Engagement Rings and Hot-Tub Flings
(July 10-11, 2016)
7: The Future Is on the Way
From the Journals of Dipper Pines: Sunday, July 10: I woke up this morning to see Wendy, still asleep, lying on her stomach. She'd tossed back the flap of her sleeping bag—they really are kind of hot, even if the nights here are cool. Anyway, she had bared her shoulders down to about the middle of her back. She was wearing a vest-type undershirt, and it had crept up, so a lot of her was bare.
She was sleeping with her cheek on her folded arm, a little smile on her freckled face. She looked so pretty in the early light that seeped into the tent. I slipped out of my bag as quietly as I could, got dressed and did a few other things, and then I cooked breakfast for us. Well, really just boiled some water for instant coffee and started a pot of oatmeal mix, with cinnamon, brown sugar, chopped dried cranberries, and walnuts.
I heard her stirring, and she came out of the tent in a few minutes, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Smells good," she said. She was wearing just the black undershirt and green panties. But she noticed me noticing, and she pulled on her jeans with an impish grin. "There, now you can simmer down. You sleep OK?"
"Really good," I told her. There is nothing so peaceful as a night sleeping next to a girl you love, I guess. We settled down and had our breakfast, though the instant coffee wasn't all that great, and then we cleaned up the pots, mugs, bowls, and spoons. There were no leftovers to bury.
"OK," Wendy said, "you already had breakfast going, so that's all right, but you're not getting out of our morning exercise. Let's fold up the camp, and we'll hike back to the car, taking the long way around."
As we did, I asked her, "Who owns this?"
"The land? Nobody, I guess. Back in the thirties, a couple of lumber companies bought up a lot of the Valley, but they moved on and kind of deeded their land back to the county. Now when Dad logs in the Valley, he leases the rights from the county."
"I wish we could buy it," I said. "Build a little cabin back in here, have the hot spring and the beaver pond and the falls and all."
"Not very convenient," Wendy said. "No electricity, no plumbing, real bad cell phone reception, even. We'd be better off closer into town."
"Well," I said as we rolled up the tent, "Grunkle Ford has his zero-point energy thing, so if he'd let us have a power cube, that would take care of electricity, and with electricity we could pump water in from the source of Ghost Falls, probably."
"You're gonna have to sell me on that one," Wendy teased. "And I don't think you can! I lived all my life in a log cabin, remember. Had enough of that for a long time. That everything? OK, let's pack it out. Gonna take us two hours, the way I got planned! Not a run, but a seven-mile hike."
We set off around six-thirty in the morning, and she didn't let me slack off, either. It was at least as good a workout as a three- or four-mile run. When we were on the final leg, blazing a whole new trail back toward the logging road and her car, she gave me some news: "Been meaning to tell you, Dipper. I'm leaving home in September."
"What?" I asked. I have to admit, I immediately got my hopes up. I mean, I've fantasized about her moving to Piedmont before. "Why?" I asked.
"'Cuz I'm nineteen. 'Cuz I'm out of school. And my dad thinks it's time I was out on my own. We had this talk—anyway, it's nothing serious, I mean I'm not getting kicked out, there's no big family break-up. I just want, you know, to have a little independence. So for the next year I'm gonna rent a room, continue to work at the Shack, and take my evening college courses. By the time we start at Western Alliance, I'll have a full year of credits, thirty-three hours."
"Double-check to make sure they all transfer," I warned her.
"Got that taken care of. I have a temporary advisor at WA, and I check everything through him. I'm sticking to the basics for a freshman science major—two English comps, a lit, three maths, history, basic sciences, and so on. Once I start the program, I'll concentrate on environmental, biology, and forestry courses. Why are you looking at me funny?"
"You're talking like a college student! And I remember how you used to brag about slacking off in high school."
She laughed. "Yeah, that was before I got serious, dork! Anyway, by the time we start, I ought to be able to pull the minimum—twelve hours a term—even if I have to work on the side. If I don't, I can do fifteen to eighteen hours a semester, full-time."
"You won't have to work," I told her.
"We'll see. I'm applying for scholarships, but I'll bet lots of other people with academics better'n mine are applying, too. Anyway, time to worry about all that during the coming year, Dip."
I asked, "Have you already got a place to live?"
"Well, yeah," she said. "This nice couple has a spare bedroom that they're willing to let me rent for a nice price. Dollar a month."
"A dollar a—" I started. Then I laughed. "Grunkle Stan and Sheila!"
"Close! Melody and Soos. They say I can bunk in Stanford's old bedroom. Remember when Soos found that door?"
"Oh, yeah," I said. "The room had the electron carpet on the floor. That thing was a big headache!"
"Well, that'll be my home base for the next year, startin' in September. Leaves me close enough to home to run over if Dad or the boys need me, but lets me get out of the house, too. And I'll work in the Shack up until we close at the end of November, then again starting in April, and during the winter, I'll help out around the house and house-sit in the deep part of winter when we're closed."
"That's not too shabby," I admitted. "Hey, there's the logging road!"
"Told you." My Lumberjack Girl had led us through a hilly, trackless woods, where you couldn't see more than fifty feet in any direction because of the trees, and had brought us out within sight of the Dodge Dart. I had a feeling she was going to do just fine as a forestry major.
They got back so early that Wendy and Dipper dropped in for services at the small country church where her family always went. It was a small congregation, only about fifty people—though with Manly Dan in a pew, it looked larger—and though everyone was clean and presentable, no one really dressed up, even Dr. Gaspell, the kindly-looking, balding minister, who wore a white shirt and blue tie, but no suit jacket.
