Laughing Together Series (Vol. 9) Stricken Chips and Stolen Strawberries

Home for Abused Chips 

Towards the end of a stressful semester, it did me a world of good to be around Kevin, who knows how to have fun and live in the moment.  Laughter and being loved do so much to relieve stress.

Going to an amusement park with a boyfriend had been something I’d dreamed about for years, so one day we went to King’s Dominion.  After getting off a particularly brain-scrambling roller coaster, I went up to a window to order us lunch.  “I’d like two stricken chips,” I told the girl behind the counter.

           

She gave me a confused look. 

Kevin stepped up and said, “Don’t mind her.  We just got off of a roller coaster.  We’d like two orders of chicken strips.”  We spent the entire lunch laughing hysterically as we ate our chicken and fries, and later I drew a little picture of a house and wrote "Home for Abused Chips" on the front of one of the many letters I sent him back then when we were still dating.  

Enjoy Your Day Here at Busch Gardens 

We had a nearly perfect day at Busch Gardens during the visit when Kevin came down for my high school graduation.  Just the two of us went.  We saw several of the shows, rode all of the roller coasters, and this time we had a delectable meal of barbecue chicken that I didn’t have trouble ordering, because all of the food was already prepared and set out for the taking. 

The moment that really sticks out occurred while we were eating dinner at the Italian opera house.  Feeling rather adventuresome, I selected an Italian sampler platter for my meal.  I’m kind of a picky eater whereas Kevin’s what some would call a food slut (though he appreciates good quality food prepared well, when it comes right down to it, he’ll eat anything). 

I instructed Kevin not to tell me what specific ingredients or foods were in my Italian sampler platter because that might have made me decide not to eat it.  When he’d finished eating his meal, and I was ready to move on to dessert, he polished off the rest of my sampler while I started on the cup of strawberries with whipped cream I’d gotten for us to share. 

We got talking, and I put the big dollop of whipped cream on a napkin, figuring it contained too much sugar for Kevin to consume, then I proceeded to eat one strawberry after another.  When there were only two strawberries left, Kevin asked me if he could have one. 

“Of course, we’re supposed to split them,” I said matter-of-factly, not realizing until then that I’d eaten most of them.

Kevin asked me why I’d put the whipped cream on a napkin.  I explained.  We were both laughing as he dipped the last two strawberries in the whipped cream and savored them.  I just knew it would be an incident he’d remind me of frequently.  Sure enough.  I still get hassled about sharing strawberries to this day, even though one time on his birthday when I was up there living with my grandmother for the summer to be closer to him, I got up super early one morning to fix him breakfast before he had to go to work.  Of course, strawberries were included.

Laughing Together Series (Vol. 8) "I won't even wear a Buffalo Bills jacket inside out."

After Christmas 1998, I flew up to Rochester to spend six days with Kevin.  I stayed at my grandma’s place, again.  The first order of business was finding me a suitable winter coat.  The one I had was only adequate for fall or spring in upstate New York. 

Kevin offered me a Buffalo Bills jacket which I refused to wear even inside out since I was born in Texas, and my parents had been diehard Dallas Cowboys fans for years.  In fact, my mom remembers the day I was born as being one of the most joy-filled days of her life. 

She recalls the events surrounding my birth and rather quick delivery, and she also remembers that the Cowboys won that evening.  My stubbornness on this matter of refusing to wear fan gear for a rival football team even for purposes of keeping warm in winter thoroughly amused Kevin, but after hassling me for a bit, he found another coat I could wear during the visit. 

I still kid Kevin about being the only fan the Bills have left in our state, possibly on our entire planet.  Shortly after Christmas 2014 when the Bills played the Patriots, my dear proudly announced that his team had actually won a game. 

“Does the NFL know about this?” I quipped.

He came back with: “Of course not.  Haven’t you ever heard of “fantasy football?”    

Laughing Together Series (Vol. 7) My First Dinner with Kevin's Family at the Cottage

I had fun taking part in the tradition Kevin’s family has had for decades of eating dinner together at the cottage on Sundays in the summer.  His three older sisters and their husbands came over to relax outside, swim in the lake, and have a cook-out.  Dinner was a very informal affair and proved to be quite amusing.  I mostly just listened, laughed, and observed while eating.  

The fan was on and all of the windows were open to let in the breeze.  Kevin tried to put pepper on his salad, and a gust carried it away before it reached the lettuce.   

“My girls don’t even cover it up anymore,” his sister Chari confessed.  I was appalled until I realized that she had to be talking about their female felines peeing in the yard not their children; they have two sons.  

