside it. The bottle though open was nearly full. The glass contained the missing remains of the whiskey from the bottle.
Well, at least he's still sober.
He looked up with red eyes, defeated and heartbroken.
"I failed her, Patty. We're finished."
"You're not finished, Schroeder," she said eagerly hopeful. "If you really care for her, you can work through it; you can fix this." She sat next to him, coming closer.
"I couldn't do it," he lamented, shaking his tousled head. "I wanted her to stay; she waited for me to ask her to stay, to say something, but I wouldn't."
Patty leaned down to him where he'd slumped over.
"Why not? Why couldn't you?"
He shook his head.
"She wants to marry me, can you believe that?" Schroeder chuckled nervously. He grinned a painful grin. Patty's nearness alarmed him, and he sidled away.
"Lucy wants to marry me, Patty, and I couldn't give her any hope!" he growled.
"She stormed off, and she wanted me to stop her, but I sent her away crying. What a louse I am!" He ran his hands through his hair again and sat up.
"But you still love her, don't you?" Patty put her hand dangerously on his face, turning it to her.
"Tell me the truth, Schroeder. You love her, don't you?" Her blue eyes looked worried.
"Yes, Patty I do!" He sprang to his feet to break the electric connection to Patty's hand. He turned away, and then came back to face her.
"I love her, but that's now." He pointed to the door, to the future.
"What about later? Do I have what it takes to go the distance? I don't know the answer to that, Patty. I really don't, and I'd do anything to keep from hurting her."
"You told me that Lucy just ran out of here crying," Patty said. "What was that? Don't you think that hurt her?"
"I know it did, but don't you see?" he demanded, frustrated.
"If I could do that, Patty, if I could hurt Lucy so easily and just let her walk out without pleading with her to stay, and this early, how can I be expected to maintain a relationship, let alone-for God's sake!-let alone to get married and stay married. It's hopeless!" He shook his head and slumped back down on the sofa, lethargic and defeated.
"I guess it's over."
The silence, and its tension, became intense.
Patty's blue eyes narrowed, incensed. She stood up, looming over him.
"What's the matter with you!" she demanded, throwing her arms up, exasperated. Schroeder jumped, as if electrically shocked.
"What's-?"
"Are you crazy?" Patty shouted, leaning closer to him.
"The woman you love runs out of here crying, and you're just gonna sit there? You're having trouble in a relationship, so you just give up? That's easier than fighting for it, though, isn't it? How old are you, Schroeder? How long do you really think you can keep this up? You're a man, aren't you? Act like one!"
"Look at you," she continued, disgusted, as he stared up at her, stricken.
"Look at your life, Schroeder. You can do whatever you like; you can live as you please, without a care in the world. You have a job that you love, with no responsibilities, except to show up on time for rehearsals. The rest of the time, you can drink yourself into oblivion, and sleep around with whatever comes home with you."
Patty's voice brimmed with a sarcastic, unsympathetic edge Schroeder had never heard. Gone was the sweet, loving friend, and in her place stood a scowling, scolding martinet, thrusting her finger in his face and waggling it like a weapon.
"Meanwhile, your agent pays all of your bills, and you just play your way through life! I feel so sorry for you, Schroeder!"
"Hey!" he said, wincing from the attack, "whatever happened to arm-around-the-shoulder sympathy?"
"Sympathy?" she said, scornfully. "You don't deserve sympathy, you deserve contempt! You're not just a fool, Schroeder, you're a coward.
"All your clever drollery only hides the fact that you're afraid. You're afraid to show your true feelings, afraid to grow up. You hid behind your piano all those years, and now you're hiding behind your fear, but you can't do that forever. Fear won't protect you anymore from the three things that frighten you the most."
Schroeder stood up, faced Patty and hoped his looming physical presence would weaken her attack.
"Fear?" he asked, rebounding from her relentless badgering. "You think I'm afraid, Patty? Of what; of whom? Lucy?"
Patty rose to her feet, looking up to face him.
"Yes, you are, Schroeder."
"Why should I be afraid of Lucy?"
"Oh, you're afraid of Lucy all right, Schroeder," Patty said, "but not the way you think.
"You're not afraid of her anger, Schroeder, you're afraid of her love. You're afraid of Lucy because you love her too, and you're too much of a coward to admit it, even to yourself. And why? Because you know that with love comes commitment, and you can't bear to be bound to anyone! And that's not all. You're afraid of a lot more than her. You know that, but you can't face the truth."
"I told you, it's not her; it's that I don't think I can do a long-term relationship," he said, feebly. He turned away.
"No, Schroeder," Patty said, shaking her head vigorously.
