Those words calmed me down. and I sat back until we pulled into the driveway of what was obviously a very expensive home in one of the upscale communities.
With his crutch under his right arm. Trent came to the front door. I saw he wasn't wearing a shoe on his right foot, and it was bandaged about the ankle. He grimaced.
"Sorry about all this," he said. "Thanks for coming."
"How did it happen?"
"Bad slide into third base.
I
tried to make a double into a triple and paid for my greed," he explained with a laugh, "Come on in."
His house was a beautiful ranch-style home with a large front lawn. The stonework on the outside looked very expensive, and when I entered I saw a chandelier, plush area rugs, and elegant furnishings. No home we had lived in was even half its size. I thought.
I
remarked about how beautiful his house was, and he flipped on some lights by a patio door to show me the patio and the swimming pool.
"C'mon," he said, turning the lights off "I know how sacrosanct your study time is. See?I'm not only learning my history with you, I'm improving my vocabulary."
We both laughed.
He limped his way down the corridor and turned into his room, which was easily twice as big as mine. I was impressed with how neatly it was kept. He had school banners up on his walls. trophies on the shelves. and pictures of sports heroes. There was an expensive-looking computer station as well as a separate desk. He had a king-size bed with thick posts and a massive head-board, all in a dark cherry wood.
"I'm connected to the Internet in case there's something you want to look up," he said, nodding at the swirling heavenly bodies on the monitor screen.
"I
downloaded that screen saver from the Hubble telescope site."
I didn't have a computer. Now that we were somewhat settled in Norfolk. Daddy had mentioned he was going to buy one for me. but I didn't say anything and pretended to know exactly what Trent was talking about.
You want anything to drink, juice, soda. anything?"
"No, thank you," I said. "I'm fine."
I put my books on the desk, and he hopped over to a chair and brought it closer.
"Then let's go at it he said, flipping the cover of a notebook open. He looked up expectantly.
I
smiled.
Not every boy is a rapist.
This was nothing more than what it was intended to be, what he said it was. I was glad of that but also felt a strange contradiction. What if that was really all he wanted from me, history help? Maybe
I
wasn't as attractive as I hoped I was or as much as Mommy assured me I was. I didn't want to be invited under false pretenses, but my feminine ego was complaining.
Look, Grace Houston, I told myself, make up your mind. Do you want to exchange historical facts or kisses?
"Here is how I've organized it all," I began, and he leaned over to glance at my pages.
We studied hard for a good hour. Every once in a while I saw his eyes brighten with an understanding. He copied information quickly, rearranging his awn notes.
"You've got an order to everything that makes this so much easier." he complimented. "I guess I never really learned how to take notes properly."
"I redo it all when
I
get home. It helps reinforce it in my mind, too."
"Yeah. I can see why. Does all this orderliness and structure came from military life? My father's always threatening to send me and even my sister to military school."
"Maybe it does," I said. wondering about it myself "It's not something
I'm
aware of constantly, but
I
suppose when you are around it all day and all night..."
"Exactly." He glanced at the clock. "We haven't studied as long as you thought we would, but is sacrosanct over yet?"
I laughed. "I think we did pretty well.'
"Good. Let me show you my card collection." he said excitedly, and got up and went to his closet. He took out an armful of albums and plopped them down on the desk beside me.
"This first album has my oldest cards. Most of them are reproductions, of course. but they are still rare or hard to get." he said. "These first cards were distributed in cigarette packs."
"Really?"
"Yeah. A lot
of
people don't know that."
"I
didn't."
He nodded and smiled. "Here. This is
Ty
Cobb stealing third base for Detroit. This is Iris Speaker batting for Boston, and here's Cy Young. You've heard of the Cy Young award, of course."
"Of course." I said. I had heard of it. but I wasn't ready to tell him what it was,
"Baseball cards were first issued during the 1880s when tobacco companies wanted to promote sales. The cards depicted more than a thousand ballplayers from teams in thirteen different leagues and seventy-five cities!"
His enthusiasm brought a wide smile to my face.
"Look at this," he said, flipping to the rear of the first album. "Members of the All American Girls Professional Baseball League from 1943 to 1954. That's Alice 'Lefty' Hohlmayer. She had a record of forty-three scoreless innings in 1948. She once got a base hit off Satchel Paige in an All-Star game. And this is Lavonne 'Pepper' Paire, who led the league in the least strike- outs at bat. Six in 392 times at bat!"
