I got ready and started to get into my car and then froze. Picking a girl up was one thing but I knew her parents were there and I wasn't sure how meeting them was going to go and it would make a worse impression if I just parked out front and honked the horn. I had no idea what Mr. and Mrs. Cohen would be expecting but I doubted she had gone out of her way to tell them about me. Hell, even girls from the neighborhood wouldn't have told their folks they was seeing me, if they had decent folks that was. Of course most girls from the neighborhood didn't really have anyone to answer to. They weren't like Joanie. I just couldn't bring myself to get in the car. I liked to make people think I wasn't scared of anything and there's plenty that scares other people that don't scare me. I grew up getting hit and there's worse things than that so I never feared a fight and juvie just meant more steady meals than anything I'd have gotten at home so I really never feared getting into trouble. If not for Al giving me a chance at living on my own and taking care of myself, I wouldn't have feared prison either. Four hots and a cot can make a whole lot of things more tolerable.
But I did have Al and I did have my own place and I did have enough money to feed myself and see to my needs and prison was something to fear by then. I wouldn't admit that to anyone-well, maybe I would to Joanie or Al or Emma but no one else. I had a reputation to live up to. Parents raising good kids like Joanie could make things pretty hard on a guy like me. Of course there was one thing they could do worse than make trouble and get me sent up the river, they could keep us apart. In the span of just a couple of days, I had gone from sworn off of women entirely to fearing being kept from her more than I feared death. I know that sounds corny and sappy but I'm an old man now and I just don't care. There's far worse things a man can do than fall in love and things worth much harsher judgment.
I wanted to go to her but I was just too scared to. Instead I walked around the corner to Al's house. It was a little craftsman style house-not that I knew at the time what it was called- with a porch and on days the garage wasn't open, Al could be found on that porch. I walked up and was actually kind of glad that Emma had wandered over. I think she was bringing him lunch. She seemed to take it in herself to see to it that every child and single man was well fed. She saw me coming and smiled.
"Couldn't help but notice," Al said with a wink, "That 'Vette was in front of the garage until the wee hours Friday night."
"You could've helped it alright," I said, "If you hadn't been checking up on me."
I saw the look on Emma's face and felt the need to defend myself, or maybe to defend Joanie.
"And you should watch your mind, old man. We just sat on the roof talking," I said, "Not that it's your business at all."
"So what brings you to my porch this fine Sunday, Jimmy?" Al asked trying to change the subject before he was on the receiving end of Emma's scorn.
"I was just about to head out to pick her up and I just ain't so sure about walking up to meet her folks," I confessed, "There's not a lot of guys like me up in Bloomfield Hills. I'm sure I ain't what they had planned for their little girl."
"Since when do you worry what a parent thinks or any adult for that matter?" Al asked.
"Since they could keep me from her if they wanted to."
"Oh Jimmy," Emma exclaimed, "You really care for this girl, don't you?"
"Yeah," I said and I just kept looking at my feet. "So what do I do?"
Emma just couldn't stop smiling at me and it was kind of starting to scare me.
"I think that if she sees the boy under the tough guy then maybe that ability came from somewhere. They probably raised her to look beyond the surface."
I considered her words a moment before she all but pushed me off the porch telling me that I'd hurt Joanie's feelings if I dawdled too much. She was right and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her more than I had already. I hustled to my car and headed out to face whatever confronted me. I can't tell you how many times I almost turned back but I made it to her house. I parked and just sat there for a minute trying to get up enough nerve to walk up and ring the bell. I didn't belong there. My car, my clothes, none of it belonged there.
I hate to admit this but I damn near screamed when I heard the passenger door opened. I looked over as Joanie slid in beside me.
"I meant to come to the door like a respectable date," I said ashamed.
"And you will," she said, "I'm not going anywhere with you until you meet Mom and Dad. I promise they won't bite."
"Joanie," I began, "I'm not really what most parents are looking for their daughter to get mixed up with."
"I haven't hid anything about you from them," she said, "They know where you're from and how you dress and that you have the most beautiful eyes-okay, only my mom and sister got that bit of information."
She kissed my cheek and somehow I felt that it might just be okay after all. I got out of the car and we went up to the door. She led me inside and I can't even describe the house. It was like a museum except all the beautiful stuff was out in the open and not behind ropes or glass. Her folks were just sitting in the living room like their daughter wasn't parading a new boy into the house. Her dad was reading the Free Press and her mom had a copy of Life magazine. They looked up when we walked in and their smiles were so real and not forced at all.
"Mom, Dad," Joanie started, "This is James Hickok. James, these are my parents Jacob and Gladys Cohen."
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Cohen," I said and they both stood up and shook my hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you James," her mom said, "Joanie has certainly told us some very nice things about you. I'll go get us some cold drinks."
She left the room and I was disappointed and a little nervous when Joanie followed her mother out to help her. I think I would have much rather followed Mrs. Cohen to the kitchen.
"Have a seat, James," he motioned toward a chair near the couch that he was sitting in. I sat on the edge of the seat. I was pretty nervous. I saw him smile at me.