"That's just a cop-out. That's not what you're afraid of at all. You're not afraid of a failed marriage to her, you're afraid of a successful one."
Patty fixed a maternal glare at her friend.
"You can't allow yourself to be married to the woman you really love. It'll put an end to all your pleasant little fantasies of permanent adolescence. You like being a kid, you like playing with people; you always have. You think that you're older now, more experienced and sophisticated than you were when you were a smart-aleck, aloof child, but you really haven't grown an inch. To grow up and accept a truly adult relationship, that's what terrifies you."
"Is that what you think?" His defiant attitude bordered on hostile.
"That's what I know," she said, confidently.
"You told me as much, weeks ago. You love her, Schroeder, but you want to stay free, happy, young and single, even at the expense of your own real happiness. I feel so sorry for you."
Schroeder felt battered by Patty's scolding, and he seemed ready to surrender.
"Do you have any more pins to stick in me? I'm beginning to be sorry I called you."
"Just two more, my boy," she said, with maternal scorn, "and then I'll leave you to your own miserable company. You're not only a coward, Schroeder, but you're a hypocrite as well."
"I'm a hypocrite now," he said with disdain. "Tell me more."
"Ever since Shermy and I were married and started our family, your butter-knife wit has been cutting at us," Patty said, bristling at the memory.
Schroeder suddenly had the expression of a culprit caught.
"Did you think we didn't know? You mock us, our house, your friends, even my children, and I know as well as I know you that it's all a fraud. It's what you fear, Schroeder, but it's also what you really want."
Schroeder began to feel uneasily persuaded by Patty's onslaught.
"So, now I'm a fraud, too." He tried to leer defiantly, but he trembled instead.
"Of the worst kind," she said.
"You laugh at the very idea of home, children, and spouse, as if it's beneath you. Too boring, you think, too 'bourgeois'. But I know that you envy my marriage Schroeder, and I know that you love my children."
Patty's voice, so sharp up to now, softened. She couldn't think of her children without tenderness.
"I've seen you with them," she said, smiling. "The look on your face when you watch them playing or sleeping tells me everything. You love my children, and you've wanted a home and a family of your own, even before you reconciled with Lucy. You only mock them and ridicule them to cover your true feelings. You're a fraud, Schroeder."
Patty turned dismissively to walk away. Schroeder held up his hand to stay her.
"Wait a minute! You said I was afraid of three things," he reminded her. "Before you go, Mrs. Brooks, you'll have to tell me what else I secretly love, what I'm also afraid of."
Patty glared at him fearlessly.
"Simple, Schroeder; you're afraid of me."
"Afraid of you?" he scoffed, startled. "Why should I be afraid of you, Patty?"
"You've been denying your feelings, but I know why, and it's all right."
"W-what feelings?" His stomach began to knot up. His uneasiness in Patty's presence began to build.
Patty's accusation hit him right between the eyes.
"You're afraid of me Schroeder, because you love me."
For a moment, Schroeder considered bolting for the door. He could feel his face turning white as the blood fled from it. Terrified of what would come to light in the next few minutes, he definitely didn't want to face it.
"Love…you?" Schroeder's voice trembled perceptibly.
"Yes, Schroeder," she said softly, taking his hand. "I've known it for some time, and I understand it, because I love you, too!" Patty resumed sitting beside Schroeder, causing him a slow panic.
The urge to flee surged up again. Schroeder shuddered as he spoke.
"Patty," he said, looking away, "I want you to know that I…never for a moment! I don't… know what to say!" he babbled, horrified.
Patty leaned closer to him, took his shaky hands and spoke to him in a low, soothing voice.
Trying to turn away again, Schroeder couldn't avoid her compassionate blue eyes. Her soft, loving voice quieted his queasy anguish.
"Schroeder, don't feel guilty," she said. Her voice, low and warm, tried to reassure him, and for the first time in many years, Schroeder felt younger than Patty.
"Don't feel ashamed. I've known you all my life. We grew up together, and I know you completely. I can understand how you feel because as I said, I feel the same way."
Schroeder blinked, looking guilty and wretched.
"You love me, Patty? How could you love someone like me?" It had been an effort to get the words out.
"For the same reason that you love me; that's how I knew it. Not sexually," she said, shaking her head. "I know you've never tried to imagine me naked, thank goodness! And I haven't with you, either. I also know you don't love me intellectually, because you don't think I even have a brain!"
"I'm beginning to think that I'm the one who's brainless," he said, trying to dispel the mood. Still in fading denial, Schroeder fearfully tried to charm his way out of his dilemma. He struggled to free his hands, but Patty held them tightly.
