“So can I,” Neal drawled, “but I don’t marry ’em.”
Hutch’s first date with Donna Dee had been to their senior prom. In a way, he had felt obligated to ask her. It seemed as though she expected it—and both knew why, though they never discussed it. During the summer following graduation, whenever he wasn’t with Neal and Lamar, he was with Donna Dee.
Hutch had always liked her well enough, but he began to like her a lot more. Neal’s bland opinion of her carried less weight each time Hutch saw her. Though she sure was no beauty, she was funny and sweet and made it clear that she was devoted to him. She never missed church on Sunday, yet by their second date his hand was inside her brassiere fingering her nipples, and by the third she was giving him hand-jobs.
It had been her idea that they get into the backseat of his car after the citywide Fourth of July picnic and fireworks on the beach. “B-but I never thought… What I mean is, Donna Dee, I don’t have a rubber with me.”
“That’s okay, Hutch. I want to love you so bad, I don’t even care.”
He reasoned that if she didn’t care that she was about to lose her virginity, he shouldn’t be a stickler for birth control. And hadn’t Neal once told him that a virgin couldn’t get pregnant? Besides, he was a little drunk and very horny, and Donna Dee was so damned compliant that lust had won out over common sense. From then on he always took along a supply of condoms just in case she got amorous again. As it turned out, he had needed one on every single date.
“Are you banging Donna Dee?” Neal had posed the question over the Labor Day weekend while they were water-skiing.
“No,” Hutch had lied. “She’s a nice girl. You know that.”
Neal had looked at him with skepticism. “I’d hate to think my best friend was keeping secrets from me. If you’re not getting in her pants, why spend so much time with her?”
“You sound jealous, Neal.” Lamar had meant his comment as a joke. But Neal’s face had turned dark with wrath. He packed up his belongings and went home. Since the motorboat and all the skiing gear belonged to him, Hutch and Lamar had no choice but to cut short their holiday, too.
When Donna Dee had gladly informed Hutch that she had squeaked through the entrance requirements to the university, he had greeted the news with mixed emotions. He wanted to see her at school and knew he would miss her if he didn’t, but Neal had big plans for Lamar and him.
“We’re gonna raise so much hell, it’ll go down in the annals of higher education,” Neal had drunkenly promised. “We’re gonna nail every coed that moves.”
Their first semester in college, Hutch had managed to juggle his busy schedule between his guard position on the football team, keeping Donna Dee pacified, his classes, and Neal’s expectations of him. On the gridiron, he did as he was told and left the game plans up to the backfield. Since he shared several freshmen classes with Donna Dee, she did all his written assignments. In return for this service, she expected love and affection, which he gladly dispensed when he wasn’t too exhausted.
Following the Saturday games, and through Sunday night, he participated in the debauchery that went on at Neal’s place. Grass, booze, and babes were always plentiful. It was one of these depraved weekends that caused the first serious quarrel between him and Donna Dee.
“I overheard three of them talking in the library about last weekend’s orgy,” she had told him as she sniffled into a Kleenex. “This blonde with a hickie on her neck was telling her friends that she had balled a redheaded football player, but she had been so stoned she couldn’t remember his name. I know it was you, Hutch. You’re the only junior varsity player with red hair. You told me you never did anything except drink a few beers when you went to Neal’s place. Did you sleep with that blonde?”
He could almost hear Neal goading him to lie in order to get her off his back. Instead, a kernel of caring and integrity caused him to gaze miserably into her face and confess. “I guess I did, Donna Dee. Things get a little wild over there sometimes.”
Donna Dee had collapsed in sobs, which startled Hutch and made him feel utterly helpless. Awkwardly he placed his arms around her. “I’m sorry, honey. It didn’t mean anything. Being with another girl isn’t the same as being with you. I… I
love you.”
He could hardly believe his own ears, but Donna Dee had heard him clearly. Her head popped up and she gazed at him through tearful eyes. “Do you, Hutch? Do you really?”
Hutch was bamboozled by what he’d said. Before he could sort it out, they were talking about an engagement ring for Valentine’s Day and wedding bells in June. On a trip home to Palmetto to inform their parents of their plans, Fritz had privately expressed his concern.
“You’re awfully young to be getting married, son,” he’d said.
“I know, Daddy, but she really wants to.”
“Do you?”
“Well, sure. I mean, I guess. I mean, yeah.”
“Are you marrying her because you love her?”
“Sure. Why else would I?”
They exchanged an uncomfortable glance. Then Fritz sighed with resignation. “Well, if you’re sure that’s what you want.”
The wedding took place on the second weekend in June. Three days before the wedding Donna Dee and Hutch were in the living room of her parents’ house inspecting the gifts they had received. She laid aside the set of steak knives she had just opened and threaded the gift-wrap bow onto the coat hanger that was already filled with satin ribbons. “Hutch?”
“Hm-mm?” He was stuffing in a bologna sandwich that Mrs. Monroe had made for him.
“There’s something I’ve got to ask you.”