"How was the drive out here?" he asked and I was sure he was messing with me at that point.
"It was nice," I choked out.
"I have to say," he began after a breath, "I'm glad to be meeting the young man who's caused such a stir around here."
"Sir?"
"It's been worse than the Thunder Bolt at Boblo Island around here. One day she's crying and the next she's singing and laughing and then she's worried that you don't like her," I was listening for anger at making his household so crazy but there was none.
"Someday, God willing, you might have children," he continued, "If you're lucky enough to have a daughter, you'll learn to roll with the punches a little. There's a lot of emotion in a teenage girl."
"I'm sorry," I said and he laughed at me though it wasn't mean at all.
"Are you sorry she's a teenage girl?" he asked. "I would have thought that would be exactly what you would like about her."
"I meant," I started but he cut me off.
"I know what you meant but she is who she is and you might not be perfect but neither is she. She'll get crazy from time to time. I should be thanking you for the smile on her face yesterday."
He got a kind of faraway look at that.
"It used to be me to make her smile like that," he said, "Didn't take much either. Maybe a trip to get a bagel in the morning, just the two of us. It's the little things, James. Remember that, it's the little things. I knew that hanging out with her old man wouldn't do forever but it's been hard to sometimes see her so distant and know that a new doll or stuffed bear wouldn't make her smile like it used to. Then she got up for temple yesterday smiling brighter than when we'd go for bagels and I'd let her get a chocolate milk. Thank you."
I had no idea what to say to this. He was like no father I had ever met. Mrs. Cohen and Joanie came back in with a tray. I stood and reached to take the tray from Mrs. Cohen. It had a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses on it and I recall just hoping that I wouldn't drop the thing. I didn't and soon we were all sipping lemonade.
We chatted for a bit and I recall it was all polite stuff, where I worked and that sort of thing, they didn't seem the least upset that I hadn't finished high school. I heard steps running down the stairs and then someone spoke.
"You're right, Joanie, he is cute!"
I saw Joanie's face turn red and I'm fairly certain she was fighting the urge to hurl the throw pillow next to her at the voice. Instead she pasted on a smile.
"James," she said and kept smiling even though her teeth were clenched, "This is my kid sister Judy."
I turned and waved at her. She looked a lot like Joanie but shorter. I think she must've idolized her older sister because she was dressed identical.
"James," Joanie got my attention, "I think we should be going now, don't you?"
"Yeah, sure," I said. There was hand shaking again as we headed for the door and Mr. Cohen kissed Joanie on the forehead and I heard him tell her to have a good time before confirming that she'd be home by ten. It's funny, I knew Mr. Cohen for a lot of years and lost track of how often he told me to call him Jacob but I never could bring myself to do it. In time I would occasionally call Mrs. Cohen Gladys. But not often.
We got on the road and Joanie turned to me.
"How bad was Daddy?" she asked.
"I think I was more scared than I needed to be," I said, "He really loves you."
I guess the wonder came through in my voice because she laughed and asked, "It surprises you that my father loves me?"
"Mine don't love me."
"I can't believe such a thing," she said and I know she didn't mean nothing by it but there's no way she could know what things was like for me.
"I moved out over a year ago," I started, "I didn't leave no note and didn't tell either of my folks where I was going. They ain't come looking for me yet. Not so much as a phone call to Al to ask if he seen me. Knowing them, they ain't been sober long enough between the two of them to even notice I ain't there."
She scooted across the seat up close to me.
"I'm so sorry," she said as she rested her head on my shoulder. I looked at her and she was blinking to not cry.
I took a hand off the wheel and put my arm around her and kissed the top of her head.
"So where am I going today?" I asked.
"DIA," she said, "I can't get enough of the Diego Rivera frescos. Have you seen them?"
I shook my head. I'd never been to a museum in my life. That was something TV kids did on field trips or nice families did on weekends and summer vacation. I had certainly never been to, or even thought about going to, an art museum. But I drove there all the same because it would make her happy and if there was things there that she loved then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Of course she liked me so I wasn't all sure about her taste.
I shouldn't have doubted her. I already knew she was smarter than me and I should have known she was also more cultured. Everything we saw, she knew things about beyond what was written on the little plaques that describe them. And she was right about those frescos, that Diego Rivera guy was really something. We went for a bite to eat and then walked around campus. For being smack in Detroit, Wayne State is really something to see and being spring, the trees was budding out all over. We just strolled along and I held her hand. I know we looked like every stereotype of the good girl dating the bad boy that was ever put on film. Me in my jeans and leather jacket and Cuban heeled boots and her with her puffed out skirt and saddle shoes and the blouse with the little rounded collar they used to call a Peter Pan collar, I think and that cardigan sweater over her shoulders and just buttoned at the top. I know we got some looks from plenty of folks probably wondering which one of us was dressed in a costume of some sort but Joanie didn't pay them no mind and after a while, I didn't either.
I pulled up in front of her house a good five minutes before ten and I know because I checked my watch to be sure.