The conversation topics throughout the meal were comical.  They managed to cover everything from out-of-control condiments and peeing pets to how to eat around the scorched spots of corn on the cob and breast reductions.        

Laughing Together Series (Vol. 6) Water Skiing Epic Fail

My mom and sisters noticed I was trying things when Kevin was around that I never would have done in the past—such as water skiing.  I struggled quite a bit putting on the stupid swim goggles, a clear sign this venture would not lead me to a career in water sports. 

Kevin’s advice to me the first time I tried to get up on skis was “just stand up.”  It’s no wonder I never really mastered the trick.  I asked if he could tell me a little more about what I should do, but he instructed me to do one thing and one thing only, and I couldn’t do it without falling over in a matter of seconds.  I tried really hard over and over again, and though I did manage to stand up, I was never able to stay up. 

In the process, my arms were almost yanked out of their sockets, and I lost a pair of goggles, which at present are likely buried deep under a sand bed in Lake Ontario.  It didn’t occur to Kevin until days after my severe soreness had set in that he probably shouldn’t have started out going full throttle since I didn’t weigh much and had weak knees, not just because I was around him.  

Laughing Together Series (Vol. 5) "You're still pretty, though."

It wasn’t long before Kevin started singling me out to do things.  Our first trip alone together was to a music store called Media Play.  During our outing, Kevin said something that led me to believe he was attracted to me.  He recounted the beginning of the lady in the nursing home scene that we’d all been laughing about, but then finished with a different punch line, “you’re still pretty damn cute for a 125 pounder.” 

He’d been a great listener thus far—another attribute I noticed early on that no doubt helped win me over—but he certainly misquoted the weight conscious little old lady.  That was one of those moments I played over and analyzed later for possible deeper meanings.  Of all of the ones I came up with, I liked the ‘he thinks I’m attractive’ interpretation best.

On the way home from our rather brief outing, I asked Kevin if he would ever let me drive his car.  He was very into his ride, so I was testing him to see if he’d trust me with one of his most prized possessions.  I never expected his abrupt response.  As soon as the words left my lips, he pulled over on the side of the road, got out, and let me drive.  Not only that, but I didn’t give him the keys back when we returned to the cottage.  That evening he went out to dinner with his dad, his sister Wendy, and her husband Bob.  While they were gone, I moved his car to the crowded Crescent Beach Restaurant parking lot down the street. 

He sought me out right away when he didn’t see his car in the driveway.  He asked me where it was.  I shrugged my shoulders and handed him the keys.  Visions of an accident danced in his head.  He continued interrogating me, and I told him I’d lead him to the general vicinity of where it was.  As Kevin, Theresa, and I were walking down the street, I yelled “Oooooaaaaahhh…psht!” and ran into him sideways, pretending we were two cars crashing.  He laughed and shook his head.  I led him to the hotel parking lot.  He pressed the button to disarm the alarm, and the headlights flashed.  Dead giveaway.  The hunt was fun while it lasted.  

Check out the rest of the series so far Vol. 1, Vol. 2, Vol. 3, and Vol. 4.

Laughing Together Series (Vol. 4) "I Wish You Could Be the One."

As Kevin drove me back to my grandma’s place that night in 1998, he squeezed my hand and said, “I wish you could be the one.”  Fortunately, upon hearing this romantic confession, I had the restraint not to blurt out anything blunt or negative, such as “that’s not an option!”  In fact, I had the good sense to keep my mouth shut and just squeeze his hand back.  I’d been thinking often that I’d love to spend the rest of my life with him.  I didn’t want to go back in my protective shell, always hiding my thoughts and feelings from people.  In some ways, I already knew I wouldn’t put up all the barriers I’d taken down to let in the friend who had come to live with us, nor the ones I’d disassembled in order to grow closer to Kevin.  Going back to that sort of isolated existence would be too lonely.

Even so, I didn’t feel as comfortable talking with other people.  Frequently, I was discouraged from sharing because people didn’t listen very well.  Other times it was because I had it ingrained in my brain that what happened in our family should be kept secret.  For a while, I’d convinced myself others not only wouldn’t understand or care enough to learn about the real me, but also that they’d judge my family and me if I were completely open and honest with them.  

There were so many reasons why I didn’t want what had been one of the best weeks of my life to come to an end.  I’ve always hated not knowing what would happen next, many times, because in the past, major decisions were made without my input, and I had to deal with the consequences.  I wanted to hold on to the memories, the closeness I’d felt to someone else, and the abundance of laughter and silliness we shared.  Kevin had said he’d never been good about writing letters, and I knew my mom wasn’t okay with us spending hours and hours talking on the phone.  I hoped something would change so we wouldn’t lose touch. 

