“Both Sides Now” – Judy Collins
Ted drove slowly along the interstate on his way to pick up Elaine. Another New Year’s Eve party at the Woodburn Country Club. Stressed-out drivers flashed their lights and some honked their horns at him as they rushed past. Clearly, they weren’t going to the party from hell, surrounded by their parents, their parents’ best friends and their under-age girlfriend.
He was going to that party, and he was in no hurry to get there.
He wished he had taken Frank and Darlene’s invitation and just gone stag to their party. Just one time he wanted to call the shots. Finally, he forced himself to glance at the dashboard clock of the MGB and saw that, at best, he was only going to be about fifteen minutes late. It was the best he could hope for tonight. It was only in the upper twenties and no rain or snow to use as an excuse.
Ted exited his car and walked the long front walk to Elaine’s front door. He pressed the doorbell button and stepped back. In a minute the door opened and Elaine’s Mom stood there, smiling.
“Come on in Ted,” Mrs. Bowman said, beaming. “You look nice . . . and oh what a beautiful corsage. Elaine’s going to look so pretty tonight. Come on in.” She pulled him by the arm into the formal living room where Mr. Bowman was seated.
“Why hello Ted, Happy New Year! Come on in and have a seat,” Mr. Bowman stated as he sprung up from his reading chair and walked over to hug Ted. “You look very dapper tonight.” His gaze lingered on Ted’ mustard colored Nehru jacket. “That’s a great color on you, and the love beads are a nice touch.”
Ted thought to himself, so much for breaking barriers . . . nice touch? Ted shook his head, “Thanks Mr. Bowman. Yeah, they’re a big fad now, but they’ll be gone by summer.”
Mr. Bowman’s eyes lit up as he looked past Ted and he nodded for him to turn around. Ted turned and there was Elaine, smiling as she stood at the bottom of the grand staircase in the foyer. As if planned days in advance, she wore a hunter green suede mini-skirt with a soft off-white cashmere cowl-neck top.
“Hey, you look choice, Elaine . . . really choice. I’ve got a corsage for you.” He opened the box and pulled it out and walked toward her.
“You need any help?” her mom asked.
“No, no . . . no problem.” Ted pinned it on the left side of her sweater.
She walked to the tall mirror in the foyer, checked her appearance and smiled.
Ted handed her mom the box.
“Will you two be going to mass tomorrow?” she asked.
“We haven’t decided,” Ted answered immediately.
“We will, Mom. He meant we were not sure what time yet,” she corrected him with a smile.
Ted recognized a classic grin fuck when he heard one. She had just completely undermined him, but he had accepted it without protest. Was he as pussy-whipped as they kidded him about at the house? Hell, if he knew.
“Well we’re off. Happy New Year, Mr. and Mrs. Bowman.” He hugged Elaine’s mom and her dad got a handshake before he rolled it off and hugged Ted anyway. He and Elaine walked out to his car while her parents stood at the open door waving.
Once in the car Elaine sat in her seat staring forward. Ted reached over and touched her cheek with his left hand. She turned and he drew her to him and kissed her. For a night as special as New Year’s Eve, their kiss certainly wasn’t. He looked at her face, smiled and asked, “Ready?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
The ride to the country club was quiet. The music from 1969 in review came through with the occasional burst of static as they drove under power lines on the way. He finally broke the silence. “I didn’t appreciate what you said back there.”
“What did I say?” she asked defensively.
“That we will be going to mass tomorrow, even though I didn’t agree to go with you.”
“Well, we always go . . . I mean the last two years that we’ve been dating so I just assumed that.”
Ted interrupted. “That I would agree with whatever you thought? That just because we’ve done it before, we’ll do it again? Not everything is in your control . . . or mine, you know.” He raised his voice and felt better for having done so.
For the remainder of the drive they didn’t speak again. There was just the music to break the heavy silence. She reached out and placed her hand on his knee, but it was an unemotional touch on her part. Ted’s thoughts jumped to the party in Ohio and he had a Walter Mitty moment and wondered what kind of girl Gary, or heaven forbid Frank would have set him up with . . . certainly she would be a fox.
“Ted, Ted, you missed the road to the country club,” Elaine stated in a loud and unpleasant voice.