He glanced at me and at the album and then at me again. "You think I'm nuts. huh?"
"No. Trent. I'm amazed and really impressed. You could make a wonderful talk in our history class about baseball history and use these as displays."
"Really?"
"Absolutely. I bet you would get extra credit."
"I could use some extra credit," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "Ask Mr. Caswell,
I
bet it's not too late."
"Maybe
I
will," he said. nodding. "Thanks." He smiled, "Most of the girls I show this stuff to are looking for ways to make a quick exit before
I
get to the second page, much less the second album."
"It's
a
wonderful collection, fascinating,"
I
said sincerely.
He opened some of the other albums to show me the cards he cherished the most and explained why or how he had managed to acquire each.
"My father thinks it's okay that I do this, but he has no idea what it's all worth now. If he did, he would have it up for sale. He's a broker."
"Oh. I wouldn't sell it ever. It's something you'd want your own son to have someday. I'm sure."
I
said.
"Exactly!" he replied, his eyes full of excitement. He sat back and stared at me a moment.
"What?"
I
said. smiling.
"Don't get mad at me." he said.
"Why would I?"
"I just thought you were like one of my cards, a valuable find," he said.
"Why would
I
get mad at that?"
He smirked. "Not too many girls would appreciate being compared to baseball cards. Grace."
"Oh."
I
laughed and then thought aloud, "It's not what you're being compared to so much as what the person doing the comparison thinks of it, how he values it."
"Smart and beautiful. too. I'm going to kick myself in the head later for taking so long to say hello to you." he said, and leaned forward to kiss me on the lips, a short but soft kiss I saw coming but still :meted with surprise.
He kept his face close to mine, searching my eyes to see how I had reacted, and then he kissed me again. We were in
an
awkward position, both on chairs, leaning toward each other, but we held on to each other until he tried to get me to my feet and put too much weight on his bad ankle. He groaned in pain, stumbled, and barely caught himself. I reached out and held on to his left arm, helping him get his balance. His face was twisted in agony.
"Sorry," he moaned. "Wow, that was like a shot of electricity, right to my heart, and unfortunately it didn't come from our kiss." he said.
"Get off your feet. Trent."
I helped him back to his bed. He sat and then lowered himself slowly and stared up at the ceiling.
"Are you all right? Do you want something?"
"I'm okay. It's easing up. I wouldn't take the painkillers. I knew you and I were going to study tonight." he said.
"Oh. Well, maybe you should now."
"Yeah.
I
guess. Let me call for your taxi first." he said, then struggled into
a
sitting position and lifted the phone receiver, "Maybe you can get me a glass of water in the meantime."
"Of course," I said, and hurried out to the kitchen. It was so long and wide, with beautiful cabinets and granite counters. I found the cabinet with the glasses and filled one with water.
"The cab will be here in ten minutes." he said when
I
returned. He was lying back on his pillow. I gave him the glass of water, and he took a pill out of the bottle on the nightstand and downed it quickly.
"'Do you want me to put away your albums?"
"No, that's all right. Relax." he said, patting the space beside him. I sat, and he reached up to touch my shoulder. "Looking at you already takes the pain away."
"Sure it does," I said, smiling at him
skeptically.
"Kissing you does for sure," he followed. He fixed his eyes on mine, and I smiled and leaned down to kiss him again. It was a longer kiss, his arms around me, holding me until I sprawled out beside him and he kissed me on the cheek, ran his fingers through my hair, and then turned my face to kiss me again. He lowered his chin to my breasts and moved over them, gently caressing them with his cheek. It clamped a surge of warmth over me that brought a small moan from my lips.
Most of the girls my age had done far more with boys and were far more experienced. Of course. I wandered if I had kissed him right, if I should let him touch me as he was touching me, but the excitement and the gentle way he caressed me kept panic and fear deeply buried under my awn fascination with every new feeling.
"If I could keep you here beside me all night, my ankle would be all better in the morning." he whispered.
"Sure. I'm a miracle worker. I have the power in my hands and lips."