"I don't turn into a pumpkin at ten," she laughed.
"I know but I don't want them to think I'm not responsible."
"I only have to be here by ten," she said, "I don't have to go in. We can sit and talk a bit more if you'd like."
We did talk some more. I couldn't figure out how we found so much to talk about but we did. Sometimes it was music or movies we'd debate but sometimes it was real serious stuff like how unfair people like Mrs. Jenkins get treated or how hard things got for some folks when Packard became Studebaker and the jobs from that left.
I drove home thinking about all the things Joanie was that the other girls I knew weren't. She cared about history and art and how people were treated and things being fair and everyone getting a fair shake. I admired that about her quite a lot.
The next week went by slower than molasses in January. We'd talk on the phone every night but it wasn't the same as seeing her or holding her or being with her. I woke up Saturday to banging on the door. I opened the door to see Joanie looking at me. I had told her to come on over but I didn't expect her at my door at eight in the morning. I felt weird about letting her in but I couldn't just leave her standing in a glorified stairwell either. I moved aside and let her come in which she did but I know I saw her hesitate a bit. It's funny; she only paused until she looked up at me. It was like she needed a reminder of whose place she was walking into. It actually made me feel good that I'd gotten her trust back.
"Coffee?" I asked.
"I'd love some," she answered as she sat down on the davenport.
"How do you take it?"
"Sugar."
Of course she would. Myself, I have always taken my coffee black. I brought the cup to her. She was looking around as if studying the room.
"I'd give you the grand tour but this is it. You're sitting in the living room and the bedroom and you just saw me in the kitchen."
"It's bigger and nicer than my dorm room is going to be," she said.
"Dorm room?"
"When I go to school in the fall," she replied, "I'll live in a dorm."
I had to sit down at that. I knew she was a senior and as smart as she was and with a family like she had, I should have figured she'd be going to college. It just hadn't occurred to me that she'd be leaving.
"You're leaving?" I asked and I must have looked pathetic.
"Just to U of M," she said, "Ann Arbor's not far. I'm not going to the moon or anything."
It was a small relief, Ann Arbor isn't far at all from Detroit but still, with the guys she'd meet there, she might as well have been going to a whole other world. Surely she wouldn't have much use for me anymore. I realized she was talking.
"Am I dressed alright?" she asked, "For what you have planned I mean."
I looked at her in those pants the girls wore then and some little shoes in the exact same color. She was perfect and I told her so. I started pulling things out of the fridge and into a basket I had borrowed from Emma. I closed up the basket after I had set a blanket on top of the things inside. I turned and there was Joanie less than six inches from me.
"You look nervous or something," she said and raised her hand like she wanted to touch me but wasn't sure of it so she just clasped her hands together in front of herself.
"Nervous isn't quite the right word for it," I said and looked around my apartment though that was a real generous way to describe it. Joanie caught on.
"Well," she said, walking around the place, "You could use a decorator but it's cozy and you have it all to yourself. It's got to be nice sometimes to know you can close the door on the whole world and just be alone."
The way she said it just made me fall in love more with her. It was kind of sad and wishing like, as much as she loved her family, she'd like to get away from them and everyone else from time to time. She looked at the basket.
"Are we going on a picnic?" she asked. I nodded.
"I thought we'd drive over to Belle Isle," I said and the smile she gave told me I did something right.
Hello, my pretties! Okay...quickly to run down...Boblo Island was an amusement park open on Bois Blanc Island located in the Detroit River. It was an open park from 1898 to 1993 and now there is a private resort and golf course...the Thunder Bolt was the big wooden roller coaster that was the big one in 1960...it was replaced by a steel coaster in the early 70's. The Packard was a car that was built in Detroit until 1957 and then Packard was bought out by Studebaker and manufacturing was moved to Indiana, I think. Belle Isle is another island in the Detroit River. There is a bridge that allows for driving over and there are wonderful public parks and great picnic areas and fountains and statues all over it. DIA is the Detroit Institute of Art which is the big art museum in downtown Detroit. It is magnificent and does have 3 or 4 huge and amazing murals by Diego Rivera. I encourage you to look them up. Wayne State University is also located in the heart of the city. It boasts a highly regarded medical school and some of the most beautiful buildings-beautiful enough to rival other schools for sure. U of M is the University of Michigan and it is located in Ann Arbor which, with suburban growth and the newer expressway system is more or less part of the greater metro-Detroit area...back then it would have been less so but still not very far away. I, myself, am a Michigan State University supporter as it's just about 20 mins down the road from where I live. But I figured Joanie would go to Ann Arbor and be a Wolverine instead of heading up here and being a Spartan...If there's anything else that needs clarifying, please let me know. Kisses to you all. Oh and just to clarify, since this is AU, I felt it okay to allow Jimmy to grow into an old man. In truth, I just turned yesterday the age that he was when he died (39) but obviously in this story he's telling it from a nowadays perspective and if he was 18 in 1960, he would be somewhere around 70 today sooo...yeah, I thought it was fine though since AU means MU (My Universe!) Let me know what you think, please.-J