Not Even A Date

My mother told me all the time I "had such a pretty face." She was also surprisingly kind to my bio-mom, always marveling at how smooth and hairless her legs were. No real surprise since Mom had the hairiest legs I had ever seen. She was always shaving, which is probably why she forbid me to shave my legs to keep me from being caught in the trap she found herself in -- dry legs and lots of stubble -- when she word pedal pushers or exposed her legs.

I got the bug when I hit puberty and went to high school where I saw the stubbly legs of those around me. I wanted to be able to shave my legs. That did not happen when I was a freshman, but I could wait. I had to wait just like I had to wait to date. I could not date until I was actually sixteen years old. I guess Mom thought that if I did not date, I would not be at risk for pregnancy or whatever else Mom thought was likely when I was old enough -- marriage?

I dated when I turned sixteen. I fended off unwanted proposals -- propositions -- when I dated. I was known for not being someone who was loose in school and did not kiss anyone at all. I was the opposite of an easy lay. Boys dated me because they were sure they would be the one to become the one who would lead me down the primrose path.

Didn't happen.

The boys I dated were friends, except for the one boy (an older guy, a senior) I really liked. He was the handsomest guy I had ever seen. He worked in the library and he often wore a black shirt and a white silk tie. He was friendly, but never more than civil and polite. He was friendly.

No matter how much time I spent with him, all we did was talk and get to know each other. My crush went on unabated. I really liked him. I did not notice his best friend, Paul Rasor, who was also a senior and related to a radio/television personality, but he was just a friend. I liked Paul, but he was not the apple of my eye, the guy I had a crush on. Dick Strawser was the guy for me. I was getting nowhere with Dick Strawser. Paul Rasor told me that Dick really liked me, but not enough as far as I was concerned.

The more we talked, the more I got to know Dick, and the more I wanted. I wanted a date.

Dick told me he did not date. He was still stuck on his old girlfriend. She was out of the picture and so he was alone and did not date. Dick's paramour was his crush. I was nothing more than a friend and he did not date friends. I was out of luck -- or so I thought. Paul told me that Dick liked me -- he really liked me, but I was a freshman. It would take time, but I would either become a sophomore or a junior and closer to Dick's age. Then Dick would ask me out, Paul said.

I could wait. I had to wait to be sixteen before Mom would allow me to date. I waited and I turned sixteen. I eventually was asked out, but it was not with Dick Strawser. I liked the guy who asked me out, but he was not the one. I went out, suffered the embarrassment of my dates seeing Mom walk down the stairs from the second floor wearing a pair of men's pajamas with a big hole in the seat just to embarrass me and to let me know it was time for my guest to go home. Her freshly washed face looking as greasy as if she had slathered a pound of cold cream on her face. Mom's point was to embarrass me -- or to at least let my dates know it was time to go home. I think the ripped pajamas was the first clue for the guy to go home. Her ready for bed appearance left no doubt in their minds -- or mine for that reason.

Mom was a fright. With her heavy dark hairnet covering her short hair, her face clean of makeup, and the ripped men's pajama bottoms, she was ready for bed. The Cornwell house was closed for the night. I do not think anyone but me noticed that she was not wearing a bra. Everything that Mom could do to make certain I was untouched and embarrassed was present. When Mom walked past the living room, I doubt nobody would have stayed. My chastity was intact. Mom was very efficient in running boys out. Nobody could have lasted after she made her entrance and said good night loudly as she passed from the hallway into the dining room and then into her bedroom.

I had suffered through the usual problems of dating with my mother being as embarrassing as possible. If I could get through that, I could deal with anything. I stepped up my plan with Dick, spending more time talking to him than in getting or reading books. I wanted Dick. I did not want to read yet another namby-pamby romance novel.

I threw out all kinds of possibilities like walking in the park or going on a hike or bicycle riding. Anything to get Dick to ask me out.

Then I hit pay dirt. He would agree to take a walk in the park with me this weekend. We would go to Darby Creek Park. Some date. I had to drive, but he would walk over to my house first. And so I drove out to Darby Creek Park. It was not far, took little time to get there, but we stopped at KFC and got a bucket of chicken and some sides, and I drove.

It took very little time before we were out walking around the trails, listening to the birds (it was spring after all), and heading inevitably toward Darby Creek. Dick walked across the creek, hopping from one rock to another, and I followed. Mistake.

I followed until I missed a rock my footing and sat down in the rushing creek, getting wet. What a nuisance. I fell into the creek while Dick watched me tumble backside first into the water. He offered a helping hand to lift me out of the water and I rushed across the rest of the creek to the little island. I did not make another misstep and I did not fall into the creek again. Good thing. I was as wet as I could be, embarrassed as I could be, but my dignity was intact -- until Dick suggested I take off my wet clothes, lay them over a bush or on the grass, and let them dry.