Here are links to the Laughing Together Series Vol. 1, Vol. 2, Vol. 3.

Laughing Together Series (Vol. 3) Gag Gifts for Kevin's Birthday, Coast Guard Issues, and Personalized Pens

In 1998, my mom, sisters, and I expressed our birthday wishes for Kevin with a few gifts.  We gave him a notepad that said, “Experience enables us to recognize a mistake when we make it again.”  I gave him a little wooden box with a star cut out of the lid.  I colored it with markers, put three shiny tugboat stickers below the star, and filled the box with little papers. 

That summer my sisters and I would tell someone to be quiet by saying, “I’ve got a whole box of Shh! with your name on it!”  Kevin had heard us use this many times, so I wrote Shh! on several pieces of notebook paper, cut them up, wrote his name on the decorated wooden box, and gave it to him.  He was very amused. 

Our useful gift, or one that at least appeared to have practical value, was a magnet with the numbers of the Coast Guard.  We told him we’d included it so he could call and get the coordinates of the sunken tugboat he still claimed existed.  He’d been disappointed by the Coast Guard in the past, and we’d joked about how much time they spend at local donut shops.  Later we confessed that the phone number on the magnet was really for Dunkin Donuts, not the Coast Guard.  He thought that was even funnier.

We also gave him a set of ballpoint pens with his name on them.  He took this as an indication that he should be writing me.  This was a message I wanted to convey, but I’m sure wasn’t what my mom was thinking when she bought them.  He apologized numerous times for not writing me back.  He explained he didn’t know what to say.  I forgave Kevin and told him his father had written me one of the nicest letters I’d ever received in response to the one I’d sent him.  Of course, this didn’t make Kevin think he was off the hook.

Click here to read Vol. 1 and/or Vol 2.

Laughing Together Series (Vol. 2) Out About on the Boat with Kevin & An Unexpected Lunch at Newport House

Usually, Kevin came over to hang out with all of us.  We had some new boat adventures.  One time he took us out again to show us the sunken tugboat.  Despite a thorough search, we never saw the submerged vessel whose existence, by the way, the rest of us question to this day.       

     
Another afternoon, Kevin took us down to a restaurant on Irondequoit Bay called Newport House.  The only problem was that he hadn’t informed us of our destination prior to leaving the house, so he was the only one wearing shoes and carrying money.  It was around lunch time on a weekday, so the outdoor seating area was packed with people in business attire.  My mom’s the queen of spontaneity, so she didn’t mind.  I was just happy to be near Kevin, so I was fine with it. 

     
We got some strange looks when I had to put together a makeshift ensemble to go inside and use the bathroom.  I was wearing little black board shorts and my black Speedo bathing suit without any shoes.  I borrowed a bright blue terrycloth jacket, which was at least seven sizes too big, and Kevin lent me his brown boat moccasins, which clearly didn’t fit either.  Kevin waited outside on the sidewalk for quite some time before I returned with his shoes. 

As luck would have it, I’d started my period.  Of course, I had nothing with me including money and would have been mortified to go and ask Kevin for a quarter.  Fortunately, a kind woman took pity on me and got me a quarter from her purse, which was back at her table.  

Eventually, I came back outside, and Kevin told me he’d been about to send someone with a fishing pole in for me.  He asked what took so long.  I just smiled, shrugged, and gave him back his shoes.  I sat behind Kevin the whole boat ride home and fought the urge to wrap my arms around him or kiss his cheek.  

     
To read Vol. 1, click here.

Laughing Together Series (Vol. 1) In the Beginning

Kevin came over to say goodbye before we left.  I hugged him, knowing I would miss him and our time at the cottage.  In a July 21, 1997 journal entry, I wrote:    

                                              

I’ve been overflowing with emotions lately. It surprised me a little how saddened I was when we left Rochester.  I miss all of the friends and family we saw there!  I often find myself thinking about Kevin and our cottage.  On the way home, I was reading about “chance” meetings in a Catholic magazine Grandma let me bring on the trip.  I thought about Kevin and Harry when I read it.  I thank God that we had the opportunity to meet such nice, friendly people.  I would like to write to Kevin and make a card for Harry and one for his wife, who is in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s.  I hope that we are able to keep in touch with them this year and maybe see them next summer if we rent the cottage.

     
When we returned to Richmond, Virginia, I was left feeling like I wanted more to come of my relationship with Kevin, but eventually I resigned myself to accepting reality: we are 17 years apart in age; I was still a minor; he already had a girlfriend; and we lived five hundred miles apart.  At that point, the potential problems with me being a devout Catholic and him not wanting to have anything to do with the Church didn't even occur to me."