“Oh, shit . . . no problem.” He drove a few hundred feet further and found a corner store parking lot to make a U-turn in. He headed back toward the turn-off. The entrance to the club was still decorated with an overabundance of Christmas lights on the very tall rock walls that were on each side of the entrance and in the trees that lined the road to the clubhouse. There were several valets parking the cars as the parking lots were too far for the women to walk in heels and long dresses.
“Good evening, sir,” the valet said as he opened Ted’s door. Another valet on the passenger’s side opened the door for Elaine.
“Good evening ma’am. Allow me to assist you.” Extending his white-gloved hand, he assisted her in exiting the MGB. A quick glance as Ted stood up told him that her valet was paying an inordinate amount of time staring at her mini skirt. She did have pretty legs.
“Thank you,” Elaine said with a smile. “Happy New Year’s.” She turned and caught up with Ted before the man could respond.
Once inside Ted helped her with her coat, then gave both coats to the coat check girl and pocketed the claim token. He turned and walked over to her and his parents. “Hi Dad, Mom. Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year, son. Doesn’t Elaine look nice tonight?” his dad said.
“Super,” Ted smiled stiffly. “Mom, you’re looking great. New dress?”
“Why, thank you. I got your old man to spring for an Oleg Cassini original . . . I’m only going to get to wear it once.” She spun around to show off the elegant royal blue velvet and satin dress.
“At least when the Kennedys were in the White House, there were tax deductions for such luxuries as an Oleg Cassini original. I’m going to lose my shirt on this one,” his dad protested.
“Arnold, you’re a senior partner. You can afford this dress and the cost for your family to be here for the holiday with us,” his mom snapped back.
“Where’s our table?” Ted asked.
“Front and center, son,” his dad, unlit cigar between his center and index finger, threw his arm around Ted’s shoulder and escorted him into the ballroom as Ted glanced back at Elaine.
Trailing a respectful distance behind, Sally and Elaine followed them in to the ballroom chatting about whatever they had to talk about.
Already seated were Ted’s brother Harold and his wife of ten years, Linda, and his sister Pamela and her date David Minor III, a West Point cadet, dress uniform and all. Ted smiled as he remembered how angry David would get if you failed to add the third to his name. Ted made it a point to always leave it off.
“The gang’s all here,” Ted quipped as he walked around to shake his brother’s hand and David’s. He returned to pull out Elaine’s chair for her.
“That’s some dress Linda, black chiffon, is it? Sexy.” Ted joked, “Is 1970 going to be the fourth year you have a child born in September?”
“Ted, stop it . . . apologize to your sister-in-law.” his Mom demanded.
“Sorry Linda . . . but you look bitchin’. That’s all I’m saying.” Ted threw his arms up to make his point.
“I’ll keep my guard up,” promised his brother, smiling.
“And Chief Warrant Officer Minor, how goes the Army?” Ted asked across the table.
“2nd Lieutenant, I was promoted this year to 2nd Lieutenant,” David responded, noticing but not commenting on the absence of the third after his name.
“Well that deserves a drink. I’m buying.” Ted stood up and motioned for David to go to the bar with him. “Anyone need anything else?” No one wanted anything, so Ted and David walked to the bar outside the ballroom.
“Thanks for asking me to come with you. I always thought we never got along that well. How are you doing, Ted?” David asked sincerely trying to befriend him.
Ted was momentarily sorry about leaving off the third, when it obviously was so important to David. He vowed to include it in the future. “Yeah, I know. It was me, I guess. I’m past that now, whatever that was.”
They arrived at the end of the line. The dark oak of the bar and beveled glass shelves behind the bar just naturally lowered your blood pressure when you walked in. The seven high-backed, richly padded bar stools were occupied, all with men. The sconces and lamps around the antique mirrors provided for a soft even light throughout, giving the room a warm, welcoming atmosphere. There were five pentagon-shaped tables with leather tops and five matching swivel chairs with spindled backs and thick leather padding. The center of the table had been decorated with a special centerpiece that would become one of the many door prizes at the end of the night.
They worked their way to the front of the line, and after the very pretty blonde female bartender prepared their cocktails carefully and with special interest in David, they took their drinks to a corner of the bar room where they could talk in a quieter atmosphere.
“Happy New Year, David,” Ted offered as they clinked their glasses and took a long drink, almost in unison.