I could not believe my ears. Dick wanted to see me naked.

Or not.

We laid out the blanket I had brought with me and we sat down. I would dry out eventually, but Dick urged me to slip off my clothes and lay them out to dry. I demurred.

My heart pounded as if it would burst out of my chest.

It was logical. I was wet and there was a breeze. I shivered in my wet clothes, but I kept them on. I did relax enough to lie on my side on the blanket and we talked. I finally found out what had happened between Dick and his girlfriend and why he did not date.

Seems she was a couple years older than he and he was inexperienced and -- young -- just as I was inexperienced and young. I was shivering so hard my teeth sounded like castanets. Dick urged me to at least take off the wet clothes and lie in the sun with him.

I told him I was fine, almost dry.

"If you're embarrassed," he said, "I could take off my clothes and we would look like we were out sunning ourselves in our bathing suits. Nothing to be ashamed about."

He was so matter-of-fact about it. He even slipped off his jeans, folded them, and took off his shirt, folded it, and laid them in a pile on the corner of the blanket." He looked around. "No one is coming, Get out of those wet clothes," he urged.

No one was coming, but I was nearly dry and my teeth had stopped chattering. The day was warm and the sun was shining. I hesitated but I didn't take off my clothes. I lay back down on my side, picked a four-leaf clover and stuck it in my mouth, savoring the taste of the spring grass as I kept talking. I explained I was almost dry and we could get up and go any time he was ready.

"Well, if you're not going to get undressed then I'll put my clothes back on," he said.

He was dressed in a moment while I lay back down on the blanket, closed my eyes, and listened to the birds. I felt my pants. I was almost completely dry. With my eyes closed, listening to the birds, I relaxed. Good thing the creek was not high and I did not get very wet at all. The danger was past, Dick had put his clothes back on, and we relaxed in the sun streaming through the trees.

Eventually, we drifted into conversation, stopping whenever we heard an interesting bird. I did not know the names of the birds, but Dick did, regaling me with his greater knowledge. The sun hid behind some clouds and it was after twelve. We got up, folded the blanket, and took turns carrying it back to the parking lot. I almost got naked, but had not crossed that bridge yet. Dick had not even kissed me, so why take off my clothes just to dry my pants after I fell into the creek? It was not the proper time. Better to get naked after we have kissed and dated at least a couple of times.

If today was any indication, especially after he told me how it was for him when he and his ex-girlfriend had made out in the garage, he was never going to ask me out. He was never going to take me to the movies or ask me to dinner with his family.

Obviously, he was still hooked on his ex-girlfriend. He liked me the way he liked a next door neighbor, but he did not really like me. He could not like me enough to ask me out. He did not date. He was still waiting for his ex-girlfriend to ask him out -- or move back to town.

We got the chicken out of my car and ate at the picnic table in the park. We were half finished when it started raining. We threw the food into the bucket, grabbed the blanket, and ran for the shelter.

"Good thing it hadn't rained before now or you would have been soaked," he said.

"Good thing," I echoed.

If it had rained, the creek would have been full and I would have had to strip and lay my clothes out to dry after I fell into the creek. Good thing indeed.

We ate the rest of the KFC in the car before we left the park. I was no closer to Dick asking me out, but I was glad to have bought KFC and fed him so he would not go home hungry. He did not get to see me naked and I had not lost my virginity or my chastity. Good thing.

I drove him back to my house and he walked home.

Dad ragged me about feeding Dick. I don't think he liked Dick Strawser. Dad saw Dick Strawser as an opportunist, someone who would let the girl pay for food and not even ask for a date or pay her back for the financial outlay. I am not sure I liked Dick either, but I hoped that we would remain friends for a while, just long enough for him to ask me out. As far as Dad was concerned, Dick Strawser was a bum.

I doubted it would happen since we were almost at the end of school. He had not asked me to the prom -- and I doubted he would since he was not planning to go to the prom. His plans all centered around hooking up with his ex-girlfriend. I did not even figure into his plans. Dad was right about that. I knew Dad would be very upset if I ever saw Dick again, but I did not think I would. He was going to go away to college and hook up with his ex-girlfriend, or people his own age. I would be left behind, forgotten.

I had only been the girl who fell into the creek and got wet. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to remember.

Next year, I would be a junior. there would be other times, other boys, other dates. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to fret over. This too would pass.

All I had to remember was that I had missed my opportunity and I had never been kissed by Dick Strawser. That is all I had to remember this day by -- not being kissed -- or asked for a date -- by Dick Strawser.

Well, that and his black shirt and white silk tie. That too was worth remembering.