They began with a few hymns, old ones that even Dipper knew (back in Piedmont his mom and dad had taken the twins to church and/or synagogue only ten times a year or so). Dan boomed along in a bass that made the stained-glass windows rattle. An usher passed a collection plate, and Dipper dropped in some money. Then Dr. Gaspell said a prayer and read the Scripture for the morning—from Isaiah 43—and then gave a sermon of reassurance, the keynote of which was "do not fear." It concluded with another prayer, and then for a few minutes the congregation socialized.
"You kids have a good time on your camping trip?" Dan rumbled.
"Yes, sir," Dipper said. "And we behaved ourselves."
"When I want to know that, I'll ask you," Dan said, but he had a twinkle in his eye. "You want to ask me anything, son?"
"Later on?" Dipper said. "Yes, I do, but—not today. Later on, if that's all right."
"All right with me," Dan said. "Wendy, you comin' home?"
"After I drop Dipper off. But remember, Dad, Dip and me are going shopping tomorrow. I may be late."
"That's all right, me and the boys will go out for dinner," Dan said. "I got no big jobs on tomorrow, so I'll just stay home and work on all the accounts. You two be careful on the highway, you hear? Dipper, you let her drive, all right?"
"Yes, sir," Dipper said.
"And you don't have to call me 'sir.'"
Dipper swallowed. "Sir, somehow I do. Maybe not after—uh, later, but right now—"
"I guess I can stand it," Dan said, grinning.
Dr. Gaspell stopped by. "Dipper! Good to see you again. How is Mabel?"
That was astonishing, since Dipper and Mabel hadn't even seen Dr. Gaspell since the day Robbie and Tambry got married—yet the little man remembered. "She's well, thank you," Dipper said.
"Please, you and Mabel come back and visit us," the minister said.
"I'll ask her," Dipper promised.
They went on to the Shack and got there in time for lunch. Soos, Melody, Abuelita, and the children had just returned from Mass. Mabel was off somewhere with Teek, so Wendy helped Abuelita prepare lunch, crema calabaza (a thick, creamy pumpkin soup), a pasta dish with shell macaroni, mixed vegetables, and salsa, and the main course of shredded chicken in more red sauce with beans, accompanied by Abuelita's hand-made tortillas. Dessert was sopapillas, plus bananas in cream.
It was a heavier meal than usual for Dipper, but he took small portions and found everything delicious, even the pumpkin soup. After clean-up, in the early afternoon, Wendy and Dipper took Little Soos out onto the lawn, where he and his sister played with each other. Waddles and Widdles noticed them and sauntered over and let Little Soos ride them. He yelped with glee.
Later still, Wendy and Dipper finalized their plans. "We're gonna run," Wendy warned him. "You be up and dressed by six-thirty! We'll take our run downtown and back, shower, and have breakfast around eight. Then we'll take off for Portland. How many stores are we looking at?"
"I've got a list of six," Dipper told her. "I'd like you to pick out at least one style from each store that you like. Then I'll work with my budget and all and do our halfway-surprise when I give you the finished product."
"Sounds like you're building me a model plane," she teased.
"I just want to make sure it'll be one you like," he told her.
Wendy left for home in the late afternoon. Then half an hour later, Mabel and Teek showed up—they had been playing mini-golf, but not at the local mini-golf place because some of the Lilliputtians still harbored a grudge. While Mabel freshened up, Teek found some time to talk to Dipper.
He had some idea—from Mabel, of course, no secrets safe around her—of what Dipper and Wendy were planning, and he asked Dipper's advice for a project of his own.
"A promise ring?" Dipper asked. He hadn't ever heard of one.
"Kind of a pre-engagement ring," Teek explained. "A commitment, you know. Something that promises while we're apart, I won't forget her or get distracted or anything." He showed Dipper the two stones.
"Very nice," Dipper said. So I know one is a peridot, and the blue one is—what is it?"
"A sapphire," Teek said. "Not a star sapphire or anything. The peridot comes from Arizona, and the sapphire from North Carolina, I think. They're just semi-precious quality, but—"
"Birthstones!" Dipper realized. "What is sapphire? September, isn't it?"
"I think so, but it can be for April, too. That's when my birthday is. Uh—April first." He gave Dipper a crooked smile and a shrug. "Yeah, I know. I've lived with the joke ever since I started school."
"Everybody has to be born on some day," Dipper said, grinning. "April first is as good as any other." He handed the stones back to Teek. "Well, these are pretty, so now all you need is a ring."
"Do you know Mabel's ring size?" Teek asked. "I want to surprise her."
"I think she takes a seven," he said. "But I can sneak one of her rings out of her jewelry box and let you borrow it. The jeweler can tell you."
"Thanks," Teek said. He hesitated. "Do—do you think she'll accept it?"
"The promise ring? Yeah, I'll bet she will," Dipper said. "I think she'll be really happy to get it."
"That's a relief," Teek said. "Uh—silver or gold?"
"Silver for this one," Dipper said. "Maybe gold for the engagement ring later on, but with these two colors, the blue and the green, I think silver would be great. Oh, and don't make it over-fancy. Mabel saves the fancy for her sweaters!"
"Gotcha," Teek said.
"Here you are!" Mabel had visited her pigs and came bursting in on Teek and Dipper in the parlor. "What are you boys doing, cooking up some dark scheme?"
"You'll find out," Dipper said.
"Spread out!" They had been sitting on the sofa, but they had to move farther apart as Mabel threw herself between them. "Good! This place is getting dull. Time for some adventure! So what's the plan?"
"It's one full of danger," Dipper said. "Tomorrow, just Wendy and me—just the two of us—with no help from anybody—we're gonna go shopping."
"Boo!" Mabel said, though she was smiling. "I wanna see what you get as soon as you come home again."
"I'll remember that," Dipper promised. Since they were only window-shopping, that was a safe enough thing to pledge, he thought.
He didn't really anticipate any serious complications. But then—we never do, do we?