“Listen . . . stop me if I’m butting in, but Pamela thought your lottery number came in pretty low.”
Ted thought for a while. He looked at David and took another drink, then centered the heavy crystal glass carefully on the coaster. “I got number 40 . . . they said the first 195 are screwed.” He drained his glass and replaced it on the coaster. “Maybe I needed two.”
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
“If I could get elected president by June Ist, I could probably get an occupational deferment in time. But I’m not old enough to be president, but I’m just the right age to go to Nam. Funny, huh?”
“What does your dad say? I mean he’s got connections . . . right?”
“I suppose. Word is that they’re cracking down on deferments, and they’ll be very hard to get. Especially for a political science major.”
“Yeah, the rumors at school are that they are going to eliminate those soon and now they’re trying to figure out what to do with tens of thousands of college graduates marching with guns. What a fuckin’ mess.”
“Well, you should be okay, 2nd Lieutenant David Minor III. You should have some clout . . . fancy desk job in D.C.”
“Another one, sir?” the blonde bartender asked as she rushed over. “And you sir?” Exact same words, but her question sounded sexier when she asked David. Maybe that was what he had to look forward to. Men in uniform seemed to attract women like flies on Kevin’s cat.
“Two more . . . each I think,” David said as he winked at her.
“Like I said, you’ll make some general a good assistant.”
“There’s a dirty little secret about this war, Ted,” David said as he leaned in closer. “They’re losing second lieutenants right and left.”
“How does that happen?”
“Friendly fire.” David said and sat back. “We hear that it is like between 12% and 15% compared to the 10% in the big one.”
“Why?”
“They’re looking into it, but second louies tend to come home in a bag.”
Ted’s eyes filled with terror. “No shit.”
“Here’s your drinks men. By the way, my name is Lana.”
“Thanks Lana. I’m David and this is Ted.” The girl waited a few seconds longer, but when neither man asked for her number, she sighed and returned to the bar.
“Cute. Wish I was alone tonight,” Ted sighed.
“Can’t blame you, dude,” David said as he raised his glass. “Better head back.” They walked outside the bar side-by-side when David stopped. “Listen, I can’t do much for you, but if you need me to find anything out for you, call me, okay?”
“Will do.”
The orchestra was playing Sweet Caroline as, just short of the ballroom, Elaine ran into them. “There you guys are. You going dance with me, Ted?”
“Do they have a singer this year?” Ted inquired.
“Yes, why.”
“Just wondered . . . oh well, duty calls.” Ted escorted her to the dance floor.
Ted knew he was safe on the dance floor because there, no one would be critical and ask questions of him. Elaine was happy as everyone at the party was older than her. The song ended, but the band immediately went into I've Gotta Be Me. How appropriate, Ted thought. He smiled at Elaine and held her as close as she would let him as they danced. He called upon Walter Mitty one more time to pick up on the girl that they would have fixed him up with tonight in Ohio. He imagined her name was Samantha and she would be beautiful and smart and kind. He focused on the shapely brunette singer on the bandstand singing “I gotta be free, I just gotta be free, daring to try, to do it or die, I gotta be free.”
“You okay, Ted?” Elaine asked.
“Sure, what’s not to enjoy?” he said as he walked her to their table.
“Anyone need to powder their nose with me?” Sally asked.
“Count me in,” Linda said as she stood up.
“Me too,” echoed Pamela.
“Coming Elaine?” Linda asked.
“Sure,” she said half-heartedly.
The band started playing I'll Never Fall In Love Again. Arnold leaned over to Harold, David and Ted. “Remind me next year to cut back on the size of the band. Let’s talk.” He nodded toward the hallway that led down to the library. Ted’s dad had reserved the library for his personal use tonight so he could have some quiet time with just the men.
They opened the heavy doors, solid oak with beveled glass insert panels and brass hinges and knobs, and entered. Arnold flipped the lights on and the soft glow of indirect lights from the box ceiling bathed the room. Ted smiled as he was reminded of the days he would visit the club with his dad.
Arnold caught Ted’s expression. “Take you back, son?” he asked as he sat down at one of the tables.
“I never could figure out why I always had a new coloring book every time we came here,” Ted commented and smiled slightly.