"To me you do," he said. He kissed me again, this time with his hands moving over my breasts. I started to pull away, but he fell back instead and smiled. "Wow. I'm feeling the pill already," he said. "Do me a favor. Take off the shoe on my left foot. And the sock."
I did so quickly. He sat up and raised his arms,
"My shirt," he said.
I helped him lift it off his body. He undid the buckle of his belt. "I'll sleep in my underwear tonight." he said. "Tug away,"
I had come over to study history, and I was about to help him take off his pants? My moment of hesitation made him laugh.
"It's just like looking at someone in a bathing suit." he said.
I shook my head but did it Then I folded them and put them on a hanger for him.
I
did the same with his shirt.
"Thanks," he said, shifting under his blanket.
We heard the taxi driver sounding the horn,
"It's all paid for. You don't have to leave him a tip or anything."
"Are you all right?"
"Yes. I am now." he said, smiling with his eyes closed. "I'm just going to lie here and dream about you."
It brought a smile to my face. I thought for a moment, and then I leaned over and kissed him.
"Did I turn into
a
frog," he muttered, "or a prince?"
"A little boy," I replied, and he laughed. He kept his eyes closed.
"Put out the light, please," he said.
I gathered up my books, snapped off his lights, looked back at him, and said goad night. He barely whispered a reply.
I
hurried out to the front door, feeling as if I was walking on a bed of marshmallows. Then I slipped out quietly and hurried to the waiting taxi. As we pulled away, I gazed back at the house. wishing I could have done just what he dreamed of me doing: slipping in beside him and lying with him all night,
.
Mommy and Daddy were sitting in the kitchen having tea when I arrived. They both looked up expectantly, neither looking upset but both looking curious, even a bit amused.
"A boy sent a taxi for you to help him study?" Daddy asked without saying hello.
"You read my note, didn't you. Mommy?"
"Yes, honey."
"Sprained his ankle," Daddy said. 'I have heard of many different ways to get a young woman to your house. Men used to say. 'Come up and look at my paintings.'"
They both laughed.
"He really did sprain his ankle! He's a baseball player, and he slid into third trying to turn a double into a triple," I fired back at them.
"Oh." Daddy said. "That's different. So you got in some real studying, then?" he asked, still with a coy, impish smile around his lips.
"Yes, we did."
"No paintings?" Daddy asked. teasing.
The fury left my face and I smiled at him. "No, not paintings, but lots of old baseball cards."
"Baseball cards? Now that is really a new one. I can see bubble gum, but the cards?"
"They are very valuable cards. Daddy. He has a wonderful collection worth a lot of money, not that he would ever sell it. He even has cards of famous women baseball players."
"Is that right?
I
didn't know there was such a thing."
"And cards that were first put on cigarette packs, not bubble gum," I added,
"Very educational evening," Daddy said. nodding. Out of the corner of my eye. I could see that Mommy was baffling to keep from laughing.
For your information, it was." I said. "Make all the fun of me you want." I added, and shot off to my room. Mommy couldn't stop her laugh from following, but I slammed my door closed behind me and dropped myself to my bed facedown. About a minute later there was a soft knock on my door,
"What?" I cried,
The door opened slightly, and Daddy poked his head in.
"Has the minefield been cleared in here? I don't want to step on anything."
"Very funny." I turned and folded my arms under my breasts, my face in a pout.
Daddy stepped in and closed the door behind him. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry I teased you," he said. "You were just an easy target of opportunity I couldn't resist."
"I was not."
He tilted his head to see if I was serious.
I
turned away so he couldn't see me starting to smile.
"You have to admit that spraining his ankle and sending a taxi for you was a bit unusual. I bet you thought so yourself," he said, inching closer to the bed. "Come on. Sailor Girl, be honest."
I kept my face turned away, but my lips were crumbling like the walls of Jericho. I looked at him and laughed.
"That's my Sailor Girl."
"I was suspicious, yes. but Mommy told me not to be overly suspicious or I would never have any fun."
"Oh, she did. huh? She left that little detail out of her summary." he said.
"She only meant to help me, to keep me from being too frightened to enjoy life," I said.
"I know. It's good advice. There's nothing pleasant about paranoia. So. I gather it was a good allaround experience. You like this disabled ballplayer?"