"All right, I'll play along," he said, nodding. "So, if I don't respect your mind, and I don't crave your body, Mrs. Brooks, what have you got going for you? What is there about you that I could possibly love?"
Patty took his hand and placed it over her heart.
"It was here I first felt the love I have for you, and it's in your own heart that you feel it for me, Schroeder. There's something decent and honorable in you that I love very much. You feel love for me on a purely human level, as I do for you. You were ashamed, because you thought it was something else.
"That's how little you know people. You think you can only know people as friends or lovers, people to admire or to crave. I can wish the best for you, feel your suffering and rejoice in your happiness, I can love you, Schroeder, and never be afraid to be alone with you, and it's because I know you feel the same way."
Schroeder listened, fascinated. Patty had found a way to shut him up.
"When Shermy and I were married, you were the first one to accept our invitation. When my babies were born, you visited me in the hospital, and you even came with me when I brought them home. Even though you complained and wisecracked the whole time to cover your true feelings, you were there. You love me on a human level, and I love you the same way, so it's okay."
"And Shermy?" The tremble in his voice had returned.
"He knows all of this," she said, "He's my husband and we have no secrets. He understands and he always has."
Schroeder looked into Patty's gleaming blue eyes and he was moved beyond his ability to express.
"I don't deserve a friend like you," he said, earnestly.
"Maybe not, but you're stuck with me!" she said, cheerfully. Patty gathered him into her warm embrace. For a lovely moment they met emotionally and hugged at that level. Schroeder felt so moved, he almost wept. After the rush of emotion swept over him, Schroeder was able to think clearly again. He shook his head, and smiled at Patty, accepting her scolding.
Schroeder released Patty and stood up. He helped her to her feet, draping his arm around her waist.
"How do you feel now, Schroeder?" Patty laid her head on his shoulder.
He sighed deeply, a jubilant sigh of relief.
"I feel free, Patty. I feel free of all the shame I've been carrying. It feels good!"
Their eyes met, and they smiled.
"You're a decent sort; you just needed a nudge in the right direction."
"Now," he said seriously, "what do I do about Lucy?"
"Schroeder, you know the answer to that. You've got to go to her and beg her for forgiveness, and after that, you've got one more question to ask her!"
"You mean…?"
"Don't waste any more time!"
"I'll do it!" He felt Patty's restraining arm and he turned to her, quizzically.
"Schroeder, you may have some trouble there," she warned.
"Trouble?"
"Yes," she said, nodding.
"Lucy may have changed because of your feelings for her, but there are still a lot of people who can't stand her. You'll need to fix that."
"If someone doesn't like Lucy, I don't care!" he said, with his last trace of daring. "I'm going to be with Lucy, if she'll have me, and whoever can't be happy for us, screw 'em!"
"Even Charlie?"
"Charlie? Oh, I forgot about that." Schroeder looked grim. "I suppose he still despises her?"
"Yes, Lucy hurt him badly, and I don't think he's over it. Has Lucy changed her feelings about him?"
"I really don't know. We haven't talked about Charlie. Our relationship has already had enough drama; I didn't think it wise to invite any more."
"If he and Lucy can't get over this, you're going to have a problem, first with Charlie's wedding, and then with Charlie."
"Yes," he considered, deeply troubled, "if I marry Lucy, Charlie'll never come to see us, and if I stay friendly with him, she may feel left out, and be hurt."
"I still think you should try to get Lucy back first," Patty said, gathering her purse, preparing to leave. "She loves you, and you have to convince her that you love her."
"I will, don't worry," he said, determined.
"I'm sure of that, Schroeder."
"Patty," he said, with a woebegone, apologetic look, "I'm really sorry about all the rotten things I've said about you, and thought about you. Not only were you right, but you were friend enough to tell me."
"It was fun to pound you like that." She smiled, and so did he.
"I was so ashamed to think that I loved you, you know, that way."
"It's all right. We understand each other now, don't we?"
Schroeder took Patty's hands. He stared at her, a trace of a roguish smile on his face as an idea came to him.
She saw it, and looked puzzled.
"What?"
"Do you think Shermy would mind if I kissed you Patty, I mean really kissed you, just once?"
She smiled, setting the terms.
"Just friends?"
"Just friends," he agreed.
Schroeder took her in his arms, and she went along. They kissed for a short moment, sighing as they exorcised their shared guilt. Patty clung to him, secure in her dear friend's protective arms.
"God, I love you, Mrs. Brooks!" He released her, and they stood, happily looking at each other. Patty picked up her purse.
"Goodbye, Schroeder. I'll talk to you soon."
"Goodbye, Patty. Give Shermy my best."