“Oh, hell, I knew if I didn’t keep you stimulated, you’d be running all over the place. “It was a small price to pay.” Arnold laughed. “Let’s talk, men.” Arnold tossed authentic Habanos Montecristo cigars from Cuba across the table to where David, Harold and Ted were seated. “I turned on the exhaust fan. Besides, those women will be a while before they know we’re even gone.” They all laughed.
Arnold stood up with glass in hand, “Let me be the first to wish you all happy New Year.” As he raised his glass, he continued, “May we be blessed to pursue our happiness despite those clowns in Washington.” They all leaned in and clinked glasses and wished each other a happy New Year.
“So,” as he sat back down, “what the hell is that dickhead doing with this war and draft bullshit?” Arnold asked in a loud and angry voice as he turned his head and shifted his eyes toward each one of them several times. Everyone used the pause to cut their cigars and light them.
“Ted and I had a talk in the bar, and I told him the rumors at the academy are a real bummer, sir. Second louies getting blown away at record rates, Nixon making plans to expand this thing into Cambodia and God knows where else.”
“It makes me glad that Linda and I have three kids. That will protect me from this nightmare,” Harold announced.
“That kind of leaves you hanging come next June, Ted. What was your lottery number anyway?’ his dad asked.
Ted glanced over at his dad and wondered how in the world something so important hadn’t caused him to keep track of his own son’s lottery number. “40.”
Arnold didn’t seem disturbed by that news. “Well, that’s not the end of the world by any means, Ted. I’ve got the inside track for up to four men to get into the National Guard next June; an old and valued client felt like he owed me,” his dad boasted.
“Kept his ass out of jail?” David asked.
“Saved him nearly $50 million dollars. Everybody has a price.” Arnold took a big draw on his cigar and slowly released the smoke. “Anyway, Ted, you’ll be able to work for me at the firm in the downtown office next summer and then head off to Harvard law school in the fall . . . problem solved. And before I forget to mention it, I spoke with Elaine’s dad last week and they’re looking forward to a Christmas wedding next year.” Arnold raised his glass.
Ted was thrilled to know he could avoid the draft but felt his stomach knot up as he thought about the vice of his parents, law school and Elaine closing in. He forced a smile as everyone was tipping their glasses in his direction in a silent toast. He felt his eyes water and then realized the cigar smoke had become overwhelming.
“We better be heading back. They’re about to serve the first course,” Arnold said after confirming the time on his gold pocket watch. “We hired a different caterer this year, so you’re in for a treat. It should be very good.”
They headed toward the door. “Men,” we’ll have to find the right date when we all can get together for a round next summer,” and they all nodded and turned down the hallway to the ballroom.
The women were already seated and the shrimp cocktail had just been served. “This looks marvelous, Arnie,” Sally said. “The menu said this is shrimp cocktail Mexicana with the shrimp chilled in a spicy tomato-juice cocktail with avocado, red onion, and cilantro. Bon appetite!”
“Damn, woman, this is hot,” Arnold complained after one bite of the shrimp.
“Look honey,” Lisa said as she read the menu. “We’re having Petit Filet and Butter Poached Lobster Tail for the main course and three different deserts!”
“Give me a crème brûlée, and I’ll be a happy man,” Harold responded.
Dinner took well over an hour and the band continued in the background with soft instrumental music from the 50’s up to the current day. Friends of Ted’s parents came and went, paying their respects to his dad; after all he was the senior partner who held everyone’s future in his hands. Kid’s grades, graduations, jobs and engagements dominated the conversations. Ted could hardly remember the children of the partners and lawyers from his dad’s firm, but he became adapt at faking it. He was attentive to Elaine, but he didn’t really have to listen as she gushed on and on about things that were going on in her high school. All he had to do was tilt his head toward her and give a nod and an occasional, “Cool” for her to think he had even an ounce of interest.
In reality, his mind was deep in thought about the fraternity’s unofficial party in Ohio. There was always a loose girl . . . someone’s sister or someone’s friend who didn’t want to be home alone on New Year’s Eve and or, as had become common lately, someone whose boyfriend was in Nam. No matter what, someone would have been available, someone who would have something more interesting to talk about than Sheila getting sent home for wearing her skirt too short or the gym teacher making her do ten extra push-ups. New Year’s Eve, 1969 and 350 people laughing and talking in the ballroom around him, yet Ted was all alone. He sat at the table, the smile frozen on his face as he gazed at the dance floor.